Her Ruthless Italian Boss

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Her Ruthless Italian Boss Page 3

by Christina Hollis


  Luca was offended. ‘Of course not—what do you think I am?’

  I know exactly what you are—whatever you’re doing, you’re bound to be a workaholic, Beth thought. She watched him extract a phone from the pocket of his jeans. They were cut to perfection. Memories of his beautiful body had been haunting her since their first meeting in the executive lounge. Now they struck her low down, with a vengeance. Her temperature began to rise as she saw the fabric stretched tight around the tempting curve of his flank. Luckily, Luca was too busy with his call to notice the effect it was having on her.

  He looked over in Beth’s direction and smiled, but she had more sense than to think it was directed at her. It must have been the stream of words chattering from his handset that sparked his amusement. Beth could imagine what poor Andria felt like, being telephoned at home on office business.

  She turned away to make sure their call was private but, in a room as small as hers, it was impossible.

  ‘Ah, yes, you know me too well,’ she heard Luca say. ‘That’s why you’re my assistant, Andria.’ As he spoke he cast his eyes around Beth’s new flat. ‘Andria, I don’t see any signs that the firm has sent Beth a welcome basket—you know the sort of thing—flowers, a few basics like coffee and washing-up liquid, fruit, a guide to local attractions…’

  Luca finished his call. Beth turned to watch him put his phone back into his pocket again, although she was careful to keep her expression bland.

  ‘Andria is the best assistant I have ever had. That girl is a mind-reader.’ His satisfaction was obvious.

  ‘That isn’t quite as tricky as you might think, Luca. All it would take is for her to sacrifice everything for the sake of your career.’

  His smile evaporated. ‘Ah, so you still think you made the right decision in leaving me? Then you haven’t seen everything my hard work has brought me. Come on—I’ll show you now.’ Dragging out his phone again, he called up his pilot and arranged to be picked up. ‘He’ll be docking my launch in ten minutes,’ he informed Beth. ‘If you want to grab that bottle and the pizza, we can eat later.’

  Beth had to hurry to keep up with Luca as they left her apartment. His long strides led her beneath festoons of washing threaded over the back lanes. It had all been abandoned to the rain. That had stopped, but the laundry still dripped reminders of the deluge onto their heads. These alleys were hidden away, where the tourists did not visit. It was the dim, claustrophobic Venice only local people saw. Beth was glad when they reached the canal. She was even happier to recognise the smart new craft Luca had been driving earlier that day. He helped her in, his grasp firm and warm as his hand closed over hers. Beth tensed at his touch, but he let her go the moment she was safely on board. As their pilot steered them away from the mooring an argument broke out between a tenant of one of the waterside apartments and a boatman below. It resulted in a bucket of water being thrown out of an upstairs window, complete with vegetable peelings.

  Beth was not impressed, and wrinkled her nose. ‘I thought Venice was supposed to be more sophisticated than this.’

  ‘Winter is coming. Tempers get shorter as the nights get longer. But it is not always like this. You will soon grow to love the place, all year round.’

  ‘My contract with Francesco Fine Arts comes up for renewal in six months’ time.’

  He made no further comment and, hurt, Beth stayed silent until their launch swung around a gentle bend. Then she gasped, and Luca’s smile showed his satisfaction.

  ‘So you like my new house?’

  ‘That’s yours?’ Beth could hardly speak. Ahead of them, a beautiful creamy-pink palace rose out of the water. Despite the cloudy sky, its four storeys were still a shimmering reflection of grace and ageless beauty.

  ‘Oh, Luca…it’s wonderful…’ she breathed.

  His smile had an ironic twist. ‘She’s falling to bits. And sinking. It would be cheaper to have the whole place transported over to the mainland, stone by stone. There, we could at least use modern luxuries like solid foundations.’ He clicked his tongue. ‘I don’t know. This place eats money. I have to spend my working days stuck inside an office—the things I do to keep my family name alive.’

  Beth thought back to the one and only time Luca had taken her backpacking. He was born to be wild. It took imagination to see him enjoying life in a perfectly proportioned, stone and shuttered place like this, lovely though it was.

