Summer Romance with the Italian Tycoon

by Jessica Gilmore

  ‘My sister is coming to stay next week,’ Dante said abruptly and Maddie glanced at him, sensing that the reason for this unexpected walk might become clear.

  ‘That’s nice.’ Sometimes banalities were the best thing to fall back on. That she had learned at finishing school; Small Talk for Beginners.

  His mouth quirked into a half-smile and Maddie’s heart gave a skip. ‘Si. We are close, Luciana and I. She...’ He paused. ‘She worries about me. About Arianna.’

  ‘Oh?’ Maddie’s mind raced. She knew little about her employer, but she had heard that he was a widower, that his young, beautiful actress wife had died tragically in a car crash on the sometimes treacherous road down to Milan. There was some kind of mystery, a hint of scandal, but she had never enquired further. She knew all too well how easily rumours could start, how things could be misrepresented.

  ‘She thinks I need a partner, that Arianna needs a mother. She has many friends who she considers suitable.’

  ‘She would get on very well with my mother. She is always sending me details of potential husbands.’ It had taken less than a month since Maddie had walked away from the altar unwed for her mother to suggest a new groom.

  ‘Luciana is under the impression that I am in a relationship. A romantic relationship,’ he clarified, his brows drawing across his forehead as he spoke.

  ‘Under the impression?’ Maddie couldn’t stop the grin spreading across her face. ‘How did that happen?’

  Dante drew himself up, the very epitome of dignity—if it wasn’t for the guilty expression in his eyes, rather like that of a small boy caught out in mischief. ‘I may have told her a small falsehood,’ he admitted and Maddie’s grin widened. ‘For the best of reasons. It made her happy to think I was dating and it stopped her trying to set me up with her friends. It seemed like a good idea at the time to invent a short-term relationship that would end amicably in a few months’ time.’

  Why on earth was he telling her this? ‘But now she’s coming to visit? That’s awkward. Could you pretend that your mystery girlfriend has had to go away on business? Or maybe she just dumped you?’

  ‘She dumped me?’ Dante couldn’t have sounded more outraged if they had been discussing a real relationship.

  ‘Of course, otherwise there’s no reason for your sister not to keep setting you up. Pretend you’re nursing a broken heart and you need some time to regroup.’ Judging by the confusion in Dante’s eyes he didn’t often get teased. It was nice to turn the tables on him.

  ‘The problem is...’ He took a deep breath and apprehension curled Maddie’s stomach as he turned to her, pride, embarrassment and an indefinable heat that Maddie could feel in every nerve ending in his gaze. ‘The problem is, she’s under the impression that I am in a relationship with you. So, Maddie Fitzroy. I was hoping that you might do me a favour and pretend to be my girlfriend for the next few weeks. A young lady with your birth and education should be able to carry it off perfectly. What do you say?’

  Her birth? Her education? Not Maddie herself, but her genes. Again. Would she ever get to be just Maddie? She tilted her head, every inch the Honourable once again. ‘I’m sorry, signor, but I am afraid what you’re asking is impossible.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Why? You must see that it’s out of the question!’

  ‘Not at all. I’ve told her that the relationship is in its early stages, so she won’t be expecting an established couple. She’s only spending a week here before going to see our mother in Lucerne. We will say that you’re very busy with your work. That way you have a perfect excuse not to spend too much time with us—and when it’s unavoidable I’m sure you will manage admirably. You have the necessary qualities to cope.’

  The necessary qualities? No matter where she ran, was she always going to be seen as nothing more than a convenient consort? No, worse; here she was nothing more than an imaginary convenient consort.

  ‘How kind of you to say so,’ she said, every word bitten off as coldly as she could manage. ‘But I’m afraid I must still decline your offer. I have to get back to work now. It’s been...’ She paused, searching for the right word. ‘It’s been interesting talking to you. Goodbye.’

  As Maddie turned and stalked away, she was conscious of another emotion trying to dig its way through her indignation. Disappointment.

  The Conte discombobulated her; she wasn’t sure she liked him at all. But she was drawn to him on some primal level, in a way she had never experienced before. Maddie hadn’t known what to expect from their walk, but a small part of her had thrilled to the heat she had sensed between them, had wanted to discover more.

  But it looked as if she had imagined the heat. That the only attraction she had for the Conte was through her name and her convenient background. It was an all too familiar story. But this time she was saying no.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  HE HAD ONE day to come up with a plan—and so far he had nothing.

  Dante swivelled and looked at his great-great-grandfather’s portrait for inspiration. None was forthcoming. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe it was time for Dante to have a long overdue discussion with his sister. To tell her the truth.

  His chest tightened. It wasn’t just that he didn’t want to upset her, for her to know he had deceived her. It wasn’t even that it was easier to bury every feeling apart from his love and protectiveness for Arianna, rather than face the mess he had made of his life and marriage. It was knowing how vulnerable confiding the truth to his sister would make him.

  She knew some of it. Knew Violetta had been unhappy. Knew she had cheated on him. Knew he blamed himself for throwing his energies into work rather than repairing his tattered marriage. But she didn’t know how he had been duped. Didn’t know that Violetta had never loved him. Didn’t know that he had loved a phantom.

