Chapter 4

AILANI’S POV)

And at the corner of those glass walls stood Enzo Romano …

 Shirtless!!!.

Warmth coated me, flushing my skin bright red. I had to wrestle a gasp back down before it was able to make an ugly appearance.

His broad shoulders were drenched in the golden rays from the sun. His torso was marked with scars, spanning across his back in cruel slashes. The image itself should be appalling but it only heightens his masculinity. 

A suit jacket hung lazily from his desk chair, discarded while his dress shirt laid unbuttoned in the seat, both fabrics as if they never existed, totally forgotten.

I could feel him in every inch of this room. This man looked like he could end humanity with one wave of his hand. 

“You're late.” He mentioned, his voice thick with an Italian accent and hands dug low into his pockets.

I tore my gaze from the sharp linings of his back. My mouth watering at the sight.

This was the man I was supposed to deal with?!! God really had favourites.

“And you’re inappropriate.” I retorted, willing my pulse to behave.

This earned his attention. He turned around, his eyes boring into mine as if he were stripping off layers that I hadn't agreed to remove while goosebumps peppered my skin at their intensity.

If Elijah was overwhelming then this man is extreme.

He turned his gaze back to the glass window not bothering to dignify her response with an answer.

My nerves were acting up at that point, sweaty palms staining the brown envelope in my arms. 

“Miss Hart…” he started, his velvetly smooth voice wrapped around me like a blanket. “Punctuality is valued here.” His arms crossed over his chest. “It’s a skill average people develop when billionaires run the clock.” He finished, leaving me utterly stunned by his arrogance. I didn’t expect him to be welcoming. But I also didn't expect him to have a stick so far up his ass.

“I ran into some traffic problems, in a city as big as this the less privileged are forced to follow the transportation systems.” I dug back at him.

“Your lack of mobility is of no concern to me, what concerns me is my time, which you are so generously wasting.” His muscles flexed taut with tension as he approached his desk. Typical predator behaviour.

“Have a seat.” He offered as I watched him slide on his dress shirt , slowly closing up each button. His movements were like liquor running down the sides of a glass. Slow, smooth and sensual.

I felt like stretching over the table, grabbing one of his expensive signature pens and stabbing him with it, just to make him look less insufferable. 

“You’ll have to forgive my former state”... His eyes trailed  towards my hands that were now resting on the desk with a slight tremble to them. ”I was interrupted,” he smirked.

“So if you would be kind enough to start I would be very pleased”

I adjusted myself under his scrutiny and brought out the documents containing my research.

 I was seated whilst he stood towering over me. His face was still unreadable but now there was a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Warning alarms were going off in my head. It almost felt like he was toying with me. 

“My name is Ailani Hart, lead architect working on the Dominion mansion redesign and modelling.”

“I know exactly who you are.” He moved closer, his steps came out heavy on the marbled floor as he walked around his desk and came to a stop in front of  me.

Up close he was even more intimidating than before.

He was so close that I could feel his body heat radiating off him as he dipped his head down until we were at the same eyelevel, the smell of his cologne clouding my senses. A mixture of spice and sanderwood, an alluring combination.

The was tension building like a thick fog.

The warning alarms turned into full blown sirens, and a knot tightened in my stomach.

A ghost of a smirk graced his features but it didn’t last long and soon he was back to his emotionless mask.

“Well Miss Hart let's begin.” He stepped back, circling the desk back to his previous spot and just as if the spell was broken, I could finally breathe again.

Reaching for her tablet she pulled up the research schematics for the project. “Dominion mansion has an ambitious remodeling theme but I assume you didn't hire me for aesthetics?” I directed my question at him, fingers typing away on the tablet.

“No, I hired you because you can see what others don't.” He grumbled.

I froze and my eyes became the same size as sauce pans ”You’ve read about my work?”

“Your works are intriguing, I think I'm becoming a fan.” He ran his fingers over his lips, a teasing lint in his tone.

I diverted my eyes from him, hoping he wouldn't notice my cheeks heating up again.

I wanted to run my hands through my hair but I remembered that I spent over fifteen minutes trying to tame it into a sleek bun.

“Your building,” I threaded carefully, “... is complicated, the materials are responding differently, almost as if they were resisting.”

His jaw tightened, veins running along the side of his neck making a pleasant appearance.

“You can feel that?” He asked curiously, his eyes searching mine for any traces of lies.

“Yes, before I thought it was due to stress resonance but now I'm not so sure.”

“Maybe the problem is the foundation, if we could make some changes-”

You will not alter the foundation.” He uttered in silent warning, as he traced lazy circles on his oakwood desk.

I raised my chin in defiance, ready to argue back.

“You will not touch the foundation without my consent.” He sharpened his warning, pinning me with a harsh glare.

“And if the design requires-”

“It won’t.” He cut me off and I  swallowed my words.

“I don’t take jobs where the truth is off-limits Mr Romano.” I sighed, annoyance bleeding through my words.

“Architetta.” He leaned over the desk, hands gripping each side while his voice dropped dangerously low. ”Then this job may take more from you than you expect.”