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Her heartbeat increased. There was only one person in the world who could distract her, and that was him.
‘Don’t tell me that old dog Alterra has been up to his tricks again?’ Gianni said with sudden vigour.
‘No! Everyone has treated me very well. I was a bit worried that Italy would be full of bottom-pinching Don Giovannis, but luckily that turned out to be nothing but a—’
She stopped with a squeal, her eyes wide with surprise. Gianni’s hand had slithered over her rump and delivered an intimate squeeze. In between smiling and nodding at his guests as they passed on their way in to dinner, he leaned in close and whispered in Meg’s ear.
‘It would be such a shame if every single man here tonight let the side down, mio dolce!’ he murmured. With a mischievous wink he detached himself from her, ready to take his place at the main table.
Meg couldn’t help herself.
‘Don’t leave me, Gianni!’ The cry escaped before she could stifle it. ‘I’m not cut out for this!’
‘Of course you are!’ His hand darted out to her again, but this time he gave her nothing more than a friendly pat of reassurance. ‘Come and sit down. Remember how impressed I was by you at the Chelsea Flower Show? Think about your spectacular triumph there. Concentrate on your achievements, not your doubts. If all else fails, count your qualifications,’ he finished with dry humour. Suddenly he leaned forward until his breath was whispering right into her ear. ‘You’ve got more to be proud of than all these celebrità put together!’ he murmured. Then he squeezed her elbow, and was gone.
Meg’s mouth fell open. Could that possibly be true? Her mind reeled through everything Gianni had ever said to her. Her body had burned for him from that first meeting at Chelsea. Now she was fired up for quite another reason. She had a job to do, and it was one full of purpose. By helping Gianni push forward with his plans for the Castelfino Estate, she would be securing her own future here at the villa. She might even earn some special thanks from him…
His flattery worked. Meg walked through the banqueting hall with her head held high, full of his encouragement. As she scanned the crowds of Europe’s most influential people only one man could hold her gaze. Gianni was in his element. Tall and suave, he stood behind his chair at the centre of the fifteen-metre long dining table, chatting with everyone. Meg hungered for another taste of his skill at putting people at their ease. She could not wait to take the empty place opposite him, but the crowd in front of her moved with agonising slowness. They were more interested in the life-sized Bellini family portraits ranged around the walls. Meg had to content herself with watching Gianni from a distance as he entertained his audience like the professional he was. She didn’t have long to savour his skill. He must have felt her watching him because suddenly he stopped, and shot a smile straight at her.
‘Ladies and Gentlemen—please give a special vote of thanks to the Villa Castelfino’s head gardener—Miss Megan Imsey. On top of her usual duties, she is responsible for all the wonderful floral art you see around you tonight!’ With that, he began to clap. His audience joined in. They all turned patronising smiles on Meg as she stood in the spotlight, shimmering with nerves.
She could have died from embarrassment, but cringing wasn’t an option tonight. Gianni likes my work so much he’s telling everyone. Perhaps I’m as good as he says I am, after all! She told herself. Nailing on a broad smile, she stood up as tall as she could and flung back her shoulders. The gaggle of guests blocking her way parted like magic. That gave her the confidence to stride straight towards the table. A footman pulled out her chair as she arrived. As she sat down he took the starched napkin from her side plate. Shaking out its folds, he settled it on her lap. Gianni watched the whole performance with undisguised pleasure.
‘I said you would be the star of my show, Megan,’ he murmured.
A portly, florid-faced couple waddled up to take their seats at the table, interrupting before Meg could respond with anything more than a nervous laugh.
‘Can’t you leave the girls alone for a single minute, Gianni?’ the man wheezed cheerfully.
‘When are you going to settle down under a mountain of debt and responsibility, like us?’ the woman added as she took the seat next to Gianni. This must be the Signora Ricci whom Meg had imagined to be a teenaged supermodel. Instead, she was an elderly woman wearing inches of make-up and weighing close to twenty stone. Meg heaved a huge sigh of relief. Despite Signora Ricci’s supercilious expression, Meg gave her a particularly warm smile. Gianni cleared his throat. Always glad of an excuse to look at him, Meg glanced across the table. He fixed her with an amused smile, but the look in his eyes was penetrating. ‘Never, if I have any say in the matter!’
