A Deal for Her Innocence

by Williams Cathy

  Two bright patches of hot colour had appeared in her cheeks. Her skin tingled as though she was standing too close to an open flame and, in response to those physical responses, she found herself clutching the briefcase ever harder.

  He was lounging against the doorframe with the door only partially open behind him.

  ‘Perhaps I could wait for you in your office,’ Ellie suggested. She stared at his face, because it seemed the safest place to rest her eyes—the other option being his barely clothed body—but he was so stunningly beautiful that he brought her out in a cold sweat. She desperately wanted to ignore his superior height and the powerful perfection of his muscular frame but it was like trying to ignore a tsunami.

  ‘Perhaps you could...’ Niccolo mused, eyes firmly focused on her heart-shaped face, which was awash with uncomfortable colour. ‘But no. I’m afraid not. I haven’t got enough time to spare.’ He straightened. ‘If the account means anything to your agency, then regrettably you’re going to have to get past your discomfort with my inappropriate behaviour and follow me.’ He grinned and raised his eyebrows, waiting for her response.

  ‘This—this is highly unconventional,’ Ellie stuttered in a last-ditch attempt to stay on the safe side of the partially opened door.

  ‘Stickler for convention?’ Niccolo asked, tilting his head to one side and allowing the silence to trickle between them like an electric current.

  ‘Yes.’ Ellie didn’t hesitate to set him straight on that score. If there was one thing her eternally unconventional parents had taught her, it was the value of convention.

  Niccolo laughed with genuine amusement. How old was she? Somewhere in her twenties, but she dressed like a woman in her fifties, and that prissy approach was more reminiscent of a granny laying down laws than a young woman working in the exciting, hot-shot world of advertising.

  The other contenders he had interviewed briefly for this assignment had been trendy to the point of wearisome. Hats, beards and wire-rimmed spectacles on the men and painfully cutting-edge outfits on the women. He didn’t think any of them would have been fazed at having to conduct their interview in a gym. He suspected that the women would have actively enjoyed the experience.

  This particular woman looked as though the experience was on a par with being locked in a room with a dangerous airborne virus.

  In a world that was largely predictable, Niccolo found that he was beginning to enjoy himself.

  ‘Well, at least you’re honest,’ he observed. ‘Although, I confess I’m not at my best when I’m around people who tether themselves to rules and regulations. I like people who can think out of the box.’

  ‘I’m a great believer in rules and regulations.’ Ellie’s mouth tightened, nostrils flaring as she breathed in the heady musk of his masculine scent. Her eyes were drawn to the V of his black tee shirt and then lingered. The tee shirt was tight enough to accentuate the hard width of his chest and the tapering slimness of his waist. She could glimpse some dark hair just where the V of the tee shirt ended, and it was so strangely and intensely masculine a sight that her breath hitched in her throat for a few shocking seconds, then she hurriedly looked away, heart hammering like a sledge hammer inside her chest.

  ‘But...’ she breathed deeply, steadying the sudden race of her pulses ‘...that’s not to say that I don’t think out of the box.’ She visibly relaxed as some of her wildly scattered thoughts began to cohere into the little rehearsed speech she had mentally prepared on her way to his office. ‘I’m excellent when it comes to creating the sort of dynamic a client is looking for in their advertising campaigns. In case you’re not aware of it, we might be a small firm, and relative newcomers to the scene, but we’re incredibly dynamic and as such we know how to connect with a young market. Social media in all its various forms is the prime tool when it comes to a successful pitch, and we pride ourselves on being top of the game in that area.’

  ‘Thank you for the spiel,’ Niccolo said politely, pushing himself away from the door. ‘But I still need to change. You can carry on trying to win my business while I freshen up.’ He swung round and carried on talking over his shoulder while Ellie followed on wobbly legs, eyes pinned to his back as he led the way into a spacious room, tiled from floor to ceiling in white-and-grey marble with two of the walls mirrored so that unfortunately her reflection was thrown back at her from every angle.

