EIGHT

  The next morning, Damian woke to find Mia already gone from his bed. Then he realized the water was running in the guest bath. He was semi-aroused and disappointment that she wasn’t still in bed with him washed away the remnants of sleep.

  Turning his head, he saw the bedside clock said it wasn’t even half past seven. He hadn’t slept in—she’d gotten up early. With a mental shrug, he figured that maybe Mia was one of those women who didn’t want to be seen first thing in the morning. She didn’t strike him as the type, but then again, she was in the fashion business, where appearances were everything.

  Settling back against the pillow, he stretched and folded his arms behind his head. It had been damn good between them last night. And if she’d still been tucked around him this morning, he’d have picked up where they’d left off.

  He and Mia had slept together. His life had been one rapid climb, and yesterday he’d reached new heights.

  He’d also faced the Serenghettis without getting ruffled...if you didn’t count falling in lust with the firebrand of the family. Oh, yeah, he’d known he’d had a weakness. But he hadn’t realized that getting closer to her would increase the pull of attraction instead of satisfying it once and for all. His past relationships had all been short-term. He’d been far more focused on the demands of his start-up business.

  Instead, yesterday, he hadn’t been so concerned about the satisfaction of having the Serenghettis face a Musil who’d legitimately grown more successful than they were as he’d been ready to defend Mia.

  Crap, things couldn’t get any more complicated. He was known for his cool unflappability in the boardroom—he’d counted on it carrying him through a mutually beneficial arrangement with Mia Serenghetti. Instead, he’d gotten more than he bargained for. More than a taste...more than a fleeting flirtation...more everything.

  And he wanted more.

  With a grunt of sexual frustration, he lowered his arms and threw back the sheets. He showered, dressed, and headed to the kitchen to make breakfast and answer some work emails.

  When Mia appeared, she was wearing a yellow jumpsuit that wasn’t revealing but nonetheless hugged her curves. She was like the sun emerging after a storm.

  He felt a kick of lust and reined in his desire. He nodded apologetically at the food arrayed in front of him. “From frozen.”

  “I’m sure it’s delicious,” she responded brightly.

  He’d rather feast on her. He eyed the overnight bag that she’d brought out with her. “In a hurry?”

  “I wanted to be packed and ready to go,” she said, flushing but setting down the bag. “I wasn’t just taking my time to primp...in case you were wondering.”

  “Now why would I think that,” he drawled, “when you’re a fashion superstar?”

  “Aspiring.”

  “You have to dream it before you live it.”

  She came closer and picked up an empty mug. “That’s your mantra, huh?”

  He poured some coffee while she breathed in the aroma and smiled appreciatively. “It worked out okay.”

  They stood at the kitchen counter and bit into the egg sandwiches he’d made. Sunlight shafted through the windows and onto the sofa in the nearby living room.

  He watched the rays of light add to her luminescence. “The rain stopped, but it’s still wet out.”

  “Mmm,” she replied absently, and then swallowed.

  Damian reached up and swiped the corner of her mouth with his thumb. “Crumb.”

  She stilled, and he brushed her lips with his.

  “There, all better.”

  “Don’t assume this means more than it does,” she said after an awkward silence.

  “What?” he joked. “Removing a speck of food from your lips?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Isn’t that usually the guy’s line? No strings?”

  She rolled her eyes. “It happened.”

  He smiled wolfishly. “It was good.”

  “I’m not into casual hookups—”

  “Neither am I.”

  “I’m too busy with my career.”

  “Of course.”

  “But I’m a mature adult, so I know these things happen. We scratched that itch.”

  “What about if we want to do it again?”

  “I don’t respond to booty calls.”

  “Actually I prefer to text,” he teased.

  She sighed impatiently.

  “Okay, what about a date?”

  She widened her eyes. “Us? No, forget it.”

  “Why not?”

  “You know why not, and it starts with our last names.”

  He thought fast. “The Bensens think we’re a couple, so we need to play this one out.”

  “Until you get your business deal—”

  “And you have a firm contact in Katie.”

  She looked momentarily disappointed. “Right.”

  “C’mon, you wouldn’t want Carl to think that I was only a quick rebound relationship,” he said half-jokingly. “Right now, he thinks you’ve moved on with his former boss. You’re golden.”

  For some reason, the thought didn’t seem to cheer her up.

  “And let’s not forget why we fell into bed.” He lifted the side of his mouth.

  “The storm—”

  “Your rebellious streak. Face it, I’m your biggest rebellion yet.”

  “I’m more clearheaded this morning.”

  “Still gorgeous, though.”

  “My designs are meant to bring out the best in a woman.”

  Taking a sip of his coffee, he said, “Yeah, I figured the sexy jumpsuit was one of your own creations.”

  She wet her lips, but then took a step back, as if she didn’t trust herself—them—not to speed back up the wrong ramp right now.

  He sobered. “I’ve got a quick stop to make before we hit the road to New York.”

  She tilted her head.

  “JM Construction. My father asked me to drop by, and—” he shrugged “—his office is on the road back to New York.”