His expression almost took Meg’s breath away. There could be no doubt about it—he meant what he said. This was a stark reminder. Giving her a conspiratorial wink, he greeted the newcomers with his special brand of charm. Meg tried not to look. But she couldn’t help listening in to the conversation, and was soon overwhelmed with a mixture of shock and admiration. Gianni could make all his words sound as convincing as his flirtation. She had to admire him for it. If only she could charm people so easily! She might have bounced Imsey’s Plant Centre out of trouble in minutes, rather than months. That would have left her free to concentrate on her own career. She could have taken that job with the royal family…but then, if she had done that, maybe she would never have met Gianni…
‘Aren’t you going to introduce your latest “friend” to us properly, Gianni?’ Signora Ricci boomed suddenly. She refused to be deflected from inspecting Meg, and looked at her as though she were something usually found in a spa drain. ‘Though how we’re expected to remember the names of all your women I really don’t know. You’ll have found yourself another before the evening’s over, I’ll bet!’
Meg didn’t know what to do. She wished she could think of a stinging reply, but this company was far too important to upset. She blushed and shrank in her seat, but Gianni came straight to her rescue. He drew himself up to his full impressive height. Everyone around them gasped. At well over six feet tall, he towered over his audience. Right now he was using every inch of his powerful build to drive his message home.
‘That’s what you think, Signora Ricci,’ he murmured, his seductive dark eyes hard as jet. ‘Now I am in charge here, the Castelfino estate is my priority. Everything else takes second place. And I mean everything. When I misbehave these days, I do it in private.’
This didn’t satisfy his tormentors. They guffawed loudly. ‘No, you’ll never change, Gianni! It’s a pity your father never saw through you, and recognised the truth. Someone should have told him. All your fast living will wreck this beautiful land, and you couldn’t even be bothered to give him a grandson to carry on the family name while he was alive!’ Signora Ricci cackled.
Until this point Gianni had merely looked annoyed. Now Meg saw a change come over him. At the mention of his father he drew in a long, exasperated breath and raised his granite chin in defiance. A nerve pulsed in his neck. Danger flashed in the glitter of his eyes. This guest had definitely found a chink in his armour of suave sophistication. He looked down his aristocratic nose at her as he delivered a damning retort.
‘That’s all in hand,’ He said coldly. ‘As soon as my plans for the Castelfino Estate are up and running, I shall marry. And I would be grateful if you would show my head gardener a little more respect, signora.’
His manners were perfect, and his smile as polite as ever. Despite that, Meg saw that his body was rigid, and his knuckles were white as he gripped the back of his chair. A cocktail of alarm and dread rushed through her veins. Signora Ricci had no such fears. She laughed out loud.
‘You’re going to get married, Gianni? You?’
’Naturalmente. Tradition means everything to my family. I must have a child, whatever the cost.’
In a flash Meg saw that the price to him would be astronomical. His words were darts of barely concealed anger, puncturing Signora Ricci like a balloon. Meg wilted at his tone, even though his rage was not directed at her. The moment he noticed her reaction, he took his seat and called for wine to be poured. It was enough of a distraction to allow him to shoot a few words across the table to her without anyone else noticing.
‘It’s OK, Megan. Cheer up—this evening is supposed to be a chance for people to enjoy themselves, don’t forget!’
When Gianni saw her smile, his temper improved in a flash. This might not be the nightclubs of Rome or New York, but it was a party, for all that. He was in his element. There was gourmet food, vintage wine and he had the most intriguing girl in the world seated opposite him. And every time he spoke to her, Meg’s lovely face lit up with a promise that was reflected all through her body. Candlelight rippled over the caramel waves of her hair, making it glitter with gold. She moved like a gentle breeze, tempting him with thoughts of possible pleasures to come. His eyes were drawn back to her time and again.
She’s some girl, he thought appreciatively, and tonight she’s acting the part of gracious lady to perfection. He smiled again as she was thrown into a momentary panic. Her napkin had slithered over the slippery surface of her dress, and fallen to the floor. Lifting the damask square from his own lap, he flourished it across the table towards her in a crackle of starched linen.
‘Don’t worry, Megan. You can take mine.’ He glittered at her. She responded with a flurry of blushes and thanks. He liked that. He never had to try when it came to impressing women, but his mind had seized on an intriguing idea. He felt the urge to turn this banquet into the equivalent of their first date. At times like this, it never hurt to go the extra mile.
