Her Brooding Italian Boss Read Online Free PDF

too. Made me pay him a pretty penny to get it back.” He motioned to the stairs. “Let me show you to your room.”
    Taken aback by the abrupt change of mood, she almost didn’t follow him. Her skin was prickly and hot from his nearness, her breathing shallow. Still, she smiled and started up the steps, reminding herself that he was off-limits and she should be paying attention to the layout of the house rather than the nearness of her boss.
    At the top of the staircase, Antonio directed her down a short hall. A glance to the left and right showed her the upstairs had been designed in such a way that private hallways led to individual rooms. And each wall had a painting. Some stark and stunning. Some warm and rich with color.
    They finally stopped at a closed door. Antonio opened it and directed her inside. She gasped as she entered. Thick white carpets protected golden hardwood floors. A white headboard matched the white furniture, which was all brightened by an aqua comforter and bed skirt and sheer aqua curtains that billowed in the breeze of the open window.
    “It’s beautiful.” She’d tried not to sound so pedestrian and poor, but the simple color scheme in the huge room with such beautiful furniture took her breath away.
    “Thank you. I did this room myself.”
    “You did?” She turned with a happy smile on her face, but her smile died when she saw him looking around oddly. “What?”
    He shook his head. “It’s nothing. Foolish.”
    “Come on.” She used the cajoling voice she’d use with her older brother when he had a secret. If they were going to be working together—and she hoped his recent change in mood was an indicator that they were—she needed to get him to trust her. “We’re friends. You can tell me.”
    He sucked in a breath, walked a bit farther into the room. “Most men let their wives decorate, but mine was away—” He caught her gaze. “Traveling. She also showed no interest in the samples the designer sent to her, and one day I just decided to look at the whole house as a canvas and—” he shrugged “—here we are.”
    “Well, if the rest of the rooms are as beautiful as this one, I can’t wait to see everything.”
    He smiled slightly. “I’ll give you a tour tonight.”
    She said, “Great,” but her heart sank. Talking about his wife had made him sad. He might give her the tour, but it would be grudgingly. The disparity of their stations in life and the reality of her situation poured through her. She might be trying to get him to trust her, but if she were simply a new assistant not a friend of friends, he wouldn’t give her the tour of his house. She might not even get such a grand bedroom. He probably wouldn’t have told her the tidbit about decorating it himself. And he wouldn’t be sad.
    Maybe it was time to put herself in her place with him—
for
him.
    “You don’t have to.” She laughed lightly, trying to sound like an employee, not a friend. “This is your home. There might be areas you wish to keep private.”
    He faced her, his expression filled with sadness. “People in the public eye quickly realize there is no such thing as privacy. If you sense hesitancy about my showing you the house, it’s because the house reminds me of better times.”
    She struggled to hold back a wince at her stupidity. Of course, memories of his dead wife affected him more than the oddness of having a friend working for him. “I’m sorry.”
    “I’m sorry too.” He glanced around at her room again. “I’d love to have my inspiration back. I’d love to paint again.” He drew in a breath, as if erasing whatever memories had come to mind and faced her. “I need to go to my father’s for an hour or so. But it’s already late. Especially considering we’re five hours ahead of New York here. You may just want to turn in for the night.”
    “Are you kidding? I had a seven-hour nap! Plus, I’m still on New York time.”
    “Maybe you’d like to read by the pool?