Turning, he headed back down the stairs.
Kira was torn between relief and disappointment. When he walked away it was because he was unwilling to open up about himself. They had that in common, she recognised. It gave her enough courage to follow him downstairs. Although unable to take that one momentous step into his arms, she did not want to lose touch with him altogether.
‘It’s still pouring out there, Stefano. Why don’t you stay for a coffee?’ she ventured.
He did not look at her. Instead, he went over to the open front door. There he stood with one hand on either side of the door frame. When he spoke, his voice was as light and careless as hers.
‘That would be great. And I meant what I said about wanting you to work for me.’
They might as well have still been discussing the weather. His attention was riveted on the curtains of rain rippling over her drenched and glittering garden.
‘And I’m equally determined to take my time over considering your offer,’ Kira said firmly, fixing him the macchiato he requested. She poured herself an identical drink, keen to keep a clear head while he was under her roof. ‘I need to know what strings are attached, Stefano.’
‘There won’t be any. I like to keep my affairs simple.’
He was still watching the rain. As Kira reached his side with the coffee, the downpour wavered and began to ease. A final flurry of thunder rattled away into the distance.
‘I like to keep my affairs completely separate from my work,’ she said, handing him his cup.
He was silhouetted against the doorway, surveying the land beyond her garden fence as though it was already part of his very own kingdom. At last he turned his head and looked at her. A man who took control so naturally would never expect a woman to refuse him anything. That thought made Kira fizz with an illicit thrill. Stefano Albani might be about to buy the Bella Terra estate, but the power he had over her had nothing to do with territory. She felt the need for him growing within her. That desire was reflected in his beautiful blue eyes. His gaze was as tempting as evening sunshine. Kira knew she held the key to her own escape from solitude, and that made her powerful. She could choose to satisfy the cravings he was awakening in her body, or tighten her armour of self-reliance. The choice was hers and she was glad, but it disturbed her. It would be so easy to give in, right here and now. She was afraid that if she did, Stefano would turn out to be no better than the last man she had learned to trust.
Some dreams needed to be kept at arm’s length. That way they could last for as long as she wanted.
As she passed Stefano the coffee, his fingers made contact with hers again. It was only for a fraction of a second, but it would linger in her memory for the rest of her life. Their eyes met as he drained the small cup in one movement. Then he walked over and placed it on the coffee table.
‘The rain has stopped, so I must go. Thank you for being such a delightful hostess, Kira. I don’t like to mix women and work, but as you aren’t quite on my payroll yet…’
Before Kira knew what was happening she was in his arms. He took complete control as his body spoke for them both. His lips were cool and totally irresistible. She dissolved under the pressure, and he was there to catch her. Despite all her good intentions, she let herself reach out to him. She delighted in the delicacy of the thin, smooth skin stretched taut over his finely drawn cheekbones. Her fingers ran through the silkiness of his dark hair as she drew him ever closer to her, hungry to experience every nuance of him. In response, his fingers stroked lightly over her bare arms, forming a prison she never wanted to escape. When he began to draw away, she instinctively tried to follow. Gently, he detached her arms from his neck. Holding her hands between his, he squeezed them lightly.
‘No. After what you have said to me today, Kira, I know you would never forgive yourself for mixing business with pleasure,’ he said, his expression carefully innocent, but a wicked sparkle in his eyes belying his words. ‘I’ll tell my staff to get a draft contract out to you as soon as possible. Until then, goodbye.’
Lifting his hand to his lips, he blew her one final kiss, and then strode right out of her house.
It was all Kira could do not to rush after him. Fighting every instinct, she forced herself to stay exactly where she was. She wanted go out and wave him off, but a man like Stefano would see that as his right. Women were probably doing it every day of the week. It would do him good to think there was one woman who didn’t keep him at the centre of her universe. The thought gave Kira a funny twist of pleasure, and she almost smiled. The racket his helicopter made as it roared into life was almost as hard to ignore as its pilot.
Kira only went out onto the veranda when the throbbing engine sound had dwindled away. Stefano’s helicopter was high in the sky, reduced to the size of a child’s toy. It made several slow circuits overhead like a bird of prey, and then headed off swiftly in the direction of Florence. This time she really did allow herself to smile.
Kira had run from romance for years. After that first disastrous affair with Hugh, she vowed never to get entangled again. And now Stefano Albani breezed into her life, attacking the walls of her reserve. She told herself it didn’t matter, as the way she was feeling had nothing to do with love. Her heart was not involved. That meant there was no danger she could be hurt a second time. Her response to Stefano was on a purely physical level, and that was how she intended to keep it. He aroused her body to a pitch she had never before experienced. It was unprecedented, startling, but at least it was simple.
It was love that would complicate matters, and Kira had absolutely no intention of allowing that.
Stefano was a happy man as he flew back towards Florence. He hummed a snatch of Don Giovanni to himself, revelling in the comfort of his air-conditioned cockpit. The Bella Terra estate was what life was all about. That was why he worked so hard, and put up with all the long hours and pressure. His features sharpened with their usual hawklike intensity. Memory was a savage goad. Whatever he had to put up with, he could do it in luxurious surroundings waited on by dozens of staff. As a teenager he had heard English tourists talk of their villas in Tuscany and vowed he would live like them one day. Whatever they could do, he would do better. It had taken him nearly twenty years, but he had managed it. He was going to own the most beautiful valley in all Italy.