That’s progress! he thought, taking note of the way Meg thanked him. Dancing shadows thrown by the candlelight accentuated the tempting depths of her cleavage. Although the room was warm, her nipples were already obvious through the silk of her dress. Gianni’s temperature rose. A new idea was forming in his restless mind. She was ambitious. He wanted her body. There might be a way to satisfy them both. His polite, public smile took on considerable inner warmth. This staid business banquet had given him a very good idea. Turning from playboy to patrician was shaping up to be the best sacrifice he had made in his life.
Chapter Six (#ulink_a6e7723d-11e8-5b4e-9d15-defde131e89c)
MORE wine was poured. Meg looked doubtfully at the mildewed peeling label on the bottle before her. She questioned Gianni across the table with her eyes.
‘It’s the villa’s tignanello reserve, kept for extra special occasions,’ Gianni explained, skimming his spoon across the bowl of soup in front of him. ‘Don’t let your consommé get cold, Megan. It’s too delicious to miss.’ He shot a look across the table at her. His meaning was as clear as the crystal carafe of water standing between them. It said: And so are you…
Gianni was a dedicated playboy, and while he might not yet be interested in marriage it did seem that for now he had his sights set on an affair with her, making it clear he was hers for the taking! He blew into my life like a tornado and wiped every other thought clean out of my mind. It’s the perfect excuse. Why shouldn’t I go mad, just this once? Heaven knows I deserve it. Up until now, I’ve sacrificed everything for the sake of my career. Surely it’s time to find out exactly what I’ve been missing!
She lifted her eyes and looked at Gianni across the table.
No woman can possibly be safe from him. So no one in the universe could blame me for falling under his spell…
She wavered. Then Gianni suddenly switched his attention to the pretty little waitress who had come to take his empty soup plate. The same irresistible smile was turned on her. In that instant Meg almost came to her senses. A voice in her head told her that this tiger would never settle down. She had heard it from his own lips, only a moment ago. Where did that leave her misty dreams of true love? But screams of reason, no matter how shrill, never had a chance. Meg’s whole body, mind and spirit had been taken over by thoughts of Gianni. Common sense dissolved. Everything about him overwhelmed her, from the delicious fragrance of his aftershave to the lilt of his voice. She wanted him, even if he slipped away through her fingers like a sunbeam. Whatever heartbreak the future might hold, she would be sure of at least one brief moment of happiness.
In that instant, Gianni’s expression changed. His eyes narrowed. A triumphant smile teased his lips. He became as watchful as a panther. Instead of being caressed by his gaze, Meg now felt invisible hands bending her to his will. The more certainty there was in Gianni’s expression, the more unstable she felt. I’m way out of my depth! she realised desperately. I can’t allow myself to fall into the hands of a man who’ll drop me in an instant! What will he think of me?
Even as she cringed at the thought, that wicked voice of temptation called to her again. This could be the most spectacular night of my life. If I never take a risk, I’ll never know. As long as we’re both discreet, where’s the problem? it said, loud and clear. The sudden rush of bravado raised her head and lowered her lashes. When she gazed across the table at Gianni now, it was with new eyes.
Delicious courses of the finest organic produce the Castelfino estate could produce came and went. Meg barely noticed. The conversation washed over her like a gentle tide. Finally, when the last pudding dish had been spirited away, more champagne arrived. Gianni pushed back his chair and stood up to give his speech. He spoke to the whole room, like the seasoned professional he was, but Meg felt every word of thanks and praise directed straight at her. He was laid-back, and delighted them all. She followed his every movement, every gesture. His gaze ranged right across the assembly but he never once made eye contact with her, however much she lusted after his attention. He announced many toasts, but barely touched his own foaming glass of Taittinger. In her nervousness, Meg emptied her glass twice. As Gianni sat down a waiter moved in to fill her glass again. The host was equally swift. Reaching across the table, he removed the crystal flute from her fingers.
‘That’s quite enough for tonight, don’t you think? You’ll need to keep your wits about you on the dance floor.’
His words wiped the smile straight from her face. ‘I’d forgotten that. I was looking forward to escaping to my greenhouses,’ she muttered, watching the glittering assembly with a hunted expression.
’Whose greenhouse?’ Gianni’s supercilious expression was only slightly softened when he raised his eyebrows. ‘Don’t worry. A couple more hours of dancing to my tune, then you’ll get your reward. You promised me a deluxe tour of the new empire you’ve created for me out in the grounds, remember? I’m the only person who hasn’t inspected Castelfino’s new exotic plant ranges, ladies and gentlemen,’ he explained to all the guests seated within earshot. ‘This evening has been such a success I’ll need some time to wind down afterwards. Would you mind if I took full advantage of your tropical paradise later on, Megan?’