  ‘You kept very quiet about this grand family of yours when I knew you first, Luca.’

  ‘My background wasn’t important to me then. At that point there was no more than this old wreck to inherit. Besides, you were quite happy playing the part of a grand lady consorting with her “bit of rough”, back then.’

  The pilot tied up their launch. As Luca stepped off the boat he extended his hand to help Beth ashore. She hesitated, nervous of the effect of his touch, but she had no choice. As she suspected, when her fingers met his her body betrayed her and wanted more of what she couldn’t have.

  When they were both safely on the broad paved way in front of the palazzo, Luca dismissed his pilot with a smile. Now they were alone together. Beth could not stand the silence.

  ‘I really am sorry for what happened between us in Balacha, Luca,’ she said quietly.

  ‘I don’t doubt it.’

  He was studying the façade of his house in minute detail.

  ‘Can’t you look at me, Luca?’

  Dropping his gaze to her face, he looked at her with all the emotion of a professional poker player. ‘How’s that?’

  ‘I did a stupid thing back then. It was in the heat of the moment, because I was angry. Tristram was always there. You weren’t. Then one day it all got too much for me.’

  Eyes burning, she looked to him for sympathy, or at least understanding. She saw neither. Luca was listening to her, but his expression showed he simply no longer cared. My God, she thought, his hidden, gentle heart has turned to stone. I might as well be explaining the running order at an English gymkhana.

  ‘So…the way I treated you hasn’t affected you at all, Luca?’

  ‘It was a long time ago, Beth. I am over it now.’

  ‘Is that all you can say?’

  He heaved an exasperated sigh. ‘Opposites attract, Beth. You moved on when you discovered we did not differ quite as much as you thought. We both like to get our own way. It’s called inflexibility, and that is not a good ingredient in relationships. Or so I am told.’

  ‘And you honestly believe that?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said slowly, ‘I believe that.’

  She stared at him, staggered by his uncaring attitude. She did what she always did, and fell back on good manners.

  ‘I think—I think that as you have been kind enough to bring me here, Luca, I would like to see inside your home.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  LUCA led her towards his house without a word. This was another change in him. In the past, he used to laugh at her interest in bricks and mortar. Beth expected him to make some remark about her obsession with places and things, but he said nothing. As he wasn’t in the army any more, she supposed he could not argue about settling in one place. But this giant step into prestige property ownership must have stretched even Luca’s powers. Beth marvelled to see the great doors of the palazzo sweep apart before them, as though he had said ‘open sesame’. Efficient staff met them on the threshold. Two of them took charge of the pizza and wine Beth and Luca had brought back, while another whisked Beth’s jacket away. The palazzo was far too grand to have anything as simple as a coat-stand. Instead, her jacket was slipped onto a padded hanger and placed carefully inside an enormous mahogany closet.

  Whatever Beth felt about Luca’s silence faded the moment she stepped inside his house. Her first sight of his home knocked all the breath from her body. It really was a palace. Large winged lions topped each lintel, looking down on everyone with aristocratic scorn. Any surface that was not polished to a glass-like finish glittered with gol
d leaf. The entrance hall was high and wide, but Beth could hardly take it all in. She was too busy admiring the floor. It was a cold sea of marble, which gave the whole space an echoing, church-like feel. The grey-veined ground was inlaid with coloured geometric shapes of sienna and cypress, all worked into a beautiful repeating design.

  ‘The stone was brought here from many different quarries,’ Luca said, noticing her interest as he guided her past statues of his ancestors. ‘When I was at school in England, the boys would bring back souvenirs from their exotic foreign vacations. I was not lucky enough to have that sort of family. My guardians arranged for me to stay in the boarding house, even during holidays. To go anywhere more romantic than Windsor was unthinkable for me then. But now…’

  Hesitation was not usually part of his nature. Beth glanced at him. She had never seen wonder in his face before, but his expression came close to it now as he looked around his great vaulted hall, lavish with the art of Renaissance masters. Then he realised she was looking at him. In a flash he was back to his normal, decisive self.

