Maceo laughed. “Not during Carnevale”
Ori grinned. “That’s what Lucia said. What’s your point?”
Maceo sat back. Ori tried not to look at the open neck of his shirt or the swarthy skin of his chest. “I want to offer you a job, Ori. I need a curator to work ahead of our current schedule and line up exhibits months, even years, in the future. You have contacts at MOMA and the Guggenheim, right?”
Ori nodded, her interest piqued. “All of the big guns, plus a lot of the small galleries”
“Contacts like those are invaluable” Maceo sighed, his handsome face serious for once. “Ori, we put together the exhibition we have now by the skin of our teeth. We simply don’t have the time to fill our schedule at the moment, which means we miss out on the best pieces. I need someone like you, not just for the big names but as a scout finding new talent, as well as negotiating with galleries worldwide”
Ori was speechless for a moment. Maceo Bartoli, whether he knew it or not, had just described her dream job. Actually, dream job didn’t evenbeginto cover it. And this man, this charming, gorgeous, yet completely untrustworthy man, was offering it to her right here, right now.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Forgive me for asking … you know if I work for you that there’s even less a chance of me sleeping with you, right?”
For a moment, she wished she could take back the words because maybe, just maybe, she saw a little hurt in his eyes. But a second later Maceo smiled, and the cocky businessman was back.
“So does that mean that until you start work for me, thereisa chance?”
Ori couldn’t help but chuckle at him. “Absolutely none. Can I think about the job?”
Maceo smiled. “Of course. May I at least take you to dinner to say thank you for tonight?”
God, it was tempting, but if she let him wine and dine her, there was no way she’d be able to resist that smile, that body, those green, green eyes …
“I can’t. But thank you”
He nodded. “Then let me call you a water taxi”
He kissed her hand before she got into the water taxi and, as she was driven away through the canals, she looked back toward the dock. He was still there, watching her. He raised his hand and, unthinkingly, Ori did the same. Before she even made it back to her apartment, she knew she would tell him yes to the job.
And not just because it was her dream job.
Ori never sawthe man in the shadows outside the apartment. He watched her go in and lock the door after herself. Then, as lights came on in the first-floor window, he smiled to himself. He walked a little down the street so he could not be seen or heard if she came out onto the balcony. He hoped she would—the girl was a looker, all right.
He pulled his cell phone out. “It’s me. Yeah. You can tell him it’s confirmed. His stepdaughter is in Venice, as we thought. What does he want me to do?” He listened carefully and began to smile. “Yeah, okay. Twenty-four hours”
He shut off his phone and stared up at the balcony. “Come on, Juliet. Show Romeo something here”
He grinned as Ori, now changed into a slouchy sweater and pajama pants, stepped out onto the balcony, a cup of steaming tea in her hands. Her dark hair tumbled over her shoulders. The observer felt his groin tighten. No wonder Janek wanted her found.
He almost felt sorry for the girl. He was absolutely sure that Janek didn’t have good things planned for this little beauty. Not good things at all.
Ori leaned her hot forehead against the cool tiles of the shower. The water spray was hot against her skin, but she barely felt it, concentrated as she was on imagining Maceo Bartoli’s hands where hers were now between her legs, relentlessly massaging her clit until her vision exploded with stars and she gasped through her orgasm. She panted for air, reveling in the sensation.
Goddamn you, Maceo Bartoli.Her dreams had been full of him—mostly a continuation from last night. Him stopping her before she left his office, reaching around and freeing her hair from its bun, tugging open the white blouse, tiny white buttons flying everywhere. Her pushing him into his chair and straddling him; his cock filling her …
“Oh, goddamn you, Maceo Bartoli,” she whispered as another orgasm ripped through her. She’d woken up hornier than she had been in years—maybe even ever. For a second now, as she panted her way back to sanity, she wondered whether she should just go ahead and fuck him. Tell him no strings, no need to call. Just a sensational, mind-blowing fuck.
She laughed out loud. “What is the matter with you, girl?” She dressed quickly in sweats and set out to clean the entire apartment, distracting herself. Mid-morning, she heard her phone beep and checked it.
Made up your mind yet?
She grinned.About the job? Yes. I’ll take it. Thank you.
Good. See you Monday … unless I can persuade you to join me for dinner tonight?
Yes, yes, yes.Mr. Bartoli, I don’t think that is a good idea.
Take a risk ...
