Italian Invader

by Jessica Steele

  Making contingency plans as she went, she made her way through Passport Control and Customs. She was on her way to the exit with her luggage, however, when it came to her to wonder if whoever had been delegated to meet her in Verona would have possibly put a call through with some message for her.

  She stopped and put down her case and her flight bag, pulling them close into her so no one should trip over them. Then she turned and looked about for an infor­mation desk, or maybe some likely-looking official who could direct her.

  Then suddenly, like music in her ears, a voice she would know anywhere, a voice that had, to her ears, a naturally seductive quality, said those magical words, 'Hello, Elyn.'

  In an instant she spun round, a peculiar sensation of delight making itself felt within her, while a smile she could do nothing about, and which started somewhere at the tips of her toes, lit her face. 'Oh, hello,' she said huskily, and stood there smiling like an idiot while sol­emnly, silently, Max Zappelli's gaze roved her fine com­plexion, lovely green eyes and exquisite mouth.

  Then, his gaze still on her beaming face, he stated quietly, 'You, Elyn Talbot, are very beautiful.'

  'Oh!' she exclaimed. His compliment was so unex­pected, she didn't know how to answer him.

  'Your smile of relief that you are not stranded lights up your beauty,' he explained, and in the next instant he was hefting up her case and flight bag and in­structing, 'Come—I am illegally parked.'

  Somewhat startled, Elyn chased after his striding figure. He was quite dishy himself, but she'd cut out her tongue before she'd let him know that thought. She was sitting beside him in his Ferrari, her luggage stowed, when she accepted that she must have been more strung up than she'd realised at the possibility of being stranded. The last time she'd seen Max Zappelli—only yesterday, in fact—she'd felt more like burying an axe in his head than grinning at him like a demented idiot.

  She watched as he expertly manoeuvred his car through the traffic, but it was some minutes later, as they stopped at a motorway tollgate, that she felt recovered enough to offer her thanks.

  'I appreciate you coming to meet me,' she offered pleasantly, and as he turned to glance at her, she added politely, 'Thank you.'

  He moved his eyes from her and started up his car again, and as they began to speed up the motorway, he explained, 'My home lies midway between Verona and Bergamo. I was on my way there when Felicita contacted me by car phone to say your flight had been switched to Bergamo airport.' He flicked a glance at her, but was still concentrating on his driving. 'I was almost halfway to Bergamo at that time,' he shrugged. 'I told her to recall the driver and that I would meet you myself.'

  'Well, thank you again,' Elyn murmured. She hadn't expected him to be the one to meet her at the airport in Verona anyway, so she couldn't understand why she should feel miffed that he had never planned to meet her. 'I hope I haven't inconvenienced you too much,' she added, with more good manners than a hundred per cent sincerity. This man suspected her of being a thief, for goodness' sake—why should she thank him for anything?

  'Not at all,' he replied suavely. 'My engagement this evening is not until much later.'

  Philandering swine! she muttered to herself, and gave her attention to looking out of the window. So much for bringing her snow-boots—there wasn't a scrap of snow!

  There was fog, though, and they hit it with a sud­denness which Elyn wasn't ready for. Max Zappelli was, though, she observed, and, whatever her mutinous thoughts against him, she had to admire the way he swiftly reacted to reduce their speed.

  She stayed quiet, however, and left him to give all his attention to getting them to Verona in one piece. Which, despite the fog, he managed to achieve in about an hour from the time they had left Bergamo.

  'Er—where will I be staying?' she enquired as he seemed to be driving towards the outskirts and not to­wards any central hotel area.

  'My apologies, Elyn,' he said at once, 'I should have told you,' and, rectifying that omission, 'We have a company apartment which we keep for visiting business people. I thought, or rather Felicita thought, that you would be happier there than in a hotel.'

  'That's very kind of y… of Felicita,' Elyn responded. Really, for someone who had doubts about her honesty, he was being rather good, taking heed of his PA's com­ments like that. It was the second time he'd called her by her first name too. Perhaps he wasn't such a bad sort after all, she found herself thinking.

