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.