The Marriage Mistake

Chapter Eight

“I need you in Vegas. Tomorrow.”

Max groaned, tossed his cold cup of coffee in the trash, and pulled out his bottom drawer for the good stuff. Taking out two shot glasses, he poured grappa, handed one to Michael, and saluted.

A quick snap of the glass and the liquid went down hot and smooth. “You’re killing me, Michael. I’ve got the opening in New Paltz next week and you want me to leave now?”

Michael rubbed his fingers over his face in his trademark gesture of frustration. “I’m sorry, my friend, I hate to do this to you. The Venetian Hotel in Vegas is interested in putting in our store, and I need someone to get my buyer to commit. Sawyer Wells is in charge now. Aren’t you two friends?”

“Yeah, known him for years now.”

“Good. I planned to make the trip myself, but Mama decided to fly in early. I can’t leave this week.”

He frowned. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, but Maggie can’t travel at this stage and I don’t want to leave her. Mama’s coming in tomorrow. She wants to see Maggie with her own eyes before the birth.”

“How’s her health? Is she still having heart problems?”

Michael shook his head. “She always needs to be watched, but Julietta says she’s doing quite well. The doctor examined her and said she will have no trouble making a long flight. I need you to stay in Vegas for a few days, Max. Close the deal.”

Max nodded. “Done.”

Michael’s face relaxed and he let out a deep sigh. “Thank you. I’ll handle any issues here. Oh, and I’m sending Carina with you.”

He shot out of the chair like his ass was on fire. “What? Absolutely not.”

His friend shot him a confused look. “Why?”

He decided to pace and work off the sudden tension that pulled uncomfortably at his muscles. “She’s not ready for something like this. I need to concentrate and I can’t worry about watching over her.”

Michael leaned back and waved a hand in the air. “Understood. You do not have to babysit her.” He grinned. “I’m sorry the thing with Victoria didn’t work out, but I bet within a few days you’ll have some lovely Vegas showgirl on your arm. Carina won’t cramp your style. This is an opportunity for her to learn from the beginning how we go about signing the initial deal. She needs to see all the steps and will be there to assist you in any paperwork, errands, etc. I can send Edward with you. He is an excellent salesperson. He can help show our commitment.”

The grappa came back up from his stomach and choked him. He coughed violently while his head spun. Michael got up to pound him on the back. “Not Edward,” he managed to gasp. “I’ve been having some, er, issues with him.”

“Do I need to step in?”

“No! No, I have it under control. I don’t need anyone else on the trip. I can handle it. We’ll be fine. I can lock this up by myself. No need for a salesperson at this stage.”

“Yes, I know you can.” Michael placed a hand on his shoulder. “This business would never have happened without you, my friend. Thank you for always being there.”

An image of Carina backed up against the door with her dress pulled down flashed before his memory. Sweat pricked his forehead. “No problem.”

“I’ll tell Carina to be ready for a morning flight.” He reached into his briefcase and gave him a thick file. “Here is the paperwork. I’ll have the jet fueled and ready by nine.”

When the door shut behind him, Max groaned. Oh, yeah. He was definitely getting bad karma for that one moment of gut-wrenching pleasure with the only woman he couldn’t have. Now he had to spend a few days in Vegas with her. Alone.

He fought down panic. Maybe he was overestimating his stock. Carina hadn’t made one reference to that night since her announcement. His ego still burned at not being able to tell his Victoria lusted after another man. One he’d actually met before. Even worse was the knowledge they’d had no sexual chemistry. He’d been desperate enough to create some, but her need to marry with her father’s pressure probably stirred panic. Their long conversation was fruitful, and she finally admitted her true feelings for Richard. He kissed her on the forehead and wished her luck, hoping he’d convinced her to take the leap and go after the man she loved.

As for Carina, she pretended nothing happened between them. She acted breezy. Friendly. Casual. Like they’d never had each other’s tongues in their mouths and he’d never had his fingers around her nipple.

Stop.

Vegas was business. She wanted to learn. There was no reason to panic over the idea of spending a few days with her.

The lure of a new deal sang in his blood. The hell with it. He loved Vegas. The heat. The adrenaline. The sin. He’d be seeing his old friend, play some poker, and do what he did best. Close a deal and find a woman for a little while. Someone to take his mind off Carina and get his head back in the game.

