Jordan gave a lopsided smile. “Sorry, Mom.”

  Mia kissed her mother in greeting. Although Camilla had learned English at a young age, she still sprinkled her English with Italian. She’d only met her husband when he’d been vacationing in Tuscany and she’d been a twenty-one-year-old hotel front desk employee.

  The doorbell rang, and Sera sprang up. “I’ll get it.”

  “You should tell me, cara,” her mother protested as she sat. “We could pick you up from the bus.”

  Mia started guiltily. “It wasn’t necessary. Really.”

  “She’s got your independent streak, Camilla,” Serg grumbled as he also accepted Mia’s quick peck on the cheek.

  As her father took a seat in an armchair near his wife, Mia was glad to see that he seemed in good spirits. Evidently, Cole had not shared the news about Damian Musil with their parents...yet. And her parents’ cheer at having family drop by might make the news go over...not catastrophically. At least she hoped so.

  Instinctively Mia crossed her fingers behind her back.

  She was happy, at least, to see that her father was looking healthy and vigorous—an older version of Cole with steel gray hair mixed with white at the sideburns. After his stroke a few years ago—when he’d stepped back from Serenghetti Construction and handed over the reins to Cole, Serg had fallen into a funk. But these days he was looking more chipper—as if his televised wine spots had injected a new vitality and purpose into his life.

  Right when Mia looked away from her parents, however, Sera returned—followed by a familiar face...

  SIX

  “Damian.” Mia sucked in a breath. “What are you doing here?”

  She drank in the sight of Damian. And then... Oh, great. Oh, damn.

  Everyone’s gaze swung to the entry.

  Sera shrugged semi-apologetically. “He said you left something behind.”

  Cole muttered under his breath. “Musil.”

  Camilla looked shocked and dismayed, while Serg was patently suspicious.

  “Who’s going to take the first swing?” Jordan asked no one in particular, his lips twisted into a semblance of the killer smile that had won him underwear billboard ads.

  “I’m confused,” Serg grumbled.

  Confused... Mia thought she could work with merely confused.

  “And angry. Someone tell me what the hell is going on.”

  It was all a nightmare. Mia wished the floor would open and swallow her up.

  Camilla placed a staying hand on her husband’s arm. “Now, Serg.”

  Her father fixed Mia with a care to explain expression. “I may have had a stroke, but I’m understanding this...situation just as much or as little as everyone else.”

  Before Mia could react, her father turned to Damian. “You’ve got guts coming here, Musil.”

  “Compliment accepted, sir,” Damian responded easily.

  “What are you doing here?” Mia repeated, diverting his attention to her.

  She thrummed with awareness. A short time ago, they’d been locked in an embrace. The world had fallen away, and now it was crashing back down on her.

  Still, he was so big and calm as he strode over to her, despite the undercurrent of menace in the room. “I wasn’t going to let you face your family alone.”

  “I can fight my own battles,” she responded in a low voice.

  “Now you don’t have to.”

  “You’re complicating things.”

  “Good.”

  Cole curled his hands. “Outside, Musil. Now.”

  “Oh, no, you don’t.” Mia moved to stand in front of Damian. Even if no punches were thrown, Cole and Jordan together were formidable. In fact, her brothers were all cut from the same cloth—tall, dark...and in excellent physical shape. “We’re all staying right here.”

  “This is a...shock,” Camilla remarked faintly.

  “Nice to see you, Mrs. Serenghetti,” Damian responded. “You’re as lovely as your daughter.”

  Camilla looked flustered and then smiled. “Thank you.”

  Mia relaxed momentarily. Her mother at least seemed like she was going to maintain at least a semblance of politeness.

  “Damn it, Musil,” Cole growled, breaking the lull in hostilities. “Save the pretty compliments for the business deals over at JM Construction.”

  “I don’t have anything to do with the construction company these days,” Damian said calmly. “My father and brother run it.”

  “Well, that settles it,” Jordan quipped. “In that case, someone invite him to stay for dinner.”

  Cole snorted. “You’re still a Musil—unless you’ve been disowned?”

  “I’m in touch with my family but I run my own business these days.”

  The understatement of the decade. Mia felt the full impact of what was left unstated. No one in the room needed any primer on how Damian Musil had launched CyberSilver and entered the ranks of the fabulously wealthy.

  The tense moment was broken when Dahlia trotted in carrying a toy dump truck.

  Spotting Damian, she stopped. “Who are you?”

  “Damian Musil.”

  “I’m Dahlia.”

  He smiled. “I used to own a truck like that when I was little.”

  “Figures,” Jordan muttered. “Construction is in the blood.”

  Cole’s eyes narrowed. “Dahlia, go play in the rec room again.”

  The preschooler turned matching hazel eyes on her father. “Daddy, I’m talking to my new person.”

  Damian crouched and gave the truck a little flick so that it dumped its alphabet block load on the floor.

  Dahlia squealed. “Do you want to come play? Daddy does sometimes.”

  Oh, my heart. Mia felt hers squeeze.

  Cole gave an aggrieved sigh. “Dahlia.”