  The company flat was in a smart area, with a front desk that was guarded by a stocky but well muscled man in his forties. 'Buona sera, signorina, buona sera, signore,' he greeted them respectfully.

  'Buona sera, Uberto,' Max Zappelli replied, and as Uberto immediately sprang into action and made as if to relieve him of her suitcase, her employer declined his offer, and in a flurry of what was to her totally incom­prehensible Italian appeared to give him some instruc­tions. Then, switching just as comfortably to English, 'Between them, Uberto, and Paolo during the day, will attend to your security here. There should be no problems with the apartment, but do not hesitate to contact either of them if you need assistance in any way.'

  'Thank you,' she murmured politely, and with a friendly smile to Uberto in passing, she went with her employer to the lift and travelled up with him to the third floor. 'I can carry my flight bag,' she suggested belatedly as he hefted her case out of the lift.

  Her suggestion was ignored, so she trailed after him until he reached a certain door in the hall, setting down her case, produced a key and unlocked the door, and held it open for her to precede him into what she quickly saw was quite a luxurious apartment.

  The hall and sitting-room at any rate were covered in thick-pile palest green carpet, and the quite large sitting-room was well and elegantly furnished.

  'You will be comfortable here?' Max Zappelli en­quired, following her in, his eyes watching as her glance went from occasional tables to pictures on the walls and to a most comfortable-looking three-piece suite.

  Her own home was elegant too. Her mother had ex­cellent taste and, let loose with some money after her marriage to Sam, she had gradually changed some of the furniture and furnishings to those more to her own taste. 'Yes,' Elyn answered all the same, 'I'm sure I shall,' and decided to check out the other rooms in the apartment later.

  He half turned as though to go, and oddly, she had the strangest impression that he somehow seemed re­luctant to leave. Which was just plain ridiculous. She might, purely from the newness of it all, not be too eager to be left on her own, but he, for goodness' sake, must be keen to get away. He'd got a date fixed for later that evening, he'd as good as said so—and he'd got to go through the fog again and get home and change yet.

  'Er—thank you once again for meeting me at the airport,' she said hurriedly, and knew, since some female was obviously waiting for him, that he considered he'd done all that he needed when, turning back to her, he passed the keys of the apartment to her. The touch of his hand send a frisson of electricity through her.

  'Goodnight, Elyn,' he bade her quietly.

  But she was still a little stunned from that unexpected tingle from the feel of his skin, and for the moment she could not find her tongue to offer him even the simplest of parting words. Had she been a little stunned before, however, she was quite enormously shaken when, leaning forward, he did no more than, albeit briefly, place a warm and yet more electrifying kiss on first one cheek and then the other—and suddenly Elyn was galvanised into action. Abruptly her hands came up and she pushed him away, while at the same time she took a hasty step backwards—and earned herself his amusement for her trouble.

  Naturally, she fumed, he just couldn't accept without comment that there might be some women who weren't falling over themselves for his kisses. Neither did he, but, as he rocked back on his heels, there was mockery in his eyes. 'Relax, frigid little virgin,' he began. 'I…'

  But Elyn was on edge, and swiftly, sharply—too swiftly, she afterwards realised—the words burst
from her in a gasp of surprise. 'How did you know?'

  'I…' He broke off, the mockery replaced by a look of incredulity. 'You're not?' he questioned.

  Elyn rapidly pulled herself together, and took another step back from him, her head coming up haughtily as she retorted with cold arrogance, 'That's none of your business!'

  Had she thought, though, that her uppity manner might result in him getting on his high horse and putting a swift end to this conversation, then she discovered that she couldn't have been more wrong. Because, as he started to look more incredulous than ever, he gave some short Italian exclamation and, unmoved by her arro­gance, 'You are!' he reverted to English to state in wonder.

  'If I am, I am!' she retorted, and before he could find a mocking answer to that, 'Thank you very much for meeting me at the airport,' she went on, and, talking straight on through the gentle-seeming smile that came over his face, 'but now, presuming you want me to be in the office for nine tomorrow, I'd like to set about unpacking.'