He grabbed the file and got to work.

Carina tried hard not to bounce up and down in her seat like a child, but being cool was getting more difficult. The limo coasted down the streets of Vegas and her senses short-circuited. A city that lived for one reason and boasted the goal from the rooftops: pleasure. A place to lose herself, her inhibitions, and finally get Max into bed.

Welcome to Vegas.

Max watched her with barely veiled amusement but she didn’t care. “Can we go see Celine Dion?”

He wrinkled his nose. “Hell, no.”

“Cirque du Soleil?”

His lip quirked. “Maybe. If I’m drunk enough.”

She stuck out her tongue and he laughed. “I refuse to let your jaded view spoil my pleasure. I dreamed of coming to Vegas and can’t believe I’m here. Do the showgirls really walk around practically naked?”

“Yes.”

“How many times have you been here?”

He relaxed back into the seat and Carina hid her hungry stare. Dressed in a dark business suit, with gold custom cuff links, his hair neatly tamed, he’d turn every woman’s head, including a Vegas showgirl’s. Animal-like grace trapped in civility. The bright red tie hinted at what simmered beneath the surface, and her fingers itched to rip it off in the limo, lower the smoked screen, and act out one of her naughty fantasies. Instead, she remained still and listened to his answer. “A few for business. Some for pleasure.”

“I bet. No Elvis weddings you annulled, right?”

“Brat.”

She smiled and stuck her head out the window, abandoning any demeanor of sophistication. The muggy air pressed down on her and sprung her curls into frizzy disaster but she didn’t care. They pulled into the Venetian Hotel and Carina laughed at the fake imagery of Italy around her. The sleek marble sculptures, numerous water fountains, and lush greenery beckoned her farther into the majestic opening doors. She expected Vegas hotels to be a bit over the top and glitzy, but there was an undertone of sheer elegance with the furnishings.

Michael stopped at the front desk. Her head bounced back and forth as she tried to take in the full power punch of the casino lobby. A giant golden sphere dominated the center of the highly polished floor, set off by soaring columns, large archways, and an elaborately painted ceiling to rival Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel. The whirling array of textures, colors, and lushness fogged her senses with pleasure.

They received their key and were ushered to the tower. Up, up, up they climbed, until the giant from “Jack and the Beanstalk” seemed to be their neighbor. The elevator doors opened, and they keyed in their code and entered the penthouse suite.

Carina gasped.

She knew Michael and Max were very, very rich. From humble beginnings, she watched the family empire grow until they didn’t need to worry about paying bills, supporting Venezia’s shoe habit, or paying off a college education. The house was revamped, but she was still sheltered in Bergamo. Her surroundings never changed, and the inner person she was remained untouched by success or money.

But looking around the suite completely bedazzled her.

The open living room boasted a slate blue sofa, recliner, and gorgeous cherrywood furnishings. Rich canvas paintings of Italian scenes decorated the earthy, rich walls, and the floor-to-ceiling window showed off the city in all its glory. She remained speechless as she walked around and took in the fully stocked wet bar, the Jacuzzi tub, and the massive king-size bed with so many pillows she longed to stretch out and take a nap right now.

“I think I need to ask Michael for a raise,” she muttered.

Max laughed. “This is your business, cara. You’re family, so you’re a part of everything built, including the money.”

“I’m not comfortable taking advantage of something I never really worked for,” she said honestly. “I want to earn my own right to the money.”

His face softened, and for a brief moment, his baby blues filled with a fierce pride. “I know. You have character, which many women don’t exhibit these days.”

Carina snorted. “Plenty of women do, Max. You just find the wrong ones every time.”

“Can we give my lousy track record a break today?”

“Sure.” A flicker of guilt lit her eyes. “I’m sorry about Victoria.”

He shrugged. “You were right. As usual. At least she’s going after who she really wants.” He deliberately changed the subject and pointed toward the adjoining door. “I’ll show you your room.”

He walked over, punched in a code, and swung it open. She stepped into a matching suite with her own personal bed and bath. She let out a squeal of excitement, kicked off her shoes, and did something she’d been craving since they walked in the door.

She ran full speed and launched herself on the mattress. Sinking into sheer softness, she groaned and stretched out, luxuriating in the cozy feel of the pillows and blanket. “I’m in heaven,” she declared.

