Page 145 of Modern Romance September 2025 1-4
She was almost certain she accomplished little better than a scurry.
She had things to do, but she made a beeline for her own room. Five minutes. Five minutes to find her center. To…process what had just happened.
She slid into her room, closed the door behind her, then simply leaned back against it. Her hands were shaking. She curled them into fists. She closed her eyes and tried to rationalize…everything.
She had seen him naked. He had clearly held absolutely no embarrassment about that.
And why should he when he looks likethat?
Well, that was not at all a productive thought. Any more than having his naked form emblazoned on her brain now was productive.
Whyhadhe done it? She shook her head. It didn’t mean anything. He’d simply become unused to the normal rules of society by isolating himself up on that mountain. Or he could not even see her as a person, simply an object to do his bidding, and therefore it had not occurred to him how she might react to…nakedness.
That she might look. That she might…reallylook.
Either way, it hadn’tmeantanything. She’d woken him up. He’d needed to get dressed. So he’d gotten out of bed.
Naked. A tall, broad, muscular specimen of a man. Dark hair smattered in interesting places, and the most interesting thing of all…the hard, shocking length of him.
And she’d been lanced through with fire. With a distressing bolt of what could only be described asneed.
But she did notneedit or him. Her body had reacted, probably mostly to all the things she did not know about…the male body. But her mind was in chargenow, and she could chalk it all up to surprise and…well, science.
It happened, these types of reactions. Maybe not to her, but she’d read about it in books. Intense physical reactions to chemistry. He was certainly too old for her, and he was her boss. These were allintellectualreasons not to have a reaction to him, but she was smart enough to know that intellect did not always have control over feeling.
So she would have to accept that she was attracted to him. That this, of course, meant nothing. It would just require a certain kind of…bracing herself. She would not waltz into his bedroom thinking that would be a smart move. Not if he felt comfortable simply being naked.
Whatever he was doing on that mountain wasn’t simply twiddling his thumbs. He was doingsomethingto carve out all that impressive muscle. He was clearly very,verystrong. And very,very…big.
She closed her eyes against another wave of intense physical response. Something was wrong with her. Perhaps she needed some kind of therapy. She’d seek it out.
After Christmas. After she showed Diego that he was more than his grief or guilt or whatever it was that had stopped him from thinking he was a good man even before his family’s deaths.
She inhaled carefully, gave herself a reassuring nod and then pushed off the door. She had work to do.
Diego had been gone so long from “real life” that he’d forgotten how much he detested lawyers. Thisbusiness. He’d spent so much time hating himself for his selfishness that he’d forgotten at leastpartof the impetus to waste away his twenties had been prompted by how much he hated all the things his father had wanted to pass along to him.
“You were the one who set up this in the first place,” the first lawyer said, disdain dripping from every word.
Diego found himself retreating to old patterns. Impulses he’d thought had died with his family. Sarcasm, for starters. “Was I?” he drawled. “A shocking revelation.”
The lawyer’s face got very pinched looking.
“Signor, this is not so simple as a quick meeting,” the second lawyer said.
She was much more reasonable, far less stuffy. And still her words were firm and not what he wanted to hear.
“You signed over an incredible amount of responsibility to Ms. Baresi. We can untangle that responsibility, but it begs the question of who then takes it? If you are planning on staying within reach—”
“I am not.” He needed his mountain, his solace, hispenance.
“Then you’ll need someone to replace her. Living by proxy requireshavinga proxy.”
“I simply want to block her from being able to sell my own property out from under me.” He ground this out, wondering when in the last two years simple directives had come to beargumentsinstead ofhisstaff jumping to dohisbidding. How he suddenly was forced to deal with all he had eschewed.
“You need someone reachable who can handle the day-to-day needs of the castello. If it is to be you making those decisions—”
“Enough.” He’d fire the whole lot of them. He’d have Amelia make certain…
