Italian Boss, Ruthless Revenge. Carol Marinelli

do. Her heart was thumping in her chest as he removed his hand—she should really step aside. Only she didn’t. In fact, still she stood there, as his hands came around either side of her waist and moved to the keyboard. Her heart leapt up into her mouth as, without a single mistake, he calmly logged in and with impressive speed typed in the necessary details to retrieve Gus Dalton’s information.

      ‘Luckily everything is backed up.’ His voice was low in her ear, and she waited for relief to flood her—waited for grateful breath to escape her lips as the crisis was averted. Only it never came. Her body was resisting the call to relax, and her mind was telling her in no uncertain terms that now certainly wasn’t the time for complacency. Every nerve was on high alert, every cell, every shred of DNA was quivering with tension. Only it had nothing to do with her career, nothing to do with her boss catching her making a stupendous mistake, but everything to do with the man who was leaning over her, the heavy scent of him, the absolute undeniable maleness of him, was having the most dizzying effect.

      ‘How…?’ Caitlyn blinked. ‘Glynn said that once Susan was put to bed…’

      ‘All the day’s data is sent to me for checking,’ Lazzaro explained then elaborated, still tapping away. ‘Nothing that happens on this computer is deleted till I am satisfied it is okay…’

      ‘Thank goodness for that.’

      ‘So long as you’re not attempting a dash of embezzlement…?’ He’d stopped typing now, put the delicious prison of his arms down as he stepped back, and Caitlyn thankfully exhaled before she turned to face him.

      ‘Of course not!’ Caitlyn giggled.

      ‘Or having a few friends paying mate’s rates while staying in the Presidential Suite?’

      ‘Please!’ Caitlyn laughed.

      ‘Or mooning behind the desk checking e-mails and doing a spot of internet banking on my time?’

      ‘Er, no.’ Caitlyn wasn’t laughing now. In fact she was having trouble forcing a smile.

      ‘Or checking your horoscope…?’

      Caitlyn didn’t even attempt a denial. Her face was burning an unattractive shade of scarlet, but if she’d had the nerve to look up she’d have seen that he was smiling.

      ‘Everything in order?’ Glynn was positively dripping with nerves as he came over.

      ‘Of course.’ Lazzaro shrugged. ‘I see that Gus paid in advance forty-eight hours before the reception…’

      ‘Still…’ Glynn cleared his throat. ‘I thought I ought to warn him…’

      ‘Lazzaro!’ Smiling, loud, and as red in the face as Caitlyn, Gus Danton crossed the foyer. ‘Come in and have a drink!’

      ‘I was just about to.’ Lazzaro nodded. ‘I trust everything has gone smoothly tonight?’

      ‘It’s been perfect!’ Gus enthused. ‘Everything’s gone off without a hitch. Actually…’ Gus turned to address Glynn. ‘Did you sort out the bar, like I asked?’

      ‘All done,’ Lazzaro answered for his manager. ‘You’ll be posted an itemised bill next week.’

      ‘Details, details…’ Gus waved them away. ‘Join us, Lazzaro.’

      ‘I’ll be there in just a moment.’

      As Gus headed back to the ballroom, Lazzaro gave a nod to his waiting beauty. And though he didn’t whistle, though he didn’t wave a lead, as she jumped up eagerly, the only thing Caitlyn could liken her to was an over-eager dog, finding out it was about to be walked.

      Every staff member stood rigid, every polished smile was perfectly in place as he stalked towards the ballroom, yet, like a leaky balloon, one could almost feel the tension seeping out as the ballroom doors were opened and Lazzaro and his date entered. But just as shoulders drooped, just as everyone prepared to exhale en masse, as if having second thoughts, he turned around—striding back to the reception desk and fixing a stunned Caitlyn with his stern glare.

      ‘Why did I do that?’ he demanded. ‘Come on—you are here to learn. Why, when this is a business, when I know he may not have the funds, would I choose, for now, to ignore it?’

      ‘Er…’ Caitlyn’s eyes darted to Glynn’s in a brief plea for help, but when none was forthcoming she forced herself to look back at Lazzaro. ‘Because he’s a friend?’ Caitlyn attempted. Seeing his frown deepen, she had another stab. ‘Because he’s a guest and, rather than embarrass him tonight…’ The frown was still deepening as she frantically racked her brain. ‘Because he’s already paid so much…’

      She was clearly completely off track. Her mind raced to come up with an answer, only she had none left. Bracing herself for the cracking whip of his putdown, she gave in. And he did the strangest, most unexpected thing.

      ‘All good reasons. But…’ That inscrutable, scathing expression slipped like a mask and broke into another smile of which Caitlyn was the sole beneficiary, and it was like stepping out into the sun unprotected—dazzling, warming, blinding her with its intensity, knocking her completely off guard, a smile that magnified everything. ‘He has three more daughters and all of them are single—so if tonight goes well, that is three more weddings…’

      He didn’t finish. Bored now, he turned again and headed back to his date, and towards the ballroom.

      And this time, for Caitlyn at least, the tension had only just started—and there wasn’t a trace of breath left in her lungs to be let out.

      There were several clocks in the reception area, each giving the different times around the world—ten minutes to midnight in Melbourne, ten minutes to two in the afternoon in London, and ten minutes to nine in the morning in NewYork—and Caitlyn glanced up at them, freeze-framing them in her mind. Because suddenly it was relevant; for the first time in her life Caitlyn actually understood the saying that time stood still…

      Because it did.

      At ten minutes to midnight Caitlyn’s eyes were dragged back to Lazzaro’s departing back, watching as he walked into the ballroom and out of her view, taking with him just a little piece of her very young, very tender heart.

      ‘You might as well go home,’ Glynn said a little while later. ‘There’s not much to do.’

      ‘There will be, though.’ Caitlyn coloured up a touch, her work ethic for once having nothing to do with her wanting to hang around. ‘Once the wedding reception finishes.’

      ‘It’s all under control.’

      ‘What are you going to do about Luca?’ Caitlyn asked. ‘All the best rooms are booked out for the wedding.’

      ‘He’ll be so wasted he won’t notice if I put him in the broom cupboard.’ Glynn rolled his eyes, then smiled. ‘Have you thought about what I said? About working here while you study? A lot of our chambermaids are students.’

      Caitlyn nodded. ‘I’m going to put in my résumé on Monday.’

      ‘Well, you can put me down as a reference,’ Glynn said. ‘You’ve done really well—here.’ He handed her a cab voucher.

      ‘What’s this for? You don’t have to do that!’

      ‘Don’t worry—I haven’t gone soft. Lazzaro insists the hotel pays for a taxi if staff work after eleven—and given that you’re practically staff, he wouldn’t hear otherwise!’

      ‘So he can be nice, then?’ Caitlyn fished. ‘Despite what everyone says?’

      ‘Unfortunately, yes.’ Glynn sighed. ‘Which means one always ends up forgiving him when he’s being bloody! Night, Caitlyn.’

      Chatting idly to the doorman, Caitlyn shivered—not with cold but with tiredness as she waited for ever for her taxi. But her weariness was quickly forgotten when Lazzaro’s rather