Max stopped at the side of the bed, grinning. “You never could resist a good jump. Remember when we were at your cousin Brian’s and I rigged up that awful contraption so you could pretend you were an Olympic gymnast?”

She laughed. “Oh, my God, that’s right! I tried to leap over but you made it too high and I broke my wrist.”

“I thought I’d be punished for months, but you came back from the doctor and no one ever mentioned it again.”

She propped up her elbow and rested her cheek in her palm. “Because I never told.”

“Huh?”

Carina smiled at the memory. “I knew you’d get in trouble. Hell, you and Michael were always put in charge of making sure I was safe. I told Mama I built the thing myself.”

He stared at her for a long time without blinking. “You lied for me?”

The soft question suddenly did bad things to her tummy. He looked at her as if seeing her in a new perspective, but she didn’t know if it was a good or bad thing. Maybe bringing up childhood wasn’t a great idea in her master seduction plan. She’d better change tactics quickly.

“I’m looking to upgrade that awful futon in Alexa’s apartment. Let me know what you think of this mattress.”

He flinched, then stepped back. “No, I’m not sure what you’re looking for.”

“Oh, come on, there’s plenty of room. I don’t have cooties. Just lay down and let me know if it’s better than your bed at home.”

His brow creased. “How would you know what type of bed I have?”

“I don’t, but you seem a bit pompous about all this luxury so I figured it must be huge. You don’t have one of those awful bachelor bedrooms with zebra patterns and hidden speaker music that impulsively plays Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get It On,” do you?”

He drew back in horror. “What do you know about stuff like that? There are so many things wrong with that scenario, I can’t even list them.”

“Good. Guy I was going out with had one of those setups. He shut the door behind him, pressed a button, and this awful song came on to get me in the mood.”

He took a step closer. “I hope you didn’t give him what he wanted. Not with that type of cheap trick.”

She grinned. “Nope, I wasn’t impressed.” She scooted over, moved one of the pillows, and motioned for him to join her. “Just a minute. Tell me what you think.”

“Carina—”

“Forget it. Wouldn’t want you to mess up your suit.”

Her remark hit home. His features tightened like she’d thrown out a dare. Never one to back down from a challenge, he toed off his shoes. She tamped down a giggle when he carefully positioned himself next to her with a huge space between them.

“So, what do you think?”

He sighed. “I can’t believe we’re rating beds. I feel like I’m in a Sleepy’s commercial.”

She bounced up and down. “Firm, yet plenty of give. The sheets definitely have a high thread count. And the pillows are perfect.”

“The pillows suck. Men hate fluffy pillows, they feel like they’re suffocating.”

“Really?”

“Yes. But the mattress is a good thickness. Firm but with enough give for—”

“Sex.”

Every muscle in his body stiffened. Carina held her breath as his head turned. Their gazes locked and she practically shook with the need to climb on top of him, press her mouth over his, and surrender. His pupils dilated and his jaw clenched. She waited. Moved an extra inch closer, making sure her shirt dipped down to expose a hint of cleavage. With deliberate casualness, she cocked her leg sideways and her skirt slid indecently high up her thigh. His delicious scent of aftershave, lemon, and clean soap swarmed her, more heady than any designer cologne on the market.

Tension cranked up a tight notch and buzzed through the air.

She waited.

“I was going to say sleep.”

He rolled to the side, got up, and stared at her with disapproval.

Frustration nipped and the pulsing folds between her legs pissed her off. She pursed her lips in a sulky pout. “Liar,” she whispered.

He moved.

With lightning speed, she found herself flat on her back. One hard knee pressed between her thighs and opened her up. He pinned her wrists over her head in a casual grip, and hovered. Carved lips paused an inch from hers, and those blue eyes shot sparks of fury and fire that set off a crazy, lustful reaction. Her body softened under his command in a need to be dominated and overtaken. All those hidden naughty fantasies sprang to life and out of the dark closet.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, cara.” His voice came out in a silky purr underlaid with pure steel. “Challenge a man in the big league, and you may regret it.”

Heady satisfaction rolled through her blood and swarmed her head. Dio, she was so hot her skin practically melted off her bones. This was what she craved—the domineering, sexual Max who could bring her to orgasm with one slide of his talented fingers. Carina raised her chin and met his gaze head-on. “Maybe I took a turn in the majors and liked it.”