  Her eyes widened, and then she shrugged. “We already had our moment with the Serenghettis, so I guess that’s fair.”

  “A Serenghetti arguing to be fair to the Musils?” he murmured. “Never say never.”

  She raised her eyebrows at him before taking another sip of coffee.

  Twenty minutes later, they made their way across the parking lot to his car.

  Damian watched Mia sidestep a puddle. Then he opened the trunk and placed their bags inside. “It might be an extended conversation so you may want to come inside with me.”

  She adjusted the sunglasses perched on her head. “I guess you’ll be protecting me from your big bad family this time.”

  Damian bit back a laugh. But damn it—why did the Serenghetti-Musil competition have to rear its head again right now? He didn’t see the competition to buy the same construction company ending well. “You won’t need protecting.”

  “Because I’m a badass?” she asked.

  He snapped the trunk shut. “Yeah, and they’ll be too busy gunning for me.”

  Her eyes widened. “You’re the outlaw in a renegade clan?”

  “Do two negatives cancel each other out?” he parried, searching her gaze. “Would that make me a paragon?”

  “We’ll see,” she responded, giving him an oblique look. “Anyway, with a Serenghetti on the premises, won’t they be worried about, you know, corporate espionage...?”

  He smiled slightly. “Come on. You can judge for yourself.”

  * * *

  JM Construction was located in a nondescript commercial strip on one of the main roads leading out of Welsdale. Mia had driven by it plenty of times as a teen without giving it too much attention—except to occasionally wonder whether Damian was there.

  He’d sometimes worked a summer job for the family business like her brothers did for Serenghetti Construction. One episode in particular was imprinted on her memory. She’d been heading to a frozen yogurt store to meet up with a couple of high school girlfriends. Damian had been hauling equipment out of the back of a pickup. Their gazes had collided—he’d given her a quick sweeping look, a slight nod of the head, and then an almost imperceptible smile. She’d swept her hair off her shoulder and walked on, pretending she hadn’t noticed. Inside she’d sizzled. With annoyance. Or so she’d told herself.

  He should have known that if he so much as looked in her direction, her brothers would pounce. And yet, years later, it hadn’t stopped him...

  They’d spent the whole night together. She’d woken twice in the middle of the night—once to find Damian’s arm draped over her, and later, to find herself snuggled against him. When the sun had come up, she’d woken first and tiptoed back to the guest bedroom for a shower and to get ready—and to collect her thoughts.

  Musils and Serenghettis did not date. Or have sex. She and Damian had simply entered a mutually advantageous agreement that had gotten complicated. But there was still time to get on the right track.

  This was business. She kicked a pebble as they walked to the front door of JM Construction.

  Moments later, Mia surveyed her surroundings. The office manager was busy on the phone, an employee in work boots was exiting via a side door and voices could be heard in the back office.

  It was all rather mundane. Rather like Serenghetti Construction, actually—or rather what she remembered her family business being while she was growing up. The Musils’ company, on the other hand, clearly remained small and scrappy—an opponent nipping at the heels.

  Mia wasn’t sure what she should have been expecting. Maybe something more ominous and forbidding. Darth Vader’s theme song playing in the background, perhaps.

  Damian gestured for her to follow him and they turned a corner to the back offices.

  She recognized Jakob Musil instantly. An older version of Damian, he was standing in the hall talking to a younger man. His companion turned, and Mia recognized Valentin, Damian’s younger brother. He’d still been in middle school when she’d crossed paths with Damian at Welsdale High.

  “Damian, you’re finally here.” Jakob’s voice was gruff but his perusal was a tad quizzical.

  “Dad, this is Mia Serenghetti,” Damian said, seeming to shrug off any implicit criticism in his father’s greeting.

  Mia steeled herself, but if they were shocked or surprised, neither Jakob nor Valentin showed it.

  Instead, Jakob looked at her shrewdly for a couple of moments. “Ah, Mia Serenghetti. I remember when you were—”

  He gestured with his hand to indicate a height under five feet.

  Mia drew herself up. She might not match her brothers’ or Damian’s six-foot frames, but at five-seven, she thought she held her own these days. “Nice to see you, Mr. Musil.”

  Jakob nodded his head. “Perhaps you’ve come as the family emissary ready to negotiate about the competition to buy Tevil Construction?”

  “I know nothing about it, Mr. Musil,” Mia responded. “The family construction company is my brother Cole’s business to run these days.”

  Thanks to Jordan, she knew that Tevil Construction was the latest flashpoint between the Musils and Serenghettis. Well, except for the matter of her and Damian and their little arrangement...

  “But you are still a Serenghetti, yes? And Serg’s daughter.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Dad, Mia is here because we were invited to play a game of golf yesterday with another couple.”

  “Interesting,” Valentin commented, finally speaking up.

  “We were asked to make up a pair for golf,” Mia added quickly, and then shrugged. “You know, so much business happens on the golf course...”

  Not a couple, not a couple. Not in a real sense.

