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Nor did he resume his seat; instead he sat on the edge of his desk facing her, hands supporting him on either side, long legs outstretched. He was so close that she could smell the discreet, expensive aftershave he wore and it added to the drugging of her senses. No man had ever affected her like this, not so suddenly, not so violently—not against her will! Not even Andrew whom she had thought that she loved.
There was a pain in her chest where her heart pounded, a tightening of her throat, and she looked up at him and felt frightened. ‘I—I can’t take this job, Mr Segurini’
‘And why not, Celena?’ A smile curved his lips though it did not reach his eyes, revealing his displeasure at her refusal.
‘I need to find out whether it’s true what you say about Hillier and Jones.’
‘And when you find it is, what excuse will you use then?’
Celena drew in a deep breath. ‘It’s all very irregular, Mr Segurini. I cannot help feeling suspicious.’
‘Are you saying the extra money would not be useful?’ His voice was deep and disconcerting, sending shivers down her spine and uneasy sensations to the pit of her stomach.
‘I guess money is always useful,’ she admitted, ‘but it’s not always the answer.’ And why the hell was she procrastinating? Why didn’t she jump in with both feet and take his offer? Lord, she was a fool.
He pushed himself away from the desk and moved to the back of her chair, resting his hands on it and lowering himself so that his mouth was close to her ear. ‘You’re an amazing woman, Celena Coulsden.’
The soft words vibrated through every limb, through every nerve. She knew what he was doing—he was using his sensuality, confident that he would get through to her this way.
Fear struck. Surely he hadn’t guessed that she already felt an unnerving response? Surely she hadn’t given herself away? No, she was confident that she hadn’t. He was playing games, certain that he would come out on top.
She moved quickly, pushing herself to her feet, dodging away from him. ‘This is a very unorthodox interview, Mr Segurini.’
‘I’m an unorthodox man.’ It was a low growl, coming from somewhere deep in his throat. It set Celena’s whole body tingling.
‘Do you always use your sex appeal to get what you want?’ She kept her voice cool, her chin high. Since Andrew she had had plenty of practice at keeping the wolves at bay. She had a classically beautiful face with high cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes and a wide, generous mouth, and these combined with her willowy figure and her thick auburn hair made her the target of many men’s attention. She had got used to fending off their advances and now she gave Luciano Segurini one of her most damning looks.
His mouth twitched at the corners. ‘Was that what I was doing?’
‘It looked very much like it to me,’ she retorted crossly.
‘I wasn’t aware of the fact.’
‘Really?’ she asked disbelievingly.
‘I think your imagination is working overtime,’ he told her as he slid into the chair that she had vacated and put his feet up on the edge of the desk. ‘However, if I’m getting through to you, if I’m managing to persuade you that you would be doing both yourself and me a favour by taking this job, then it’s not a bad thing.’ He folded his arms and looked totally relaxed.
Celena was not deceived; he was still in complete command of the situation, though she was glad of the few feet that were now between them, and more especially of the advantage his sitting down had given her. She looked at him coldly. ‘You’re not getting through to me. As a matter of fact your behaviour is convincing me that I would be making a fatal mistake in accepting your offer.’
He frowned and sprang to his feet, his movements fluid despite the anger that surged through him. ‘My sincere apologies, Miss Coulsden. I thought the informality would help. Obviously I was wrong.’ He returned to his side of the desk and stood looking at her, and there was nothing now on his face to suggest that this was anything other than a normal job interview.
‘And you were wrong in assuming I would jump at this opportunity,’ she declared fiercely. ‘I think we have nothing further to say. Good morning, Mr Segurini.’ And even the fact that she knew she would regret her hastiness later did not make her change her mind.
To her amazement he let her go; he let her walk out of the room without saying another word, and when she got back to her office and made a few discreet enquiries she discovered that every word Luciano Segurini had said was true. It looked as though she was going to be jobless and penniless and Davina would definitely have to pull out of her school. The thought both saddened and distressed her.
* * *
That evening when she got home from work there was an enormous bouquet of white roses awaiting her. She picked them up from the doorstep and looked curiously at the card.
To the most amazing woman I have ever met. The offer is still open if you should change your mind. I will be in touch.
It was not signed—it did not have to be—and while Celina was relieved, financially, that she might be offered the job all over again she groaned inwardly at the thought that there could be another confrontation with the most amazing man she had ever met. So far she had told no one of her experience, having used the excuse of a dental appointment to cover her absence, and now she opened the door and moved inside.
When her parents had died she had sold their draughty Victorian house in Norfolk and moved nearer to London and her job, and this cosy mews house suited her very well. If it hadn’t been for Davina’s school fees she would have managed quite comfortably—as things stood it was a definite struggle.