His blue eyes veiled. It contained the most beautiful woman in the country as well. The enigmatic Miss Banks might well prove a bigger challenge than he had at first anticipated. Her failure to be swayed by his wealth or reputation made her unique, in his experience. A slow smile spread over his face the more he thought about her. Novelty wasn’t the only reason why she leapt into his mind. Kissing her senseless had kindled a need for her within his body. The temptation to carry on softening her resistance beneath his lips and hands had been difficult to resist. It had threatened to overcome him, but he had conquered it. There was no shortage of sex in Stefano’s life, but his reactions to Kira Banks felt somehow different. For once in his adult life, he was wondering less about her beautiful body, and more about the woman within.
He found himself wanting to see her again. That thought made him feel uneasy.
Miles away and far below, Kira shared his feelings. It had taken her so long to get over the horror that had been Hugh Taylor, she was determined never to be taken in by a man again. Yet Stefano Albani made her feel weak at the knees. And weak in the head, she told herself crossly, but it was impossible to think about him and frown. That was a revelation. Her only experience of men so far had ended in tears. Now, for the first time in years, a man was forcing her to reconsider. Stefano hadn’t made her cry. In fact, every time she thought about him, she smiled. That will have to stop, she told herself sternly.
Memories usually knocked all the daydreams out of her head. Thoughts about Stefano didn’t. Instead, she was filled with a wonderful warm feeling. It was such an unfamiliar sensation it took her a while to recognise it as lust. Shy amusement engulfed her in a wave of embarrassment,
but that vanished when she caught sight of the envelope lying on her table. Stefano had stroked all thoughts of it from her mind. She picked it up. Meeting him put this letter from her stepparents into perspective. If she could cope so well with a man like that, what was to stop her dealing with a call from home? Full of unusual optimism, she tore the envelope open. It was the usual tissue-lined affair, drenched in her stepmother’s trademark perfume. Unfolding the stiff sheet of handmade paper, Kira cut straight to the chase. Glancing at the foot of the letter, she read the words, ‘All our love, Henrietta and Charles.’
She scowled. That was all she needed to know. Her stepparents only sent her their love when they wanted money. If things were going well, they conveniently forgot about the girl who had disappointed them in every way, except in her capacity as a cash cow.
She scanned the rest of the copperplate handwriting. Mr and Mrs Banks weren’t stupid. They never came straight out with a request for cash. Hints were threaded through the glowing reports of their younger daughter Miranda’s success as an actress, and her new romance with a millionaire. Of course, this meant the Banks family wanted to entertain on a grand scale. Kira chuckled, imagining her stepmother circling Miranda’s boy-friend with canapés brought all the way from Fortnum and Mason. They were her preferred bait for a future son-in-law. The Bankses’ mortgage was unpaid and their house was falling apart. Despite that, the expensive perfume was still on draft and hopes of coming into money from somewhere or another were still high. Some things never changed.
Kira’s face fell again as she read the final paragraph of the letter: ‘When you ring each week, could you make it a little earlier? Six o’clock is such an inconvenient time as we’re nearly always on the way out.’
Their instructions usually made her feel nine years old again, but today was different. Stefano Albani was stronger than all Kira’s bad memories put together. Impulsively, she screwed up the letter and lobbed it towards the waste bin. It missed, but Kira was in good spirits as she got up to retrieve it. It was amazing what a little boost to the self-esteem could do.
And a kiss from Stefano Albani worked like rocket fuel.
Next day, Stefano’s legal team presented him with a contract for the landscaping and design work he wanted done on his town house in Florence. His PA scheduled a call for him, summoning Miss Kira Banks to his office. While Stefano held meetings, Kira was pushed to the back of his mind. However, the moment he pulled her file from his in-box to make the call, things changed. At the sight of her name, he paused. One look at the neatly printed contract catapulted her to the front of his consciousness again. This wasn’t some run-of-the-mill conquest. This was Miss Kira Banks, who had been funny and spiky and brought back powerful memories of the last time someone stood up to him. He found himself going back over every second of the previous day.
He inhaled deeply, bringing to mind the sweet lavender and lemon fragrance of her. She was perfumed by soap and fresh air. He spent a few moments revelling in her image. It was a mystery why she hid behind such a prickly attitude. He knew it was only a front. The warm surrender of her body beneath his hands when he touched her assured him of that. Her reactions were perfect. It was her mind he needed to explore. That idea made him uncomfortable.
Suddenly he leaned forward and snapped a button on his office intercom.
‘Cancel that call, and the contract in the name of Kira Banks,’ he growled. ‘I need to do some more research.’
Stefano believed in being the best, and having the best. To keep up his high standards, he used only the top people. He wanted to employ Kira Banks because she really was the best person for the job, not just because he wanted to bed her.