“Now who’s the liar?” He lowered his head and nipped at her jaw. Her body shuddered and a moan built in the back of her throat. His tongue licked for a quick taste, and she arched up. “You think you can control the results, but teasing a man who’s hot for you isn’t wise. I thought you were smarter, little girl.”

“Did you ever think I want more than any man can handle?” The brave words lost a bit of impact as he tugged on her earlobe and a breathy gasp escaped. “All this time you’ve been wrong, Max. It’s not me who can’t handle them.” She smiled up at him with pure challenge. “They can’t handle me.”

He lifted his head. The air sparked and crackled between them. “Let’s find out, shall we?” His mouth slammed over hers. It was a punishment kiss; a learning lesson; a control of an art form he mastered.

Carina swore to prove him wrong.

His fingers tightened around her wrists as he plunged and conquered, so she begged for release. Carina begged, but it was for more, only more, as her body bucked to get closer and her tongue met and matched every dominant thrust. She surrendered every inch and loved every moment. Her nipples tightened to hard nubs and poked against her blouse. She grew wet and tried to open her legs farther for him, until he muttered a vile curse, shoved her skirt up, and pushed her wider.

He never released the bruising pressure of his mouth as his other hand slid up her leg and pressed his palm against her damp panties. Carina moaned and nipped his lower lip, urging him on with her body and—

Suddenly there was only empty air.

She fought for breath and sanity as he stood by the bed. His eyes widened with shock and something else, something dangerous and hungry that suddenly flickered to life. She sat up, pushed back her tangled hair, and made no move to neaten her clothes.

“What was that?” he growled in fury. “You were supposed to push me off, not get me off!”

She snarled like a pissed-off pit bull. “Who the hell are you to set up a challenge and not follow it through? I’m not afraid of your little demonstration, Max. I told you, I’m ready for more.”

“Dio, you’re crazy and begging for trouble. I’ve had enough. I’m putting you on the next flight out of here.”

Body still humming with arousal, she narrowed her gaze and spit out the words. “And what would you like me to tell Michael when I arrive back home?”

He pivoted and thrust his fingers in his hair. “I deserve for Michael to know. I’ve betrayed him.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, get over yourself. It’s none of my brother’s business who I sleep with. You’re acting like we’re in medieval days where you’ll duel for the loss of my honor. Poor women probably never experienced an orgasm with all those damn men trying to protect them.”

He groaned as if torn between laughter and horror. Carina enjoyed the sudden loss of his control as he struggled to learn how to deal with her. Finally. Max clung to the little girl he knew in the past, but it was time to see the reality and decide if he wanted it. Wanted her.

“You’re going home. I’ll deal with Michael.”

“No.” She got up from the bed, smoothed down her skirt, and straightened her blouse. “I’m not going home. I came to learn how to close an important business deal and I will. But I want you to think about something, Max. We can have one night together. Just one. Get it out of our system, have great sex, and move back to being friends.”

He shook his head and backed away as if afraid she’d launch herself at him. “You cannot do such a thing. I am not right for you.”

“I know.” She tamped down on the hurt and embraced the gamble of having him for one night. Slake the lust she’d lived with for years and move on. “I don’t have a crush on you anymore, but I have sexual needs I want to satisfy. I’ve been protected and sheltered my whole life, but I’m a grown woman now. It’s time you accept it.”

His obvious erection and conflicted expression gave her the confidence she needed. He wanted her. He was just too afraid to take his shot. Carina reached deep and gave him the truth. “I’m moving on, Max. I’m looking for a mature, sexual relationship that satisfies me. Nothing long term. I’ve just begun to spread my wings, and no male is going to clip them too soon. We’re attracted to each other, respect each other, and have a common bond. Why not have a one-night stand? In Vegas. Where no one will ever have to know.”

His jaw clenched. Heat burned in his eyes. Good. He was tempted—that’s all she needed for now. She closed the distance between them and he sucked in his breath. Full female power shimmered within her. She smiled slowly. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind leaving? I’m going to the pool. Catch you later.”

She didn’t wait for him to respond.

Carina pushed him and the shut the door behind her.

Max studied the man across the table. Eyes flat as a shark’s. Mouth set in a firm line. Not a quiver of tension in his wrists or fingers as he flipped up the card. He sat back in the cushioned chair, reached for his cigar, and grinned at Max.

