CHAPTER EIGHT
AT THE MOMENT, no one would suspect Gabriella was a princess, as she was doing an excellent impersonation of a potted plant. She was all but hugging the back wall, dressed in a rather understated pencil skirt and a cream-colored top, complete with a single-string pearl necklace. Her dark hair was partly down, the front pulled back by a clip, the large glasses still fixed on her face.
She looked exactly as an assistant should. And yet, Alex found himself irritated by it.
The other women in the room were dressed in bright colors, saucy cocktail dresses designed to aid in the flaunting of their figures. Their hair expertly styled. And they were certainly not hanging on to the wall. He found that he wanted to see Gabriella without her glasses. That he wondered what it might be like to get a good look at her large, brown eyes. That he might like to see her full lips painted red.
And he kne
w he would like to see her figure in something designed to flatter it.
He would never be a very great appreciator of art, but he was certainly an appreciator of the female form. And as such, he would simply like to see this one done up with a bit more finesse. That was all. All that discussion of beauty had been on his mind.
She wasn’t talking to anyone, rather she seemed to be closely regarding the paintings on the wall. More than that, she seemed to be examining the molding, the floor, the baseboards, the wallpaper… She seemed to be having an entire love affair with the house.
Though he imagined that was to be expected. This was her ancestral home. She had never been here.
He imagined that must bring up all sorts of thoughts.
His family was originally from Italy, and he lived in America. But he had never felt displaced. Giovanni had often told him stories of how he had come to the US, how he had worked his way up from nothing to become one of the most successful men in the nation. Alex enjoyed going to Italy, but he supposed the point of it all was that he could. Yet, while in a technical sense Gabriella could have come to Isolo D’Oro, there would have always been a block of some kind. Her family hadn’t left of their own accord. They had been banished. It was an entirely different circumstance. One that was quite heavy. And it seemed to be hitting her with its full impact.
“Alessandro Di Sione, right?”
Alex turned to his left and saw a shimmering blonde regarding him with her bright blue eyes. Now this was a woman who had taken great pains to flaunt every aspect of her beauty to its greatest advantage. The entirety of her potential was on display before him. There was nothing to wonder about. Nothing at all.
Except perhaps how she would look naked.
Though he had seen enough women naked to be able to guess. He studied her for a moment. He was so confident with his estimation of the size of her breasts without the cleavage-enhancing bra, of the color of her nipples based on her coloring in general, that he found he ultimately wasn’t even curious.
“My name is Samantha,” she said, smiling grandly, both realizing she’d lost him before she’d ever started. “I’ve followed your business exploits with great interest recently.”
The way she said exploits left him in little doubt that it wasn’t his business she had been paying attention to.
“Oh, have you?” he asked. “Perhaps you could tell me about them. I rarely pay attention myself.”
She laughed, a high, sharp sound that shot down his spine like an arrow before ricocheting back up to the base of his skull. She touched his arm, leaning in closer. “I didn’t know you were funny. I had heard you were frightening.”
“Boo,” he said.
She laughed again and he fought to keep from cringing.
He flicked a glance across the room at Gabriella, who was watching this interaction between himself and Samantha with what appeared to be great interest. She was now literally standing next to a potted plant, her hand closed around a leaf, her posture rigid.
He couldn’t begin to guess what she was thinking. Couldn’t begin to guess much of anything about her.
With Gabriella there were a great many unanswered questions.
“Really, we must make more time to get to know each other over the course of the week,” she was purring now, all but arching into him like a very needy cat.
“What exactly brings you to the party?” he asked. He didn’t care what her answer was. Not in the least. His attention was split between her and the little dark-haired woman with glasses standing against the wall. But he didn’t think she noticed. She was far too involved in the performance she was putting on with him.
And he was too busy regarding Gabriella to listen to what she had to say. Which was a shame, really, for Samantha at least. He had a feeling she was putting her full effort into this. An intended seduction, or whatever nonsense she had in her head.
Strange, because in most circumstances he would be more than willing to take her up on the unspoken offer. But not now. He wasn’t sure what it was. Perhaps the little bespectacled witch had cast a spell on him. He smiled ruefully, dimly aware that his companion Samantha had likely taken that smile as her due. And of course, it was actually owed to Gabriella.
Very strange. She wasn’t the kind that revealed itself immediately. It was more like the sun shining through the trees as you drove down the highway. He would catch flashes of golden light before it faded away again into the darkness. But it was there. And when it struck him directly it was so intense, so brilliant, that it stopped him where he stood.
His eyes caught hers and held for a second before she looked down sharply, obviously embarrassed to have been caught staring at him. He felt no such embarrassment over being caught staring at her.