  She saw him check his smile, but didn't like the mocking grin that replaced it any better as he drawled, 'I do believe you are throwing me out of my own property.'

  'Goodnight, Mr Zappelli,' she said firmly, unsmiling.

  'Oh, goodnight, Miss Talbot,' he grinned, 'good­night,' and taking her none too gentle hint, he went.

  Philandering swine! Elyn fumed, though she was caught by a pang of loneliness once the door had closed after him. Moving from the sitting-room into an equally splendid bedroom, she decided it was no wonder she should have felt a tiny bit lonely. After all, here she was, alone in Italy, a foreign land, when not too many hours ago she had been in England, in her home where there was always someone there to talk to.

  She had got no further than hauling her suitcase on to the bed prior to starting to unpack it, though, before Max Zappelli was back in her thoughts again. Damn the man, he just wouldn't stay out! Diabolical philanderer, she dubbed him again: womanising came as second nature to him!

  Against that, though, hadn't he told her himself that he never dated any of his staff? Not that he'd asked her for a date or anything like that. But to salute her on both cheeks the way he had—when they weren't even friends—was a shade disconcerting, she had to own.

  When finally Elyn went to bed she confessed to being to some degree mixed up. She certainly had no time for philandering Romeos—yet here she was in Verona, lit­erally the heart of Romeo territory. And when at one time she had been certain that she hated Max Zappelli, she was confused about that too. But, as she closed her eyes and willed sleep to come, she admitted that she was still left wondering—was he philandering or, in bes­towing those electrifying kisses to her cheeks, was he merely being just a perfectly polite Italian?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Elyn awoke on Thursday determined she would take nothing at face value where Signor Maximilian Zappelli was concerned. His kisses on her cheeks in parting last night might well have been a mere courtesy, but from now on she would treat the philanderer with the utmost caution.

  She was in the middle of trying to dissect just why, when he thought her a thief, he should kiss her anyway, when she suddenly brought herself up short. Grief, she had far better things to do than to give him so much time in her head!

  In the next moment Elyn was out of bed. A minute after that and she was getting ready to start her day. She was dressed and ready and on the point of going down to Uberto, or Paolo, if he should be the one on duty, to seek help and directions for getting to her new place of work, when she received a call from Uberto over the apartment's internal speaker system.

  'Hello?' she offered.

  'Buon giorno, signorina,' he said, and there followed a whole stream of Italian which she had no hope of understanding. Though, while she accepted that she could well be wrong, she thought she had picked out a couple of words that sounded just like 'Signorina Rocca'.

  'Grazie,' she thanked him, using one of the very few Italian words she knew, and decided that since she had been going down to see Uberto anyway, she would go now and hopefully find out what the 'Signorina Rocca' had all been about.

  She was happy to discover that she had picked up the name of Max Zappelli's PA correctly; for as she stepped out of the lift, a dark-haired and very attractive woman of about thirty, after a quick word with Uberto who had obviously told her who she was, came away from his desk stretching out a hand. 'Buon giorno, Elyn,' she greeted her warmly, 'I'm Felicita,' and as they shook hands, 'You had a good flight?'

  'Apart from the fog.'

  'Ah, but today the fog is gone,' Felicita smiled, 'and we should be in our work on time.'

  'How kind of you to think to call in to give me a lift to the office,' Elyn thanked her, as they walked out of the building to where Felicita had her Fiat parked.

  The journey to Zappelli Internazionale did not take long, and Elyn again thought how kind Felicita was when, instead of leaving her at Reception for someone to come and claim her, she personally took her along to the section she would be working in. There were several people in the computer section, and Felicita introduced her around before coming to a halt by a bespectacled man of medium height who was in his early twenties. 'This is Tino Agosta, with whom you will be working. Tino,' she added, 'has excellent English.'

  'How do you do,' smiled Elyn, and as Felicita de­parted, she began her first day at Zappelli Internazionale.

  Tino, she soon learned, as well as speaking excellent English, was also something of a wizard on computers. It was eleven o'clock, though, when she was just getting the hang of something he was teaching her, that he sug­gested they break now for coffee.