  Ellie did her best to ignore the sight of herself. She was five-foot-six but, even with her heels elevating her by a couple of inches, he still towered over her.

  A fleeting glimpse of their reflections in the daunting mirrored walls as they walked through the outer room made her heart sink.

  He’d said that he wasn’t at his best with people who ‘tether themselves to rules and regulations’. He’d made it sound as though anyone who wasn’t an out-and-out maverick was a crashing bore and of no interest.

  What must he think of her, in that case? She’d already pinned her colours to the mast when it came to rule-breaking and, if she hadn’t, then one look at her would have convinced him that she was just the sort of dreary, conventional bore he would never be at his best with.

  If he was the equivalent of a dangerous, wildly unpredictable and outrageously beautiful jungle cat, then she was the equivalent of the fearful sparrow sitting on the branch of a tree, making damned sure not to get too close.

  Her clothes were neat and, she knew, uninspiring. Her figure was likewise neat and uninspiring. She possessed neither the curves of the sex bomb nor the androgynous skinny chic of the model. She was just...slender. Her breasts had never been big enough, as far as she was concerned. Her shoulder-length hair, scraped back into a utilitarian chignon at the nape of her neck, was shiny and glossy but...brown. She had her own niche market of clients who were reassured by her competence and straightforward, intelligent approach, impressed by her careful meticulousness and charmed by the flashes of wit and verve she brought to all her campaigns. Niccolo Rossi wasn’t going to be one of these reassured, impressed or charmed clients.

  She was never going to win this contract. You really had to bond with the person on the opposite side of the fence when it came to winning a contract. You had to be singing from the same song sheet or else they would never trust that you would be able to perform in the manner they wanted. It was all a very subjective process.

  An unpredictable jungle cat and a little brown sparrow did not make natural bed partners.

  Already contemplating the prospect of failure, and trying to work out how it might impact on the fortunes of the agency, Ellie didn’t notice that they had exited the marble outer room and were now in the changing rooms, which were also tiled in marble, but unfortunately not quite so impersonal, because the bank of showers suggested, all too clearly, just how intimate the space was.

  She froze.

  The colour drained from her cheeks.

  She was still in her coat, and practically passing out from the heat, but too embarrassed to remove it in a place like this, which was specifically designed for the removal of clothing.

  Niccolo folded his arms and looked at her. Never had he seen a face so expressive of a rabbit suddenly staring into the harsh, bright glare of oncoming headlights.

  He marvelled that she worked in the cut-throat world of advertising at all and, more than that, was an active partner in the small but, he knew, talented advertising agency which she represented.

  ‘I would not normally be conducting business here,’ he felt constrained to tell her, even though it wasn’t in his nature to explain himself to anyone. ‘Unfortunately, I got into work much later than I normally do.’ He grimaced as he thought of the four delightful harridans laying into him the evening before. ‘Not your fault, I do realise, but I decided, once I got here that I had to hit the gym. Unfortunately, it happened to coincide with your appointment, which I should, in retrospect, have cancelled.’

  ‘No!’ Ellie was quick to respond. ‘It’s perfectly fine. A little unusual, of course,
but...’

  ‘But I’m a billionaire and your agency is desperate to get its hands on this assignment, so having to put up with inappropriate behaviour from the head of the company is a pill you’re willing to swallow for the greater good.’ He grinned, folded his arms and stared at her for a few moments, then he turned away and disappeared behind a wall. She could still hear him, though, just as she could hear the rush of water as the shower was turned on.

  Her twenty minutes were surely up, and she had shown him nothing of what she had done. But then, he’d probably made up his mind anyway, so wasn’t particularly interested in seeing her work.

  Frankly, she could leave right now, but it somehow seemed rude to slink away while his back was turned.

  While he was in the shower.

  Naked.

