CHAPTER 3

         The moment she entered the huge ballroom, Thea felt as though she had stepped into a different world. The colors, the lights, the flowers, the glamour… This was truly a magical wedding. The Princess found her Prince, and this was the beginning of their ‘happily-ever-after’.

         A happy ending that had been denied to Thea…

         She was doomed to pay until death for her father’s mistake. 

         Thea shook her head, preferring to leave bad things in the past where they belong and enjoy that unique scenery for a few minutes more. The orchestra was playing, the guests were dancing, and having a good time. Her eyes followed the happy couple, both looking like a fairytale.

         So happy and in love…

         And the way the groom was holding the bride while swaying on the dance floor... with such care and such tenderness. They were made for each other. 

         Pretending she was one of the guests, Thea closed her eyes and started moving slowly, following the sweet music played by the orchestra. But suddenly, someone burst into a loud laughter, breaking the magic. That made Thea feel like an intruder, so she hid behind one of the pillars, trying to find the right moment to exit the room without being caught by security.

         ‘Stop it,’ she scolded herself, lowering her gaze. ‘This is not for someone like you… You are a ghost, and you should behave like one. For your own good.’

         Before going away, Thea gave another look at the room, and then she saw HIM.

         Damiano Chiaramonte, the owner of the hotel.

         Mr. Tall, Dark, and Gorgeous.

         A King among Kings.

         The man who kept haunting her dreams.

         He ran one of the largest financial empires made of private properties all over the world, banks, a huge shipping company, and a five-star hotel chain. The Chiaramonte family was one of the most influential in the world.

         Damiano was talking to a petite brunette, but he looked so annoyed by the woman. Thea took a little step back into a shadowy corner. From there, she could spy on him… just for a while.

         He was breathtaking…

         Thea recalled seeing him for the first time exiting his private elevator, followed closely by Davide, his right hand. Damiano looked so powerful, so dangerous, and so damn sexy.

         Every single fiber in her body responded to his presence.

         Every single inch of her skin craved his touch. 

         That first day, she understood that Damiano Chiaramonte was TROUBLE with capital letters.

         That she had to stay away from him no matter what.

         Her quiet life didn’t need a tornado like Damiano. 

         From where she was standing, Thea saw him talking now with the King of Lichtenstein, the father of the bride. They looked like old pals. Well… duh! Of course, they were… Damiano looked so relaxed while talking to King Benedikt. The dancing couples obscured her view for a moment, but when she caught sight of him again, Thea saw that Damiano was looking in her direction.

“Oh, God…” she murmured.

         He spotted her!

         That was her cue to leave the ballroom and the hotel as soon as possible. The moment she was out in the hallway and started walking without being followed, Thea breathed a deep sigh of relief. She was safe.

“Miss Walker?”

         Damiano knew her name? He knew who she was?

         Her jaw dropped, and she froze.

“Yes, signor Chiaramonte.”

“Leaving already?”

         Thea turned to explain the reason for her presence there, then dug a hole in the ground and disappear from the face of the earth. But contrary to what she expected, her boss wasn’t angry. His eyes were on her, and a slow smile could be seen on his lips.

         That smile…

         Thea felt like seeing Damiano for the first time. Something kicked over in her chest. It was almost electric, as if she’d been dead and was suddenly jerked back to life.

         ‘Like Sleeping Beauty and the Prince?’ she sneered at herself.

         The sensation was so real and caught her so totally unaware that for a moment she couldn’t say a word. Then, she felt this sort of awareness. It was something she’d never felt in her almost twenty-nine years. 

“I’m sorry for intruding, signor Chiaramonte… I allowed my curiosity to have the best of me,” she said when she finally found her voice. “It won’t happen again.”

“I see,” Damiano replied, nodding slowly. “What’s your opinion?”

“About what?” Thea asked, quite confused.

“About what you saw.”

“It’s a fairytale. It’s something every little girl dreams about…”

“Are you one of those little girls?” Damiano asked, taking a little step in her direction.

“Not anymore,” she replied in a sad tone. “Well, it’s late…” Thea added, because she felt obliged to say something in the face of the steady, assessing look Damiano was giving her. “Goodnight, signore. (Ita. Sir)”

         Thea started to back away, but he followed. His gaze was determined now, his eyes so dark they were almost black.

“Thea…”

         First name basis? Since when?

“Yes, signor Chiaramonte?” she said politely.

“I was thinking… How about we skip the formalities? ‘Signor Chiaramonte’ is my father. I’m Damiano. Just a simple man.”

         ‘No, you are my boss. And you’re far from being simple.’

“Signor Chiaram…”

“Damiano,” he corrected her.

         Once again, she felt that sudden jolt of awareness, and that made her quite nervous. Her initial thought exploded in her brain: Damiano Chiaramonte was trouble.

“I believe that we shouldn’t skip the formalities, signore… You are the owner of this place, and I’m just an employee. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

         Thea turned abruptly, willing to get away as quickly as possible. But before she could take a step, strong fingers chained her wrist, anchoring her right where she was. She looked back at him, eyes wide.

“Signore?”

“Damiano.”

