An Heir For Her Enemy (Bossy Bachelors #3)

7. Delaney

CHAPTER 7

DELANEY

D elaney stared at the airplane in front of her. She’d expected to fly commercial to Italy, perhaps in business class, but still commercial. Yet the address Logan’s secretary had sent her led to a private airport outside the city, where a small private plane waited to whisk her off to Italy.

Delaney had flown a few times before, mostly to visit family, but she wasn’t a frequent flyer by any means. The longest she’d ever been on a plane before was a few hours. And that had been on a much bigger plane.

“You made it.”

Delaney turned to see Logan striding across the tarmac towards her. He was dressed in slacks and a button-up and looked more casual than he had in the suit she’d seen him in before. His dark hair was still neat, and his gray eyes were still intense. He was every bit the man who’d held Delaney in his arms, kissed her like she was the most important person in the world, and told her she was beautiful. Yet at the same time, he wasn’t.

“So did you.” Delaney shouldered her travel bag. “Watch out. It’s a small plane and I doubt you’ll be able to run off when you get bored of me.”

“Let’s try to keep things professional, shall we?” At Logan’s words, Delaney instantly regretted her barb — then wished she didn’t. Who was Logan to talk about professionalism?

“Understood.” Delaney turned back to the plane and crossed her arms. “Are we getting on?”

“When you’re ready. Can I take your bag for you?”

“I can handle it.” Delaney gripped the strap of her bag and strode towards the plane, not looking back to see if Logan was following her. She climbed a small flight of stairs, her free hand on the railing, and stepped into the plane. It was surprisingly roomy inside. The seats were large and looked comfortable, more so than the couch in Delaney’s studio, a fact she found annoying. Why should his plane be better than her house? Delaney took a calming breath. As much as she hated to agree with Logan, it was best to be professional.

She chose a forward-facing seat, set her bag in the overhead compartment, and settled in. Logan sat across from her.

“Tell me,” Delaney said. “What is the painting you want me to authenticate?”

“It’s called The Cherished Infant ,” Logan told her. “Apparently, it could be a lost Botticelli.”

“A Botticelli?” Delaney raised her eyebrows. “That would be something.”

“It would. It should be just the piece I need to give my collection a little prestige.” Logan sat back in his chair, looking pleased. “Finding a lost piece by a famous painter would give me more than a little clout in the art world, don’t you think?”

“Let me get this straight.” Delaney leaned forward. “You want to buy this painting so that you can hide it away and show it only to your rich friends? If it really is a Botticelli, that means something — and not just to you! I can’t imagine the history of this piece or the beauty of it. The world deserves to see it, not only the people who you want to impress.”

“People hide paintings away all the time. Pieces like this would hardly be noteworthy if everyone had them, would they? It’s simple supply and demand.” Logan sounded annoyed, which piqued Delaney’s own annoyance. She’d known he wanted to collect art to build his reputation, but this was going too far. So much for keeping things professional. Within moments of sitting down, they were already fighting.

Delaney shook her head. “I just don’t understand how someone who has so much can constantly strive for more. If you only care about the next billion, or about fitting in with a bunch of people who, quite frankly, are often shallow, you’ll never be happy.”

“Let me get this straight.” Logan folded his hands. “You’re accusing me of chasing money and hiding art when you’re doing the exact same thing. You make your living by enabling people like me to acquire art like this. You should look for a different line of work if you’re going to look down on me for using art the same way you do.”

“Are you calling me a hypocrite?” Delaney’s temper flared. “We are not the same.”

“We’re a lot more similar than you want to believe.” Logan shrugged. “You took this job, after all, even though I know you don’t like me, even though you don’t approve of what I’ll do with the art. You must need the money for something. How is that any different from what I do?”

Delaney opened her mouth, then closed it. She was furious, but it clearly wasn’t going to do anyone any good for her to fight with Logan. He was only going to throw whatever she said back in her face.

“Maybe we are the same. But at least I know when to stop.” She reached into her purse, pulled out her phone and earbuds, and cued up her favorite playlist. Then she put the earbuds into her ears and turned up the volume to drown out anything else Logan might say. She fixed her gaze firmly on the tarmac outside the window and tried to pretend that he wasn’t there.

As Delaney listened, the plane began to roll. She watched out the window as they picked up speed and, with a gentle tilt, lifted into the air. Below her, the ground fell away until the streetlights and cars below blurred together. In the distance, she caught sight of the glowing New York skyline. It could have been a postcard. All the noise and dirt disappeared into nothing this far off the ground.

Delaney glanced at Logan to see if he was as impressed by the view as she was, but he was absorbed in something on the screen of his tablet. It figured. He’d probably made this exact ascent a hundred times and no longer found it interesting or special.

