‘Gianni! Look out!’
’Inferno, woman! Do you think I would risk an accident now? In my new car, I mean?’ he added quickly, before she could read any more temptation in his words.
Gianni was careful to drop her off at the nearest possible point to the first shop on her list. Ignoring all the blaring horns around them, he parked his car, got out and opened the passenger door for her.
‘How much would you like for a tip?’ she asked mischievously as she unfolded herself from the front seat.
‘I’ll let you have it on account.’
Meg’s heart almost stopped as she saw his watchful expression. When he caught up her hand and kissed it, she was speechless. If he hadn’t leapt straight back into his car and roared away, she would have thrown herself into his arms then and there. Breathless with amazement, she stood on the pavement and stared, long after his car had turned a corner and disappeared from view. An afternoon off to take her pick of clothes from some of the world’s most decadent shops was one thing. For Gianni to kiss her hand the same way he had done at Chelsea was a dream beyond anything Meg had ever imagined. She felt inches taller, and even began to look forward to her shopping expedition. The man was a miracle worker.
Meg usually looked on shopping as a torture. This was a different outing altogether. Today she was under Gianni’s instructions to buy something she really liked, while he picked up the bill. She usually bustled through crowds, head down and hurrying. Today she strolled, taking time to enjoy her afternoon off in the sun. The touch of his lips still tingled on her fingers. Only one tiny cloud lingered on her horizon. It was the thought of what embarrassments might lay in wait for her inside the beautiful shops she would be visiting.
It took her quite some time to pluck up the courage to put her hand to the door of the first boutique on her list. After that, things happened in such a blur she didn’t have time to lose her nerve. The door flew open as a tall, stick-thin woman decorated with twenty-four carat jewellery strode out. Meg was bundled aside in the rush but a voice from inside the shop was quick to apologise.
‘Miss Imsey?’
She looked up in amazement to see an exquisitely turned out Florentine matron holding the door open for her.
‘H-how did you know it was me?’ Meg stammered.
‘The Count di Castelfino himself rang to tell us to expect you. Now come inside out of this heat!’
Meg was made to feel at home instantly, despite all the designer labels. She was almost disappointed to find the perfect dress within minutes. It was a close fitting sheath of sky-blue moiré. Sleeveless and low cut with a matching jacket, it would make the most of her newly acquired tan. The assistant helped her choose an outrageously high pair of silk slingbacks to complement the outfit, and promised they would be dyed to match in time for Gianni’s party. Strutting through a gallery of full-length mirrors, Meg marvelled at her transformation. She felt like a million dollars, and the effect on her was obvious. She glowed. It was amazing—this outfit took pounds off her, and gave her so much confidence! She had never dreamed she could look so good. For the first time she revelled in her own reflection. Instead of seeing Gianni’s coming banquet as a terrifying ordeal, she actually began to look forward to the experience. Expansive with self-confidence, she cheerfully announced that she would take the dress and the shoes, which should all be charged to the Count di Castelfino’s account.
The manageress shook her head gravely.
‘Not yet, madam. I was instructed to ask how many shops you have visited so far before agreeing to sell you anything.’
‘This is the first,’ Meg answered honestly, but soon wished she hadn’t. A second assistant gently lifted the beautiful blue outfit from her hands and whisked it away to a back room.
‘Don’t worry. We’ll keep it safe for you. But knowing the new count, it is as well to follow his instructions to the letter.’
Meg could believe it. Her heart sank. All she wanted to do was get back to her little house on the Villa Castelfino estate. It was the only place in this foreign land she felt truly comfortable. She understood all there was to know about plants, but shopping was a mystery she’d never had enough money to investigate before. It was made only slightly less nerve-racking by the fact that Gianni would be paying.
‘Oh, no…does that mean I have to do this all over again, from top to bottom of the city?’ She stared at the sheet of paper Gianni had given her. Her face was as long as his list.
‘It may not be so bad, madam. Try to put a brave face on it,’ the assistant sympathised. Her words brought Meg straight back to her senses.