She dropped the flowers on the kitchen worktop, contemplating whether to relegate them to the dustbin. If she dared put them in a vase they would be a constant reminder of the man who had had such a profound effect on her in such a short space of time. She took a shower and slipped into a comfortable jade-green silk jumpsuit
She prepared her evening meal—cold chicken left over from Sunday, with a green salad and new potatoes—and still the sweet-smelling roses lay where she had left them. She had just finished eating when the doorbell rang. As she was constantly being pestered by callers Celena was tempted not to answer—until it rang again and whoever it was kept a finger on the button.
Normally before opening the door Celena made sure that the safety chain was in place. On this occasion, however, she snatched it open without even thinking, intent on giving whoever it was a piece of her mind. Her mouth fell open. ‘Mr Segurini! What are you doing here?’
He smiled unnervingly. ‘I’m checking that my flowers arrived safely.’
Celena’s eyes were guarded. ‘A phone call would have sufficed. And yes, they have, thank you very much, though I can’t think why you sent them.’
‘I hope you like white roses.’ His thickly fringed eyes made a slow and thorough appraisal of her body, starting at the tip of her pink-painted toenails, rising slowly, pausing fractionally on her breasts, and again on her mouth, then coming to a complete halt when they reached her eyes.
Celena felt breathless. ‘Yes,’ she whispered. They were her favourite, though he couldn’t have known that.
‘It’s a pity that when one orders flowers one never actually gets to see them.’
‘If you’re after an invite into my house then you’re out of luck.’ She desperately tried to quell the surging of her senses. He had changed into a pair of lightweight blue trousers and a matching cashmere sweater, the casual clothes emphasising his hard-muscled body, making him an even more dangerous adversary. Her mind might tell her that he was not to be trusted, but her body certainly had no such reservations.
‘I thought perhaps we could go out for a drink, get to know each other better, discuss my offer in more detail.’ He smiled as he spoke, his brown eyes still intent on hers.
The audacity of the man! Celena’s heart leapt but she made herself frown, saying crossly, ‘Don’t you ever take no for an answer?’
‘Not if I really want something.’
‘And you want me?’ It was the wrong thing to have said; she felt a flush coming to her cheeks, which was insane—she hadn’t blushed in years. Celena decided to rephrase her question. ‘I mean, you want me to work for you?’
His lips twitched as he recognised her discomfiture. ‘You’re perfect for the job.’
‘I think there’s more to it,’ she retorted.
He frowned. ‘What ever gave you that idea?’
‘Your insistence, for one thing.’
‘And for another?’
‘Feminine intuition.’ Her tone was cool. She had herself in control now.
He smiled. ‘Ah, that.’
‘Yes, that,’ she snapped. ‘Are you denying that I am right?’
‘It’s an interesting theory. How about we go out and discuss it?’
Celena let out an impatient sigh. ‘I don’t want to go out I’ve had a hell of a day, with no thanks to you; I planned on an early night.’
He shot a glance at his watch—an expensive gold affair. Cartier probably, she decided, seeing the Roman numerals on its face. Everything about this man spelt wealth, and he seemed to think that it could get him whatever he wanted. She had no doubt that he intended to offer her an even higher salary.
‘It’s early yet—only a little after eight,’ he said. ‘Perhaps we could talk here? I promise to take up no more than an hour of your time.’
She felt a fresh surge of apprehension. ‘I never allow strangers into my house.’
Thick brows lifted. ‘I don’t think we’re entirely strangers, and I promise you, Miss Coulsden, that my intentions are strictly honourable.’ He chuckled as he said it. ‘An old-fashioned turn of phrase. Let me put it another way. I have no designs on your body, beautiful though it is. You’ll be perfectly safe.’
And Celena surprised herself by believing him. She found him dangerous in many ways, but felt instinctively that she could accept his word on this occasion. ‘Very well.’ She stepped back reluctantly. ‘Though I promise you you’ll be wasting your time; I never change my mind once it is made up.’
His lips quirked. ‘And I never accept no for an answer. An impasse, no less. It will be interesting to see who wins.’
The character of the house changed as he stepped inside. It had always had a relaxed, comfortable feeling, but the instant this man entered the whole atmosphere became charged—as it had in his office! It was going to be a difficult meeting, Celena decided.
She led him down the hallway to her sitting room at the back, which overlooked a pleasant courtyard which she had filled with tubs and containers growing a profusion of colourful plants and climbing shrubs, making the small area look almost Mediterranean.
‘Please sit down.’ She indicated a dumpy armchair that she had recovered in rust linen, but sat on the opposite side of the room herself on a straight wooden chair with her back to the French windows. It put him at a disadvantage because the low evening sunlight slanted right into his eyes.
She had reckoned without his guessing her tactics. He got up and smiled—that wolfish smile which hinted that he was in complete control. ‘You take the comfortable chair.’
He held out a hand and she had no choice, but she ignored his offer of help, pulling the curtains slightly before she sat down. But not enough. The sun still caught the chair and made her squint as she looked at him.
‘The hot spot?’ he queried. ‘Good try, Miss Coulsden, but I prefer to be the one in control.’
