Captivated by Her Italian Boss

by Rosanna Battigelli

  Stop! What are you doing? This fairy wanted to have nothing to do with you, remember? She made it quite clear that you were below her. And she’s not here for any reason other than to take care of Bianca.

  Davide realized he was clenching his jaw and relaxed it. The fact was, Neve Wilder had had the best credentials for the job, and he had to forget what she had been like at eighteen. What had devastated him at the time—and afterward—had probably not affected her one bit. She had most likely forgotten the whole incident. And maybe him, as well... In any case, he had no intention of bringing it up...unless she did.

  Making his way down the gleaming oak staircase to the main floor, Davide had thought of how opportune it was to have arranged for Bianca to be away for a few days. Thank goodness Bianca enjoyed spending time with Lucia, his trusted research assistant and friend. Davide didn’t know how he would have gotten through these past few months without Lucia’s help. She had been there to pick up the pieces after he had dismissed the last three nannies, and for that he would be eternally grateful. Lucia was married with no children of her own but had grown up in a large family, and had a wonderful way with children.

  Davide was grateful that Lucia had gained Bianca’s trust, but Lucia wasn’t there to be a nanny. After the disappointments of the past, he intended to discover whether Neve Wilder was truly the right choice. He’d decided not to introduce Bianca to her new nanny right away, and risk upsetting her if he had to fire Neve.

  Davide was sure that he would be able to determine if Neve’s character was genuine, or if she had just put on a good act during the interview. And if his judgment had been faulty, he’d waste no time in sending her back to Vancouver.

  David had stipulated that Neve would have a “trial period” in the contract, but he had omitted to mention that Bianca wouldn’t be there at that time. He shrugged, his mouth twisting.

  His prerogative. He was the boss.

  When Davide had opened the thick wooden door, he had felt a surge of electricity zip through his veins. His gaze had flown first to Neve, then he had smiled at Tomaso to bring up Neve’s luggage to her room. “The one in the turret,” he had directed, and then had focused his attention to Neve. Nothing in her gaze had indicated that she had recognized him. Good. Maybe that was for the best... But her smile had suddenly faltered...and then he had realized that his expression had hardly been welcoming.

  No matter what he thought of her, he had reminded himself that he had to be civil, for Bianca’s sake.

  Davide had forced himself to smile, and despite the hard, twisted knot in his gut that he had lived with for the past eight years, faking his welcome had made him feel like a cad.

  Now he swore inwardly as he saw something shut down in her blue-green eyes. She had perceptively picked up on his less than genuine gesture.

  Neve had not even been in his presence for a minute, and he was feeling emotional turmoil. Realizing now that he was staring at her, he cleared his throat and tried softening his tone. “I apologize, Signorina Wilder. I’ve had little sleep these past few months. It has been a very difficult time, as you can imagine.” He offered her his hand.

  Her aquamarine eyes widened. “Yes, of course, signor.” She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m very sorry for your loss...and Bianca’s.”

  The touch of her hand in his, albeit brief, ignited his nerve endings.

  He nodded and focused on what she was saying. Were her eyes actually misting? “Thank you. May I take your carry-on?” He wanted to veer away from any further mention of his sister and brother-in-law. The last thing he wanted was to be emotional in front of her.

  Fortunately, Tomaso’s reappearance distracted them both. Davide thanked him and offered him a cool refreshment, but Tomaso respectfully declined. “My wife texted me to say her eggplant parmigiana would be ready when I get home,” he chuckled. “And believe me, she makes the best melanzana alla parmigiana.”

  “I don’t blame you for hurrying back.” Davide nodded. “It’s not every man who can go home to a good meal—and a good woman,” he added drily. He shook Tomaso’s hand, and as Tomaso headed toward his Fiat Cinquecento, Davide motioned for Neve to enter the castle. He could see that Neve was impressed by what she saw. He gave her a few moments as she took in the rich oak staircase curving sensuously to the second level, the vaulted ceiling and pale mint walls, the luxurious peach marble tiles and the gleaming walnut and oak inlaid furniture pieces, including the round central table, enhanced by a large crystal vase filled with fresh flowers of every color. Davide had them delivered and arranged once a week. He enjoyed the look and scent of them in the foyer—the mix of peony and oleander, jasmine and rose, and any other combination of flowers native to Calabria.

