Taming the Last AcostaItalian Boss, Proud Miss Prim

by Susan Stephens

  ‘Pain in the ass?’

  She stared at him and then laughed again. ‘For a moment there I thought you were offering me a job—’

  ‘Do you think I’m mad?’ he teased her, watching closely for a reaction. Then he told himself the idea of employing her was mad; a momentary lapse of judgement. Did he want a woman who cared so much around him?

  His phone rang, bringing these thoughts to an end.

  He had a brief conversation before cutting the line.

  He swung around, elated. ‘Now I could kiss you—’

  ‘Let’s not get carried away,’ she said awkwardly, losing no time putting the desk between them. ‘I don’t like to rush you, but my flight leaves at four o’ clock. You’ve had good news, I take it?’

  ‘The best—’

  * * *

  It must have been one heck of a deal, Katie concluded. ‘Congratulations—’

  ‘Congratulate the doctors, not me—’

  ‘The doctors?’

  ‘A friend of mine has had an operation,’ Rigo told her vaguely, ruffling his thick black hair. His glance was evasive and he gave her the impression that he thought he’d said too much already.

  ‘I hope your friend’s okay?’

  ‘The operation went really well, apparently.’

  ‘Then that’s the best news you could have.’

  ‘And it frees me to go to Tuscany right away.’

  ‘Don’t let me keep you. I can take a cab—’

  ‘I wouldn’t hear of it. I’ll arrange a driver—’

  And that would be the end of everything.

  Katie froze as Rigo continued chatting about flight schedules. He’d been equally matter-of-fact when they had returned from their amazing evening together, when she’d felt anything but matter-of-fact. She’d been frightened by the strength of her feelings for him—out of her depth and bewildered that feelings could be so one-sided. She had longed to return to her safe, quiet life in Yorkshire, but now the opportunity to do so had arrived she didn’t want the adventure to end. She wanted to stay until she knew the secret of Carlo’s will, because something told her the contents would hurt Rigo. She had to be there for him, because she cared for him, she cared for him desperately.

  There was an alternative, Katie’s inner voice suggested—if she was brave enough.

  ‘I could go back now,’ she blurted, clumsily interrupting him, ‘or...’

  ‘Or?’ Rigo echoed.

  Would her mind re-engage in time to speak with clarity, when all this man had to do to melt every bone in her body was to turn and give her that look? ‘Or I could come with you...’ By now she was hyperventilating to the point where she thought she might faint.

  ‘Come with me? I thought you couldn’t wait to leave Rome?’

  She would have to share at least part of her reason for wanting this, Katie realised. ‘Can I tell you the truth?’

  ‘I would expect nothing less of a lawyer,’ Rigo responded dryly.

  ‘I’m not even sure I’ll have a job when I get home. You see, my firm’s cutting back—’

  ‘A failing firm doesn’t mean you can’t get a job elsewhere.’

  ‘I’d take my chances,’ she agreed, ‘but I’m not sure I even want to be a lawyer.’

  Rigo’s brows shot up.

  ‘I get too involved,’ she explained. ‘Everyone has to constantly remind me I’m not a social worker and should concentrate on the facts—’

  ‘But you still care.’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘Is that something to be ashamed of?’

  ‘No, but it might mean I’m in the wrong job.’

  He laughed. It was a short, very masculine sound. ‘And you think you’d be happier working for me? I don’t think so, Signorina Bannister.’

  ‘Oh, well...’ Raising her arms a little, she dropped them to her sides. Of course Rigo didn’t want her working for him. He wanted someone slick and polished at his side. But a longing inside her stirred—a longing so strong she couldn’t ignore it. This might be her one chance to embrace change and adventure and, yes, see him sometimes. She drew a deep breath. ‘You can’t keep a PA—’

  ‘That’s true.’

  ‘I might not have the makings of a good lawyer, but I am incredibly organized.’

  ‘And you care too much about people—’

  ‘Not you,’ she quickly assured him.

  Pressing his hand against his chest, he gave her a mock-serious look. ‘Of course not.’

  ‘How about you take me on for a trial period?’

  ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘Absolutely.’ She held his gaze. ‘Your stepbrother has left you the family estate in Tuscany, but you haven’t been there since you were a boy and you don’t know what to expect when you get there. I could come with you and take notes—make suggestions. I have a passion for historical design—only a hobby,’ she added quickly, cheeks flushing, knowing she was the last person on earth Rigo would turn to for advice. ‘And I speak fluent Italian.’ Her trump card.

  ‘OK, OK,’ he said, halting the flow of her enthusiasm with raised hands. ‘Let’s stop this fantasy right now. Do you have any idea what the drop-out rate is for my staff?’

  ‘No, but I can imagine. Maybe you need an office manager too.’

  ‘Are you creating a role for yourself, Signorina Bannister?’

  ‘No, I’m identifying a need,’ Katie argued. ‘A mutual need.’ She bit her lip as she came to the crux of it all. ‘I need a change and you need a second string.’

  ‘A second string?’ Rigo’s face creased in his trademark smile, but his eyes were steadily assessing her. ‘Do you really think you can walk in here and, after five minutes’ exposure to my world, be ready to work alongside me and understand my business? I don’t think so—’

  ‘No, of course I don’t think that, but we’d both be new to this project—’

  ‘Tuscany is not a project,’ Rigo cut across her. ‘The Palazzo Farnese is the past and, though I loved it once, I intend to sell it on. There are too many unhappy memories—’

  ‘Good ones too—’

  ‘Leave it,’ he warned. ‘You don’t know me that well.’

  Katie braced herself. ‘But you are going to see it before you sell it on?’

  ‘I said so, didn’t I?’

  ‘That’s good.’ She believed it was crucial he did. She’d seen the mixture of emotions pass behind Rigo’s eyes when he realised Carlo had left him the palazzo—elation being one of them. ‘Remedial work might be necessary before the palazzo goes on the market. You should make time—’

  ‘Oh, should I?’ His gaze turned cold. ‘You’re an expert, suddenly?’

  No, but she knew one thing—Rigo mustn’t treat this bequest like a cold-blooded business deal or he would regret it all his life. She knew it would be a difficult pilgrimage for him to make and his look warned her to drop it, but she couldn’t; she’d gone too far. ‘I wouldn’t get in your way. I’d just be there to take notes—act as your go-between. I could even help you source people to handle any necessary restoration work. You wouldn’t have time for all that with all your other interests.’

  ‘You seem to know a lot about me, Signorina Bannister.’

  ‘I know you don’t have a PA right now.’

  Everything inside her tensed as Rigo went silent. The road out of her small town in Yorkshire was littered with returnees who had tried the big city and hurried back to the safety of home. Perhaps she should be doing that too, but she’d tried the big city—admittedly Rome with Rigo Ruggiero in it—and was in no hurry to return home.

  ‘And you’re telling me you can start immediately—without giving notice to anyone?’

  Yes, she was burning her bridges. ‘I have calle
d the office and warned them I might not be back right away.’

  ‘That’s not a very good recommendation to a prospective employer, is it?’ The look in Rigo’s eyes told her how crazy this idea was, but then he added, ‘I guess neither of us comes highly recommended where longevity of employment is concerned.’

  He appeared to be battling with a decision, while her hands had balled into fists, Katie realised, slowly releasing them. Where had this crazy idea sprung from? She had never come across anyone like Rigo Ruggiero before, she reminded herself. He was still thinking. She had to interpret that as a maybe and, having taken the first step, found the second was much easier. Better to get things out in the open now. ‘I do have one condition.’

  ‘You’re making conditions?’

  Rigo’s look pierced her confidence, but this was an all-important step in rebuilding her life. Yes, she was a small-town girl who was scarred comprehensively inside and out—and she should know her place—but retiring into the shadows would be a step back into the dark place she’d inhabited after the fire.

  ‘Go on,’ Rigo prompted impatiently.

  ‘If we stay over in Tuscany—’

  ‘I haven’t agreed to you coming with me yet.’

  ‘But you will,’ she said, crossing her fingers behind her back.