  A marriage gone wrong was a tragedy. A marriage based on deceit was nothing but a sick joke and he the fool at the centre. Five years later it still haunted him, the knowledge of how easily—how willingly—he had been duped.

  He stilled as he heard footsteps approaching the door. Nobody visited the old picture gallery; it wasn’t part of the publicly accessible part of the castle. That was why he came here to think—he could always count on being alone.

  The handle turned, the door opened—and Maddie stood in the entrance, her face mirroring the shock he was sure was on his, before she concealed it with a polite smile.

  Dante was getting very used to that particularly polite expression. It wasn’t blank, more a carefully smooth look, the kind which could take the user from a hospital visit to a diplomatic lunch without causing offence to anyone. It served her well; he’d seen it employed to calm a drunkenly belligerent wedding guest, to soothe a chef when she’d informed him of three unexpected food intolerances which threatened to destroy a planned menu.

  And she used it with him, every time they inadvertently met. It was different from the open, sunny smile she greeted her co-workers with, different from the affectionate, almost conspiratorial grin she shared with Arianna, who seemed to have latched on to her.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Maddie said, every bit the professional. Her dress was spotless and cool-looking despite the advancing hour and the heat of the day, not a hair in her neat chignon out of place, her make-up discreet and fresh. ‘I didn’t realise anyone would be in here. I’ll come back later...’

  She took a step backwards, her hand on the door. It would be easier to let her walk away, to continue to brood alone, but Dante halted her. ‘Don’t leave on my account. What do you need in here?’

  ‘Oh, well, one of my brides wants to dress in a historically accurate way, but doesn’t know where to start. I offered to send her some pictures of the past Contessas to give her inspiration. I did warn her that there are a lot of different styles, but she doesn’t know if she wants renaissance or reunification so I’ll need to photo
a selection.’ She raised the small camera she held as if proving her words.

  ‘Come in. Take your photographs.’

  After a quick glance at him, Maddie stepped warily into the room. ‘Thank you. I won’t be long.’

  Dante nodded and resumed his study of his great-great-grandfather but all his concentration had disappeared; instead he was keenly aware of every step Maddie took. Aware of the way she sized up the pictures, the focus on her face as she photographed the suitable ones, the swiftly hidden amusement at some of the more outlandish dresses. And he knew the exact moment she stopped in front of the portrait of Violetta he had commissioned for their wedding.

  ‘She was beautiful, yes?’ he said, not looking at either Maddie or the portrait.

  ‘Very.’ She paused. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t help with your sister. Have you come up with a solution?’

  ‘Not yet.’ Dante took a deep breath as he turned and looked at Maddie—and at the portrait. The two women couldn’t have been more different, Violetta dark, her lush curves poured into a designer ball gown, her eyes proud, smile mocking, a stark contrast to Maddie’s blonde slenderness and neat, efficient look. ‘I’m sure I’ll think of something.’

  ‘Of course. I’m sure you will.’ Maddie turned away, heading back to the door before stopping and swivelling to look back at him. ‘It’s just... I can’t help wondering why you lied to her in the first place. I get that you’re close, that you don’t want her to worry, but why does she care so much? I want my brother to be happy, of course I do, but I wouldn’t fuss him to the stage where he started propositioning random employees to lie to me and pretend they were in a relationship.’

  Put like that, the whole scheme did sound a little insane—if you didn’t know Luciana, that was.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Maddie said quickly. ‘As I said, really it’s none of my business.’

  But it was. Dante had made it her business when he had tried to involve her. And no matter what he told Luciana tomorrow, when she arrived at the castello and met Maddie her curiosity would be piqued. The name and description were a perfect match after all. Luciana would be bound to wonder why Dante had chosen this particular woman as the model for his pretend girlfriend, would be bound to come up with all kinds of crazy theories.

  And they would be crazy. Wouldn’t they?

  Dante looked over at Maddie, cool and poised, her calm gaze fixed on him as she waited for an answer. Maddie was very attractive, of course. They had only just met. That was why she had been the first person to come to mind; there was no more to his choice than that.

  He could see Luciana’s mocking look as she took apart that explanation all too clearly. He was going to have to come up with a better reason than that.

  ‘My sister introduced me to Violetta.’ Dante saw the moment Maddie’s glance flew to the portrait, watched her eyes soften, and he winced.

  ‘I see.’

  But of course she didn’t. She probably believed, as so many others did, that his heart had died with his wife. That the reason he hadn’t dated again, was still single five years later, was that no one could replace the beautiful young Contessa.

  For some reason he didn’t want Maddie to believe that. The truth might be uglier but it was real. ‘I was only twenty-two.’ It was like talking about someone else; Dante didn’t even remember that carefree boy with the world at his feet. ‘My father had recently died and I had inherited the title and half the family business. It was a lot to take on—and Luciana was about to move to New Zealand with her husband to help run his winery. My mother had already left for Switzerland and so all the family fortune was in my inexperienced hands. Luciana was worried about leaving me, insisted on spending all the time she had left in Italy with me—and that’s when I met Violetta.’

