The Billionaire Who Saw Her Beauty. Rebecca Winters

time. Are you hungry? I’ll tell the cook.”

      “Please don’t bother her. I’ll find something to eat later. Thanks, Liona.”

      She hurried toward her father’s office, wondering if the male visitor was still with him, then scoffed with impatience because the man was on her mind at all.

      “Ciao, Papà.”

      “Alessandra!” Her grayish blond father stood up from his desk and hugged her. “You were gone too long this time.”

      “It was only a week.”

      “We always miss you. Did you have a good time?”

      “Yes, even if we didn’t find anything of significance.” She walked around to sit in one of the leather chairs facing his desk. “I’d much rather know about you and mom. Liona told me Zia Fulvia broke her hip and Mom went to Taranto to help her.”

      He nodded. “Your aunt will make a full recovery. Your mother could be back tomorrow.”

      “Oh, good. So tell me what else has been happening while I’ve been away.”

      His brows lifted. “Something unexpected. I’m glad you’re back so we can talk. More than anyone else I want your input because you have a fine mind.”

      “I got it from you and Mamma.” Her comment produced a chuckle. So maybe her assumption had been right. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with the man I saw in the foyer earlier this evening, would it?”

      He cocked his head. “Actually it would. When did you see him?”

      “I’d just come in the castle when he spoke to me.”

      “Did he introduce himself to you?”

      “No. It wasn’t like that. On my way up the staircase he mistook me for Dea before he headed for your office, that’s all.”

      Her father nodded. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Her face is everywhere.”

      “Papà—” She smiled at him. “Are you pretending with me?”

      “About what?”

      “Was he here because of her?”

      The count blinked. “Not that I know of.”

      “Oh.” She needed to keep her thoughts to herself. “Who is he?”

      He smiled. “If you didn’t live in your world of books and ancient underwater artifacts, you would have recognized him as the CEO of Italy’s most powerful engineering dynasty, Rinieri Montanari.”

      She stirred in the chair. “Of course I recognize the Montanari name. Who wouldn’t?” It explained the man’s aura of authority.

      Her father sat back and touched the tips of his fingers together. “His family has accumulated great wealth. He’s the brilliant one driving the company to new heights. A week ago he made an appointment to come and see me about a business proposition.”

      “That sounds interesting.”

      “I’ll give you a little background. Night before last he was on the news following the European Congress of Businessmen held in Rome. I saw the gleam in his eyes. He said he had secret plans to grow the economy. Today we talked and arranged for him to come back tomorrow to get into the details.”

      He’d aroused her curiosity. “What is he after?”

      “He’d like to drill for oil on our property.”

      Alessandra shifted in the chair. “He and dozens of others who’ve wanted the same thing for the last half century,” she muttered. “Since he knows it’s not for sale, why is he coming back?”

      “This man is different from all the others. He wants to lease the land.”

      Lease? “Are you considering letting him?”

      “I’m thinking about it.”

      “Wow.”

      Her father eyed her curiously. “Why do you say that?”

      “I thought our property was inviolate.”

      “Leasing isn’t the same thing as selling.”

      “You’re right.”

      “Alessandra, something’s on your mind. Why did you ask if he was here because of Dea? Has your sister confided in you about him?”

      “No, Papà. In fact I haven’t spoken to her for almost two months.”

      “Hmm. If he’d met her before, he didn’t mention anything about meeting her to me.”

      “Why would he if he didn’t know anything about our family?”

      “But what if he does know? It makes me wonder what came first, the chicken or the egg?”

      “What do you mean?”

      “He might have met Dea before he ever called me.”

      Alessandra was trying to understand what her father was getting at. “Why is this troubling you so much?”

      “I’m your loving papà. My daughters were born princesses of the Houses of Taranto and Caracciolo. Because of our family history, you know I’ve always wanted to protect you from unscrupulous men.”

      His explanation surprised her. “That sounds like medieval thinking. Papà, you don’t honestly think the CEO of Montanari Engineering fits in that category?” That gorgeous man? The one she’d envied Dea for meeting first? Alessandra didn’t want to believe it. Something about him had impressed her deeply.

      “Though we don’t use the titles anymore, there are some men who try to calculate the monetary worth of our family. There’s nothing they would like more than to acquire your bank accounts and assets more than your love.”

      Alessandra frowned. “The man comes from his own family dynasty and doesn’t need more.”

      “One would assume as much, but for some men one dynasty isn’t enough.” His gaze swerved to hers. “I don’t want to think it. But if he has targeted Dea to marry her and eventually gain possession of our property, I don’t like the thought of it.”

      She didn’t like it, either. Not at all. “Personally I don’t believe it.” Alessandra didn’t want to believe it. Not about that man. Whatever history her sister and Signor Montanari might have together, she didn’t want to think about it. To be with a man like him...

      Alessandra got to her feet. “Don’t let it bother you, Papà. Have you had dinner yet?”

      “No.”

      “I’ll bring you something.”

      “Grazie, but I’m not hungry.”

      “I’m afraid I am. I haven’t eaten since I got back. Excuse me while I grab a sandwich. If you want me, I’ll be in the library.”

      Alessandra left the office and headed for the kitchen to find something to eat. Afterward she walked to the castle library on the main floor, the repository of their family history where she could be alone. Years earlier she’d turned one corner of it into her own office, complete with file cabinets and a state-of-the-art computer and printer, plus a large-screen television for viewing the many videos she’d compiled. This had been her inner sanctum for years.

      She sat down at the desk and got back to work on the book she was writing about Queen Joanna. Just as she’d settled down to get busy, the phone rang. It was her father.

      “Papà?”

      “I just wanted to let you know I’ve got business in Metaponto. The pilot is flying me in a few minutes.”

      “Do you want company? I’ll go with you.”

      “Not tonight, piccola.” Her