  ‘If we stay over?’ he prompted.

  ‘I’ll need a place to stay.’

  ‘Of course you will.’

  ‘A separate place to stay...’ Her face was growing hotter every second.

  ‘Separate from me, do you mean?’

  She heard the faint derision in his voice. ‘That is correct,’ she said tightly, feeling like that certain someone had come back to stand on her throat.

  Rigo barked a laugh. ‘Why?’ he demanded. ‘Don’t you trust yourself alone with me, Signorina Prim?’

  He was a busy man. Why was he making this hard for her? He needed a PA. And as he stared into Katie’s pale, passionate face, he knew he wanted her to go with him. ‘Well? What are you waiting for?’ he snapped, frowning impatiently. ‘Grab your bag, and let’s go.’

  * * *

  Katie hadn’t realised Rigo’s idea of a trip to Tuscany would include a sleek white executive jet, which he piloted into Pisa Airport. Scurrying alongside him as he strolled through the terminal building without any of the usual formalities was another eye-opener. Next he introduced her to what seemed like an acre of cream calfskin in the back of a limousine. His chauffeur did the rest, driving them seamlessly through the exquisite Tuscan countryside, while she felt her thigh ping with the proximity of Rigo’s thigh and fretted about sleeping arrangements.

  Was she mad suggesting this? Dull little Katie Bannister off on a jolly with her drop-dead-gorgeous boss? What surprised her even more was that Rigo had accepted her offer to work for him—temporarily, of course. And now he was sending her senses haywire. She risked a glance his way as the car swept round a bend.

  ‘Look, Katie...that palace on the hill is the Palazzo Farnese.’

  Katie looked, but what she saw did not match Rigo’s tone of voice. One of the ice-cream-cone-shaped towers looked as if it had been attacked with a battering ram, and to her eyes Rigo’s inheritance looked more like a fat toad squatting on the top of the hill than a fairy-tale palazzo.

  ‘It’s a jewel, isn’t it?’ he breathed.

  Katie hummed, trying not to sound too noncommittal. True, the hill the palazzo stood upon was lush and green, and had it been in good order the palazzo would indeed be set on the brow of that hill like a jewel. She set her imagination to work. It wasn’t so hard. In some places where the passage of time had been kind the ancient stone glowed a soft rose-pink in the late-afternoon sunlight, and there were tiny salt-white houses clustered around the crumbling walls. Yes, it could be called beautiful—if you squinted up your eyes and tried to picture how the palazzo might look after a world of renovation—but oh, my goodness, how would Rigo react when they finally arrived?

  ‘My family home...’ Rigo’s voice betrayed his excitement. ‘I haven’t been back for years...’

  And years and years, Katie thought, trying not to imagine Rigo’s disappointment when he moved past this nostalgia for a childhood that had ended with Carlo’s arrival on the scene. Strangely, though she had no emotional involvement with the palazzo, it called to her too. She was bewitched and could already picture the rooms, which she imagined to have high vaulted ceilings, when they were loved and cared for. She knew instinctively the palazzo was worth saving. Monuments to another time were rare and precious and she could never dismiss one out of hand. How she would love to take a hand in restoring it...

  And with her sensible head on she had an open ticket home if the job didn’t work out.

  Having driven up to the grounds, they entered through some ornate gates. A little shabby perhaps but that only added to their charm. They would need checking, of course, to make sure they were safe. She made a note. A gracious drive lay ahead of them, lined with stately sentinels of blue-green cypress. Well, at least those wouldn’t need trimming, she thought, noting the overgrown flower beds and thinking of the work needed there. As the limousine swept on she could see it was all very grand—or had been at one time. Crenellated battlements scraped a cloudless cobalt sky and each conical tower, damaged or not, wore a coronet of cloud. ‘It’s magical,’ she murmured.

  ‘Let’s hope so.’