Delaney looked back out the window as the darkness of the ocean opened up below them. The land faded into the distance and she grinned — she was officially leaving North America for the first time in her life. She’d imagined coming on a different sort of trip with a less frustrating man, but she’d take what she could get. One of her dreams was already coming true.

As they flew on, her head resting against the window frame and an upbeat song playing over her earbuds, Delaney felt her anger slowly drift away. Logan was a jerk and always would be, but she wouldn’t have to spend much time with him. She’d assess the painting and she’d spend a little time in Rome. Perhaps she’d try some real Italian food.

She definitely wouldn’t spend any more time with Logan Banks than she absolutely needed to.

Delaney woke with a start. Several hours must have passed, because her playlist had ended and there was a crease from the edge of the window against her cheek. A glance out the window showed that the sea below was dotted with ships and white-capped waves. Delaney rubbed her eyes.

“Did you sleep well?”

She looked up to see Logan peering at her over the edge of his laptop screen. Delaney was immediately annoyed, both with herself for falling asleep and with Logan for his irritating little smirk. He hadn’t asked her that question after the night they’d spent together, but now, on his private jet, he deigned to make a little conversation. It was infuriating.

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it does.” Logan looked hurt. “I need my art consultant in top condition to check out the painting tomorrow.”

Of course. That was all she was to him — an art consultant. It was another stinging comment.

“I wouldn’t want to let you down.” Delaney crossed her arms. “Is there a bathroom on this thing?”

“Of course. Straight back.”

Delaney got up and stalked past Logan to the bathroom, where she splashed cold water on her face and gave herself a stern look in the mirror. She wasn’t going to let Logan ruin her first big international trip.

Back in the main cabin, she took her seat and looked studiously out the window, just in time to see the green-and-brown ripple of a coastline far below. She was officially in Europe — that must be Italy down there. The corners of her mouth curved into a smile and she watched as small villages, mountains, and lakes unfolded beneath her.

A short while later, they began their descent. Delaney clutched the arms of her chair as they swooped down for a slightly bumpy landing, but once they rolled to a stop, her nerves were forgotten. She got up and stretched. Across the way, Logan did the same.

They descended a small set of stairs on wheels onto the tarmac and Logan led the way to a waiting car and driver. He opened one door and held out an arm as though intending to help Delaney in. With a look, she circled the car and got in from the other side.

As they drove out of the private airport, Delaney looked around at the billboards and shops. The landscape looked disappointingly familiar. Yet as they approached the city, she saw old buildings and a few statues that made her heart race.

“Our appraisal meeting is set for eleven a.m. tomorrow at the home of Marco Vassallo, who currently owns the painting,” Logan explained. “We’ll drive over together. After that, we’ll head back to New York.”

“Right.” Delaney wished she had a little more time to see Rome, but it wouldn’t be worth it if she had to be here with Logan. She’d have to come back someday, when she had more money and time. Maybe Cora would come with her.

“Until then, we have a free evening. I’d like to buy you dinner.”

Delaney was surprised, but she knew immediately what she wanted to say. “No, thank you. I’d like to enjoy my one evening in Rome on my own.”

“Are you sure? I have a reservation at a restaurant overlooking the Colosseum. It’s supposed to have the best food in the city, as well as one of the best views. I’d like to be on good terms with you. I know we left things on a bad note, but that wasn’t my intention.”

Delaney was briefly tempted. The best food in the city and a view of the Colosseum sounded amazing, and she wouldn’t be able to afford either on her own. But if she went along with Logan’s offer, it would mean that she’d forgiven him for how he’d treated her, and she couldn’t do that. He needed to know that it wasn’t okay to treat women the way he had. He also needed to know that he couldn’t just buy forgiveness with a nice restaurant. Delaney would rather have a quiet and inexpensive evening to herself than something flashy with Logan.

“I’ll stick to my own plans, thanks.” Her tone was curt, but she kept her words polite. A flicker of what might have been disappointment crossed Logan’s handsome features, but he snapped back to his usually confident self in an instant.

“Your loss. We’ll meet tomorrow at the hotel buffet for a meeting over breakfast, though.”

“Yes.”

They rode the rest of the way to the hotel in silence. Delaney was annoyed, but more than anything she was distracted by the city outside. Their hotel was in an older part of town, where the roads were paved in cobblestones and every corner seemed to offer a gorgeous historical church, a majestic water fountain, or a small restaurant with tables on the sidewalk.

They pulled up in front of an elegant hotel a few minutes later. Logan and Delaney got out at the same time and she went around the back to get her suitcase, only to have a porter take it from her with a smile.

“Two rooms; the name is Banks,” Logan said when they reached the check-in counter. After checking their passports, the hostess slid two key cards across the counter and wished them a pleasant stay.

“Which floor are you on?” Logan asked.

