Fiona Harper - Italian Bachelors - Ruthless Propositions - Taming Her Italian Boss / The Uncompromising Italian / Secrets of the Playboy's Bride

Fina smiled and tipped her head on one side. ‘I was talking about you, my darling.’

Ruby tried not to react. Was it really that obvious?

Fina waved her hand in a regal manner. ‘Well, it is all for the good. I came to say I would read Sofia her story and put her to bed tonight, so you go and relax in the salon.’

Ruby shook her head. More sitting around with nothing to do—the last thing she needed. ‘It’s my job, Fina—’

Fina stopped her with an imperious eyebrow lift. ‘But I wish to. So...off you go.’ And she dismissed Ruby with a gracious smile.

There wasn’t much Ruby could say to that, so she sloped off in the direction of the salon to do as she was told. The setting sun was streaming in through the windows when she entered the room, almost blinding her, and at first she didn’t see the dark shape by the window, but after a moment or two the dark smudge morphed into something more solid.

Ruby’s mouth dropped open. ‘B-but I thought you were going back to London!’

Max turned round. He was silhouetted against the ornate arches, and she couldn’t see his face, let alone read his features.

‘So did I.’

She shook her head. ‘What changed?’

‘Nothing...and everything.’

He stepped forward out of the light and Ruby could see he wasn’t wearing his suit, just dark casual trousers and a light sweater. Her heart began to beat faster.

‘But this afternoon, when I carried on using the ideas from your doodle and incorporating a pared-down Venetian style into my plans for the institute, I realised I need to be here, not in London. I need to get my inspiration from the source, not just inaccurate and misleading memories. I’ve spent all afternoon wandering around looking at buildings I’ve known all my life and seeing them with completely fresh eyes.’ He shook his head.

Ruby glanced over her shoulder towards the corridor, and Sofia’s bedroom. She could just about hear the warm tones of Fina’s voice as she read her granddaughter a fairy story. ‘There’s something to be said for stripping the preconceptions and prejudices of the past away and looking at things with fresh eyes.’

‘Did my mother put you up to saying that?’

She turned back, expecting him to be scowling, but his face was almost neutral, save for the barest hint of a smile.

One corner of Ruby’s mouth lifted. ‘No. I think I’m quite capable of irritating you without outside help.’

Max laughed, and it made something rise like a balloon inside Ruby and bump against the ceiling of her ribs.

He walked towards the door in the path of a long, golden shadow. ‘Come on,’ he said.

Ruby frowned, but she turned to follow anyway. ‘Where?’

He stopped and looked back at her. ‘You missed seeing Venice at sunset last night because I had an attack of stupid. It’s only right I should make it up to you tonight.’

CHAPTER ELEVEN

AS THEY WALKED along the little wooden dock in front of his mother’s palazzo, Max couldn’t help but remember being there with Ruby the night before. He jumped down into the little speedboat, and Ruby followed him. Without even asking, she helped with the ropes and fenders.

She’d only been here a week, and no one had shown her what to do. She’d just picked it up, that quick mind of hers soaking up all the information and putting it effortlessly to use.

She sat in the stern as he drove the boat away, silent. The outfit tonight was the plainest one yet. No hippies. No rock chicks. No damn strawberries. All she wore was a cream blouse with soft ruffles, a pair of capris and a light cardigan thrown over her shoulders. He watched her drink in the way the setting sun made every façade richer and more glorious, harking back to the days when some had actually been covered entirely in gold leaf.

In fact, he found it hard to stop watching her.

But he needed to.

Ruby Lange seemed bright and sunny and harmless, but she was a dangerous substance. She dissolved through his carefully constructed walls without even trying. He really should keep her at a distance.

Then why did you invite her to come out with you this evening?

Because it was the right thing to do. He’d acted like a total idiot the previous evening and so he was making it up to her. And he’d given his word. He’d said he’d show her Venice at sunset and so he was going to show her Venice at sunset.

Yeah, right. You keep telling yourself that. It has nothing to do with wanting to be alone with her, with wanting her to melt those walls that have left you claustrophobic and breathless for too long.

Max steered the boat down the canal and busied himself doing what he’d come here to do—no, not spend time alone with Ruby, but offer his services as tour guide and boat driver. He beckoned for her to come up and stand beside him, pointed out a few landmarks, and they talked easily about history and architecture for at least ten minutes.

It wasn’t working.

Inside there was a timer counting down, ticking away the seconds until the sun slipped below the horizon and he and Ruby would be cocooned in the dark. He couldn’t stop thinking about it.

He needed to remember why this was a bad idea, remember why Ruby wasn’t right for him. As alluring as she might be, last night’s uproar had proved one thing quite firmly: Ruby Lange ran when things got too close, when things got too serious. And these days he was nothing but serious.

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