should be showing a small but respectable profit.’
‘Bad management?’ Antonio asked. Strangely, he felt a little disappointed. Sienna would only be his pretend wife, but he wanted to believe she was good at her job.
‘That’s not it,’ Brad said.
‘So?’
‘I don’t know yet but the accountant is being very cagey.’
‘You suspect him?’
‘He took over complete management of the hotel’s finances when Sienna’s mother died.’
Antonio sat a little straighter in his chair. ‘Her mother died?’
‘Honestly, Antonio. You’re marrying the woman in a few days, don’t you think you should know that?’ Brad was the only person who knew the strategy behind the marriage plan. He didn’t approve.
‘I don’t need to know everything about her for this to work.’
‘Sienna mightn’t be able to compartmentalise her emotions like you can.’
Brad was Antonio’s closest associate, but he was walking very close to an uncrossable line. ‘Back to this accountant,’ Antonio said stiffly.
‘Sienna’s father hasn’t done a day’s work since his wife died. Apparently he suffered a complete breakdown. Now he either sits in the lobby like a statue or, on good days, goes down to the Italian club.’
That’s why Marco wasn’t at the meeting.
‘And there’s more.’ Brad’s voice had dropped. ‘The loan money has clearly been spent, but I can’t work out on what.’
‘What do you suspect?’
‘Sienna took over all management activities after her father’s breakdown and this accountant stepped in as financial controller.’
‘You don’t trust him.’
‘The Plaza accounts have been managed by the same firm for twenty years. The senior partner retired not long after Sienna took over management and his son stepped into the role. Apparently the two families are friends.’
‘Friends and business,’ Antonio said grimly. ‘Why do people think that’ll ever work?’
‘We’re friends,’ Brad interjected.
‘We worked together first. Understand the boundaries.’ Antonio glanced at his watch. ‘I’ve got to go. Stay on it.’
‘Ask Sienna about it.’
‘No,’ Antonio said. ‘I don’t want to distract her.’
‘Antonio, don’t you think —’
‘Give me a report at the wedding. Have you sent Sabatini your measurements?’
‘Yes.’ Brad paused. ‘Even though this marriage is just a business arrangement, I’ll be proud to stand next to you on your wedding day.’
Antonio swallowed. This was exactly the emotional territory he strictly avoided. ‘Got to go,’ he said, snapping his phone shut.
He locked his office door and walked into the hotel foyer. A number of staff greeted him. He loved this place. It had kept him sane in the midst of intolerable grief. Hurling himself into work taught him how to bury his feelings. They were locked up so tight he would never again be in danger of being overwhelmed. He pressed the button for the lift. Never again would he allow that pain to touch him. He was armoured against it.
He reached the penthouse. Opening the door, he walked into the sitting room. He’d dressed earlier in his dinner jacket and hoped Sienna would be ready. They were on a tight schedule.
Sienna stood on the terrace, her gown glittering, reflecting Venice’s evening lights. As he stepped closer, he realised the floor-length black sequined dress was backless. Her hair was styled in a French knot and he enjoyed the view of an expanse of golden skin from her shoulders to just above her bottom. He drew in a long slow breath in an attempt to control the heat firing inside him.
She turned.
He sucked in a sharp ragged breath as naked lust swept his body. Smoky make-up highlighted her espresso-coloured eyes. Her full lips were painted scarlet red. He damned the strict clauses Sienna had insisted be in the contract.
To hell with them.
He strode to her and took her about the waist, hearing her breath catch in her throat. She felt soft and luscious. A lovely change from
‘Bad management?’ Antonio asked. Strangely, he felt a little disappointed. Sienna would only be his pretend wife, but he wanted to believe she was good at her job.
‘That’s not it,’ Brad said.
‘So?’
‘I don’t know yet but the accountant is being very cagey.’
‘You suspect him?’
‘He took over complete management of the hotel’s finances when Sienna’s mother died.’
Antonio sat a little straighter in his chair. ‘Her mother died?’
‘Honestly, Antonio. You’re marrying the woman in a few days, don’t you think you should know that?’ Brad was the only person who knew the strategy behind the marriage plan. He didn’t approve.
‘I don’t need to know everything about her for this to work.’
‘Sienna mightn’t be able to compartmentalise her emotions like you can.’
Brad was Antonio’s closest associate, but he was walking very close to an uncrossable line. ‘Back to this accountant,’ Antonio said stiffly.
‘Sienna’s father hasn’t done a day’s work since his wife died. Apparently he suffered a complete breakdown. Now he either sits in the lobby like a statue or, on good days, goes down to the Italian club.’
That’s why Marco wasn’t at the meeting.
‘And there’s more.’ Brad’s voice had dropped. ‘The loan money has clearly been spent, but I can’t work out on what.’
‘What do you suspect?’
‘Sienna took over all management activities after her father’s breakdown and this accountant stepped in as financial controller.’
‘You don’t trust him.’
‘The Plaza accounts have been managed by the same firm for twenty years. The senior partner retired not long after Sienna took over management and his son stepped into the role. Apparently the two families are friends.’
‘Friends and business,’ Antonio said grimly. ‘Why do people think that’ll ever work?’
‘We’re friends,’ Brad interjected.
‘We worked together first. Understand the boundaries.’ Antonio glanced at his watch. ‘I’ve got to go. Stay on it.’
‘Ask Sienna about it.’
‘No,’ Antonio said. ‘I don’t want to distract her.’
‘Antonio, don’t you think —’
‘Give me a report at the wedding. Have you sent Sabatini your measurements?’
‘Yes.’ Brad paused. ‘Even though this marriage is just a business arrangement, I’ll be proud to stand next to you on your wedding day.’
Antonio swallowed. This was exactly the emotional territory he strictly avoided. ‘Got to go,’ he said, snapping his phone shut.
He locked his office door and walked into the hotel foyer. A number of staff greeted him. He loved this place. It had kept him sane in the midst of intolerable grief. Hurling himself into work taught him how to bury his feelings. They were locked up so tight he would never again be in danger of being overwhelmed. He pressed the button for the lift. Never again would he allow that pain to touch him. He was armoured against it.
He reached the penthouse. Opening the door, he walked into the sitting room. He’d dressed earlier in his dinner jacket and hoped Sienna would be ready. They were on a tight schedule.
Sienna stood on the terrace, her gown glittering, reflecting Venice’s evening lights. As he stepped closer, he realised the floor-length black sequined dress was backless. Her hair was styled in a French knot and he enjoyed the view of an expanse of golden skin from her shoulders to just above her bottom. He drew in a long slow breath in an attempt to control the heat firing inside him.
She turned.
He sucked in a sharp ragged breath as naked lust swept his body. Smoky make-up highlighted her espresso-coloured eyes. Her full lips were painted scarlet red. He damned the strict clauses Sienna had insisted be in the contract.
To hell with them.
He strode to her and took her about the waist, hearing her breath catch in her throat. She felt soft and luscious. A lovely change from
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