her eyeballs?
“And what sort of music do you like?” she asked.
“Classic rock.” He smiled. “You’re right, it isn’t to be. We’re too different.”
“Ah, well, just allow me to get the broom and dustpan so I can sweep up the pieces of my broken heart.”
“I would, but we haven’t the time for such carrying-on. We have a meeting.”
She blinked rapidly. “We do?”
“Yes. We have a meeting with the prime minister of Isolo D’Oro.”
“But... When?”
He raised his hand and looked down at his wrist, at the watch he wore that no doubt cost more than some people’s yearly salary. “In about ten minutes.”
She took in his perfectly pressed appearance. The sharp white shirt, and the rest, all an inky black to match his hair and eyes. He was like a dark angel come to life in Armani. And she was...well, she was wearing polyester pants.
“Wait a second! That isn’t fair. You had a chance to change your clothes. I’m still wearing the same thing that I was wearing on the plane.”
“Which is perfect. Because you are my assistant, not a lover. Not a princess.” He reached back into the closet and pulled out a garment bag. “So, in the next ten minutes, I would like you to make sure that you put this out for the hotel staff. The jacket I was wearing earlier. It needs to be cleaned.”
She sputtered. “I’m going to meet the prime minister of Isolo D’Oro in these ridiculous skinny...pants...whatever they are. And now I have to do your menial chores?”
“Well, Gabby, had we decided to go with the story that you were my current mistress I would have draped you in silks. As it is, I’m going to have to drape you in my dry cleaning.”
She sniffed. “You don’t have to enjoy this so much.”
He chuckled, a darkly amused sound. “Oh, yes, I absolutely do have to enjoy this. As I told you before, I’m accustomed to making my own fun. And I’m finding this quite unexpectedly fun.”
THE TROUBLE WITH meeting politicians was that they always came with an unreasonable amount of security detail and other various hangers-on. Of course, there were a few paparazzi, as well. But Alex knew that the prime minister was the quickest way to gaining access to the various historic sites they would need access to in order to find The Lost Love.
Most of the dining room had been cleared in preparation for his arrival, and it was almost entirely empty except for the three of them, seated at a table in the far corner.
When the man had finally arrived at the hotel restaurant a good fifteen minutes after he had said he would, he had spent an age pouring over the wine list and finding things disappointing.
Immediately, Alex found him insufferable. A pale man with a weak chin who clearly thought his time was precious, but had thought nothing of keeping Alex and Gabriella waiting. Or of insulting the hotel staff with comments about the wine, while not bothering to make a formal introduction.
Alex made it a point not to telegraph any of his irritation to the other man. As soon as the wine had been selected, Alex turned his focus to the business at hand.
“Alessandro Di Sione,” he said, extending his hand. “It’s good to meet you, Prime Minister Colletti. This is my assistant, Gabby. A university student doing a bit of work experience. She’s come with me to help me on my mission.”
“And what exactly is that?” asked the prime minister, leaning back in his chair, his arms behind his head.
“I’ve become somewhat of an avid art collector of late. I heard that the collection here on Isolo D’Oro is beyond price. I’m interested in acquiring some pieces. Particularly those that belonged to the former royal family because of the...significance of the time period.”
“A historian and an art enthusiast?”
“Absolutely,” Alex said.
The other man smiled. “Which sorts of art are you most interested in?”
Alex hesitated. His grandfather was right. He probably was owed a refund on that expensive boarding school education.
“Portraiture primarily,” Gabriella interjected. “Oils on canvas, mostly. Though I know that there are some excellent marble busts. And also some paintings that depict the scenery. Some wonderful depictions of farms? I have heard tell—I mean, Alessandro has told me. He is quite enthusiastic about the painting of the geese.”
The prime minister laughed. “Yes. One of my favorites. I don’t think I could part with it.”
“Everything has a price,” Alex said.
“Some things.”
“Either way, we would be very interested in seeing the collection,” Alex continued.
“And I am happy to show it. The palace is home to the art collections of the royal family, so you’ll find whatever you like there. But I’m curious. You’re currently in charge of a vast shipping company, is that correct?”
Now, the other man was speaking Alex’s language. Alex leaned forward, suddenly feeling much more interested in the interaction. “Yes, I am.”
“I might have need of your services. The entire country might. It would be interesting to see if we can come to some sort of agreement.”
“Yes, that would be interesting,” Alex said.
It was suddenly clear why Prime Minister Colletti had been so eager to meet with them. Money. Alex’s very favorite language.
“Well, but we’re here to study art,” Gabriella protested.
“A good businessperson learns to multitask early on, as you will learn when you discover more about the world,” he responded.
She said nothing to that, but he could tell she wanted to kick him under the table.
“Wonderful,” the prime minister said. “It just so happens that I’m having an open house party at the palace. Celebrating fifty years of independence for Isolo D’Oro.”
He could feel Gabriella quivering with rage, and for once, not all of it was directed at him. He reached beneath the table and quickly squeezed her hand. A warning.
What he hadn’t anticipated was how soft her skin would be. How smooth.
He withdrew his touch quickly, keeping his focus trained on the prime minister.
“I would very much like to have you attend the party,” the other man was saying. “Your assistant is welcome also. That way, you can see some of the art, a bit of the architecture and we can also discuss the possibility of a business partnership.”
“That sounds perfect,”