  Ellie suddenly found herself in the grip of a level of imagination she’d never known she possessed. She pictured him under the running water, lathering his big, powerful body with soap, face upturned. He wasn’t one of those metrosexual guys with spindly legs and hairless chests. He was aggressively, belligerently male and his dark, dangerous in-your-face sex appeal made her giddy and flustered.

  ‘You’ve gone silent on me,’ Niccolo drawled, emerging from the concealed cubicle, trousers on, lazily doing up the buttons on his shirt.

  Ellie blinked and then reddened as she recalled the graphic images of him that had sent her blood pressure soaring.

  He was decent, and for that she was immeasurably grateful. Grey trousers and a white shirt. Barefoot, though, and his hair was still damp from the shower.

  ‘Time’s not on your side, Ms Eleanor Wilson. In actual fact—’ he glanced at the expensive watch on his wrist ‘—your twenty minutes was up five minutes ago but, considering you didn’t cater for having to do your pitch in the company gym, I’m going to extend your time for a further half an hour. Think you’ll be able to do what you came here to do in that time? Provided you don’t spend any more of it staring at me. And, for God’s sake, take the coat off. The last thing I need is to waste my morning pandering to a damsel in distress who’s passed out because she’s overheated.’

  Ellie didn’t have time to say anything in response to this because he was already walking out of the changing rooms towards yet another door which she hadn’t noticed before. It led directly out to a comfortable wooden-floored room equipped with everything anyone might want after a gruelling workout.

  A refrigerated glass cooler held bottles of water and energy drinks, and fruit, energy bars and healthy protein snacks filled deep trays on a counter. No one was serving and it was obvious that the generous contents of the canteen were open to any employee choosing to use the gym.

  Niccolo grabbed a bottle of mineral water and proceeded to drink it in one long swallow.

  For a few seconds, Ellie was mesmerised by the brown column of his throat as he finished the water, then, galvanised into action, she whipped off the offending coat and quickly pulled out her tablet and all the documentation she had brought with her.

  If all she had was half an hour, then she was determined to stuff it as full as she possibly could with the mock-ups she had brought with her.

  ‘There are hard copies of everything,’ she began, remaining on her feet while he sat on one chair and dragged another towards him so that he could use it as a makeshift foot-rest. He relaxed back, hands linked loosely behind his head, and watched as she fumbled with the mound of paperwork she had brought with her. Her tablet was already up and running.

  She was the epitome of efficiency. The coat had been discarded to reveal an outfit as bland as he had expected. Now that she wasn’t having to try and evade the sight of him in a sweaty tee shirt and the loose jersey shorts he wore whenever he worked out in the gym, she had reverted to the brisk professional she undoubtedly was.

  Niccolo harked back to the delicately blushing cheeks and the awkward discomfort and thought it was a shame that she was morphing into just the sort of career woman he was so accustomed to dealing with. He’d quite liked the delicately blushing cheeks and the awkward discomfort. Professional, efficient career women were a dime a dozen. As were practised, seductive temptresses, and he should know, because he’d dated enough of them in the past.

  A woman who blushed, though, was as rare as hen’s teeth and Niccolo had enjoyed the sight.

  On cue, she was delivering her talk about the hotel complex that was to be the subject of the advertising campaign. She’d done her research very thoroughly indeed, that much was obvious. She seemed to know more about his own hotel complex than he did, but then this foray into the world of leisure was a departure from his usual conquests.

  His path to fame, glory and riches had started in the highly profitable maze of apps. He’d had a special talent for spotting the start-ups that were going to go stellar and he had known how and when to invest. He’d been a millionaire almost before leaving university with his first-class degree in computer engineering and maths. He’d turned that million into several more when he’d started acquiring ailing companies and spinning them into gold mines, and the millions had become billions as his reach had extended. But he’d never thought about the leisure industry until one of his sisters had mentioned something about how tough it could be finding the right life-partner.