  “I imagine you’re tired after your trip, Signorina Wilder. I’ll show you to your room.” He gestured toward the staircase.

  Neve hesitated for a moment before nodding, and as she proceeded gracefully up the stairs, Davide couldn’t stop his gaze from sweeping over her. Her dress molded to the curves of her body, and its flared and layered skirt swayed with her hip movements. Davide swallowed as his eyes swept farther downward along the length of her calves and to her low-heeled sandals. She suddenly stopped on the landing, and he looked up too late to stop his body from bumping into hers. She faltered, and his arms instinctively dropped her carry-on bag and reached out to steady her.

  For a moment his body went into shock. The feel of her trim waist almost completely encircled by his hands made his nerve endings sizzle. His mouth was inches away from her neck, and, oh, how he had often dreamt of—

  He felt her stiffen. And he remembered that his fantasies of holding her in his arms, of brushing a path of kisses against her neck before moving upward to taste her coral lips, had died with his hopes long before, splintering like the waves that dashed against the boulders on the shore.

  “Mi scusi,” he apologized curtly, moving away to pick up her bag. He preceded her down the hall, walking past a half-dozen doors until he stopped at a curved section, one of the four turrets in the castle. Davide wanted her in the spare room next to Bianca, and both were across the hall from his bedroom and his study.

  Not that he had any ungentlemanly intentions toward Neve. No, despite his undeniable attraction to Neve still, his pride would not allow him to even venture in that direction. She was here to do the job he had hired her for. Nothing more, nothing less. He opened the thick, rounded door. “I hope you will be pleased with this room, Signorina Wilder.”

  She glanced past him and her mouth opened in wonder. Turning, she gave him a dazzling smile. “Pleased? This is every girl’s dream come true,” she breathed. “A castle and a room fit for a princess—I feel like I’m in a fairy tale...” She went straight to the casement window to check out the view. The breeze rippled through her hair, and Davide felt a twist in his gut at the reality that she was actually here in person.

  “I’m glad you like it.” He gave her a piercing look as he set down her bag. “Just keep in mind, though, that your experience here may not be like the fairy tales you’re familiar with. And hopefully, you’ll last longer than the previous three princesses...”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  NEVE STARED AT the door that had just closed behind him. She felt foolish now for having gushed about the place; he must have thought her materialistic, or at the very least, fanciful. And she had a strong feeling that fanciful was not what he wanted in a nanny.

  Neve looked around. She wondered what kind of a job her boss had to allow him to renovate an ancient castle in such a lavish manner. There had been nothing in sight to enlighten her in any way about this. Perhaps he had inherited money and didn’t have to work...

  She had grown up accustomed to a wealthy lifestyle, but this, this place was over-the-top. The floor was a stunning pale rose marble with veins of gold. The bed stood in the center of a rich Renaissance-style rug. The duvet a
nd pillow shams had the dreamy colors of an impressionist painting, with assorted custom pillows in turquoise and gold. The massive armoire matched the gleaming wood of the bed and the night tables, and on the top of each end table stood an antique lamp with carnelian tassels hanging from the rim of each shade. A luxurious burgundy recliner was positioned by the window.

  This was obviously decorated for a woman’s use, Neve thought, eyeing the ornate dressing table against one wall. Had her boss designed it for his lady? Or wife? She hadn’t seen a ring on his finger, which didn’t necessarily mean he wasn’t married. Neve felt her stomach tighten at the thought of how his hands had felt around her waist. With his gorgeous looks, how could she even think he wasn’t attached in one way or another? Those hands of his were probably in high demand...

