Chapter 5 ARIANNA

Walking through the door into the elegant office, I couldn't help but feel intimidated.

Behind the grand desk was a beautiful woman in her early fifties, although from the way she was dressed and her immaculate make-up, she could have passed for forty easily. She was wearing a colorful satin dress that screamed designer brand and was drumming her acrylic nails on the expensive oak desk in front of her.

I gulped as she turned her head in my direction and looked me up and down. Her face slowly turned from serious to amused as a smile played on her lips. I gave her my most charming smile before my eyes flickered over to the intimidating man who was burning a hole in my head with the intensity of his stare. Fuck not him again.

His giant frame was leaning back on a white leather sofa, one leg resting casually over his other knee and his arms stretched out along the back. He regarded me as if I was on auction as his dark eyes slowly raked over my body. It felt like he was undressing me with his deep brown eyes and I shifted uncomfortably on my feet.

"Please, Miss Rivas, take a seat," The woman who I assumed was Mrs. Rossi held out her hand in the direction of the glass chair a few meters in front of them. "My name is Olivia Rossi and this is my son, Antonio Rossi."

I smiled politely at her but as my eyes met his, I felt the heat spreading across my skin again. Fuck sake Ari. Get a grip. Stop reacting to him. Dragging my gaze back to the blonde woman in front of me, I decided I would solely focus on her and ignore him completely. "It's a pleasure to meet you both," I smiled, lying through my teeth.

She leaned back in her chair and studied me with mischief in her eyes. There was something odd about this woman, but I couldn't put my finger on it. She was almost youthful, but she also had an underlying sadness behind her eyes. Something that warned me that she was not perhaps all as perfectly together as she seemed.

The room pulsed with tension as the seconds ticked by and no one spoke. Were they waiting for me to speak? I thought they were supposed to ask the Questions.

After studying me for what felt like an eternity, Cecilia leaned forward on her desk and placed a pair of cat-eye glasses on the bridge of her nose before opening a file on her desk.

"Arianna Rivas". 23 years young and from London." She nodded her head in approval before she continued. "It says here that you studied at Plymouth University to become a primary school teacher but you never graduated. Why not?"

I swallowed my nerves at her directness and lifted my chin a little higher. "Family circumstances. I hope to finish my degree soon, but I thought I would take some time out to try something new. A new life experience."

"That being?" she prodded, looking over the rim of her glasses.

"To live in another country. Learn a new language and culture," I said confidently. I had rehearsed these answers numerous times, but I still felt sick talking about it. I knew they would have questions about why there was a two-year gap from when I left school until I attended university and then why I left university in my third year, so close to the end. But I didn't need them to know the real reason why.

She narrowed her eyes at me as she assessed my answer. "So why should I employ you to take care of my children if you have no real experience or qualifications?"

I shuffled on my seat awkwardly and did my best not to look in the direction of the piercing gaze of Antonio Rossi. "Because I love children. I may not have a degree in teaching yet, but I am practically at the end of my course and was the highest in my classes. I am trained in education, first aid, and safeguarding. I was an A* student in high school and at the end of the day, I care.

I believe children should work hard to get what they want in life, but also to have fun. To have a real childhood full of happy memories and great experiences. I know I could provide that, and I saw that you wanted them to learn English. Well, it's the only language I can speak...fluently."

Her face slowly lit up into a broad grin and she threw her pen down on the desk, causing me to jump. "I like her!" She shouted, glancing over at her son.

"Mamma," Antonio's deep voice had a warning in it and my eyes darted over to him. Sitting there in all black, cloaked in shadows, he looked every

Inch the kind of arrogant bad boy I despised.

I was surprised to see that his face was tense, his jaw clenched as he looked me over before meeting her gaze. He said something quickly in Italian to her and I squeezed my thighs together after hearing his natural Italian voice so dominating and sexy as hell. I cursed myself internally.

All men who can speak Italian fluently are sexy. There was nothing special about this one, I tried to convince myself.

She dismissed whatever he said with a wave of her hand. "Tell me, Arianna. Do you want to sleep with my son?"

My mouth dropped open, and my eyes widened at her shocking question. What kind of interview was this? Antonio looked just as outraged as he sat up and glared at his mother, shouting something at her again in Italian. She ignored him and kept her gaze on me.

Was this a trick? What was I supposed to say? The right answer was no. But something about the way she was looking at me, made me want to be completely frank with her.

"I'm sorry but I am not sure what this has got to do with the job?" I asked carefully. A little glimmer of amusement flashed across her eyes, and I felt her son's gaze return to me. He seemed surprised by my forwardness.

"It has everything to do with the job. Could you please answer the question? Honestly," she encouraged with a smile. His eyes moved to mine and his expression softened. He now looked intrigued and a little smug as he waited for my answer.

Honestly, my body wanted him. Yes. He was dark, mysterious, and drop-dead gorgeous, but he was also everything I hated in a man. I could tell he was controlling, cocky and dangerous.

A combination that triggered me to the core. And no one should be this good-looking. It was annoying.

"Honestly, there is no doubt that your son is attractive, but no, I do not want to sleep with him. Not." I replied with conviction. The man snorted and shook his head, his black-olive eyes challenging mine. I squinted my eyes with a deep scowl. He thinks I am lying. He is that up himself. I am sure he is used to every woman falling to his feet and doing whatever he wants. Well, not me.

He has met his match.

His mother looked between us with interest, before sitting up in her chair and pulling my attention back. "OK, one more thing, Arianna. You say here your best traits are stubbornness, forgetfulness, and overthinking."

My eyes bulged in panic. Fuck that traitor! She told me the wrong question! I stumbled over my words as I tried to explain, "I'm sorry. My Italian is not great, and I must have interpreted the question wrong. I thought it said `What are your worst traits?'"

She chuckled and shook her head, removing her glasses as she did. "Well, I have to say, Ms Rivas.. I enjoyed this interview far more than I normally do. My children would love your dress as well. We have some more candidates to see, so we will be in touch."

I nodded and stood up, thankful that this was over, and I could get the hell out of this place. "Thank you for your time."

I turned to leave the room, but as I reached the door, I suddenly felt a surge of courage power through me. No matter how much money these people had or how good-looking they were, they couldn't treat me like shit. Turning on my heels, I glared straight into Antonio's dark eyes.

"Just so you know. My underwear will never look good on your floor, so you can keep on dreaming." Shock possessed his devilish features before he frowned deeply at his mother's raucous laughter. I opened the door and walked out with my head held high. There would be plenty of other jobs. I didn't need this one.