“Any time now.”

Max ignored the taunt and concentrated on his hand. He threw the chip in. “Call.” He flipped over his pair of aces and waited. “Any time now.”

Sawyer Wells chuckled and copied the motion. Three deuces stared up at him.

“Fuck.”

“It’s been too long, Max. I’ve missed your humor. And of course, your lousy poker playing.”

Max buckled and lit his own cigar. The elaborate poker table fully stocked with chips was only part of the unique features of his longtime friend’s living quarters. The bar was just as impressive and one shelf alone held as many flavored vodkas, rums, and liquors as a guest could demand. The expensive artwork lining the walls would rival any famous collector’s. Decorated in vivid reds and earthy tones, Sawyer Wells always reminded him of a man who revered the life of luxury and focused on every element of pleasure without apology. “You’re just trying to get me drunk so you tempt me into a lousy deal with your hotel.”

The blond man shook his head and flicked the thick ash off the top of his cigar. His fair skin and golden eyes pegged him as a nonchalant surfer or bored prince. Until he turned sideways and revealed his scar. A wicked slash down his cheek, sometimes hidden by his long hair. Max knew both assumptions were dead wrong. The man made his own fortune, owned a sharp sense of humor, and a brain that challenged the most savvy executives. “Not my hotel. I’m just running the Venetian for a few more months. I’m building a brand-new chain to rival that asshole Trump.” Max laughed. “And as for your drinking ability, let’s just say it’s better than your poker game.”

“Bet that deck was rigged. I should’ve played on the main casino floor.”

“Somehow I don’t think you’ll be poverty-stricken from a few thousand.” His face reflected a memory Max never probed. They’d met on a yacht in Greece, where Max had his eye on a pretty princess trying to buck her overprotective daddy. Problem occurred when Sawyer swept in with the same intention. Max won the fight and the princess. He dumped her the next day, and both men ended up with a few bruises, a hangover, and a friendship that lasted.

When he discovered Sawyer knew Mama Conte, genuine like turned into deep affection, and they’d remained close throughout the years. But other than Sawyer’s success and lack of parents, Max knew nothing about where he’d come from. Fortunately, he didn’t give a crap. As he learned from experience, a past does not make a man’s future.

“Any other plans while you’re here?” Sawyer asked. “Other than my smoking you out of your money?”

“You wish. Dinner, some gambling, and letting off some steam with a companion.”

Sawyer arched a brow. “A particular woman?”

An image of Carina flashed before him. He deliberately took a puff of his cigar. “No. It’s better that way.”

Sawyer nodded. “Usually is. No one gets hurt and the ride is all pleasure. Still, something tells me you’re disturbed about something.”

Max snorted. “Don’t use your witch senses on me.”

“You must be afraid of them for a reason. Shall I set you up with someone?”

A grin tugged at his lips. “I can get my own women, Sawyer. I don’t need your sloppy seconds, but thanks for the offer.”

“You can only dream to have a shot at my rejects. Remember that time in Paris? I set you up with a model and you couldn’t close the deal.”

“I liked your date more.”

“So? I brought her home that night.”

“Yeah, but she slept with me the next weekend.”

“Bastard.”

Max laughed at the insult that held no heat. Sawyer had been his partner in many female escapades, all for the lure of the close and the prospect of pleasure. An odd emptiness pulsed in his gut. Ever since Carina bounded back into his life, he’d felt most of his relationships and actions were . . . flat. She made everything more vibrant and meaningful. What was wrong with him?

“Sawyer?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever want . . . more?”

His friend restacked the cards and neatened the pile of chips. “More what?”

Feeling ridiculous, he shrugged. “You know. More from women. More out of life.”

He paused in his shuffling and considered the question. “Not yet. I hope to one day, though. Why, Max? Do you?”

He pushed the emotion aside and deliberately laughed it off. “No, just wondering. I better go.”

“Yes, I will make arrangements to see you in a few hours when I can get the second half of your money.”

Max stubbed out his cigar. “What do you Americans say? Ah, yes, dare to dream.”

Sawyer’s laughter echoed through the room.