  ‘This must be the ancient version of holiday keepsakes. A reminder of all the trading missions my ancestors made to far-flung places like Asia, Egypt and Greece. I am lucky to have the job of protecting it all for future generations.’

  ‘It sounds as though you really love this palazzo.’ Beth smiled at the pride in his voice. Luca shrugged his shoulders, but the action seemed more like someone who was adjusting to a heavy burden.

  ‘I am growing to like it. This building and all the people who have lived here in the past must not be forgotten. Tradition is important. To me it is vital, as I grew up without any sense of close family. This place is a treasure, so, even if I would rather spend my time out in the fresh air, I owe it to my ancestors to put the needs of their palazzo first.’

  ‘And the generations that will follow you?’ Beth suggested, but he did not seem to hear. Instead he sauntered on, through to an inner courtyard. Here, herringbone brickwork and cool colonnades surrounded a high stone font, richly carved with shields and heraldic lions. Everywhere showed the chips and scratches of centuries, giving it the beauty of experience.

  ‘When this house was built, the architects thought of everything. I even have my own well.’ Luca indicated the central stone structure.

  Beth stepped up onto its plinth and planted her hands on the gritty surface of the well’s wide stone lip. Leaning forward, she looked over the edge.

  ‘I can’t see the bottom. How deep is it?’

  Luca shrugged. ‘It was intended as a private water supply in times of siege, so it has to be deep enough to make it secure.’

  Inspired, Beth glanced at him again. This time she risked a smile.

  ‘Does it grant wishes?’

  Luca narrowed his eyes and gave her a look that was enough to melt any woman, and Beth was lost. Her heart hesitated, and then almost stopped as he raised one dark eyebrow.

  ‘Try it, and see,’ he murmured.

  She didn’t need to be told twice. Rapidly churning through the contents of her bag, she managed to find a single Euro and tossed it into the blackness. Luca watched with amusement as she craned over the edge, listening, and then smiled at her childlike excitement at the resulting ‘plop’.

  She caught him watching her, and sparkled.

  ‘I really hope it works, Luca.’

  A warm glow began to stroke over her body. It shimmered with tension, and she blushed. If he can read my mind I’m in trouble now, she thought breathlessly. Although not the sort of trouble I would want to avoid…

  ‘Oh, it does, Beth. In fact, that well works a lot harder than many people I know,’ he said, already starting off up a narrow stone stairway leading to the next floor. ‘No visitor can resist testing its powers by throwing in money, so we dredge it regularly. The coins we pull out help to pay the bills.’

  ‘Luca!’ Beth laughed, running to catch him up. ‘And you used to be so romantic!’

  His laughter echoed off the ancient walls. ‘Experience has taken its toll on me, cara.’

  Beth’s heart bounced again at the casual endearment. Then she caught sight of his expression. It was full of pride in ownership, nothing more. She should have known better. Luca never put his real feelings into words until it was far, far too late. Of all people, I should know that, she thought. Lost in memories, she hardly took in anything as Luca escorted her around a series of ever more stately apartments. She was so distracted when he merely waved a hand in the direction of his own rooms, she did not ask to see them. It was only when they reached a separate wing of the building she managed to rouse herself.

  ‘This is where the official tour ends,’ he said with some relief. ‘These final rooms have always been called Tiepolo’s bridal suite, as he is supposed to have been the last decorator.’

  Beth guessed Luca was trying to make a point by running down the work of such a grand artist, so she said nothing. Stepping past him, she went straight into the suite. It was dark in the reception area. The still air was heavy with the fragrance of lavender. She stopped, afraid of blundering into anything in the gloom. Luca strode straight past her and, one by one, opened all the pairs of tall shutters at the far side of the room. Watery evening sunshine streamed in and, despite all the other wonders she had seen, Beth gasped. She was stunned.

  For a few seconds, all she could do was walk around in a small circle, gazing at the high, graceful beauty of the apartment.