‘Good grief, to hear me talk anyone would think this was hard work! If all I’ve got to do to please him is to rifle through a few clothes racks, I’ll be finished in no time!’ she announced.
Things didn’t go quite according to Meg’s master plan. She swept in and out of the next shop at high speed, but as she progressed down the list each visit became longer, and more leisurely. Although she never found anything that suited her taste and Gianni’s instructions as perfectly as the blue sheath and jacket, she actually began to enjoy herself. All the shop assistants fawned around her as though she were royalty. She was offered drinks, sweets and snacks everywhere she went. Trying on clothes became a delight rather than a chore. She learned that rich fabrics needed to be enjoyed and lingered over, not pulled on and off at speed. When she got to the final establishment on her list, she was amazed to find it was a real wrench to leave. But at last, awash with coffee and stuffed with cantuccini, she returned to seal the deal on her ideal outfit.
She had arranged to meet Gianni near the Ponte Vecchio. He was already there, laughing into his mobile. The moment the weight of his gaze fell on her, he ended the call. Walking towards her with a smile, he pulled out his car keys.
‘You haven’t taken as long as I thought you would!’ His gaze ran over her, and Meg’s mouth went dry. The afternoon was so hot she’d been convinced her temperature couldn’t possibly climb any higher. She was wrong. He looked magnificent. The contrast between his olive colouring and the brilliant white shirts he favoured was one she always admired. Today she was in for an extra treat. Gianni had not only turned back his cuffs so they exposed his smooth tanned forearms, he had also taken off his tie, and there were enough buttons open at his neck to expose a dark shadow of hair. Meg’s pulse began to race away with her manners. It was all she could do to keep either under control.
‘Don’t worry, Gianni. I’ve got everything for the business banquet, exactly as you instructed. Thank you so much. And would you believe it—I got most of it only after I ended up back at the very first shop I visited! They’re going to deliver it as soon as all the alterations have been made. Now—let’s get back to the villa. I can’t wait to get home, kick off my shoes and—’
She stopped, painfully aware she was gabbling. Gianni raised his eyes to heaven and clicked his tongue.
‘Women! If they’re at home they want to be out shopping. If they’re out and about, they want to get back home! They’re all the same!’ he said in a voice full of Italian indulgence.
I’m not. How I’d love to linger here with you. Oh, if only you knew…Meg thought, but bit her tongue. It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last.
The days before Gianni’s first formal banquet passed in a whirl of preparations.
‘I knew I made the right decision in employing a female head gardener,’ he announced innocently as Meg knelt on a hearth, working at a flower arrangement. When he said that she sat back on her heels.
‘So you weren’t the man who threatened me with redundancy the moment I arrived?’ she mocked, without looking at him.
Gianni ignored her comment. He was too busy surveying the floral decorations draped around the summer dining hall. ‘I ask you—what man could have done this so beautifully?’
‘My great-great-grandfather and his contemporaries, for a start,’ Meg said, adding an extra spray of tiny orchid flo
wers to the display of lichen-and moss-encrusted logs set in the fireplace. She had designed everything, from the colour schemes to the hand-tied bouquets. It had given her so much pleasure. Gianni’s praise more than doubled her satisfaction, and she smiled as she put the finishing touches to the floral fire in the empty hearth. It was a sparkling mass of red and gold flowers, all cosseted in the perfect environment of the estate’s brand-new greenhouses. That was an extra source of pride for Meg. She had done it all herself.
‘Years ago floral art was part of every head gardener’s job description, no matter how tough and manly he was,’ she continued. ‘Going even further back, it was a prized skill among samurai swordsmen in Japan.’
‘I’d prefer geishas myself.’
‘I’m sure you would.’ Meg half turned to shoot the remark over her shoulder. The sight that met her eyes brought her up short. Although there was still some time to go before his guests were due to arrive, Gianni was already in full evening dress. He looked magnificent. Every inch the tenth generation aristocrat, he surveyed her work with pride. Meg couldn’t help staring up at him in barely concealed wonder. He grinned.