Three hours later, Max discreetly straightened his tie and asked the associate to check the air conditioner. Perspiration prickled on his skin under the designer suit and caused an uncomfortable itch. He tried to keep it together and get his head back in the game. Opening up a bakery in Vegas was a game changer, and he intended to succeed. After all, business was his heart and soul—the only item in his life that elicited a bone-deep satisfaction and pride. He’d craved that feeling his whole life as he scrambled to prove he was worthy. Just because his father didn’t think of him as enough didn’t mean he had to believe it. His mama showed him love and support every day. Damned if he’d disappoint her by becoming a screwed-up man in therapy moaning about a parental abandonment as if it was an excuse to fail.

The problem was his concentration. Every time he focused on business or distracted himself with a game in the casino, her ridiculous offer sang in his ears and mocked his sanity. One night. And no one would have to know.

But he’d know. Could he live with the guilt? Would that one night set off a series of horrible events to punish him for thinking with his penis instead of his brain?

The meeting began and rolled on. Max knew Sawyer and his team were interested, even with the famous chef at the Venetian who did all the wedding catering. The consideration of a bakery in this hotel spoke volumes, though Max realized the Venetian targeted the casual buyer rather than catering. He made a note to double-check with Michael, but figured the exposure from a pedestrian store may give them a bit of variety. It would be a great testing ground. First he’d need to calculate the statistics of crowds and buying habits, and crunch some numbers.

Carina kept her mouth shut, took notes, and listened intently. He began to wrap it up when Sawyer swung his attention across the table. “Signorina Conte, it’s a pleasure to meet Michael’s sister. I look forward to working with you and Max in the future.”

She smiled. Her face lit up with a natural depth of emotion that still fascinated him. As if she invited every person inside her soul for a visit, not caring if he was worthy. Max always felt special when she bestowed her attention, and fiercely protective of others looking to steal a piece of her. “Thank you, Mr. Wells. I think La Dolce Maggie would be a perfect fit for the Venetian, and look forward to moving to the next step.”

Max let out his breath and stood. “Gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure. We need to crunch some numbers and will get back to you on your offer.”

“It’s a fair one, Maximus.” Sawyer’s tone rolled soothingly as he shook his hand. “We cannot give up our specialized catering but think you’ll do well profit-wise with a store in the lobby.”

Max nodded and kept a worried expression. “I appreciate it, but I’m not sure it’s enough money for the gamble.” Taking the first offer on the table was ridiculous, and both men knew it. Both also knew the game very well. Max grabbed the papers, snapped up his briefcase, and—

“Actually, Max, I think the offer was quite generous.” Carina stepped up to them with a thoughtful look. Max froze, mentally reaching out to her and praying she didn’t blow it. Knowing her incredible talent for figures, she’d already done the stats. Max forced a laugh and gripped her arm.

“But of course it is. Sawyer is always generous. We better go in order to make our scheduled conference call.”

Sawyer stepped neatly in front of Max and smiled warmly at Carina. A shark disguised as Nemo, he went in for the kill. “What a talent you have for numbers, signorina! I’m so glad you agree it is quite fair. For instance, you never received such an offer for your opening in Tribeca, right? I was told you took a lower opening bid in order to gain visibility for your chain. And this is what Vegas will do for you!”

Max opened his mouth but it was too late.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you knew that,” she said with a pleasant chuckle. “The profit margin we calculated as minimum would be met with a little extra. I think Michael will be quite pleased with your offer, as is Max.”

Sawyer grinned and met Max’s gaze.

Merda.

His associate in training had just rolled over on her belly and allowed the shark a fatal bite. There would be no more negotiating at this table, and Sawyer’s obvious glee confirmed it. Carina beamed with success as if she had personally closed a great deal instead of killing it.

Max clamped down on his temper. “We shall see, shan’t we, Sawyer?”

“Definitely.”

His fingers tightened on her arm in warning. “Let’s go.” He gave a final nod and guided her out the conference room, down the hallway, and into the elevator. She opened her mouth to say something, but his look must have been enough. Confusion flickered across her face, but she kept silent as they reached their room, keyed in the code, and stepped over the threshold.

He let his briefcase drop, ripped off his jacket and tie, and exploded.

“What have you done? You have an MBA, for Christ’s sake—and you break the first rule of business in negotiations? You never, ever tell them it’s a good offer in an initial consultation. You just gave Sawyer your approval, and that means he’ll never raise his offer. We now have no wiggle room and have to either accept or refuse.” He cursed viciously and paced. “Michael will kill me. I don’t think there’s a way out of this mess now.”