His voice was as seductive as his expression. The promise in it was dark, dangerous and totally irresistible. She could only nod in reply. He smiled, his eyes flashing something that might have been triumph. Meg was on fire, but that look warned her she would have to be patient. This was Gianni’s evening. His cool confidence would keep him in control—until the moment they were alone together…
Meg yearned for a touch, or a look. It was a long time in coming. She had to watch him working the room in the same way he had charmed everyone at the Chelsea Flower Show. He had a smile and a friendly word for everyone—except Meg. She developed a way of flicking glances around the ballroom while still appearing to keep her full attention on the guest who was talking to her. Meg wasn’t one of life’s minglers, but she could do it when necessary. Gianni was an expert, and tonight he was conducting a masterclass. By the time his circuit of the room brought him back to her, she was burning with anticipation.
‘Thank goodness you’re back, Gianni! I’m running out of things to say!’
‘Oh, I doubt that.’ He chuckled. ‘You’re a natural at this, Megan. I’ve been watching you. You’ve missed your vocation in life. You would have been a great addition to the English royal family.’
Blushing furiously, Meg opened her mouth to protest at his joke but Gianni waved her worries aside.
‘Don’t disagree with me, Meg. I don’t have time for any of this “English reserve” nonsense. Diffidence never won any sales.’ All the time he was speaking, Gianni was casting an eye around the ballroom. He was the perfect host to his fingertips. Although concentrating on his guests, he noticed something the moment he began guiding Meg onto the dance floor.
‘It’s good to know you haven’t been trampling all over my clients’ feet. Not many girls can dance as well as you, Meg.’
Remembering his earlier words, she accepted the compliment gracefully. ‘Thank you, Gianni. It’s a useful social skill.’
‘And you have plenty of those. Thank you for being such a help to me this evening.’ He stopped studying his guests and looked down at her. His smile was too calculating to warm his eyes, but she couldn’t help reacting. Warmth flowed through her limbs like melting chocolate, slow and sweet. All the compliments she had been given about her work in the kitchen garden finally made sense. Gianni appreciated her efforts. His guests liked her work. They couldn’t all be saying nice things simply to be polite. They must mean them. All the compliments on top of two glasses of champagne made it a night for bravery.
‘It’s all an act,’ she admitted.
‘Mai!’ he laughed. ‘I don’t believe you. For instance, if I were to take you in my arms properly, and sweep you across the floor like this—’
With one bold movement he drew her into his body and propelled her towards the centre of the room. Other dancers melted away before them. Breathless with amazement, Meg was carried along by his expertise, held as though she were precious porcelain. Her beautiful new gown shimmered like a peacock’s feathers in the glow of a thousand candles. Caught up in the moment, she looked up into his eyes and saw the chandeliers were reflected in the darkness of his eyes, too.
‘Gianni…I never thought anything could feel like this…’ she gasped. His smile broadened. Meg knew instinctively she had said the wrong thing. This was Gianni Bellini. His silence had led to her spilling her soul in his office. Now his firm grasp and sure footsteps were dancing her into more danger. Her mind whirled in waltz-time. Only silence could have saved her. Telling him how she felt had only confirmed his already high opinion of himself as a ladykiller. She had played right into his hands. Hating herself for melting so completely against his body, Meg still could not stop. His touch was light but so assured she was powerless to resist. While his left hand clasped hers, the fingers of his right hand spread out in a protective cage across her back. He kept up the pressure, her breasts held secure against the broad expanse of his chest as they made turn after turn around the room. Meg shone in his arms, shown to her best advantage as she followed his lead. When the final strains of Strauss died away, Meg felt her face fall with disappointment. Then the applause began. Looking around with the confusion of a sleepwalker, she realised everyone was clapping—including Gianni.
‘Ladies and gentlemen: I give you the best qualified, the most nimble and the most beautiful head gardener in the history of horticulture!’ he announced.
Meg threw her hands up to her face, trying to cover her embarrassment. The crowd cooed its approval, and Gianni reached out to her. Meg looked at him with shining eyes. All he did was pat her shoulder in a parting gesture.
‘There—I said you could cope with anything!’ he said with a wink as his adoring crowd absorbed him again.