  Marisa rose and scooped up her daughter with an apologetic look at Damian. “Snack time.”

  After Marisa had left the room with her daughter, Jordan folded his arms. “You can charm the women in this family, Musil, but we see right through you.”

  Mia had had enough. “Damian hasn’t pulled one over on me.”

  She’d been back in Welsdale for less than a day and already she seemed to have fallen back into a bad family dynamic—one where everyone thought they knew what was best for her.

  On the other hand, she’d be damned if she’d admit to her family that her relationship with Damian was all a ruse—for the benefit of his business and hers. She was too riled up and annoyed.

  “Mia,” her father said warningly. “Someone explain to me how you’ve gotten to know—” he scanned Damian, sizing him up “—this guy.”

  “He grew up in Welsdale,” she said in exasperation, throwing up her hands.

  “And somehow, they ended up arm in arm at the Ruby Ball in New York,” Cole put in menacingly, locking gazes with Damian.

  Camilla’s eyes widened while Serg muttered something under his breath—an echo of his eldest son.

  “I’d explain,” Mia huffed, “but I can see it’d be futile.”

  Then everyone seemed to be talking at once. Just like the mess of alphabet blocks on the floor, it was chaos...thanks to one deceptively placid-looking tech tycoon.

  Mia raised her voice. “Damian and I are leaving. Obviously, no one here is in the mood for a civilized discussion.”

  * * *

  As Damian pulled the car away from the Serenghettis’ drive, Mia sat next to him in stony silence.

  He chanced a glance at her out of the corner of his eye, but she gazed forward unwaveringly.

  His arrival at the Serenghettis’ had been met with exactly the reaction he’d expected. He’d be damned, though, if he’d let himself be tossed aside because Mia’s family looked down on the Musils—especially after what he and Mia had started in his condo.

  He hadn’t liked the idea of her showing up and being outnumbered by the rest of her family in an argument. Besides, their underlying beef was with him.

  Frankly, he now felt like a knight in shining armor riding off with the damsel in distress—except Mia would eviscerate him for that analogy. He had a car and not a horse, she was a woman who’d proven she could take care of herself, and his armor had a few chinks in it—not least because of his last name, at least as far as the Serenghettis were concerned.

  “I can’t believe you barged into Serenghetti Central like that,” she announced finally, and then turned toward him.

  “I didn’t barge in,” he corrected. “Your sister-in-law opened the door.”

  “After you misled her with some cooked-up explanation about my leaving something behind.”

  “You did. Me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yes, thanks for letting everyone know that I had been with you. What were you thinking?”

  His hands tightened on the wheel. “I wasn’t going to let you face the consequences alone.”

  “My brothers blowing off steam?” she huffed. “Please, I’ve dealt with it my whole life.”

  He bet she had. He and Jordan Serenghetti had crossed paths briefly at Welsdale High School when he’d been a junior and Jordan had nearly been out the door as a senior who was captain of the hockey team. Mia’s two older brothers he knew less well. He’d occasionally crossed paths with them in Welsdale, and those interactions could most charitably have been described as an uneasy detente.

  A detente that seemed to have ended minutes ago. “I think the correct response is thank you.”

  He knew he’d irritate her, but hey, as long as they were having this out, he was going to defend himself.

  “For what?” she huffed. “You gave everyone the impression that something is going on between us. First Carl, now my family.”

  He took his eyes off the road to glance at her, quirking a brow. “And you didn’t contradict the idea.”

  “This is all business,” she responded emphatically.

  He didn’t say anything but tightened his hands on the wheel again. Mia was deluding herself if she thought that this was only about business. It was about family feuds. It was about a tangled history of decisions overlaid by emotion and distrust. And most of all, it was about the two of them, and the undercurrent of desire running between them.

  By the end of their golf outing with the Bensens, Larry had signaled that he would sign a letter of intent to sell his business to Damian, which meant they would be in good faith negotiations to the exclusion of other buyers. The lawyers were going to have to do due diligence, of course, while he and Larry hammered out details, so nothing was sewn up yet. Still, Damian knew he’d taken a major step toward buying Larry’s company. Strangely, though, that felt like the least of his concerns right now.

  “You act like you’re always on a covert mission with your family,” he said finally—because he knew better than to voice all his thoughts about the Serenghetti family dynamic he’d witnessed.

  “Aren’t you with yours? You’re the outsider among the Musils, if you’re to be believed.”

  “So we’re both rebels with a cause.”

  She tossed hair away from her face. “Your oversharing was like throwing oil on the fire for Cole.”

  He allowed himself a small smile. “Putting a competitor off balance. Good for business.”

  “Nice try, but you said you’re not directly involved with JM Construction—and what were you going to do when the punches started landing?”

  “That wasn’t going to happen. You jumped in front of me. Who’d have thought a Serenghetti would come to the defense of a Musil?”

  “Between you and my brothers, you were the lesser evil.”

  He gave a short laugh. “Why so caustic when we make each other feel so good?”

  She flushed. “Speak for yourself.”