  Niccolo didn’t believe in partners, right or otherwise. He believed in the purity of work. But he’d had experience from way back when of a match-making app that had taken off and he had spotted the chance to combine known territory with the interesting and as yet unexplored avenue of high-end hotels, and thereby add to his already considerable fortune. Why not? The fantasy of love wasn’t for him, for a number of reasons, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t exist, and he was very happy to provide the wherewithal for all those hopefuls in search of their happy-ever-after dream.

  Niccolo had had his future mapped out from the day his father had died. At the time, he had been only eight but, as his father had told him on his death bed, he was now the man of the house and would have to step up to the plate.

  Niccolo could not remember a time when he hadn’t been aware of the importance of working to make sure his family were taken care of. By the time he hit twenty-one, fresh out of Cambridge University, the family company had been on its last legs.

  The thorny business of wondering what direction to take with his life had never crossed his radar because he’d known from a kid where his destiny lay. Duty above all else. The mantra had lodged in his head in his dying father’s message. In one hand, he’d juggled with the demands of revamping his family business, while in the other he’d developed his breath-taking skills in the fast-moving world of technology, learning over time how to link the two. He’d grown up fast because he had moved straight from university life into the cut-throat world of the men in suits who ran the financial markets.

  Niccolo assumed that he had known innocent young women who blushed but, if he had, then it had been a long time ago. Now, with billions at his disposal and a social circle that included some of the most powerful movers and shakers on the planet, the women he met had left their blushing days a long time ago.

  He surfaced to find that he’d been staring at her from under lowered lashes. She’d reached the point of telling him the highlights of his hotel and he raised one hand to stop her in mid-flow.

  ‘But what about the sex angle?’

  ‘Sex angle?’

  ‘Don’t be coy, Ms Wilson. Tell me I haven’t wasted the past twenty-five minutes listening to you try and gear me up to an advertising campaign shot through a soft-focus lens?’ He stood up, and suddenly the vantage point she had had standing over him was lost. ‘Surely you must know what the purpose of my hotel complex is going to be?’

  ‘I thought it might work better to highlight the stupendous surroundings and the organic nature of the buildings. In this day and age, people are very much aware of the charm of a boutique resort that is in total harmony with nature.’

  She scrolled to
a shot of one of the two-bedroomed villas set a short distance from the beach, just part of the package that had been emailed to her the week before by the contact she had cultivated at the resort. ‘Hence the fact that all the wood used to build your hotel is locally sourced from the Caribbean.’

  She flicked down to another series of artfully shot photos of the Michelin-starred cuisine that would be on offer, but she was acutely conscious of Niccolo’s fabulous dark eyes resting lazily on her, with just the faintest hint of amusement.

  ‘I’ve also made something of the food and the fact that much of the produce is grown on the island, with some cultivated actually in the hotel compound, and that the yoga centre is genius.’

  ‘Yes, I’ve seen all the arty shots, but you’re not going to win the race by showing me pictures of sunsets and palm trees. I’m not planning on enticing poets to come to my resort, to spend their time staring off into the distance admiring the scenery and then writing sonnets about it.’ He raised both eyebrows sardonically and grinned. ‘So, once again...is this all you’ve got?’

  CHAPTER TWO

  THE ALLOTTED HALF-HOUR timespan, which under any other circumstances Niccolo would have rigidly adhered to, was galloping fast towards its end. With his bottle of water replenished, and protein bar only just managing to take the edge off his hunger pangs, he looked at Ellie, appreciating the slow crawl of colour tingeing her cheeks.

  Maybe he would be lenient and extend the stay of execution because he liked the way those big, hazel eyes were staring at him, sheepishly, faltering, yet with just an interesting hint of defiance. Also, her pitch might be ridiculously fuzzy round the edges, but the other pitches he’d seen had been way too suggestive in comparison. It wouldn’t hurt to hear her out.

  And she did have those big, hazel eyes.

  This was the first time Niccolo had ever taken any interest in any of the advertising campaigns for his companies. Normally, that was left to the experts in his Sales and Marketing department.