‘Flattering though your expression is, you don’t have time to crouch in the hearth, Cinderella! Your big moment starts in under an hour, and I want all my staff ready on time.’
Meg got to her feet slowly. It wasn’t often she had the chance to get so close to Gianni. She relished this rare excuse. Brushing the creases from her clothes added a few moments to her time in his presence. She was in no hurry to leave. He soon noticed.
‘I get the impression you aren’t looking forward to this.’
Meg made a face. Her mind had been full of all sorts of things but he had picked up on a particular worry. She decided there was nothing to lose by being frank.
‘I’m dreading it, to be perfectly honest.’
‘So am I.’
She stopped dead and stared at him, incredulous. There were only three other words this man was less likely to say, and they were I love you. His response had been so unexpected, she almost laughed.
‘But you’re the original socialite! How can you be dreading a party?’ she mocked. ‘I don’t believe it!’
Gianni was engrossed in removing a stray thread from his sleeve. When he heard the amusement in her voice he looked up.
‘This isn’t a party. This is work, Megan. To my mind the two things don’t go together at all. Once upon a time I could afford to relax. Now I’m responsible for the whole of the Castelfino estate and its employees, I can’t miss any opportunity to push the brand forward.’
He sounded so grim, Meg shivered.
‘Then thank goodness I have a job I love!’ she said with such feeling he laughed. The next moment he had closed the gap between them. Patting her shoulder, he gave a reassuring smile especially for her.
‘Don’t worry, Megan. It’ll be fine. You’ll see.’
Meg couldn’t share Gianni’s confidence. It took her no time at all to shower and change into her party clothes, but then her worries began in earnest. She dithered over which perfume to choose, and whether or not to wear lipstick. It was a classic case of putting off the moment when she would have to leave home. Only the memory of Gianni’s smile and his comforting words drew her out of her sanctuary. By the time she left her cottage the first vehicle was already visible in the distance, coming through the estate’s main gates.
’Bravissimo—you look stunning.’
A warmly welcome voice descended on Meg from above, making her jump.
‘Gianni!’
Looking up, she saw him leaning over the wrought-iron balustrade of an upstairs balcony. Her stomach leapt as she remembered what he had said about watching her from his window. The darkness behind him must be his bedroom. Still warm and fragrant from her shower, Meg’s body began fizzing with unusual excitement.
‘W-what are you doing up there?’ she said, trying to disguise the depth of her need to know.
‘Waiting for you to appear, of course. Another ten seconds, and I would have sent out a search party.’
His admiring look made her bold.
‘You’re such a devoted employer, Gianni, I thought you’d be only too keen to take on the job yourself.’
He wrinkled his nose in disdain at the idea. ‘No, certainly not. Any visit to Garden Cottage would deserve time I don’t have at the moment. If I undertake a task, I follow it right through to the end.’
His voice was slow and deep with meaning. Until that moment Meg had been convinced her desire for him would never be allowed to come to anything. Now she saw her destiny. It was written in his eyes, and her temperature went off the scale. Only one thing would satisfy her now, and he knew. She saw it in his stance and his confident attitude. He was totally at home, and at ease with himself. It was the best aphrodisiac Meg could wish for.
A hot breeze rustled among the ornamental bamboos. It carried the sound of expensive engines prowling closer by the second.
‘I—I must get to my place in the greenhouse.’ She backed away towards the kitchen garden, wanting to keep eye contact with him until the last possible moment. His lips parted in the famous Bellini smile, an inheritance that surely must have spelled disaster for dozens of girls.
‘Don’t worry, mio dolce,’ he said with leisurely confidence. ‘I won’t be starting without you.’
Chapter Five
MEG had been on pins all day. It was her job to show Gianni’s guests around the restored kitchen garden and the new greenhouses, before the banquet. How to keep calm among dozens of wealthy and glamorous guests was the last thing on her mind now. As she waited to welcome the first visitors into her workplace, her mind was feverish with possibilities. Other aristocrats and billionaires meant nothing to her. All she could think about was their host.