‘Gianni—’ Meg began, but it was hopeless. He had moved on. Guests began reclaiming the dance floor. Soon she was enveloped by a tide of couples. They all smiled and nodded knowingly at her, as though she were a marked woman from that moment on. As the band played on Meg forced herself to walk steadily away from the dance floor, head held high. Gianni might have taken her to paradise, but she could not afford to have her head in the clouds. No good ever came of mixing work with pleasure. As a student her studies had faltered when she had allowed Gavin to distract her. She was not going to make the same mistake again. She couldn’t afford to—in any sense of the word. This was the best job anyone in her position could wish for. And it has the best employer too, she thought wistfully, before she could think of a more politically correct reason. I can’t afford to mess up this one chance of making a success in a job that really matters to me.
The rest of Meg’s evening passed in an agony of suspense. Simmering with the promise Gianni had shown her, she was petrified the guests might notice something. She felt feverish. Catching sight of a reflection in one of the huge antique mirrors set around the summer dining hall, it was a few seconds before she recognised herself. She was used to seeing a dowdy little country mouse peering back at her. Tonight she saw quite a different creature. Her new dress and high heels made her look tall and sleek, but they were only window dressing. Meg had blossomed to complement their designer chic. Her eyes were large and luminous, her cheeks flushed and her hair coiled around her shoulders with a life of its own.
Gianni looked as though he didn’t have a care in the world. Cool and composed, he was totally absorbed by his guests. None of them was in any hurry to leave such a brilliant gathering, and he showed no signs of evicting them. Brought to fever pitch and now abandoned, Meg grew increasingly restless. Finally, she couldn’t stand it any longer. If he was so busy with his guests, he obviously wasn’t that bothered about her. In a flurry of indignation she set off towards the door. She had taken no more than three determined steps when Gianni appeared from nowhere and put a hand on her arm.
‘And where do you think you’re going, mio tesoro?’
His dark brows were raised. No answer was needed. The touch of his fingers on her sleeve was light, but inescapable. ‘None of my staff leaves before I dismiss them personally. Your time has not yet come, Megan. You are going to show me around your famous greenhouses, remember?’
She hesitated, not knowing what to think. How could he talk about work when he must know how her mind, body and soul ached for his touch?
‘If you insist,’ she said, but any attempt at dignity was completely foiled by what Gianni did next. His fingers closed on her. Then he slid his hand down her arm until he could grip her hand. He held it for half a heartbeat. In those blissful seconds she was touched by unmistakeable promise, and then released. This was going to be no ordinary meeting between employer and employee.
Gianni took his time in saying goodnight to his guests. He knew he could afford to. Megan Imsey was so hot for him. He wanted to savour the sweet anticipation of her supple little body for as long as possible. As the crowds thinned he began dismissing his staff. Finally, when the night shift moved in to clear away the remains of the dinner, Gianni strolled over to one of the refreshment tables. There he poured two espressos. Meg had been shadowing him closer by the minute. Turning, he held one cup of coffee out to her. The look on her face told him all he wanted to know. Sleeping with her was simply a matter of time. It was entirely up to him when, where and how. That feeling of power was unbeatable. His body hardened with delight, and he smiled. Megan was a smart girl. He had absolutely no doubt she would agree to his terms. He foresaw no trouble at all. Hadn’t she told him on her first day that she was only interested in getting paid? That direct approach deserved respect, of a sort. Gianni knew exactly where he stood with women like that. His mother had been a good teacher in that way.
Meg would be all over him from the moment he made his move. Women always were, but the divine Miss Imsey represented something a little different. He watched her concentrating on her tiny cup of coffee. If he hadn’t been so practised in the art of seduction he would have thought she was shy. Instead, he identified only the sly upward glances of an experienced seductress, and sighed. Women never gave him a moment’s peace. The only respite he’d ever had in the presence of a beautiful woman was Meg’s excitement when she talked about those blasted greenhouses. She was as bad as his father had been in that respect. Gianni felt many emotions when thinking about his late father, but pity was the only one he could put into words. He had spent too much time trying to avoid his father’s fate to feel anything more. He played the field, determined never to risk falling in love with a woman. Love had driven the old count to live the life of a virtual recluse for nearly thirty years. No way was Gianni going to allow himself to be bewitched like that.
He reached out and pulled an alpine strawberry from one of the floral decorations lined along the refreshment table. A tiny bud hung against the rosy cheek of the ripe fruit. Its stem was as fine as embroidery thread. Scrutinising it with the air of an expert, he saw a perfect flower in miniature, severed from its parent too early. It would never get the chance to flourish and fulfil its promise now. He held it out to Meg.
