Page 64 of Modern Romance October 2025 5-8

Gio wanted, badly, to know which. Because while he knew she was here for some underhand reason,thatreaction was real. It was a clue to the woman behind the masquerade.

The first time he’d seen it had been when she’d chuckled over his comment she should choose more than one gelato flavour, as if such indulgence were new to her.

The second had been later as they’d strolled past the Colosseum. Two men, dressed as ancient Roman soldiers, were accepting money to have their photos taken with tourists. The pair had impressive helmets and breastplates and wore short red tunics. As they’d smiled at a camera a small boy had approached from the side and lifted one’s skirt to see what he wore beneath.

The look on the pretend soldier’s face, and the child’s glee, had been priceless. Even better had been the full-throated chortle from Gio’s companion. It had been so alluring, so sexy, he’d wanted to scoop her close and taste her laughter on his tongue.

The idea stunned him. She was an enemy. Her father had destroyed Gio’s family. He’d harboured a vendetta against Gio’s father for years because he’d had the temerity to win the woman Alfredo Barbieri wanted for himself, never mind that the woman had never wanted Barbieri.

Now the villain dared to send his daughter to Rome to spy on Gio! There could be no other explanation for her staying in his new flagship hotel under an assumed name. Whether to spy on him or the workings of the hotel or try accessing his corporate nerve centre didn’t matter. It was a declaration of war.

Gio had washed his hands of Barbieri, knowing his best revenge on the man he hated with every atom of his being was to rise above him. His own father hadn’t been able to move on from their tragedy and that had destroyed both him and his relationship with his son. Much as Gio had loved him, he was stronger than that. His father had inadvertently taught him the benefits, no, thenecessityof emotional distance, and it was a lesson he’d taken to heart.

He forced his thoughts to the present, watching the man try to pull himself into the raft, almost capsizing it.

‘He’d find it easier to swim ashore and get in there.’

‘Look at the guide’s gestures,’ Stella answered. ‘That’s what she’s telling him, but he doesn’t listen.’ She sighed. ‘Some people don’t like advice, even from someone who knows more about what they’re doing.’

Gio sent her a curious glance, hearing a grim note that said she wasn’t just thinking of the tourist.

‘It sounds like you’ve some experience of that.’

‘Don’t we all?’

‘But your tone says it’s a particular problem for you.’

Her mouth crimped at the corners. After a moment she exhaled, shoulders dropping. ‘Nothing I can’t handle.’ She flicked him a glance before turning back to the river. ‘Sometimes I get tired of needing to prove myself again and again. At work I put forward a suggestion then have to try harder than anyone else to get it considered. Even when I’m the one with expertise on the project.’

‘Do you have any idea why?’ He knew women were sometimes undervalued in the workplace.

‘Oh, I know why. I’m younger and I don’t fit the mould.’

‘And the mould would be male? What sort of work is it?’

‘If you don’t mind, Gio, I’d rather not discuss it. I’d rather enjoy the day.’

Of course she’d rather not talk about it with him. But her discontent seemed real and that intrigued him.

Was she targeting him to improve her position in the family company? In the brief time he’d had available he’d checked that she did work for Barbieri. Was spying on her company’s biggest rival her idea, to make the old man sit up and notice her? Or had the plan been devised by Barbieri himself?

She gave the impression of being open and honest, except for the yawning no-go areas in her life she shied from discussing. Did she really hope to lure him into thinking she was an innocent? Circumstances pointed that way, yet Gio didn’t want to believe it.

That’s your ego. You want her smiles to be real. Just for you, nothing to do with business or an ancient vendetta.

That gurgling laugh simultaneously lightened his soul and made his groin tighten in need.

Because what he felt when he was with Stella was pure, blazing attraction. She drew him at a deep, almost unconscious level.

Maybe that’s why her father sent her. Maybe he guessed the effect she’d have on you. He’s a wily old devil.

Familiar tension rose at the thought of Alfredo Barbieri but he pushed it away.

Gio leaned on the bridge’s wide railing, standing closer to Stella than before. Not crowding, but near enough to inhale her light scent. She smelled of a spring garden.

Shouldn’t a spy smell overtly seductive?

Unless her aim wasn’t to seduce information out of him. Disappointment stabbed his gut.