Embarking on a tour of Tuscany, Cora Bishop is determined to see the sights and enjoy a torrid summer romance. Instead, she is robbed, beaten and forced to ask for help from the one man in Italy she yearns to avoid, Roberto Agnelli. Arrogant, domineering, Roberto takes one look at Cora and decides to make her an offer she can't refuse.Excerpt from Chapter 3The band started a new song, and this time Cora listened to the music instead of imagining stories about hostile hotel guests. She was starkly aware of his touch, his hand on her waist and the other clasped around hers. Tonight his masculine scent worked on her, perhaps even more than the Italian fragrances he wore. Cora closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, refusing to think of the blonde woman anymore. Someone should find a way to bottle the sizzling scent of Roberto Agnelli."You smell very nice," she whispered. The moment the words passed her lips she wished them back. It sounded like a come-on. Embarrassment heated her face. "I meant you smell clean." Cora gritted her teeth and closed her eyes. Brilliant."You told me the same thing the other evening. You said anyone who smelled as good as me didn't need to wear cologne."Cora stopped dancing. "When?"Roberto frowned. "You don't remember? It was when you fell asleep in the living room and I carried you back to your bed?"Threads of memory drifted through Cora's mind as she recalled that first night when she'd awoken in the guest bed, confused and panicked. She'd wandered to the den and curled up on the couch."I took you back to your room and you asked me to stay. One of the things you said was that I smelled good." He pulled her back into his arms. "Keep dancing, Cora."They joined the other couples once more, moving across the dance floor. Cora racked her memory of that night, searched the recesses of her mind for any recollection of what else she might have said. Roberto went on. "Then you told me that you wanted an Italian lover."Cora stumbled, and Roberto tightened his hold on her waist, slipped his arm around her. Cold dread settled inside her. Had all this, the dinner, the clothes, all the concern been because she'd propositioned him?She looked into his eyes. "Don't tell me anymore.""And you wanted it to be me, since I smelled so good."Cora refused to allow him to tease her. He might run roughshod over hotel guests, but not her. "I was most likely delusional.""Or very smart. I'm planning to adopt this direct approach myself. Think of all the game-playing and pretenses we can by-pass. Both parties would understand what they're getting into. This idea would help fix the biggest problem in relationships."Cora wished the ground would swallow her, but managed to keep an air of indifference to his words. It helped to try to avoid stepping on his feet. She tried counting silently to the music. "And what," she asked, "Would you say is the biggest problem in relationships?" "The biggest problem is that most women don't know when it's over."Cora shivered. His icy words felt like an Arctic chill in the sultry Tuscan evening. Giancarlo had warned her that his brother was heartless and unfeeling. Part of her hadn't believed him. How could one brother be so different from the other?"My delusional state has passed. I've come to my senses," Cora hoped her tone was smooth.Roberto laughed at her, leaned down and lowered his voice to whisper. "Tourists never come to their senses until they are home. What's the problem? If we go into this with a clear understanding of expectations, what will you have to regret?"