  Neve forced herself to stop that train of thought. What was the matter with her? She was here not even an hour, and already she was thinking about her boss in a way that an employee should not be.

  She strode to the mahogany four-poster bed, with its matching step-up stool. After removing her sandals, she climbed up to sit on the bed. Much as she wanted to lie down and have a nap, Neve’s mind was too preoccupied to let herself sleep. On the plane trip, her thoughts had kept returning to the little girl that she would soon meet. Would Bianca be upset or hostile to yet another nanny showing up? Not that there had been any mention of her being hostile, but Neve couldn’t help wondering at the cause of the dismissal of three previous nannies.

  They had obviously displeased Neve’s uncle. Could one of them have been negligent in her care of Bianca? Had one been too harsh with her? Or had one of the nannies been more attentive to their boss than to his niece? Neve turned over every possibility that she could think of, and had finally convinced herself to stop. Just because three nannies had disappointed their employer, it didn’t mean that she would. In any case, all she could do was try her best. Use all the skills and compassion she had to try to reach this little girl.

  Neve felt a twinge in her heart, thinking of Bianca’s tragic loss. Not one parent, but two. A double trauma. And then to be whisked away to a new country where she had nobody but her uncle as family. Neve took a deep breath. No, this was not going to be a vacation.

  She frowned. And how strange was it that she still didn’t know her employer’s name? He hadn’t introduced himself, and taken by surprise at his appearance, Neve hadn’t even thought of asking...

  A couple of taps at the door made her start. “Scusi, Signorina Neve. I thought you might like some refreshments.”

  Neve slid off the bed and put on her sandals before hurrying to open the door. He was holding a silver tray with a bottle of water and one of orange juice, a small platter of grapes and golden plums and a variety of cheeses and crackers. He was still wearing his glasses, which Neve found rather unnerving.

  “That’s very thoughtful. Thank you, Mr...?”

  He looked at her intently. “Cortese,” he said curtly. “You’re welcome.” He strode to the dressing table and set the tray down. He walked back to the door and then looked over his shoulder at her. “After you have rested and when you are ready, please come to my study across the hall and we’ll go over my expectations...”

  Neve’s eyebrows arched. Hadn’t Lucia Michele informed her of all his expectations? She felt her stomach muscles contract. There was something in the way he was looking at her that made her stomach quiver with apprehension. And when exactly was he planning to introduce her to Bianca? He hadn’t said anything about her whereabouts. She was most likely having an afternoon siesta, and Neve would meet her afterward...

  “I’m not feeling that tired right now, Signor Cortese. But I wouldn’t mind having some water and fruit.” Neve gave him a tentative smile. “I’ll be over in a few minutes, and by then, I’m hoping that Bianca—”

  “Bianca’s not here,” he said swiftly. He swiveled to face her. “She’s away for a few days. My assistant—Signora Michele—has a niece visiting, and I arranged for Bianca to spend a few days with them. I thought that we could use the time to review a few things...”

  Neve had to stop from gaping as she stared back at him. She felt a shiver run through her. She was alone in a castle miles away from anyone, with a man who had wanted his identity protected. Could she trust him? What if—

  “You have nothing to worry about, Signorina Wilder,” he said coolly. “I’m not planning to compromise your virtue.” His ebony eyes swept over her body deliberately before locking with hers. “I had you brought here for my niece, not for me.” He turned to leave. “And I have no interest in taking up in that way with straniere.”

  Neve’s stomach tensed at the way his voice had chilled at the word foreigners, specifically foreign women. Speechless, she stood watching him, and even after he had shut the door firmly, she stood immobilized for another minute. Finally, she walked over to the dressing table, had a long drink of water and sat down on the stool, her heart racing as if she had just completed a marathon.

  She had no choice but to meet Signor Cortese in his study. But first she needed to cool herself off. After finishing the bottle of water, Neve stood up and taking a deep breath, headed for the door.

