His Royal Love-Child. Lucy Monroe

that surprise you?”

      He nodded, coming closer, his presence filling her senses. “Normally the second son would take that position and I would either continue as I am or take Tomasso’s position, but because he has taken that side of our family’s holdings so far and my brothers and father are content with my performance here, I will be given the honor.”

      “That’s wonderful! I suppose you celebrated by working a few extra twenty-hour days,” she teased, knowing from the company grapevine that was exactly what he’d been doing lately.

      He came around the desk and leaned against it, not six inches from where she stood. “Just as you have done?”

      “Touché.” She stopped in the act of reaching for the papers she’d stacked so she could file them. Doing so would require leaning into him and her senses were headed toward overload as it was. “I just don’t want my boss to regret his decision to promote me,” she said a trifle breathlessly.

      “I also feel this need…in relation to the confidence my family has put in me.”

      His scent was teasing at her olfactory senses and she wanted to get closer, which was insane under the circumstances. “I guess…um…that we have something in common.”

      He reached out and touched her. Just a light brush against her cheek, but she felt paralyzed by it.

      “Perhaps more than this single thing,” he suggested.

      Her face tingled where he had brushed it. “I can’t imagine that we could have much else. Our lives are very different.”

      “Perhaps, but I think you are wrong. Will you have dinner with me tonight to find out?”

      “What?” She shook her head, trying to clear it. The president of Scorsolini Shipping had asked her out on a date?

      “I would like you to have dinner with me.”

      “But…”

      “I like you, Danette, and I hope you like me, too.” But his confident smile said he already knew she did, that he knew exactly the effect his nearness was having on her body.

      “Of course I like you, but you asked me out on a date. I’m not your type.”

      “And you base this assumption on what?”

      “Everybody knows you date really gorgeous women.”

      “You are beautiful.”

      She snorted at that. “I have a mirror. I’m nothing like the women you normally have your picture taken with.”

      “That is window dressing…a facade I present to the world to keep my private life private.” He looked so sincere, but he couldn’t be serious.

      “But—”

      “Come to dinner with me and see what kind of man I am when the paparazzi are not present with their insidious cameras.”

      “My job…” she said uncertainly.

      “I make you this promise, Danette. Your job will not be influenced for good or for ill regardless of what happens or does not happen between us.”

      “So, if I say no to your dinner invitation?” she asked.

      “I will be disappointed, but that will have no impact on your employment, advancement or type of opportunities given here at Scorsolini Shipping. To be fair, I must also tell you that even if you were to become my lover, that would not impact those same things in a positive way, either.”

      “I never for a moment would have expected them to.”

      “You are very naive.”

      “There’s nothing naive about believing that a person should earn their job advancement.”

      He smiled, but his eyes were serious. “I like that about you and I agree.”

      “Good.”

      “So, will you allow me to take you to dinner?”

      Every logical impulse in her body screamed at her to tell him no. She didn’t want to get into a relationship, but dinner wasn’t exactly a promise for the future. Maybe he was only interested in friendship. But he’d mentioned being her lover. That implied a lot more than chatting over coffee.

      Oddly enough, it was the prospect of the more that had her so horribly tempted. She’d dated so little in her life and she’d never spent so much as half an hour with a man as intriguing as Marcello. Not unless you counted Angelo Gordon, but he belonged to her friend and even he didn’t stir her latent sexuality the way that Marcello did.

      Ray certainly never had, the lying sneak.

      This wasn’t about love and happily ever after, she told herself, it was about experiencing feelings she’d denied herself far too long.

      “Okay. I’ll have dinner with you.”