Taming the Last AcostaItalian Boss, Proud Miss Prim

by Susan Stephens

  There had been one short interlude when she had found an outlet for her passion in training to be an opera singer. Music had given her a means of expression until the fire stole her voice away. She had never thought to experience passion again until Rigo proved her wrong. And now she was at another crossroads, Katie realised. She could go back to Yorkshire and pick up her old life, or she could stay on in Italy as Rigo’s PA.

  When she had buried her face in the hospital pillows and cried the first time she saw the scars on her back the doctors had told her she would have to be brave. Take it one step at a time, they had advised. Life was a series of steps, she had discovered since then. You could take them bravely, or you could refuse to take them at all.

  So the past had got the better of her?

  She wouldn’t let it.

  * * *

  Twenty minutes after leaving Katie at the pool, he was tapping a pen on the table, wondering if she was going to turn up—and if she did, was he about to make the biggest mistake of his life? He hadn’t imagined taking Katie out of her comfort zone would throw her so badly. Forget the sex—that was never going to happen. But where the job was concerned he had to know if she was up to working alongside him in Italy.

  The door opened and he put down his pen as she walked in.

  ‘I know this is a business meeting,’ she said when his face registered surprise, ‘but I thought—if we needed to scramble round the building...’

  His surprise that she had come at all was instantly replaced by relief and admiration. It took some guts to climb back to a position of composure and responsibility when you had lowered your guard to the point where you appeared a gibbering wreck. ‘Sensible outfit,’ he agreed, wishing she wouldn’t always wear everything so big.

  Camouflage, he realised, remembering the voluptuous figure she’d revealed at the pool. But why did Katie always feel this overwhelming need to cover up? The plain tailored trousers and simple jumper were a great improvement on the boxy suit, but they were hardly flattering. Thinking of the PAs he’d hired in the past made him want to shake his head in bemusement—when he would have preferred them to keep their clothes on they couldn’t wait to whip them off. ‘Don’t you have any other clothes with you? Jeans?’ he suggested.

  ‘Just one pair I bought when I went shopping with Antonia. I didn’t want to spoil them.’

  He curbed a smile. That simple comment touched him somewhere deep. He’d become a stranger to having one of anything years ago. He turned determinedly back to business. He was already dressed in off-duty jeans and a casual top and was ready for the dirty work ahead of them. ‘So you’re ready to start work?’

  ‘Yes, I am,’ she said, staring straight into his eyes.

  He came around the desk to shake her hand. ‘Welcome to the team.’

  * * *

  She liked the way Rigo could be strong and unemotional. She also didn’t like it—and for his sake more than anything else. A man so easily divorced from emotion could end up lonely. But she wanted this job and Rigo’s grip was firm and compelling. She wished with all her heart things could have been different between them, but they weren’t different. She had to hold her nerve now so he would understand she had drawn a line under everything that had happened between them. ‘I hope I don’t disappoint you,’ she said, noting that Rigo held her hand for precisely the right length of time an employer should hold the hand of an employee.

  He smiled slightly. ‘I don’t think there’s the slightest danger of that.’

  * * *

  When roused, don’t stand in his way. Rigo waited for no one, Katie concluded as he strode off. Even her embarrassment had been refused time to ferment. He was out of the library and across the hall before she had pulled a pen out of her bag, and now her heels were rattling across the floor in hot pursuit. They were surrounded by priceless antiques and frescoes that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the Sistine Chapel, and the scent of history competed with the strong smell of disinfectant from the recently cleaned floor and was a dizzying combination. Or was that the Rigo effect? She was going to work for him. She did work for him. She ran faster and almost collided with him at the foot of the stairs. He gave her no time to recover. Seizing her shoulders, he swung her around. ‘Tell me what you make of this.’

  Breath shot out of her lungs in a gasp as she followed his gaze up the stairs to take in the garish stair carpet. Truth? Or diplomatic lie?

  ‘Come on, come on,’ he pressed. ‘I want a reaction—’

  ‘It stinks.’

  ‘That’s what I think. What should we put in its place?’

  A runner at most. Or, depending on what they found underneath, the naked steps. She told him. He agreed.

  ‘Make a note.’

  She did so.

  Oh, this job was fun. She raced after him. Who else had a boss so big and hard and sexy, a boss who only had to look at her to fill her body with the zest for life—along with other things? She didn’t mind running to keep up with Rigo’s easy, loping stride, because if he stopped suddenly she had discovered that crashing into him was like crashing into a padded wall—and who wouldn’t want to rest against that, and even writhe a little, given half a chance?

  ‘Well?’ he demanded, thumping the wall with his meaty fist. ‘What do you think of this?’

  ‘They’ve plastered over stone that might have been better left exposed.’ She pressed her lips together as their eyes met briefly. Images of other things—more interesting, but just as hard as stone—made her cheeks blaze.

  ‘Exactly,’ he rapped, striding off again.

  She sucked in a breath and refocused determinedly before hurrying after him.

  ‘This is a recent addition too.’ He disdainfully flicked a hand at some dismal curtains and strode on again.

  She made a note to replace the hangings.