The blood drained from her face. Her harsh whisper reached his ears. “Dio, mi dispiace. I am so sorry. I didn’t think, I thought the deal was solid and I got excited and I spoke too soon. It is my fault, Max. I will take the consequences.”

He groaned. “There are no consequences for you, Carina, only me. I never should have brought you in. I should have confirmed you should not speak at all and to only observe. I forgot that school training is completely different than in real life.”

She marched up and blocked his next step. “There’s no need to protect me on this. What I did was inexcusable, I got carried away. I will call Michael and let him know what happened.”

Max reached for a deep breath and tried to calm himself. Yelling at her wasn’t an option. He could tell Michael what happened, but he was responsible for this deal—not Carina. He gentled his voice. “I will think of something. There is no need to involve your brother at this point. Why don’t you go back to the pool and relax while I sort this out? Enjoy the hotel while we are here.”

He expected a grateful smile. Instead, he got shoved back by a powerful push and stumbled once before he caught himself. Those gypsy eyes filled with fury and her body bristled with energy, reminding him of the night he kissed her. “How dare you patronize me, Maximus Gray!” She snarled and curled her fists. “Stop protecting me and treating me like a child about to burst into tears if she gets in trouble! I screwed up and there is no excuse. It is not your fault, and I’m sick to death of you taking the blame.”

“Are you kidding me?” He shook his head in total exasperation. “I tell you to go to the damn pool and you’re yelling at me? I don’t need this right now. I’m not up to playing female games of figuring out what you want. You want to be treated like a regular employee? Fine, consider yourself officially out of this deal. You’ll go home tomorrow and oversee the home office while I try to dig myself out of this mess here. Better?”

“Much.” The expression drained out of her face, and she backed up, wrapping her arms around her middle. Suddenly, she looked so alone. Emotion clogged his throat and every cell in his body screamed to take her in his arms. “I’m sorry, Max.” She let out a humorless laugh. “From the moment I began working here you’ve been scrambling around trying to put out my fires. I need some time to think if this is the best place for me.”

“Carina . . .”

She shook her head hard and scrambled toward the door. “No, don’t. I need to be alone for a while. I’ll see you later.”

Before he could say another word, she fled.

Max dropped his face into his hands and prayed for strength. Strength not to strangle her. Strength not to touch her. Strength to send her away so he didn’t have to deal with this mass of crazy emotions suddenly putting him in a spin.

One night.

He forced the tantalizing image from his head. Waited a beat. Then went after her.

Carina sat at the bar in the casino and fiddled with the edge of the napkin placed under her apple martini. The lovely green color soothed her, along with the tart slide of liquor. How decadent to drink in the afternoon in Vegas, where night blended into day and no one cared. Maybe she’d take a gondola ride later and send a photo to her mother and sisters. They’d get a kick out of their baby sister in such a glamorous setting.

She choked back the tiny sob and gritted her teeth. God, she hated crying. It gave her bad memories of her rage of uncontrollable emotions years ago. While Venezia received vivacious beauty and Julietta a cool intellect, she got stuck with a junkyard of emotions. Always too giving, too trusting . . . too stupid. Always floating on the edges of life and watching others take chances. She’d thought the business world would knock her into shape and give her the direction she so badly craved. A place to finally belong and feel more comfortable in her own skin. Instead, it only stretched her more tightly to the point of pain.

Whine, whine, whine.

She smiled to herself as her inner goddess took control and slapped her. She’d screwed up. Bad. Now she had to fix it, instead of letting Max step in as usual and protect her. Defeat tasted bitter, but she intended to make it go down easier with her martini. Then slip on her big-girl panties and meet with Sawyer Wells. Alone.

“Come here often?”

She held back a sigh. He settled on the stool beside her, ordered a beer, and waited her out. “Max, when are you going to learn you don’t have to protect me? Can’t I even sit here and get sloshed? I’m alone. No big bad men. Middle of the afternoon. Go do something important.”

“I am. Trying to drag you from the dismal depths of depression is important.” His innocent grin strangled a half laugh from her. Just being in his orbit toasted her brain, and her resolve. She lifted her drink and took another sip. “We all make mistakes in the beginning. I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“That was the only good thing you did.”

