he needed to jump from a roof to get into them. Opting to go shirtless, Robbie’s only other adornment would be a hand painted mask.
Not wil ing to start an argument she knew she couldn’t win, Yvonne toted her belongings outside. She handed the driver her bag and climbed into the back seat of the hired Mercedes, while Robbie juggled the disgusting excess he called ‘necessities’.
He climbed in beside her and gave the driver their flight information.
They left slightly before noon to beat the midday rush and arrived at Rome’s Fiumicino Airport with time to spare before their flight. And before Yvonne could finish her complimentary champagne, they were landing in Venice.
Shut led into a private water taxi, they set off for the city center and Matteo Matteo’s palazzo, Villa Reale, hunkered on Venice’s Grand Canal. Due to the holiday, the city teemed with people many of them costumed or wearing painted masks.
During the twenty minute ride, they passed other boats and Venice’s famous gondoliers along the narrow canals flanked by centuries old buildings that seemed to stand the test of time and a wet geography.
“It’s beautiful,” Yvonne whispered, awe struck by the ingenuity of the Venetians and the beauty of the palazzos, which emerged directly from the lagoon.
“Wait until you see Matteo’s mansion. Comprised of four stories, Villa Reale takes up an entire street block.” Upon their arrival, two servants greeted them at the docks. One stayed behind to handle their luggage while the other ushered them to their suite of rooms. Given two hours to rest before dinner, Yvonne decided to take a tour of their host’s property.
Considering the price tag of Robbie’s endorsement deal, Yvonne expected Matteo to have more money than King Midas. And after taking a brief tour of the estate, his wealth was confirmed. One of three properties Matteo personal y owned Villa Reale was by far the largest at sixteen thousand square feet.
After completing her tour, Yvonne bathed and then dressed in an emerald green cocktail dress handpicked by Robbie, of course. As they descended the stairs to the formal dining room, they rehearsed al the pertinent information regarding their
‘relationship’.
“Now don’t be nervous,” Robbie assured her before they entered the dining room. “I’l be right by your side the entire time.”
*****
“I’m going to steal you from Robbie?”
Nico Matteo chuckled as his green eyes dipped to the décolletage of Yvonne’s cocktail dress.
Yvonne clutched the dinner napkin folded in her lap. For the better part of the evening, she’d suffered their host’s advances.
Robbie wasn’t much help seated several chairs down the table and ensconced between an Italian duke and a Bavarian heiress.
Remembering Robbie’s unsigned endorsement contract, Yvonne plastered on a smile and bore the other man’s company.
“What would you do with me once you had me?”
Matteo’s expression grew serious and Yvonne tensed. “I would put you to work within my organization as the Vice President of International Marketing. I’d use your aggressive tactics to my advantage.” Matteo chuckled at Yvonne’s surprised expression. She definitely wasn’t expecting a job offer, more like a tumble under the sheets.
“So what do you say? Would you like to come and work for me, overseeing my North American division?” Yvonne found herself at a loss for words. What could she say to an offer that was equivalent to her dream job? Unfortunately, she couldn’t accept. Her commitment to Robbie was her first and only priority.
“I’ve shocked you, no?” Matteo reached out his hand and placed it over hers. “Normal y, I do not discuss business during dinner, it ruins the digestion. But since the weekend wil be a whirlwind of activity and with al my guests arriving, we won’t be afforded the same opportunity to speak on a one-on-one basis.”
“I’m very flattered, but. .” Yvonne was unable to
Not wil ing to start an argument she knew she couldn’t win, Yvonne toted her belongings outside. She handed the driver her bag and climbed into the back seat of the hired Mercedes, while Robbie juggled the disgusting excess he called ‘necessities’.
He climbed in beside her and gave the driver their flight information.
They left slightly before noon to beat the midday rush and arrived at Rome’s Fiumicino Airport with time to spare before their flight. And before Yvonne could finish her complimentary champagne, they were landing in Venice.
Shut led into a private water taxi, they set off for the city center and Matteo Matteo’s palazzo, Villa Reale, hunkered on Venice’s Grand Canal. Due to the holiday, the city teemed with people many of them costumed or wearing painted masks.
During the twenty minute ride, they passed other boats and Venice’s famous gondoliers along the narrow canals flanked by centuries old buildings that seemed to stand the test of time and a wet geography.
“It’s beautiful,” Yvonne whispered, awe struck by the ingenuity of the Venetians and the beauty of the palazzos, which emerged directly from the lagoon.
“Wait until you see Matteo’s mansion. Comprised of four stories, Villa Reale takes up an entire street block.” Upon their arrival, two servants greeted them at the docks. One stayed behind to handle their luggage while the other ushered them to their suite of rooms. Given two hours to rest before dinner, Yvonne decided to take a tour of their host’s property.
Considering the price tag of Robbie’s endorsement deal, Yvonne expected Matteo to have more money than King Midas. And after taking a brief tour of the estate, his wealth was confirmed. One of three properties Matteo personal y owned Villa Reale was by far the largest at sixteen thousand square feet.
After completing her tour, Yvonne bathed and then dressed in an emerald green cocktail dress handpicked by Robbie, of course. As they descended the stairs to the formal dining room, they rehearsed al the pertinent information regarding their
‘relationship’.
“Now don’t be nervous,” Robbie assured her before they entered the dining room. “I’l be right by your side the entire time.”
*****
“I’m going to steal you from Robbie?”
Nico Matteo chuckled as his green eyes dipped to the décolletage of Yvonne’s cocktail dress.
Yvonne clutched the dinner napkin folded in her lap. For the better part of the evening, she’d suffered their host’s advances.
Robbie wasn’t much help seated several chairs down the table and ensconced between an Italian duke and a Bavarian heiress.
Remembering Robbie’s unsigned endorsement contract, Yvonne plastered on a smile and bore the other man’s company.
“What would you do with me once you had me?”
Matteo’s expression grew serious and Yvonne tensed. “I would put you to work within my organization as the Vice President of International Marketing. I’d use your aggressive tactics to my advantage.” Matteo chuckled at Yvonne’s surprised expression. She definitely wasn’t expecting a job offer, more like a tumble under the sheets.
“So what do you say? Would you like to come and work for me, overseeing my North American division?” Yvonne found herself at a loss for words. What could she say to an offer that was equivalent to her dream job? Unfortunately, she couldn’t accept. Her commitment to Robbie was her first and only priority.
“I’ve shocked you, no?” Matteo reached out his hand and placed it over hers. “Normal y, I do not discuss business during dinner, it ruins the digestion. But since the weekend wil be a whirlwind of activity and with al my guests arriving, we won’t be afforded the same opportunity to speak on a one-on-one basis.”
“I’m very flattered, but. .” Yvonne was unable to
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