  ‘This is a disgrace,’ he snapped, moving her aside to examine a sleazy mural more closely.

  ‘Sandblast it?’

  He almost smiled.

  ‘We’ll need a historical architect to advise us on renovations,’ he said, walking on. ‘Take a note.’

  Something in the tone of that voice doused her enthusiasm. He was beginning to take her for granted. ‘You’ll need one,’ she said. ‘I don’t know how long I’m going to be here—trial period,’ she reminded him, chasing after him down some stairs. This wasn’t turning out as she had expected. She wanted more out of life than taking notes. She wanted to be listened to, at the very least, even if her thoughts were later discarded. But had Rigo even heard her?

  She was ready to renege on their deal, Katie realised. She had been invited to become part of a team, not a dictatorship. She would stay until Rigo found a replacement for her, but then she would go home and find some other, safer way to spread her wings.

  ‘This is more like a casino than a valuable historical site,’ he remarked, opening one door and slamming it shut with a bang. ‘Make a note—’

  ‘You make a note.’ She shoved her notebook in his hand. ‘You know what you want. Presumably you can write it down.’

  She’d never thrown a temper tantrum in her life. Rigo paused to look at her. He let one beat pass, and then another. He made no attempt to take the pen and paper she was offering him. ‘What do you think of the room?’ he said mildly then.

  She gritted her teeth. ‘I think it looks more like a casino than a site of historical importance,’ she ground out.

  His lips tugged. Her body yearned. They walked on.

  ‘This used to be a slate floor,’ he observed, sounding more relaxed.

  The mood was catching and, in spite of her reservations, she relaxed too; enough to carry out her own investigations. They had entered a second, dimly lit corridor leading off from the first and once again it was lavishly carpeted in hotel style. ‘I thin
k we’d better add a stone-floor specialist to the list.’

  ‘I agree,’ he murmured in her ear. There was humour in his gaze that did considerable damage to her composure. He walked on. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me to find a nightclub and a spa down here.’

  ‘Could this be it?’ Katie wondered, peering into a stale-smelling cavern. Judging by the heaped ashtrays and the litter of drinks, this was the room in which Carlo’s friends had chosen to wait for them. ‘I’ll get round to clearing it up as soon as I can—’

  ‘You’ll get round to it?’ He swung towards her. ‘That’s not your problem. Katie.’

  Signorina Prim, Signorina Dull, had had enough. The demon temper had been roused and was still very close to the surface. She only had to remember working alongside

  Rigo’s staff the previous evening for that temper to erupt into words. ‘I might not be stylish and rich like you, but if there’s one thing I do know about, it’s cleanliness and order. Who do you think cleaned the hall? You have a wonderful staff if you chose to notice them.’

  To her surprise Rigo didn’t respond to her attack, and instead granted her a mocking bow. ‘I can assure you my wonderful staff has already told me what you did here yesterday.’

  ‘They did most of it—’

  ‘You claim no credit?’

  ‘Why should I?’

  He gave her a look. ‘Why didn’t you ask me to help?’

  Her only thought had been to start getting things in a better state for him. ‘I didn’t want to trouble you last night.’ Blushing now, she quickly changed the subject, having convinced herself she neither needed nor wanted Rigo’s praise. ‘You were upset and so—’

  ‘You’re making excuses for me?’ he suggested mildly.

  There was that flash of humour again in his intense green gaze and she hungered for more of it. There was silence while they studied each other’s faces with new understanding. It was no longer Rigo Ruggiero, infamous playboy confronting Katie Bannister, poorly paid messenger girl with a hopeless taste in suits, but a man and a woman who each had the same goal.

  But don’t get too carried away, Katie warned herself, breaking eye contact first. A leopard doesn’t change its spots that easily. A maxim that could apply to both of them, she conceded as Rigo resumed his inspection.

  ‘This room will have to be gutted...’

  And with that the spell that had so briefly held them was broken.

  ‘In fact,’ he added, ‘all the rooms will have to be gutted—make a note.’

  She did so, but this time there was a smile hovering round her lips. No wonder he couldn’t keep his staff. ‘It’s only cleaning and redecoration,’ she pointed out, but by the time she looked up from her notebook Rigo was out of sight.

  Had he forgotten she was with him? Katie wondered when she found Rigo examining an electrical circuit box. ‘Electrician?’

  ‘Full check,’ he confirmed. ‘Our first goal must be safety for everyone, and then we must concentrate on bringing the palazzo back to its authentic state.’

  ‘No earth closets, I hope?’ she couldn’t resist murmuring as he cast an eye over her notes.

  ‘State-of-the-art plumbing. There’s nothing better than a long, hot shower.’

  As he looked to her for agreement she blushed again.

  Opening a door at the far end of the corridor, he stepped outside. She followed, desperate to be free of all the conflicting emotions bottled up indoors. Gulping in the fresh, clean air, she exclaimed with pleasure and relief.

  Rigo turned to look at her. ‘How do you like the job so far?’ he demanded.

  She saw the irony in his eyes. ‘I’m only here until you find a replacement.’

  ‘Or I sack you.’