  ‘I thought the rest of your home was lovely, but this place is truly magical,’ she breathed, lost in wonder. The entire ceiling was decorated with exquisitely painted gods and goddesses billowing across pink and silver clouds. Every surface was transformed into heaven. Wandering on into the suite, Beth was glad the click of her stilettos was silenced here. It would have been an intrusion. Thick antique rugs softened the cold acreage of marble, and muffled the echoes that made the rest of the palazzo feel so formal and unwelcoming. All the carpeting here was in shades of rose and old gold. The softly upholstered chairs picked up these colours and everything was reflected in the highly polished sheen of ancient oak furniture.

  Beth walked from the reception area into the private apartments in a daze. At the heart of the suite stood an enormous bridal bed, canopied with gauze and lace hangings. These fell in sumptuous folds from somewhere near the ceiling, and she looked up to see how it was done. Then she began to have second thoughts about her dream apartment.

  ‘It’s awfully dark up there. Are you sure there aren’t any bats?’

  ‘Anyone would think you were afraid, Beth.’

  ‘No,’ she retorted nervously. ‘It’s just that…’

  He laughed. ‘Let me put your mind at rest. Though…I think electric light is too harsh for such a setting, don’t you?’

  Beth heard a rasping sound and light flared in the dusky gloom. It danced over a golden crown, suspended high among the ancient, smoke-blackened beams of the ceiling. She turned to see what Luca was doing. He had lit a candle. Setting it into a sconce on the wall, he took several more candles from a drawer and touched their wicks alight from the first flame. Shadows leapt up all around, moving softly through the evening light.

  ‘Your apartments are on the other side of the building where it’s so formal and cold, Luca. Why don’t you use these rooms instead? They feel much more friendly and welcoming,’ she asked as he went around the room fixing lights into more of the specially designed holders on the walls.

  ‘I don’t need places to be “friendly”. And, besides, why would I need a bridal suite?’ He paused and turned to look at her. ‘I am not cut out for marriage.’

  She had used that jibe on him in their distant past. Now her own words were being bounced back at her. Tears stung her eyes as she looked around the room. She soon spotted another good reason why Luca wouldn’t sleep here. It was decorated with dozens of cupids.

  ‘It was a silly question, I suppose. You aren’t one for all these baby dimples, that’s for sure.�


  ‘These are merely an artistic ideal, not a literal representation of what this room was expected to produce.’

  Beth swung around and gaped at him. That remark and its language were totally at odds with the Luca she had always known. What she saw now was equally amazing. He was looking over the wall paintings with the air of a true connoisseur, pointing out the quality to her with one expressive hand.

  Once she had got over the shock, Beth could not resist a sly dig at him.

  ‘Careful, Luca—you’re beginning to sound like my father!’

  He dropped his arm, and hooked a thumb into one of the belt loops of his jeans. Her sarcasm did not bother him at all. He put his head on one side, and looked at her with an expression close to pity.

  ‘I always take my responsibilities seriously, Beth. When I arrived here, my great-uncle’s art business was failing. I was not about to sit back and watch it die. Neither was I going to let my disappointment at having to leave the army blight the rest of my life. With plenty of spare time on my hands, I began to read. You saw the library here earlier.’

  Beth nodded. The palazzo’s reading rooms held more books than she had ever seen in one place at any one time.

  ‘With my great-uncle always on hand, I untangled the mysteries of art appreciation for myself. That meant I could combine new knowledge with my organisational skills, and propel Francesco Fine Arts into the twenty-first century. From there it was an easy move into international markets. I never waste my time, Beth. If I see something I want, I go for it. In this case, the project was to make a success of my family’s business.’

  ‘And there’s no doubt at all you’ve succeeded.’

  Beth thought back to the efficiency of his head office, the copy of Time magazine, and the priceless luxury in which he lived. She wandered over to a small side table, made of glistening yew wood. A pretty little porcelain dish sat on it. She picked it up, turning over the delicate, shell-like piece in her hands. Its base was marked with cobalt-blue crossed swords.

 

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