         She didn’t repeat his name, because she recognized it for what it was: an invitation to continue this pointless, dangerous conversation. And she didn’t want to do that.

“Signor Chiaramonte…”

“I don’t want to go back there, Thea. I’m done socializing for tonight. Keep me company, please… Pretend I’m just Damiano and talk to me…”

         There was a smooth, persuasive note in his voice.

“I…”

         Thea stopped, wanting to say no, expecting herself to say no. After all, she always said no. But now she couldn’t seem to form the word.

“Talk about what?” she said finally, warily.

         Damiano raised a brow.

“How about the… architectural renovations in my private suite?”

         She couldn’t help it and laughed. Damiano laughed, too, then grinned at her.

“Wow… I did it!” he exclaimed. “I’m glad I could make you smile. Up until tonight, I thought you weren’t capable. At least, I never saw you smile.”

         Thea resisted the pull of attraction.

“Oh, I smile... a lot,” she contradicted him.

“But how often do you mean it?”

“Often!”

“But not when I’m around,” Damiano countered. “Not until now.”

         She opened her mouth to protest, to tell him that he wasn’t always there and that, until that moment, they had never shared such an intimate moment. Damiano placed a finger on her lips.

“Come with me,” he said, and grabbed her hand.

“Where?”

“Somewhere far away from this hallway.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to dance with you.”

         It was pure charm… The rough baritone voice, the slightly crooked smile, the touch of that single finger against her lips. And its simplicity caught her off guard. So did the unexpected stab of desire she felt to do exactly that. Disconcerted, Thea shook her head.

“No,” she murmured. “Thank you.”  

“Why not?”

         His fingers lightly pressed her wrist. His eyes wouldn’t let hers go.

“You’re not supposed to ask ‘why not’,” she replied irritably. “It’s bad manners.”

         A corner of his mouth quirked.

“I thought it was bad manners for you to say no.”

         She felt like an awkward teenager, her cheeks burning. But she managed a little shake of her head.

“I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“Can’t?”

         Damiano cocked his head.

“Or won’t?”

         Thea took refuge in the truth.

“I’m tired, and my feet are killing me,” she replied simply, lifting her shoulders.

         Damiano did a double-take. Then he glanced down at the black heels trapping her feet. 

“Oh…”

         He scowled fiercely at them, then looked up to flash her a quick grin.

“Come with me.”

         And he almost dragged her to one of the tables in the private part of the back garden. From there, she could hear the music.

“Sit.”

         It sounded more like a command than an invitation. But getting off her feet was a welcome prospect, so obediently, Thea sat. She expected he would sit down beside her. Instead, Damiano kneeled in front of her and, before she knew it, he’d taken both her shoes off and tossed them under the table. She let out a little yelp.

“Signor Chiaramonte… What are you…?”

“I don’t know why you, women, wear such terrible shoes.”

         Damiano shook his head, his dark eyes locking with hers accusingly, his fingers caressing her instep. She tried to find a good reason, but his touch was robbing her of intelligible speech. And when he began to rub each of her pinched feet gently between his hands, she nearly moaned.

         It felt heavenly.

         And intimate.

         His touch sent bolts of awareness straight through her. She wanted him to stop, and at the same time, nearly sobbed when he let go and pulled his hands away.

“There now…”

         He stood up in one fluid movement.

“Better?”

         Thea looked up, dazed to see him looking down, imperious, in command, his gaze compelling. All she could do was nod.

“Then, dance with me.”

         And he pulled her to her feet and straight into his arms.

         It was magic.

         Damiano swirled her off her stocking-clad feet and led her into the waltz, right there, in the freshly mowed grass.

         Once upon a time, she loved to dance. Once upon a time, she loved to smile, to laugh wholeheartedly. Not anymore. Not since her father messed up their lives and, with one decision, canceled her entire existence as Thea knew it. 

“Something wrong?” he asked, the moment she stopped.

         Everything.

         Nothing.

         She shook her head, still dazed by this out-of-body experience, then glanced around, just to be sure no one was seeing her with the boss.

“Then keep dancing with me, Thea. And smile,” he commanded her. “I like it when you smile.”

         And he smiled again, too, as if forming a smile of his own could prompt her. It seemed that it could. Thea’s lips curved. Apparently, her mouth was as malleable as her feet. Damiano nodded.

“Yes. Like that.”

         He pulled her close. Now, her breasts pressed against his jacket. And as she was not overly well-endowed, that meant all the rest of her was very close to him, too. Through her outfit, Thea could feel his legs brush against hers. Her knees wobbled. Damiano held her closer still. 

“I’m sorry…” she apologized, trying to straighten and pull back.

         But Damiano didn’t let go.

“It’s okay…”

         His voice was a purr in her ear. The vibration sent a tingle down her spine. And her brain leaped ahead, going exactly where she didn’t want it to go.

“Now what?” he murmured as he must have felt her stiffen in his arms.

         Thea gave a little shake of her head.

“Nothing. I think that we should…”

“Thea, just for tonight, you need to stop thinking.”

         She could hear the smile in his voice, and as he turned his head, Thea thought she felt his lips against her hair. The shiver was back, sliding down her spine. This was so unprofessional. And so wrong.

         On every level.