Chapter Five: Whatever It Takes

"You have got to be kidding me." Elizabeth O'Hara never smiled. But there were times when her arctic blue eyes took on a certain icy gleam. And this was definitely one of those times.

"Good morning to you too, boss." Marco Maselli winced as he swung the heavy stack of fresh, clean towels off the cart and onto the table in his training room. The big, tough Italian was bruised all over and covered with bandages.

"So I take it your first date with my cousin Mary was less than a complete success?" Like a cat toying with a mouse, the tall, red-haired woman moved closer, savoring the feeling of being completely in control.

"Mary didn't do this to me," Marco replied, reaching for the top button of his crisp Red Lake Spa uniform. "Really the pain's not so bad. I just need a massage, to loosen up the sore muscles."

"What are you doing?" Jarred by the unexpected move, Elizabeth began to edge backwards from the hulking Italian male. "You are NOT going to undress in my presence. How dare you? Have you lost your mind?"

With his chest already bare, Marco seemed to grow woozy, wobbling on his feet. "Gosh, I wish I hadn't taken all those painkillers last night after I left the Emergency Room. Those bikers . . and those wild dogs . . . oh, Marone!" Somehow he managed to fall face-down across the massage table, but not before stripping himself completely naked. "Could you pass me a towel, please?"

"This is not funny!" The powerful, take-charge woman hurled a towel at the Italian's hulking form, looking pale and almost panic-striken at all the male nudity in the room. Her fear was an odd contrast to her usual rigid self-control. "I hired you to make sure my cousin Mary was distracted from business. I want her pleasurably occupied in a way that will allow me to regain control of our family's vast business empire. I want results, damn it!"

"Swell," the big Italian grunted. "I want more money."

"More money for what?" Elizabeth demanded. "As far as I can tell, you and my cousin haven't even . . ." Suddenly there was a gentle tap on the door of the training room.

"Marco?" called a cheerful female voice.

"Hide," Marco grunted, without even opening his eyes. Elizabeth ducked into the closet at once.

"Marco, there you are!" Mary breezed into the room with a bright smile on her face, wearing a crisp snow white blouse and butter-colored cotton slacks. Clearly delighted to see the big masseur, she stopped only when she saw the bruises spread all across his muscular back. "Oh, no! I didn't think you were hurt that badly? Should I call someone?"

"It's nothing," Marco grumbled. "The bruises are just from getting thrown through the window by those bikers. A little snooze before the spa opens, that's all I need."

"That is not all you need!" Mary's soft green eyes threw sparks. Without a second's hesitation, she picked up a bottle of soothing ointment and began rubbing it vigorously over Marco's broad shoulders. "I don't blame you for being exhausted," she confided, in her soft and gentle voice. "After I left you at the hospital, I didn't get a wink of sleep either. The first thing I did was to make the sheriff and his people get all those poor abandoned dogs over to the animal hospital. I never realized before how many meth labs use pit bulls for security!"

"I never realized that either," Marco groaned, relaxing as Mary's gentle hands soothed the pain of his wounds. "I would never have taken you up there if I thought those clowns were going to fight back."

"Well, I'm glad you did," the gentle blonde assured him, her slim fingers digging deeper into his back. "I had a long talk with Mr. Gascony this morning. The poor man, he's just heartbroken by his son's downfall! All those tours in Afghanistan and Iraq just changed him. I guess some men never come back from the things they've seen."

"Yeah," Marco sighed. Mary's hands were putting him to sleep. "So you're going to get Gascony's son locked up for running a meth lab on the family farm?"

"Oh, no! I want to get him treatment! And of course find a home for all those poor damaged dogs. And I want to get the board to give me the money to buy Gascony Farms outright - and help poor Mr. Gascony get settled in Florida."

"Cost money," the big man muttered. "Stockholders, shareholders . . . they won't like it."

"But we have to help! Maybe if I approach them in the right way," Mary frowned, doubt on her delicate face.

"Business isn't about being nice," Marco told her. "You want to help people, fine. But sometimes you have to break the rules."

Mary giggled. "This sounds like the beginning of a lecture. Why not let me take you to dinner tonight? Then you can lecture me all you want."

"No." The tone of Marco's voice was brutal. "No dates."

"But why?" Mary's voice quivered a bit. "After last night, I thought you were on my side! The beating you took . . ."

"I don't like taking punishment," Marco said, lying still on the table. "I like giving it. I mean the kind where the other person wants it, and asks for it, and agrees to be tied up and have it done to them in advance."

"Oh." Mary's hands went still on his powerful back.

"Still want to date me, princess?"

"Well, I . . . I've never . . . I mean I haven't . . . I mean, let's have dinner and talk it over in a few days!"

"Yeah," Marco grunted. "Whatever. Have your people call my people."

"I will! I mean, dinner, I will, yes! And thank you for last night!" Mary squeaked and was out the door.

"You didn't have to scare her," Elizabeth said, in a dry tone, coming out of the closet. "Anyone could see the way her cheeks went pink when you talked about the bondage scene. Being submissive to a man is probably her secret fantasy." Elizabeth's cold blue eyes showed contempt and disdain.

"So how much do I get for making all her little girl fantasies come true?"

Elizabeth sighed, and threw him his crisp spa uniform. "Whatever it takes, Mr. Maselli. Whatever it takes."