  Damian shot her an amused look, and she pursed her lips.

  What was wrong with him? The false advertising about their fake relationship was gaining a wider audience, day by day. At this rate, he should go ahead and take out a billboard in Times Square.

  Perplexed, Jakob looked at her. “So you and my son are on the same team?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Valentin quirked a brow. “Yeah, because who’d believe a Musil—”

  Damian shot his brother a quelling look.

  “It was a business outing,” Mia offered lamely.

  Valentin shrugged. “Right. Because we know Damian isn’t in your league.”

  Mia heated and bit the inside of her cheek. Was Valentin suggesting that Damian wasn’t good enough for her—or vice versa?

  “Damian isn’t in our league anymore, either,” Jakob observed.

  Well, that certainly cleared things up for her.

  Damian’s expression grew tense. “Dad—”

  “Why else do you come back so little? That condo of yours is gathering dust.”

  Not last night.

  Still, Mia felt a jolt and an inexplicable urge to defend Damian. After all, she could relate—to being overscheduled with a career and not wanting to fall back into a discouraging family dynamic, and for so many other reasons. But she clamped her mouth shut.

  “I’ve been busy,” Damian said without inflection.

  “Yes, with the new Musil empire.” Jakob looked around. “What was wrong with building on what’s here?”

  “We could use your fancy business degree,” Valentin added dryly.

  Mia glanced around at her surroundings again. They were bare bones, especially in comparison to Cole’s glossy headquarters in Welsdale these days. But JM Construction would always be the upstart nipping at Serenghetti Construction’s heels.

  “Dad, construction was never my thing even though I worked plenty of summers here.”

  “Construction too old-fashioned for you? Working with your hands and getting dirty?”

  Mia shifted uncomfortably. This was fast becoming an argument. Sort of like a mirror of her family, except she had no trouble mouthing off when it was another Serenghetti.

  Damian sighed, as if this was a conversation he’d had before. “It wasn’t that.”

  “How many generations does it take to wash the dirty money, eh?” Jakob mused, almost to himself.

  Damian said nothing but a muscle ticked in his jaw.

  Mia wanted to disappear but she was also transfixed.

  “Just remember—” Jakob nodded at his surroundings “—this business paid the bills for your education.”

  Damian raked his hand through his hair.

  Jakob turned to her. “What do you think?”

  What? “I—”

  “Let’s leave Mia out of this.”

  “Why? She’s obviously important if you brought her here.”

  Was no one listening to her protestations about a meaningless golf game?

  “And she’s also a Serenghetti. I’m sure she has strong opinions,” Jakob added.

  “Seems like we’re going to retrace old ground,” Damian muttered. “All of it.”

  Mia splayed her hands. “To be truthful, I went off to work in New York, too. I’m...biased.”

  “But you get home to visit?” Jakob pressed.

  Yup, like yesterday—much to her regret. “Well, I—”

  Jakob chuckled. “And you don’t hold any animosity toward us Musils. Because you’re not involved with Serenghetti Construction—” he gestured toward Damian “—but you are with my son.” Jakob looked slyly between Damian and Mia. “Golf game, yes?”

  “Well, to be fair, I do know that you and my family have some history.”

  Jakob lowered his brows at her words. “What history?”

  “The incident with the Kenable exec, Dad,” Damian said, breaking in. “Let’s start there, since we’re rehashing things.”

  “What about it?” Jakob shot back, lowering his brows at Damian.

  Mia was familiar with that look. She’d seen it on... Serg Serenghetti. She wondered what her father would think about the similarity to his rival and erstwhile nemesis.

  Valentin sighed and leaned his shoulder against the hallway wall. “Here we go.”

  “Dad, he got a free guest house,” Damian said.

  “Only after he was not employed by the shopping mall developer anymore.”

  “But you discussed it with him before you got the contract.”

  “It came up in conversation. But why does it matter?” Jakob said impatiently. “JM Construction was the best for the job.”

  “And he got a new guest residence for giving you the business.”

  Mia supposed an underdog had to do what an underdog had to do. Didn’t she know that herself these days, trying to break into the big time in the fashion business?

  Jakob shook his head. “No, he paid for the raw materials, and we supplied labor for the guest house. It was a small project, and now he’s a friend. What’s wrong with doing a favor for a friend?”

  Damian sighed. “Dad, we’ve been at an impasse on this issue for years. Let’s just agree to disagree.”

  Suddenly, Jakob’s shoulders lowered. “You think it’s easy struggling with a new business and a young family? Then I lost my wife. I did what I had to do to survive... Maybe I would not make the same decision again.”

  Mia flushed and her heart squeezed. “Mr. Musil, I understand.”

  All three men stilled and looked at her. She wasn’t sure who was most surprised.

  “You do, eh?” Jakob finally asked.

  “Yes. Sometimes it’s not the facts but how we choose to interpret them—and our options—at the time.” Her brother’s indictment of the Musils had seemed damning. Maybe JM Construction had made a few missteps, particularly in its earlier days, but companies changed. People could change.