  'I was just getting into that!' she exclaimed.

  'But I think we must now rest our eyes, Elyn,' he said solemnly, and Elyn argued no more, but went with him to the staff canteen, and, after a cup of the strongest coffee she had ever tasted, decided she would quench her thirst with something else tomorrow.

  When lunchtime arrived Elyn realised that if she was to return the compliment and pay for Tino's tea that afternoon the way he'd paid for her coffee that morning, she had better get herself to a bank.

  'Is there a bank near here,' she asked him.

  'I shall come with you,' he answered.

  'Oh, but your lunch?'

  'I can eat later,' he shrugged, and Elyn started to really like him.

  'I need to buy a few provisions—milk, bread,' she told him, and was grateful again to Tino when he went with her to help with her purchases. 'I'll be able to do this on my own next week,' she told him as they went back to Zappelli Internazionale and headed for the canteen for a quick something to eat.

  The afternoon sped by, with Tino enquiring a little anxiously as they prepared to bed the machinery for the night, 'I hope the day has not been too boring for you?'

  'I found it most absorbing,' Elyn assured him, and decided she thought Italian people were lovely when just then Felicita Rocca popped her head round the door and offered her a lift home. 'Do you have to pass the apartment to get to your own home?' Elyn asked her as they got into the Fiat.

  'No, but it is no trouble to come for you,' Felicita answered her, but at that Elyn closely watched the route they took. Tomorrow she would make her own way to the office.

  Felicita protested when she told her, but Elyn insisted. 'I like to walk,' she explained, 'and it will also give me a chance to get my bearings.'

  'If you are sure?' Felicita questioned.

  'I'm sure,' Elyn smiled, and thanking her, went inside the apartment building to see a man of similar age, shape and build to Uberto and similarly uniformed. 'Buona sera, Paolo,' she smiled pleasantly as she went by to the lift.

  She discovered he was as good at guessing correctly too, though her appalling Italian accent might have given away the fact that she was the new English resident, she realised when, favouring her with the widest grin im­aginable, he beamed, 'Buona sera, Signorina Talbot.'

  Having been with people all day, Elyn had only been ho
me an hour when she began to feel decidedly lonely. Don't be ridiculous! she told herself. It was only that everything was all so new. Once she got the feel of the place, she'd feel at home.

  Of course, she wasn't going to be here all that long, she mused, and somehow, at that thought, she began to feel more unsettled than ever. Grief, she wasn't that lonely that she was going off her head, was she? She'd met some really super Italian people today, but there was one whom she wouldn't mind if she never saw again.

  Not that she'd had much opportunity that day. If he'd been around, she certainly hadn't seen him. So-so much for her decision that she would treat Max Zappelli with the utmost caution in future—chance would be a fine thing!

  At that thought, though, her innate honesty popped out for an alarming airing. And suddenly she was rocked to her foundations. Heavens above, she reeled, for a moment there it had seemed every bit as though she was attracted to the wretched man, and was piqued that she hadn't seen him! As if it wasn't loneliness that unsettled her, but that she was unsettled, because of him!

  Ridiculous, said her head, totally ridiculous. Though when later Elyn went to bed, it was with the realisation that she had thought of little else but him all night.

  By morning, however, she was once more back on an even keel. Drat the man, it was more that she found it upsetting that anyone should think her dishonest that kept him in her thoughts than anything else.

  Elyn walked to work, and, to counteract any notion that she was in any way attracted to the head of Zappelli Internazionale, when Tino Agosta shyly asked her to have dinner with him that night, after barely any hesi­tation, she agreed.

  'I am delighted,' he smiled, and after a few minutes spent in discussing where they would eat, with Elyn giving him her address so he could call for her, they got down to some work.

  It was a busy but pleasant morning, and at lunchtime Elyn went out to stretch her legs, and found herself in a busy shopping area. She was window-gazing at one of the city's high-class stores, though, when who should come by but Felicita Rocca. They walked back to the office together.