Return of the Italian Tycoon. Jennifer Faye

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Return of the Italian Tycoon - Jennifer Faye The Vineyards of Calanetti

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      “Um...sure.” She sat back down.

      Kayla wasn’t sure how to act. She’d never before witnessed her boss seriously lose it. And who exactly was Marianna? Was it possible Mr. Amatucci really did have a life outside this office—one nobody knew about? The thought had her fighting back a frown. Why should it bother her to think that her boss might have fathered a baby with this woman? It wasn’t as if they were anything more than employee and employer.

      Mr. Amatucci stepped up to her desk. “I’ll need to go over this with you tomorrow afternoon.”

      “Tomorrow?”

      She knew that he asked for the impossible at times and this happened to be one of those times. He’d caught her totally off guard. It’d take time to think out innovative ideas for the new campaign platform. And she had an important meeting that night, but there was no way she was telling her boss about that.

      Mr. Amatucci arched a brow at her. “Is that going to be a problem?”

      “Uh...no. No problem.” She would not let this opportunity pass her by. “I’ll just finish up what I was working on, and I’ll get started.”

      He paused as though considering her answer. “On second thought, it’d be best to go over your ideas first thing in the morning.”

      “The morning?”

      His gaze narrowed in on her, and she wished that her thoughts would quit slipping across her tongue and out her mouth. It certainly wasn’t helping this situation. She was here to impress him with her capabilities, not to annoy him when he was obviously already in a bad mood.

      “Ms. Hill, you seem to be repeating what I say. Is there some sort of problem I should be aware of?”

      She hated that he always called her Ms. Hill. Couldn’t he be like everyone else in the office and call her Kayla? But then again, she was talking about Angelo Amatucci—he was unlike anyone she’d ever known.

      He was the first man to set her stomach aquiver without so much as touching her. She’d been so aware of his mouth being just a breath away from her neck as he’d sniffed her perfume. The memory was still fresh in her mind. Was it so wrong that she hadn’t wanted that moment to end?

      Of course it was. She swallowed hard. He was her boss, not just some guy she’d met at a friend’s place. There could never be anything serious between them—not that he’d ever even noticed her as a desirable woman.

      “Ms. Hill?”

      “No, there won’t be a...uh...problem.” Who was she kidding? This was going to be a big problem, but she’d work it out—somehow—some way.

      Her gaze moved to the windows and the darkening sky. With it only nearing the lunch hour, it shouldn’t be so dark, which could only mean that they were going to get pounded with more snow. The thought of getting stuck at the office turned her nervous stomach nauseous.

       Snow. Snow. Go away.

      He gazed at her. “I didn’t mean to snap at you—”

      “I understand. You’ve got a lot on your mind.”

      “Thank you.”

      His gaze continued to hold hers. The dark depths of his eyes held a mystery—the story of the real man behind the designer suits and the Rolex watches. She had to admit that she was quite curious about him—more than any employee had a right to about her very handsome, very single boss. And that odd phone call only made her all the more curious. Maybe he wasn’t as single as she’d presumed. The jagged thought lodged in her throat.

      Mr. Amatucci’s steady gaze met hers. “You’re sure you’re up for this project?”

      She pressed her lips together, no longer trusting her mouth, and nodded. She’d have to reschedule tonight’s meeting for the fund-raiser.

      “Good. If you need help, feel free to ask one of the other PAs to take over some of your other work. The Van Holsen account is now your priority.”

      He gathered his tablet computer and headed for the door. “I’ve got a meeting. I’ll be back later.”

      “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”

      Without a backward glance, he strode out of the room, looking like the calm, cool, collected Angelo Amatucci that everyone respected and admired for his creative foresight. But how he was able to shut down his emotions so quickly was totally beyond her.

      What was she going to do about her meeting tonight? It didn’t help that she’d been the one to set it up. Somehow she’d been put in charge of the Inner City League after-school program fund-raiser. The program was in a serious financial bind. ICL was a great organization that kept at-risk kids off the streets after school while their parents were still at work.

      Kayla had been volunteering for the past year. Helping others was how her parents had raised her. They had always been generous with their spare time and money—not that they had much of either. Kayla may have hightailed it out of Paradise, Pennsylvania, as soon as she could, but there was still a lot of Paradise in her. And she’d swear that she got more back from the kids and the other volunteers than she ever gave to any of them. For a girl who was used to living in a small town of friends, it was a comfort to have such a friendly group to keep her from feeling isolated in such a large city of strangers.

      There was no way she could reschedule tonight’s meeting. They were running out of time until the charity concert and there was still so much to plan. Somehow she had to make this all work out. She couldn’t let down the kids nor could she let down her boss. The thought of Angelo Amatucci counting on her felt good.

      Not only was he easy on the eyes, but she really enjoyed working with him, even if he was a bit stiff and withdrawn most of the time. But now that she’d witnessed him emotionally charged, she couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like to get up close and personal with him.

      * * *

      Angelo shook his head.

       Marianna pregnant! Impossible.

      Okay, so it wasn’t impossible, but why had she been acting so irresponsible? It wasn’t as if she was married or even considering it. She changed romantic interests faster than he changed ties—never getting too serious—until now. Nico didn’t even know the father’s name. What was up with that?

      “What do you think, Mr. Amatucci?”

      He glanced up at his youngest and most promising account executive. This was a meeting to discuss the campaign for a new sports car that was going to be revealed later that year. The car was quite nice and was sure to create a buzz of attention.

      But for the life of him, Angelo couldn’t keep his mind wrapped around business—no matter how important the account. His head was in Italy at the village of Monte Calanetti—where he should be dealing with his sister’s life-changing event.

      Angelo glanced down at the presentation on his digital tablet and then back at the account executive. “I think you still have work to do. This presentation is flat. It isn’t innovative enough. There’s nothing here to sway a twentysomething consumer

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