  * * *

  Davide had left the door of his study open. He heard Neve’s door open and shut and her footsteps as she crossed the hall. He remained at his desk, looking out to the view of the countryside and to the strip of azure sea beyond. “Come in,” he said curtly when her footsteps ceased at his doorway.

  He had been thinking about the startled fawn look on Neve’s face when he had told her that Bianca wasn’t there. I’m not planning to compromise your virtue, he had stated, and almost blurted afterward, if your virtue is still intact...

  Davide swiveled to face her, but remained sitting. He gestured to the maroon leather chair in front of her. “Please...have a seat.”

  He reached beyond his laptop for a file on the left-hand corner of his desk, and slid it toward him. He saw that Neve was gazing at the small pile of books on the other side of his desk.

  “So now you know what I do for a living...”

  Her eyes widened. “You’re an author?”

  Davide nodded. “I suppose you must have wondered what I did to enable me to buy this place and renovate it.” He saw a flush spread over her cheeks.

  “Well, it had crossed my mind,” she admitted, shrugging defensively. “But most writers don’t live... I mean...can’t live—”

  “Like this?” Davide smirked. “You’re right, Signorina Wilder. I was one of the lucky ones whose first novel—and the only one published so far—was not only awarded the Strega, Italy’s highest literary award, but was also optioned immediately by a major film company. And a television series is also in the works. If I wanted to, I could retire right now and live happily-ever-after...” The muscles in his jaw flicked. “But I have no intention of retiring. And happily-ever-after is not an option right now.” He tapped his closed laptop. “Eventually I’ll get back to working on my second novel...when Bianca is more settled...”

  “I’m sure luck was not the only factor in your success, Signor Cortese.”

  Neve’s soft voice was like a hammer against his heart. No, it hadn’t been all about luck. It had been about her rejection, about heartbreak, about losing himself in a fictional world to escape his own reality...

  “Perhaps I can read your book while I’m here...”

  No! Letting her read the story of Serena and Vittorio would be allowing her a glimpse—no, an entire window—into his soul, and he wasn’t ready for that... He had revealed a vulnerable part of his soul once to her, only to have it scorched by her harsh words.

  “Perhaps,” he forced himself to reply nonchalantly. “But I’m sure you’ll be too busy tending to Bianca...” He straightened in his chair. “But we’re not here to talk about me or my book,” he said curtly. “Let’s get down to business and not
my personal life.”

  “I’m sorry,” Neve replied quickly. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “Apology accepted.”

  “I—I hope I haven’t offended you.”

  Davide surveyed her for a moment. The flush on her face had deepened, and her discomfort was palpable. “I’m not offended in the least,” he replied crisply. At least not about the present. The past was a different story... He leaned forward, out of the direct sunlight. “Now, let’s go over Bianca’s routines...” He removed his sunglasses, his eyes boring into Neve’s.

  CHAPTER SIX

  NEVE’S LIPS PARTED with a sudden uptake of breath. His black eyes were so intense...like smoldering volcanic shards. She couldn’t pull her gaze away. She felt something stir in her memory... Black eyes that glistened like raven’s wings...

  Neve felt her heart begin to beat a warning drum against her chest.

  Could it be? The Italian who had made it a point to walk past her balcony every day while she had stayed at the Villa Morgana? Who had shown up at the beach with his friend when she was there with her mother?

  She scanned his face, trying to imagine him eight years younger, without the groomed shadow or styled hair.

  Yes. Sparks shot through her veins. It was him.

  Neve stared at him speechlessly. Eight years ago he had had longer hair and no groomed shadow, and he had been more lanky. Now he exuded maturity, worldliness and wealth. With his expensive clothes and styled hair that was short on the sides and back and curling on top, he looked as polished and sophisticated as a model in a magazine. His face had lost its adolescent leanness, and was strong, chiseled—and heart-stopping.

  What were the chances of him being Bianca’s uncle and her employer for the summer?