  There was another of those long moments where they stared into each other’s eyes. A breeze had whipped Rigo’s hair into a fury, but his eyes were full of laughter as he raked it back.

  She’d asked for this and she’d got it. Mad for him or not, she was under no illusion: Rigo wanted someone with an organised mind to take notes for him, just as he said. He needed her—not for all the reasons she’d like, but because she could keep life organised. She was a convenient choice, Katie reasoned as he dropped onto one hip. ‘Are you coming or not?’ he said.

  ‘I’m right here.’

  ‘Of course, you do realise if you prove satisfactory this could become a permanent position.’

  ‘If I decide I want it.’ She looked away so he didn’t see her disappointment. Her dreams extended further than being his PA in a suit.

  They spent the rest of the morning checking and discussing and formulating an initial plan of action, while she filled her notebook with notes. By lunchtime Katie could only conclude Rigo had some magic dust that had wiped the previous night’s debacle from her mind. The incident at the pool also appeared to have been forgotten. It was better this way for both of them, Katie concluded; no tension, no agenda, purely business.

  They joined the staff for lunch, all of whom were keen to put Rigo’s plan for them into action right away. ‘But run everything past me,’ Rigo reminded Katie as he left her in charge. ‘I’ve had enough surprises for one visit.’

  She didn’t doubt it.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  KATIE’S FACE BURNED as she saw knowing smiles exchanged between the staff. Rigo had come back into the kitchen to tell her that two teams of men were waiting and he needed her right away.

  ‘To take notes?’ she suggested, avoiding his gaze.

  ‘You’re quick,’ he murmured, ushering her out. ‘One team is here to start work on the heavy cleaning,’ he explained, ‘so we don’t put unnecessary pressure on the staff.’

  ‘Good idea. And the other?’

  ‘They’re here to sort you out—’

  ‘Sort me out?’ Katie exclaimed.

  Taking the pad from her hand, Rigo stuck it in the back pocket of his jeans. ‘You won’t need to take notes for this.’

  ‘For what?’ Katie’s heart leaped into her throat as Rigo took her by the hand.

  ‘If you’re going to be working for me you’ll need a new wardrobe of clothes—’

  ‘To go rooting round the cellars with mice and spiders?’

  ‘Your clothes are giving me eye-ache.’

  ‘Well, I’m sorry if I—’

  ‘You might be in Italy, but you don’t have to dress like a nonna.’

  Katie was too shocked to speak. A maiden aunt was one thing, but a grannie? Freeing her hand, she stood her ground. ‘I’m hardly on show. And as I’m only here until you find a—’

  ‘Think of it as your uniform,’ Rigo interrupted, ‘though, of course, I expect you to set a good example to the servants when you’re off duty too—’

  ‘And will you be buying them clothes?’

  ‘I will, as it happens. It’s about time they had something new, don’t you think?’

  He’d put her in an impossible position, but then Rigo was good at that.

  ‘Rigo, wait—’

  He stopped suddenly in the middle of the hall. Catching hold of her, he steadied her on her feet and stood back. Two groups of men were waiting at the far end of the hall—one team wearing overalls, the other in flamboyant suits. The overalls looked more appealing right now. She freed herself as discreetly as she could, conscious that even in a space as big as this sound travelled. As did sexual chemistry between two people. ‘Even if I did work for you on a permanent basis, which I don’t,’ she told Rigo in an impassioned whisper, ‘I have a perfectly serviceable suit—’

  ‘That brown thing? Chuck it. Or, if I find it first, I’ll chuck it out.’

  ‘Fortunately it’s already packed in my suitcase.’

  ‘So you’ve decided not to stay?’

  ‘I was ready
to leave last night,’ she admitted. ‘I asked your driver if he would take me to the airport today.’

  ‘Well, lucky for you I spoke to him too. And next time please do me the courtesy of speaking to me before you instruct my staff. Now, let’s get on. None of these people want to be kept waiting. I can’t think of a woman in the world who would turn down the chance to have the designers I have chosen create a look for her.’

  ‘A mistress in the world, maybe.’

  It was only a mutter but he heard her.

  ‘Don’t flatter yourself.’

  Ouch.

  ‘I’m merely extending the same courtesy to you I show to all the people who work for me—’

  ‘And you can’t keep any of them.’

  She could always call a cab, Katie reasoned as Rigo’s expression darkened.

  ‘Those I don’t want leave my employ.’

  ‘So I have to earn the right to work for you?’

  ‘You have to do the job you’re paid for. That’s reasonable, isn’t it? There’s a wonderful opportunity here if you want to be part of it. With the right team I can take Carlo’s poisoned chalice and turn it into something wonderful—and that’s all I’m prepared to say at the moment.’

  ‘You’re talking about something more than renovating the palazzo?’

  ‘When my ideas are fully formed I’ll let you know.’

  ‘So you don’t trust me, but you want me to work for you?’

  ‘I’m saying confidentiality is an issue.’

  ‘I’d need to know more.’

  ‘When I’m ready.’ And, when she still looked doubtful, his lips curved in a dangerous smile. ‘Do you really need more time to get used to the thrill of working for me?’