Free Bought by Her Italian Boss by Dani Collins Page A

swan me in and out of Italian boutiques is not exactly the picture I want to paint so my stepbrother will let me continue visiting the only father I’ve ever had.”
    She looked at him, blinking several times to bring her vision back from a wall of white to see his toughened yet brutally handsome expression.
    “But I’m hardly in a position to demand the luxury of pride, am I?” she added caustically.
    He was watching her with a gravity that made her feel naked all over again. “Would he really stop you from seeing him?” he asked.
    She shrugged. “I don’t know,” she muttered. “He loves his father as much as I do and wants to protect him. He wasn’t trying to be cruel. I mean, you’d probably say the same thing to your own father in that situation, wouldn’t you?”
    Vito’s stare was inscrutable. He held her gaze for a long time, like he had a million responses and was sifting for the best one. He settled on saying, “Eat,” and lowered his attention to his plate.
    Well, that settled that, didn’t it, she thought facetiously, and forced herself to take a bite.
    * * *
    No matter how sincere Gwyn seemed, Vito couldn’t afford to let himself be swayed emotionally. While she finished getting ready, he reviewed her background more thoroughly.
    She interrupted, emerging from the bathroom with a more natural look that was infinitely more beautiful than last night’s smoky eyes and sharp cheekbones and red, glossy lips painted by the stylist. Gwyn had frowned when he’d handed her the pots of color and paint, grumbling about not wanting to look like a ghost if she was going to be photographed. If not for that, she implied, she wouldn’t have accepted the makeup at all.
    “What do we do with last night’s clothes?” She looked for them.
    “I’ve made arrangements.”
    She stared at him.
    He lifted his brow in inquiry.
    “I borrowed something. I want to be sure it’s returned in good condition,” she said.
    “It will be.” He frowned, annoyed by what sounded like a lack of faith, but also seeing yet more evidence of the do-it-myself streak of independence she seemed to have. “I reviewed your file and some other details,” he told her as they left the room.
    She looked over her shoulder at him, dismayed, but not fearful. “Like?”
    Her financial situation. Her debt level was low, but she had a little, and hadn’t made any significant payments or purchases recently. There had been nothing to red flag her as possessing or spending a sum that might have been embezzled. Instead, he’d found more evidence that she was exactly as she portrayed herself.
    “You’ve worked hard for the education and position you’ve attained,” he acknowledged once they were in the privacy of the elevator. “But Fabrizio signed off on your transfer despite there being two candidates with more experience. It supports what you said yesterday, that you might have been recruited because you were green and possibly more likely to let things slide out of ignorance.”
    “So you’re willing to believe it based on your own assessment of hard evidence, but nothing I say has any bearing. My word means nothing to you. Isn’t that the story of every woman’s life.” She shrugged on the cloak of righteous anger she’d been wearing since he met her, but he could sense the hurt beneath.
    He wasn’t sure what kind of reaction he expected, but he hadn’t expected that. His belief in her meant something to her. It made him realize exactly how much power he had over her and he wasn’t sure he was comfortable with it.
    Since when did he not embrace power? He loved it!
    But he was suddenly confronted with how vulnerable she was. To all the men in her life, but especially to him, right now. It slapped at his conscience, made him think again about her saying he would protect his father. The joke was on her. His real mother had been light-years ahead of his father in social status, belonging to the Donatelli banking clan. His