She shook her head. ‘There weren’t many ripe fruits available—you have it.’
‘No. I’ve had my fill of perfection. This strawberry may taste as good as it looks, but that isn’t always the way,’ he said at last, thinking back over his life. ‘It’s yours.’
He raised the berry to Meg’s lips. Obediently, she bit into it. The effect was magical. It was softly, sweetly, fragrant, and everything a strawberry should be. She sighed.
‘I can’t believe anything could be better than that.’
Gianni felt seduction warming his smile. Unwilling to betray everything that was going through his mind, he soon put a stop to it.
‘Oh, no? But I have a second treat in store for you, cara. Don’t say you’ve forgotten?’
Everything about his voice told her he was no longer talking about fruit. In a visible agony of anticipation, Meg waited. Gianni began to stroll away, throwing her a few words over his shoulder.
‘Come on, Eve. Let’s go and find your Garden of Eden.’
The gardens around the Villa Castelfino were a magical place at night. Lanterns fuelled with perfumed wax had been hung from every tree. In their soft light the flowers Meg tended so carefully took on an ethereal quality. Airy canopies of verbena and tobacco plants shimmered in the gloom. As Gianni led her into the new greenhouse complex their shadows danced in the light cast by thousands of fairy lights threaded through the plants. Without realising what she was doing, Meg pressed a button to override the ventilation system and put on some more air.
‘I didn’t bring you out here to work,’ Gianni said severely. ‘My father’s plans showed fully automatic systems throughout this entire crystal palace.’
‘In my opinion there’s no substitute for the human touch.’
She spoke without thinking, and instantly wondered if he would pick up on her words. When he said nothing, she began talking quickly to fill the silence. ‘What do you think of your father’s memorial? You need the proper greenhouse lighting to appreciate the plants. I’ll switch it on, and turn these coloured ones off—’
‘No—stop. The effect is perfect for what I have to say, Megan.’
She was already walking on into the first bay of the greenhouse. Gianni followed her. She stopped. He came to a halt only when he was close enough for his breath to ruffle the crown of her head.
‘I have a proposition to put to you,’ he added softly.
Meg whirled around. He smiled down at her in a way that answered all the questions she would never be able to ask.
‘What sort of proposition?’ Meg said when she could manage to speak.
‘The very best sort.’ Tearing his gaze from her, he cast a critical look around the high, airy structure of the greenhouse. Meg’s design was so perfect it looked like a tropical glade. Branches hung with orchids and bromeliads rose from a soft mossy bed studded with tiny bright flowers in every shade of amber, ruby and rose opal. The sound of water trickling over a rock face into a shallow pool completed the lush effect. Locked in behind the safety of the kitchen garden walls, Meg and Gianni were alone in her idea of paradise.
‘Are you as hot as I am?’ He passed one hand over his brow, his breath escaping in a hiss. Meg couldn’t bear to think of dark patches ruining the effect of her new designer dress. Slipping off her jacket, she laid it over the nearest branch.
‘Before the banquet you tried to tell me you were nervous, but now you’re stripping off!’ he teased her gently. ‘Don’t say my delicate little English Rose is turning into a man eater!’
‘Lovely as this is, it’s still my place of work,’ she said with uncomfortable, shy embarrassment. ‘I feel overdressed.’
‘So do I. May I take off my jacket, too?’
‘Of course.’
Once he had removed it, he released the knot of his tie and let it fall loose.
‘I can’t apologise enough for the way Signora Ricci treated you tonight, Megan. It was unforgivable, even though she has good reason to be bitter. She wants me,’ he explained without a flicker of embarrassment.
Every woman must want you, Meg thought, especially me…
‘I could see that by the way she spent all evening eyeing you up,’ she told him. ‘I could also see she didn’t think much of me.’
‘That’s why I want to make it up to you, Megan. You’re already my ideal employee, hard-working, discreet, and with perfect manners. You put on such a spectacular display tonight, both with your flowers and with the way you coped under pressure. I’d like to offer you an enhanced position, shall we say?’ His words were serious, but his beautiful eyes were laughing. ‘The fact is, I’d like you to take on a much more hands-on role in my household, carissima…’
His final word was a caress as intimate as his touch. He laid his hands lightly on her silk-clad shoulders. When she didn’t move, he allowed the tip of one finger to stray beneath the material of her sleeveless dress.