While she was stuck out here in the grounds, Gianni was inside greeting his guests. He was within forty metres of her, but she wouldn’t be able to catch so much as a glimpse of him yet. She shut her eyes and imagined what was going on inside the house. Every inch the rich, pampered playboy, Gianni would be charming everyone. She knew exactly how he would look, the warmth of those fathomless dark eyes, the perfection of his skin, and the contrast with his even white teeth. Her body lurched with desire for him, and her eyes flew open with the sensation.
In desperation she tried to focus on the ordeal ahead. All the time she was counting down the seconds until she could see Gianni again. She already knew the dining hall’s seating plan off by heart. She had been placed opposite him, and between two of the most important local businessmen. It was her job, along with all the other heads of department employed by the Castelfino estate, to persuade them to join Gianni’s local suppliers’ scheme. He would be working his own particular brand of magic on two other dignitaries on the other side of the table. One of them was a Signora Ricci. Without knowing a thing about the woman, Meg’s instinct was to hate her. To deserve an invitation to Gianni’s stellar event the woman had to be rich and well connected. What if she was beautiful and charming as well? Already green with jealousy, Meg retreated to the place where she felt safest. Roaming restlessly through the glasshouses, she checked her watch. There was an hour to wait until they were summoned in to dinner. Meg didn’t know how she was going to stand the suspense.
She need not have worried. When the first visitors straggled in through the gate to her kitchen garden, pride overwhelmed her. She was so busy trying to give everyone a glowing account of the work in progress the time flew past. It was in everyone’s interests that the evening went well. Gianni had a lot of money riding on the result. Meg’s job might well be at stake too, and she was determined to make a success of her life. She didn’t intend disappointing herself, or anyone else.
To her relief, no one shared Gianni’s opinion of greenhouses as an expensive, outdated luxury. Not one of them mentioned the words ’carbon footprint’. They all loved the exotic displays she had built and the luxurious feeling of walking through
a rainforest. Meg felt vindicated, and relieved. When the time came to shepherd the last few guests in towards dinner, she had an extra reason for needing to see Gianni. She couldn’t wait to tell him how well everything had gone. The hot summer evening and that vision of him on his balcony had sent all her fears of making another mistake into a black hole of desire. Her body now hungered for him more than any food. She was glowing with arousal as well as success.
The ground floor of the villa teemed with hundreds of people. Meg scanned the crowds, searching for that one unmistakeable figure. When she saw him, she smiled with recognition at the image. He was working the room, and looked effortlessly impressive. Uniformed waiters moved smoothly through the crowds, ensuring the champagne flowed like water. Huge silver salvers of canapés were circulating, and no one was allowed to stand around empty-handed. Gianni was the most generous host, and his famous charm kept the party mood buoyant. Meg had all of five seconds to watch him doing what he did best before her ordeal began. The dinner gong sounded, and the waiters began showing everyone towards the lofty splendour of the summer dining room. Although everyone smiled at her and many men gestured for her to go ahead of them, Meg shook her head. She hung back, careful to let all the grand guests go in to dinner before her.
Suddenly Gianni was at her side. ‘What’s the matter?’
It was such a relief to stop smiling for the guests, Meg couldn’t help letting her true feelings show.
‘I feel so awkward! I don’t know anyone!’ she muttered. He dismissed her attitude with a wave of his hand.
‘You know me, and that’s all that matters.’
He flipped the edges of his jacket, momentarily showing off his expertly fitted waistcoat and snowy white shirt beneath. Meg’s heart jumped. All the polite, charming and witty things she had been planning to say to him fled from her mind. She was left gazing at him in wonder. His crisp shirt accentuated the fine colour of his skin and the darkness of his eyes. He smiled at her, showing his beautifully white, even teeth. Meg felt a tingle of anticipation. Then with a jolt she saw she wasn’t the only one. Behind Gianni’s politely formal expression she sensed something very different. It was raw, naked desire. Her senses spun out of control. Suddenly she wanted to stride forward, push her fingers through his unruly tousle of curls and experience his kisses again, no questions asked.
The Count of Castelfino Page 7