“Good. Let’s talk business. I have a proposition for you. A merger of sorts.”
She crossed her arms in front of her chest and didn’t respond. He seemed intrigued with her control and pa-tience. Julietta wondered what type of women he was used to dealing with in his world. “I’m about to unveil a chain of my own signature luxury hotels. For the past few years, I’ve bought property in prime locations in main cities throughout europe and the United States. The plan is ambitious and begins with hotels opening up in Milan, rome, Venice, and Florence. I’ll move into england with three locations including London. Then the United States, where I’ll build in New york, LA, and Chicago.”
He waited for a comment. She remained silent.
“The hotel chain will be called Purity. I’ve been working on the concept for years—a dream, so to speak—and have a team ready to move fast. I’ve decided to begin in Italy for a variety of reasons. The statistics are quite high for travelers in those areas and the need for something extra, especially for many Americans. I’ll be combining a line of exclusive spas and catering. I prefer to work with specific vendors who can sign an exclusive contract to my line. My intention is for the people I do business with to work for some of the most sought-after companies in the world.
Travelers will beg to experience the uniqueness of Purity’s assets. I’ll launch this in three main components: one, the linens will be handmade and exclusive to Purity. Luxurious robes, slippers, towels, beds, and sheets. Similar to Frette, but we’ve been able to create a new line that Armani can’t boast of. There won’t be one thing a customer touches that he doesn’t crave to curl into. Component two is the spa and restaurants. I’ve already signed contracts to incorporate the finest dining and best relaxation methods in the world.
The two chefs I stole turned down television deals to come with me. The third component is delicacies: shops with fine gold, customized jewelry, designer fashion, and of course, desserts.”
Julietta leaned slightly forward. Her heart hammered as she hung on his next words.
“I want to sign a chain of bakeries to provide exclusive catering at all Purity hotels. This will encompass catering events of all kinds, including weddings. I need an exclusive, high-quality bakery that can provide product to all restaurants, room service, and a pedestrian shop for impulse buys.”
Her mind sifted through the possibilities. The plan was risky. Almost crazy in the current economy. yet, the sim-plicity of exclusiveness and the locations screamed genius.
If the components worked together, Sawyer could launch one of the most successful brand names in the world. She pursed her lips in thought. “Do the chefs you contracted understand the terms? Most want total control of all food, including the desserts.”
“They all know the rules. I don’t want some great cooks who can bake good desserts, or one pastry chef. I need a well-oiled chain that can give anything my clients want in a variety of outlets. And I want the best. La Dolce Famiglia is the best.”
Pleasure cut deep, but she ignored it. The man was a genius, but she’d learned early there were always hidden clauses in the deal of a lifetime. “I’m impressed. of course I’ll need to see your development plans, timetables, and locations to get a better feel if this would be right for us.”
“of course.”
“estimated profit margins are key.”
“yes.”
“There’s just one word that’s bothering me in your proposal.”
“What’s that?”
“exclusive.”
His gaze dropped to her mouth. The hungry predator look surprised her. She wasn’t a woman who normally in-spired lust. Challenge, yes. But in a business meeting, she was always able to detach the feminine part of her, so attraction never became a problem. For the first time, a matching need flared deep in her belly in an attempt to claw free.
What would it be like to be on the receiving end of all that pent-up male attention? He stroked his chin in contempla-tion while he studied her. Those tapered fingers skimmed lightly over a clean-shaven jaw and right under his plump lower lip. Was his skin as golden toasty brown everywhere under that black Gucci suit? Would his fingers play a woman’s body and coax a delicious river of need from between her thighs?
She pushed down a sigh. Just a fantasy. The moment he kissed her and found she wasn’t the normal weak-kneed female he preferred, he’d lose interest. They all did. And Julietta didn’t blame them. Dio, what was she doing thinking about him naked anyway? Had she gone pazzo?
“you have a problem with being exclusive?” With a lean, masculine grace he pushed back in his chair and hooked his ankle over his knee. The casual gesture contradicted the steely question wrapped in fuzzy cotton. Her mouth dried up. Why did it suddenly seem they were talk-ing about a whole different meaning of the word?
Julietta gave a delicate shrug. “Sometimes. Multiple partners even out the risk.”
A wolfish grin spread over his mouth. “exactly. The risk of failure. Making a commitment to the right partner pushes the percentage of success to a higher level.”
“or the attachment can equal bankruptcy.” The blood pounded and rushed through her veins as they thrust and parried in round two of their mental game. “It’s happened too many times.”
Sawyer dropped his voice. Sticky honey and hot oil mixed and slid together in a delight to her ears and the pulsing center between her legs. “you chose wrong before and got screwed. But that won’t happen with me.”
Her skin prickled and her breasts ached behind her proper white bra. Julietta had the sudden urge to rip off her clothes and offer herself to him on his desk. Spread her thighs and bend to his will. Horror mingled with surprise at the primitive reaction he coaxed. Thank God she’d learned early to control her breath to calm her nerves in public situations. She forced a small smile. “Confident, are we? Good, I look for that in a partner. I assume you have a formal proposal I can go over?”
He pushed the black leather binder across the desk. She scooped it up, gave it a cursory glance, and tucked it away in her briefcase. “I’ll get back to you this week.”
“No. Tomorrow.”
Julietta frowned. “Impossible. I need lawyers to look it over. I have to bring it to the board members. Talk with Michael.”
He cut his hand through the air. “Michael runs La Dolce Maggie, and I intend to give him the same deal with my local operations in New york. If this is going to work, I need to know you’re my point person for everything. you make the decisions. Democracy is good, but sometimes a monarchy gets better results.” Something flashed in his eyes—deep and sexual and wicked. “I’ll have to prove that to you soon.”
Julietta refused to clear her throat or act timid. “you run the risk of me saying no to the whole thing.”
“yes. But I still need an answer tomorrow. I’ll take you to dinner.”
She shook her head. “No need, Mr. Wells, I—”
“Sawyer.”
Her belly dropped at his commanding tone. “Sawyer.
I’ll need till five p.m.”
“Perfect. Whatever your decision is, we’ll celebrate over wine and pasta. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
The situation tilted, and she grabbed for footing. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“I do. Whether or not we do business, I’ve spent time with most of your family and would like to share one meal with you. Talk about Max. your sister. Is that too much to ask?”
She felt like an idiot. How did she fight such a rea-sonable request without looking like a total bitch? But something told her she didn’t want to be alone with him, especially in her apartment. Inviting him in seemed deadly.
Her tongue stumbled over the words. “Fine. you can pick me up at the office; I’ll be working.”