“Let’s call it a learning curve and move on, shall we?”

“What about the deal?”

“I’ll either take it or fix it. Maybe let Sawyer stew for a while. I’m not worried.”

His concerned gaze shredded her heart. She felt as if she’d let him down. An MBA and she made the most basic mistake a beginner can. Show your hand too early.

Yeah, welcome to Vegas.

His hand slid across the bar and clasped her fingers. His strong, warm hand settled her nerves, and her usual defenses slid down. “I’m not sure this is right for me, Max.”

“You’re still new, cara.”

“It’s more than that. It took me a long time to learn how to balance my emotions with the need to be controlled in business. I actually enjoyed the challenge, but I’m afraid I’ll never be strong enough to succeed. Instead of kicking someone’s ass when they call in sick, I want to bring them chicken soup.”

He reached up and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. The gentle gesture gave her enough courage to look him in the eye. Carved lips lifted in a half smile. “No one wants you to change who you are. In these few months, you’ve captured everyone’s heart and loyalty. And it’s not because you’re a pushover. It’s because you’re special, and everyone knows it.”

“You’re just trying to make me feel better.”

“No. I expected to babysit a girl and keep her out of trouble. Instead, I got a woman who knows exactly what to do and is just trying to find her way. You have a strength when it comes to relationships. You know what’s needed and aren’t afraid to give it.” He studied their interlocked hands. “And you were right about Robin.”

The compliment warmed her blood. “I’m surprised you agree.”

“Sometimes I take business too far and forget I’m dealing with people. People who make mistakes.”

“Yeah, not like my problem.”

“That’s easy to fix. Best thing to do is take a breath and step away from the situation. You have a tendency to give, so if you’re getting a request that tugs on your emotions, tell them you’ll call them back. Stall them on a decision. That way you can assess the situation more clearly and not trap yourself in a corner. Make sense?”

Carina nodded slowly. “Yes, it does.”

“I fucked up so bad when I first started working for Michael. I fed the wrong report to an executive on a deal we were about to close. Saved the guy half a million dollars. He signed it before I caught the mistake.”

“What did Michael do?”

His eyes twinkled. “Gave me hell. Made me feel like shit. Then moved on and he never mentioned it again or ever held it over my head. I never gave away another dollar for free.”

Her spirit lightened. The casino lit up around them with energy, but for that moment, she felt completely alone with a man who seemed to know exactly what to say to soothe her heart. “I know one thing that would make me feel better. Less of a failure.”

“Dare I ask?”

“Celine Dion is doing a show tonight.”

He shuddered. “Anything else. My car, my money, my dog. Don’t make me listen to ‘My Heart Will Go On.’ ”

“Hmm, how do you know the title of the song, Max?”

He ignored her and took a long pull of his beer. His hand slid from hers and she tried not to mourn the loss. “I watched that movie Titanic for the action only.”

Carina laughed. “You are so busted. We’re going. Seven o’clock show.”

“How do you know I can get tickets? It’s probably sold out.”

She snorted. “Go do what you do best. Charm some helpless female. Offer her your body. We’ll be all set.”

“Fine. As long as we agree to close this topic of conversation. You screwed up. We’ll fix it and move on. Deal?”

She smiled. “Deal.”

“Good. I’ve got some meetings, so take the rest of the day off. I’ll take you to dinner before the show and we’ll test out the Venetian’s restaurant skills.”

“Perfect.”

He threw a few bills on the bar and stood up. “Try not to get into any trouble.”

“Good girls don’t get into trouble, do they?”

He shot her a warning look and left. She nursed the rest of her martini and sifted through her options. One thing was clear. She needed to fix things on her own—no matter the cost. Unfortunately, there was one way left.

Remove herself from the deal.

She traced the rim of her glass and held back a sigh. Even with her skills, her mistakes far outweighed her benefit. Maybe it was time to dig a bit deeper and find out what she really wanted instead of trying to be a carbon copy of everyone else. Her soul itched for freedom and creativity. What if La Dolce Maggie couldn’t offer what she really needed?

The thoughts danced in her head but she focused on the one thing she could control.

Fix the mess. She drained her drink, grabbed her purse, and headed back to the room to contact Sawyer Wells.