  He stepped closer to the portrait and gazed up at his wife, memories flooding him as he tried to sort out the truth from the fictions—the fictions she had woven, fictions he’d willingly believed. ‘She was several years older than me—our paths would probably never have crossed if it weren’t for Luciana. But when they did...’ He closed his eyes briefly. ‘Violetta got pregnant very quickly. It wasn’t planned, but of course I offered to marry her.’ It wasn’t just an offer; he’d jumped at the opportunity. It wasn’t until much later that he’d begun to wonder just how much of an accident the pregnancy had been.

  ‘We didn’t know each other very well, not in all the ways a husband and wife should know each other before they make their vows. The truth is it wasn’t a very successful marriage.’ Dante winced at the understatement of the century. ‘Apart from Arianna, of course. I can’t—I don’t—regret anything that resulted in my daughter; Luciana knows this. She feels responsible and nothing I say changes that.’

  Maddie took another step forward, until she was almost close enough to touch, close enough so that Dante could see the concern in her grey eyes. ‘But I still don’t understand why you need to pretend to be in a relationship—with me or anyone. I mean, you’re tall, dark and not too horrendous to look at. You seem to have all your own teeth—and what have I forgotten? Oh, yes, you’re rich, titled and own a castle; you’re a great dad. Surely nice, compatible women must be queuing up around the block. If you’re not still in love with your wife then what is stopping you from dating any of those women? You’d get your sister off your back and have some fun while you’re at it. Why go to all this subterfuge?’

  ‘I drove my wife away. That’s why she died. Arianna is without a mother because of me and she has to come first. I have no time and no inclination to pursue any kind of relationship.’ Dante snapped his mouth closed. He’d said too much. He swallowed, moderating his tone with some effort. ‘My sister has been unwell. I didn’t want her upsetting herself further about me or Arianna. But it was wrong of me to lie, wrong of me to drag you into it. Please accept my apologies.’

  * * *

  Maddie looked up at the portrait again. Violetta Falcone had been a stunning woman, all fire and passion and pride. No wonder the Conte had fallen so hard for her. And how could she fault him for lying to make his sister happy? Maddie understood all about family pressure; after all, she had spent so much of her life trying to make her parents happy, to get their approval.

  She’d finally realised that nothing that fulfilled her would satisfy them, that they couldn’t see past their own small, narrow world and wanted her contained within it. Dante’s lies came from love. How could she fault him for that? All she had ever wanted was unconditional love. It had taken almost marrying a man who didn’t love her for her to realise that.

  Dante wasn’t asking for a lifetime. He wanted a mere week.

  And would a week with him be such a terrible thing?

  She slid a glance his way. His lips were pressed together, expression shuttered, as if he hadn’t just confided in her in a way she suspected the proud Conte seldom confided in anyone. Her stomach tumbled as she took him in. The expanse of olive skin exposed at his throat, the sharp cheekbones, the sensuous curve of his mouth. Maddie swallowed, desire pulsing through her. No. Spending more time with Dante Falcone wouldn’t be that terrible at all.

  She had told herself that she would never be anyone’s convenient relationship again. But the Conte needed her. Maybe not physically or emotionally, but he still needed her. And she needed to step out of her hiding place sooner rather than later. Out of her comfort zone. To confront her fears—and her desire.

  Maddie took a deep breath. ‘A plane ticket.’ To her surprise her voice was strong, even though she quivered at the thought of the deal she was about to propose.

  Dante’s brows shot up.

  ‘And overtime. Double time for any time I spend with you and your sister. But no one here must know what we are doing. I don’t want any gossip or speculation and it wouldn’t be fair for your daughter to think we were dating. So you need to tell your sister that we are keeping things quiet
for now because we are seeing where things are going. Those are my terms.’ Maddie’s heart hammered as she spoke. What on earth was she doing? Could she really handle a week in Dante Falcone’s company?

  ‘Why have you changed your mind?’ His glance was sharp, penetrating, as if he could see straight through her, to that pathetic need to be wanted, to be needed.

  Maddie straightened her shoulders. This was different. He did need her—which meant she held all the cards. ‘Because I realised that this could be a mutually beneficial deal. And because, although I don’t think you should have lied to your sister, I understand why you did. Your motives were good.’

  ‘She arrives tomorrow.’

  ‘Then we’d better get our stories straight—if my terms are acceptable.’

  ‘Very acceptable.’ He held out his hand and, after an infinitesimal pause, Maddie took it. His fingers closed around hers, strong and sure, his touch scalding through her body.

  Did she really believe she held all the cards? Suddenly she wasn’t so sure. ‘Good. That’s decided.’ She stepped back, her hand cold, empty as she loosened it from his. ‘What next?’

  ‘Next we need to get our stories straight, to decide on how we met, what we were wearing, what we spoke about—believe me, we must have every detail agreed; there is nothing so small my sister won’t want to know.’

  The enormity of what she had agreed to shivered through her. This wasn’t just about having a few friendly chats with Dante’s sister. This was about pretending to be falling in love. Something she knew nothing about. ‘Then we had better schedule a meeting.’ The businesslike term was reassuring. She could do business.