“It looks like the fifth floor. Room five-one-two.”

“Room five-one-one. It looks like we’ll be neighbors.”

“Wonderful.” Delaney’s tone had slipped from curt into sarcastic. They rode the elevator to their floor in silence. Logan nodded to Delaney before opening the door to his room.

“I’ll see you tomorrow for breakfast. Nine o’clock sharp.”

Delaney just nodded. She didn’t know why it was important that they meet for breakfast. Hopefully Logan wanted to talk strategy, not make any more empty offers of dinner and good terms.

Delaney stepped into her hotel room and her jaw dropped. She’d expected a small, professional room like she’d had in hotels previously, but this blew all other rooms out of the water. The bed was a huge four-poster with curtains, the kind Delaney had seen in princess movies as a child. There was a makeup table with a large, round mirror, and a sofa topped with fluffy pillows. On the other side of the room, a window looked out over the bustling street below. Delaney spotted a writing desk with ornate carved legs and a matching chair. There was also a bathroom with an enormous clawfoot tub and more complimentary beauty products than a cosmetics convention.

“Wow,” she whispered under her breath. Logan might be just like all the other rich jerks she knew, but he certainly wasn’t stingy.

Delaney took a quick shower to wash off the long flight, dressed in a pair of slacks and a creamy sweater against the cold, and took one last look around the room before heading out. Part of her wanted to do nothing more than soak in the tub and see if the bed was really as fluffy as it looked, but she had only one night in Rome, and she would enjoy it.

The street outside was filled with people who seemed to be on their way home from work. A glance at her phone showed that it was just after six in the evening. She had a few hours to explore before she’d need to get to bed — she needed to fight off the jet lag.

After a quick orienting glance, Delaney fell into the flow of foot traffic. Knowing that it would be impossible to see all of Rome’s landmarks in an evening, she decided to just wander the city tonight. After a few blocks, she turned into a cobbled alleyway lined with shops and spent longer than she should have looking at gorgeous dresses, gleaming jewelry, and elegant pastries in the shop windows.

The alley led her to a square with a fountain in the center. Tourists were taking pictures in front of an old church on the far side, and groups sat in sidewalk cafés, sipping coffees and chatting. Delaney crossed the square, passed a flock of pigeons that took flight with annoyed squawks, and stopped to buy a pistachio gelato from a street vendor. It was a little chilly for ice cream, but she couldn’t resist.

As she strolled and enjoyed her gelato, she wondered what Logan was doing at this exact moment. Probably seducing an Italian beauty, she thought darkly. After all, he was in the city for one night. It was perfect. There would be no time for awkward conversation in the morning. Delaney glared at her gelato, then forced herself to take a calming breath. There was no point in being angry, not when she was in the country she’d always dreamed of visiting.

She climbed a flight of steep stairs set into another alley, which led her to a small leafy park overlooking the city. Autumn was in full swing here, the trees bursting with reds, yellows, and oranges, and below Delaney could see the winding network of neighborhoods that made up Rome.

She explored until darkness fell and her feet ached. Just as she was starting to get hungry, she spotted a hole-in-the-wall pizzeria and went in. There, at a small table covered with a red-and-white-checked plastic tablecloth, she ate a Margherita pizza with fresh tomatoes, mozzarella, and basil, along with a bubbly Italian soda that tasted like lemons. It was one of the best dinners of her life.

After eating, Delaney was so tired she could barely move. She paid, then got out her phone for directions back to the hotel. Luckily, she was close. She walked slowly, admiring the ornate streetlights and the chatter of passersby, until she came to her hotel. To her surprise, Logan was also returning.

“Delaney.” He nodded at her. Delaney made a show of looking around.

“Hold on, where’s your latest conquest?”

“There isn’t one.” Logan looked annoyed. “Look, I’m sorry that I told you I didn’t want a serious relationship. I thought you felt the same way.”

“I did, but that doesn’t mean I wanted you to walk out without a backwards glance or any indication that the night we spent together meant something to you, like it did to me. But I guess I didn’t matter, huh?”

In her tiredness, Delaney was more forthright than she’d intended. Unable to bear hearing Logan’s reply, she pushed past him before he had a chance to reply and hurried across the lobby to the stairs. She waited in the stairwell for a long time, until she was sure Logan would have gone to his room, before she went to her own room.

How humiliating. Not only had she confessed to Logan how much his actions had hurt her, she’d also made their very awkward business trip even more awkward. Delaney had no idea how she was going to face him tomorrow for the appraisal.

The only saving grace was that she was too exhausted to worry. She changed into pajamas, climbed into the four-poster bed, closed the curtains, and pulled the fluffy comforter over herself. Her last thought before drifting into unconsciousness was that the bed really was as soft as it looked.