She said nothing, hiding her embarrassment, looking at him with her lips clamped together, her grey eyes stormy. ‘OK, make your offer.’
Their eyes met and held for several long, suspenseful seconds—seconds during which Celena’s heart catapulted once again with violent emotion.
‘I think,’ he said, his tone low and meaningful, ‘that first of all we ought to analyse your motives for refusing.’
She lifted one eyebrow. ‘Analyse? There is nothing to analyse.’
‘No?’ he asked sceptically. ‘No one except the very rich wouldn’t like to earn more money.’
Her eyes flashed. ‘And you’re one of that élite band, thinking that your money can buy anything you’ve set your heart on. Let me tell you this, Mr Segurini—I refuse to be bought Didn’t I make myself clear?’
‘Did you check on the situation with your present employers?’
She inclined her head. ‘You were right,’ she admitted grudgingly.
‘And you have a mortgage on this house?’
‘I don’t see that that is any business of yours,’ she retorted. He probably knew anyway; it was very likely one of the pieces of information stored in his computer system. Her parents’ house hadn’t fetched all that much, and property here was so much dearer, so yes, she did have a mortgage.
‘And then, of course,’ he said with a slow, knowing smile as he delivered his pièce de résistance, ‘there are your sister’s school fees. It must be quite a struggle for you, Celena.’
Celena gasped, even though she knew she ought not to be surprised, and jumped to her feet, moving so that the sun was not glaring into her eyes. ‘Get out of here, you swine. You have no right prying into—’
‘You’re even more beautiful when you’re angry,’ he cut in softly. ‘It amazes me that some man hasn’t snapped you up before now. You need the job, Celena; why don’t you take it?’
He was right—she did need it; she could not afford to turn him down a second time. But there was still defiance in her eyes. ‘Only if you triple my present salary,’ she declared, chin jutting.
A wide smile softened the harsh contours of his face; white teeth gleamed. ‘Done.’ He stood too and held out his hand and Celena was compelled to take it ‘I knew you would come to your senses. Everyone has their price.’
His grip pulverised her hand, but more shocking than that were the waves of electricity that ran through her—the chemical reaction that she had felt in his office but which was much stronger here. Please God, don’t let our paths cross too often, she prayed silently.
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_558c8735-4879-5903-8cc7-7b5cfeed959e)
ONE month later Celena began working for Luse and for the first week and a half, much to her relief, she saw nothing of Luciano, though his name was on everyone’s lips. Luciano this, Luciano that, Luciano wants, Luciano would like, et cetera, et cetera. And Luciano got!
She was also quizzed tirelessly as to how she had got her job. No one had left; there had been no real vacancy. It was apparently a made-up job, and one that puzzled everyone else as much as Celena. A second bouquet of white roses had arrived—this time the card had simply read ‘Thank you’.
And then came the summons to the big man’s office. To her annoyance Celena felt her heart pounding long before she reached the end of the corridor which took her to his room. She paused a moment outside to regain her equilibrium and was standing there breathing deeply when the door was suddenly yanked opened.
‘What are you doing, Miss Coulsden?’ Luciano Segurini asked with considerable amusement. ‘Plucking up courage to face the lion in his den?’
He was so very near the mark that to save herself embarrassment she said, ‘Naturally. You’re held in very high esteem, Mr Segurini A call to your sanctum is not to be treated lightly. What is it—am I getting the sack, or a raise?’
His lips quirked as he motioned her inside. ‘Very few of my employees would dare to speak to me like that’
‘Really?’ She allowed a faint frown. ‘Didn’t you tell me, just after I accepted this job, that you’re one big happy family here? No distinction between the classes, so to speak? If that is the case I see no reason why I can’t say what I like.’ As he had been ready to go to any lengths to employ her she had no fear of dismissal.
‘No matter.’ He motioned her to sit down, settling himself behind his huge desk as he had on that first occasion. And now, as then, Celena felt her skin tingle, felt the enormous pull of his magnetism, and puzzled anew at her unexpected and uncharacteristic response.
‘Have you any immediate plans, Celena?’
She frowned faintly, not altogether sure that she understood.
‘I mean personal ones. Holidays, that sort of thing.’ His tone was crisp and professional and it was a relief to hear him talking like this.
‘No.’ She resisted the temptation to say she was sure that he knew anyway, that he had everything on computer down to the birthmark on her left thigh. He probably even knew what her bank balance was.
‘Good, because I want you to accompany me to Sicily.’
‘Sicily?’ she repeated in amazement.
‘Yes, my home country.’
‘And for what reason am I to accompany you?’ Alarm bells sounded once again in her head—extra loud ones this time.
‘Purely business, of course. I handle quite a lot of advertising over there.’
‘And why do you need me?’
‘Isn’t that clear?’ he asked sharply, as though she was stupid for missing the point. ‘You’re doubly qualified. It will save both time and money if you can come up with ideas on the spot.’
She eyed him guardedly. ‘And this is what you had in mind right from the offset?’
