But then neither did he. Vieri ran a hand over his jaw, rapidly assessing this new situation. Maybe they were in it together, this pair of Celtic beauties. He wouldn’t put it past them. Perhaps this one had been sent as backup. They might just be dumb enough to think they could get away with it. Although dumb was not a word he would use to describe the woman sitting across from him now. There was something about her that suggested a sharp intelligence. If nothing else, it was possible she might be able to lead him to her double-crossing sister. One thing was for sure, she wouldn’t be leaving here until she had been thoroughly interrogated.
‘Name?’ He barked the question at her.
‘Harper.’ She shifted in her seat. ‘Harper McDonald.’
When he didn’t immediately reply she tipped her chin in a show of defiance. ‘And you are?’
Vieri’s brows snapped together. He wasn’t accustomed to being asked who he was. Least of all in one of his own establishments.
‘Vieri Romano.’ He kept his tone steady. ‘Owner of Spectrum nightclub.’
‘Oh.’ He watched her full pink lips purse closed as realisation dawned. ‘Then I should like to formally complain about the way I have been treated here. You have absolutely no right to—’
‘Where is your sister, Ms McDonald?’ Raising his voice, Vieri cut short her futile protests. He had no time to listen to her pathetic accusations.
She bit down on her lip, nipping the soft flesh with her front teeth, the action engaging Vieri more than it should. ‘I don’t know.’ He could hear the panic in her voice. ‘That’s why I’m here, to try and find her. I haven’t heard from her in over a month.’
Pulling his eyes away from her seductive mouth, Vieri let out a derisive grunt. ‘Well, that makes two of us.’
‘So she’s not here?’ The panic escalated. ‘She quit her job?’
‘She has walked out, if that’s what you mean. Along with my bar manager, Max Rodriguez.’
‘Walked out?’
‘Si. Disappeared without a trace.’
‘Oh, God.’ Harper reached forward to grip the edge of the desk with hands that visibly shook. ‘Where has she gone?’
Vieri shrugged his lack of knowledge, watching her reaction closely.
‘You have no idea what might have happened to her?’
‘Not yet.’ He picked up some papers on his desk, tidying them into a pile. ‘But I intend to find out. And when I do, her troubles will be just beginning.’
‘Wh...what do you mean by that?’ Harper’s remarkable green-brown eyes widened.
‘I mean that I don’t take kindly to my employees disappearing off the face of the earth. Especially with thirty thousand dollars of my money.’
‘Thirty thousand dollars?’ Her hands flew to her mouth. ‘You mean Leah and this Max guy have stolen money from you?’
‘Your sister and I had a business arrangement, or so I thought. I made the mistake of paying her the first instalment up front. She has absconded with the money.’
‘No! Oh, I’m so sorry!’
She looked suitably shocked, enough to convince Vieri that she knew nothing about it, but he noted with interest that she didn’t challenge the facts.
‘She will be too, believe me.’
He leant back in his chair. Much as he blamed Leah for her devious deceit, most of his fury was directed at himself. How could he have been so stupid as to fall for her sob story and give her the payment in advance? All that garbage about needing the money straight away to send back home to her family, for her father who was struggling to keep his job. It smarted like a smack in the face. Not the thirty thousand dollars—he didn’t give a damn about that. If she had had the guts to ask him outright for the money he might well have given it to her. But the fact was that he, Vieri Romano, billionaire businessman, international tycoon, a man both revered and feared in the corporate world, had been taken for a fool. By a woman. Something he had sworn would never happen again.
But Leah McDonald had caught him at a low point, when his defences had been down. And what had seemed like a good idea at the time, the ideal solution in fact, had now spectacularly backfired.
He had been drinking in the club one evening, uncharacteristically feeling the need to drown his sorrows after the news he had received earlier that day. Leah had been his waitress. She had been attentive but discreet, just the way he liked his staff to be. On another night he might have made a mental note to congratulate the management on their staff training. But tonight, to his surprise, he found he just wanted to talk. And so he had, sharing a quiet booth and a bottle of Scotch, appropriately enough, with this bright-eyed Scottish woman. With her soothing encouragement he had told her about his godfather, the man who meant more to Vieri than anyone else in the world. The only person who meant anything to him. How he had received an email from the man that morning, confirming Vieri’s worst fears. His godfather was dying. It was just a matter of time.
Had he left it there no harm would have been done. He would have gone home to continue his drinking and Leah would have pocketed a handsome tip, just another night and another guy offloading his troubles. Even if this time the guy was the boss. But something about her gentle voice had drawn him in, made him go further, and he had found himself telling her about the last time he had seen his godfather, the heart-to-heart they had had. How Alfonso had revealed to him what he had suspected at the time and now knew for sure, his dying wish. To see Vieri settled. With a wife. A family. The one thing Vieri had never had. Nor ever would have.
And Leah’s response had been remarkably practical. If that was his godfather’s last wish then it had to be accomplished. It was Vieri’s duty. She had been quite adamant about it. If there were no genuine contenders for the role of fiancée, then he would have to find somebody, pay someone if necessary. Anything to make his godfather happy.
And to Vieri’s surprise he found himself wondering if maybe this young woman was right. Maybe that was the solution. He had always made his godfather proud, he didn’t doubt that, but this was different. This was about happiness. Something that for all his wealth and success Vieri had never fully understood. But he did know that if there was any way of fulfilling his godfather’s dying wish, he would give it a go. Even if it meant a bit of subterfuge.
And so, by the time he had savoured the last of the peaty whisky at the bottom of his glass, the deal had been struck. Leah needed money and he needed a fake fiancée. In return for a down payment of thirty thousand dollars, Leah would pretend to be engaged to him for a couple of months, or for as long as it took. At the time, his alcohol-soaked brain had thought it the ideal solution. A way of making his godfather happy that didn’t involve messy emotions. The potentially insoluble problem had suddenly shaped into something that he could control, something he understood better than anything else—a business deal.
But that was then. No sooner had Vieri paid the money into Leah’s account than she had absconded. But, crucially, not before he had announced to his delighted godfather that he had taken his advice. That his wish had been granted and Vieri would be introducing him to his fiancée in the very near future.
Now he was left with a problem. When security had alerted him that Leah was back he had made the short journey from his offices in Midtown Manhattan, determined to have it out with