Slumping back in his seat he gnawed the side of his thumb, deep in thought. Work and women were totally separate compartments of his life. He had fancied Kira from the first moment he saw her, but that was the very worst reason for giving anyone a job. Her work was great, but he had only seen one of her projects. For her body and spirit to haunt him like this, it could only be a bad thing. Emotion mustn’t be allowed to affect his judgement. He ought to distance himself from the process, and get some other opinions. He needed to be absolutely sure she was the right person for this project.
Picking up his pen, he drew two careful lines through the name and address on the cover of the file in front of him. He liked speed, but not at the expense of perfection. Besides, that faint air of mystery surrounding Miss Kira Banks might erupt into some sort of scandal for Albani International. It didn’t matter how Stefano wanted her, nothing could be allowed to taint the name of his company.
Not even the most beautiful Englishwoman in Italy.
Kira looked at Stefano’s stark-white business card every day. Her heart fluttered with excitement. She ran her finger over the engraved wording until his telephone number was burned into her brain, but she never rang it. That smooth, self-assured man must never be in any doubt that Kira was her own woman, with other projects and a lot of things on her mind.
Finally, exactly two weeks after Stefano had grabbed her by mistake in the garden, she couldn’t resist any longer. She sat down, cleared her throat and picked up the receiver. Then she put it down again. Maybe she should get her laptop up and running in case he started talking business straight away. She wanted him to think she was calm and efficient, even though she didn’t feel it as she lifted the phone to try once more. This time she paused to fetch a glass of water. It would be terrible if her mouth dried before she could speak to him.
Eventually, her heart rattling like a touch typist’s fingertips, she dialled the number.
‘Signor Albani’s office. How may I help you?’ a sunny female voice enquired.
Kira had no idea. Naively, she’d thought the number on Stefano’s own business card would have been a direct line to his desk.
‘Who is speaking, please?’ the voice asked as though she was only one among thousands.
‘Kira Banks.’ Kira made herself answer in the friendly, confident tone she reserved for clients. ‘I’m ringing to check on a contract that Signor Albani was going to arrange for me.’
‘Ah.’
That single sound was enough to bring her back to earth. While the receptionist went off to check, Kira was left to imagine exactly how many other women rang this number each day. Silver-tongued Stefano must make a million similar promises.
She was on hold for ages. The silence was almost as painful as piped music would have been. It gave her a long time to reflect on her foolishness. Finally, the receptionist returned, and Kira’s heart fell still further.
‘I’m sorry, Miss Banks, we have no record of a contract being issued in that name. Perhaps if you could give me a reference from the letter we sent you?’
‘No…no. It’s okay. I must have made a mistake,’ Kira muttered indistinctly. And not for the first time, she thought bitterly as she put down the receiver.
Kira stared at the telephone for a long, long time. She felt totally deflated. In her daydreams, Stefano Albani couldn’t wait to get back to her side. He would have paid cash for the Bella Terra estate, simply so he could move in as soon as possible. Instead, he must have forgotten about her the moment he climbed back into his helicopter. He had turned out to be no different from any of the other rich men she had worked for. All of them could spin a fine yarn. They couldn’t make and hang onto big money without being able to charm investors. And women, she thought ruefully, touching her lips. Remembering the rasp of Stefano’s cheek against her skin sent a tingle coursing through her body. She smiled, recalling the wonderful experience of being held and kissed until her worries spun away. The man was a rat, but why had she expected anything else?
She would cope. She had survived a worse disaster—and at least her brush with Stefano had happened in private. Her life was her own, and from now on that was how it would stay. She smiled sadly. Her single, unforgettable contact with him was a total one-off. It was destined never to happen again. I should have known that fr
om the start, she told herself briskly.
She tried to smile again, but it was impossible.
Kira’s disappointment over the contract squashed all her fantasies flat. No one did anything for nothing. Mentally she shrugged her shoulders, but Stefano refused to be forgotten. He had set such an exciting fire into her soul. Long ago, life had taught her to expect nothing when it came to men. She knew in her bones Stefano could be no different, but it had been a lovely fantasy. Those sweet memories of him refused to leave her. Whether drifting through her dreams or sending shock waves through her day when she thought she glimpsed his familiar figure in the street, Stefano would not let her go.
She was putting the finishing touches to a very chic project on the outskirts of Florence when her mobile rang.
‘Miss Kira Banks?’
Kira couldn’t recognise either the woman’s voice, or the number that flashed up on her phone’s screen. The only people who used this number were clients. Instantly on her guard, she hesitated.
‘Who wants to know?’
‘I work for Signor Albani. We understand you are on the point of completing a project for Prince Alfonse. Signor Albani wants you to leave it and travel straight to his office. A car will pick you up in approximately—’
‘Wait a minute!’ Kira interrupted angrily. ‘When I rang your office to check about this, you didn’t even have any knowledge of a contract in my name!’
‘When was this?’
‘The day before yesterday.’
‘Then perhaps you were a little impatient, Miss Banks.’ The voice was cool.
Kira was in no mood to be treated like an idiot.
‘If Signor Albani is clever enough to have found out where I’m working, then he ought to know better than to interrupt me when I’m busy. I don’t have time to waste on idle chit-chat with an unreliable man.’
The Italian's Blushing Gardener Page 5