  He’d been enjoying himself inside his condo until bad news had come barging in. If he could just get to kiss her again—third time was the charm, right? “You were magnificent. You held your own. No need for me to be the heavy, it turns out.”

  She opened and closed her mouth, seemingly flummoxed and unsure how to react to his words. “I forgot to sew myself a superhero cape.”

  He arched a brow at her. “You didn’t need one. Anyway, aren’t you the can-can girl? That costume I liked.”

  “Of course you did.”

  He flashed a grin. “For the record, I was on the wrestling team at Welsdale High School. Since then it’s been martial arts.” He didn’t add that he had a black belt. All that focused energy had helped him deal with both his family and his career.

  “Cole and Jordan box.” It was her turn to raise her eyebrows. “For fun.”

  “Your brothers may have wanted to hustle me out of the house, but Cole has his business reputation to think about, and Jordan has a public image to maintain, not to mention plenty of endorsement deals. Besides, Dahlia was around. Adorable kid, by the way.”

  “Someone had to inject some cuteness into the situation.”

  “We’re here,” he said with false cheer, pulling into the parking lot beside the luxury condo complex.

  A few stray raindrops hit the windshield. Just in time.

  Mia sighed, and then opened the car door.

  “When are we going back to New York?” she asked as she got out.

  He followed suit, going around to the trunk for her bag. “Not until morning. Heavy rain and thunderstorms are coming, so we’re staying put.”

  SEVEN

  “What? You can’t be serious!” Mia slammed the car door and then looked heavenward. “It doesn’t look that bad to me.”

  Damian held out a hand, and a couple of large drops plopped onto his palm. “Famous last words before the skies open, and all hell breaks loose.”

  She watched, stupefaction rending her momentarily speechless, while he swung her bag out of the trunk and turned toward the condo complex.

  Time to put her foot down, or her umbrella up—maybe both. Was there no end to today’s man trouble?

  She gesticulated with her hands as she struggled to keep up with him, rain hitting her face and hair with increasing rapidity. “It already poured. At my parents’ house when you stormed in. That’s why we should head back to New York.”

  She grabbed the strap of her overnight bag, forcing him to stop. Raindrops had wet his hair. He blinked against a droplet that clung to his eyelashes, and she watched its trajectory as it made its way down to his sensual lips and chiseled jaw.

  “There isn’t another bus back to New York at this hour from Welsdale, and you know it.”

  “I’ll rent a car then.”

  “You shouldn’t drive back in this weather.”

  “Fine. I’ll go to a hotel.” They were toe to toe as they held on to her bag, getting wetter by the second.

  “I’ve got a condo with a guest bedroom.”

  “Yes, and you come with it.”

  Damian’s lips twitched, and then he leaned toward her so they were nose to nose, too. “What’s the matter? Afraid you won’t be able to resist me?”

  She sucked in a breath, angry and embarrassed. “Oh, puh-leeze.”

  Still, his words irked her. She didn’t like weakness—much less admitting to it. And wasn’t Damian only voicing a variation of her brothers’ suspicions—that she was in danger of losing her mind over him?

  Damian straightened. “Good. Then there’s no problem.”

  Sure, she’d thought back to their kiss at the costume party—their accidental kiss. Who wouldn’t? It had been embarrassing. And hot, seductive, pleasurable. It had made all her dealings with him since then even more fraught.

  The fact that the kiss had gone on repeat a short while earlier in his condo, the one they were walking toward—well, that was harder to explain away. But she had a long ride back to New York to mull it over—alone.

  Damian stood like a rock, seemingly oblivious to the rain that continued to hit them. “For a moment there, I thought your opposition to the obvious solution meant—”

  “Well, you were wrong.”

  “Glad that’s settled.”

  She barely had time to process his words before the downpour began in earnest.

  Damian cursed, grabbed her hand, and tugged her along.

  Together they raced to the overhang sheltering a side entrance of the building.

  When they were back inside his condo, they were cold and partly soaked.

  Mia shivered and sent droplets flying.

  Putting down her bag, Damian reached into a nearby closet and tossed her one of two towels. “Here. Use this.”

  “Thanks.” She rubbed her face and hair, and then realized her white polo top was plastered to her front. Her lacy bra and erect nipples were outlined beneath.

  And judging from the direction of Damian’s stare, he’d noticed, too.

  Her gaze traveled to his chest with its clearly defined muscles... She hugged the towel to her front.

  He jerked his head toward the interior of the condo. “The guest bedroom is back there if you want to change.”

  “Thanks.” She grabbed her bag and strode forward, intent on putting some distance between herself and Damian—and regrouping.

  No way was she staying. Unfortunately for her, though, the torrential downpour continued unabated while she changed into drier clothes—sweats—and freshened up in the bathroom across the hall.

  She was caught between a rock and a hard place. If she continued to insist on leaving, she’d seem mulish and put the lie to her denial that being alone with him...what? Made her aware of herself as a woman? She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. On the other hand, if she stayed, something might happen...

  C’mon, Mia. You’ve dealt with more distracting situations than this one. She could trust herself...couldn’t she?