  Rigo’s tone of voice suggested he had ditched the rose-

  coloured spectacles, and for that she was glad. And the setting was perfect. A limpid silver lake lay behind the palazzo, while the ghost of a formal garden could still be seen at the front amongst the weeds. To reach the main entrance they crossed a vast cobbled courtyard, which fortunately had survived intact, and as they passed beneath a stone arch she noticed a royal crest carved into the stone. Her heart juddered to see the same rampant lion engraved on Rigo’s father’s ring. That royal seal only put another wedge between them.

  Rigo saw her interest and dismissed it. ‘Everyone’s son’s a prince in Italy,’ he said. ‘Look on it as a benefit,’ he added dryly. ‘You can have a whole royal apartment to yourself.’

  She smiled thinly and gave a little laugh. That was what she’d wanted, wasn’t it?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ONCE UPON A time she had believed in fairy tales, but that was before the fire. She knew Rigo only wanted her for her organised mind with the same certainty she knew this visit would be a disappointment for him. She was in serious danger of falling in love with him, Katie realised as the chauffeur slowed the car.

  A group of uniformed staff was waiting for them at the top of the steps. They looked a little anxious, Katie thought, hoping Rigo would reassure them. Her heart was thundering as the limousine slowed to a halt. This was awful. She couldn’t bear to think of Rigo disappointed or the staff let down. From start to finish this whole business was proving more disturbing than she could possibly have dreamed.

  But Rigo seemed to have come to terms with the damage to the palazzo and put his disappointment behind him. ‘I’m home,’ he said, seizing hold of her hands.

  He quickly let them go.

  She followed him out of the car, registering more alarm now she could see how many twinkling windows were broken. She was still calculating the damage when she heard Rigo groan. Following his gaze, she felt like groaning too. A crowd of squealing fashionistas had started pouring out of the doors, pushing the hapless staff aside as they fought to be the first to greet Carlo’s brother. These must be Carlo’s friends, Katie realised, only now they were anxious to transfer their affections to Rigo.

  ‘Hold this, will you?’

  Thrusting a suitcase-sized handbag into Katie’s arms, one of the older, immaculately groomed women elbowed her way through the scrum to reach Rigo, who was handling everyone with charm and pat
ience, but as the woman reached his side and launched herself at him he frowned and turned around to look for Katie.

  ‘You should have waited for me,’ he said, coming immediately to her side. ‘And whose is this?’ he demanded. Removing the handbag from Katie’s grasp, he dumped it on the ground. Putting his arm around Katie’s shoulders, he shepherded her up the steps.

  It didn’t mean a thing, Katie told herself as her heart raced. Rigo was a very physical man for whom touching and embracing were second nature—a man who radiated command. Seeing her on the outside of the group had simply stirred his protective instincts.

  She stood by his side at the top of the steps as he gave an ultimatum. His Press office would issue a further statement, he said, and in the meantime he was sure everyone would respect his grief and go home.

  Smiles faded rapidly. People looked at each other. Then they looked at Katie and a buzz of comment swept through the group. Katie’s cheeks reddened as she imagined what everyone must be saying—it ran along the lines of, what was a man like Rigo Ruggiero doing with a woman like her? She didn’t have a clue either, if that helped them.

  Rigo didn’t appear to care what anyone thought, and chose to neither explain nor to excuse her presence.

  Everyone saw a different side of him, Katie realised, from the Press, who loved to photograph him, to the hangers-on, who hoped to gain something by being here. She had seen his fun side and wondered how many people had seen that. Right now he was all steel and unforgiving. And if she’d only stopped to think—if these people had only stopped to think—they would all have known that a playboy could never have built up the empire Rigo had. She was as guilty as they were of being distracted by his dazzling good looks and his charm, but she had learned that to underestimate him was a very dangerous pastime indeed.

  He went straight from this announcement to introduce himself to the staff and to reassure them. He insisted Katie accompany him for this and he introduced her as his assistant. No one seemed to think this the slightest bit odd and she received some friendly smiles.

  Rigo looked magnificent, Katie thought as he returned to the top of the steps to be sure his orders were being carried out to his satisfaction. A Roman general couldn’t have had better effect. Hope was already blossoming on the faces of his staff, and a very different look had come over the faces of Carlo’s friends.