touch was strong, yet cool. If it had been any other man she would have pulled away. This was different. She smiled, and so did he.
‘I’ve never seen a lovelier woman,’ he purred. ‘Or one so beautifully dressed.’
Meg opened her mouth to say something, but those words turned her mind to jelly. Brushing her free hand over the silken folds of her new clothes, she tried another smile. Luckily, those muscles were still working despite the effect Gianni was having on the rest of her body. She could only hope her expression spoke for her.
She smiled at the idea.
‘That’s better! You don’t need anything more than a smile to make you the loveliest woman in the universe, Megan.’
Her heart sank as his touch left her, but he could not keep his hands off her for long. He took her arm, his fingers running slowly over her sleeve until they reached her hand. Then he inclined his head towards the summer dining room. ‘And now, Miss Imsey, shall we…?’
‘I’d be delighted, Signor Bellini.’ Meg smiled, and meant it.
Her mind was in a whirl as Gianni led her towards the banquet. The nearness of him acted on her like a drug. How was she supposed to make polite conversation over dinner when she felt like this? She was so nervous she could barely glance at him, but tried to look on the bright side. Her shyness was because he was so gorgeous. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen. And it feels as though he’s pretty impressed with me tonight, too, she thought, and blushed. What would he think if he knew that, despite her determined stand against his liquid eyes and irresistible hands, his gaze and touch still filled her mind? She was already fantasising about kissing him again. As she did so she coloured guiltily, and he noticed.
‘Don’t hang back! What’s the matter? I hope none of my male guests tried to distract you while you were showing them around your tropical empire?’
Her heartbeat increased. There was only one person in the world who could distract her, and that was him.
‘Don’t tell me that old dog Alterra has been up to his tricks again?’ Gianni said with sudden vigour.
‘No! Everyone has treated me very well. I was a bit worried that Italy would be full of bottom-pinching Don Giovannis, but luckily that turned out to be nothing but a—’
She stopped with a squeal, her eyes wide with surprise. Gianni’s hand had slithered over her rump and delivered an intimate squeeze. In between smiling and nodding at his guests as they passed on their way in to dinner, he leaned in close and whispered in Meg’s ear.
‘It would be such a shame if every single man here tonight let the side down, mio dolce!’ he murmured. With a mischievous wink he detached himself from her, ready to take his place at the main table.
Meg couldn’t help herself.
‘Don’t leave me, Gianni!’ The cry escaped before she could stifle it. ‘I’m not cut out for this!’
‘Of course you are!’ His hand darted out to her again, but this time he gave her nothing more than a friendly pat of reassurance. ‘Come and sit down. Remember how impressed I was by you at the Chelsea Flower Show? Think about your spectacular triumph there. Concentrate on your achievements, not your doubts. If all else fails, count your qualifications,’ he finished with dry humour. Suddenly he leaned forward until his breath was whispering right into her ear. ‘You’ve got more to be proud of than all these celebrità put together!’ he murmured. Then he squeezed her elbow, and was gone.
Meg’s mouth fell open. Could that possibly be true? Her mind reeled through everything Gianni had ever said to her. Her body had burned for him from that first meeting at Chelsea. Now she was fired up for quite another reason. She had a job to do, and it was one full of purpose. By helping Gianni push forward with his plans for the Castelfino Estate, she would be securing her own future here at the villa. She might even earn some special thanks from him…
His flattery worked. Meg walked through the banqueting hall with her head held high, full of his encouragement. As she scanned the crowds of Europe’s most influential people only one man could hold her gaze. Gianni was in his element. Tall and suave, he stood behind his chair at the centre of the fifteen-metre long dining table, chatting with everyone. Meg hungered for another taste of his skill at putting people at their ease. She could not wait to take the empty place opposite him, but the crowd in front of her moved with agonising slowness. They were more interested in the life-sized Bellini family portraits ranged around the walls. Meg had to content herself with watching Gianni from a distance as he entertained his audience like the professional he was. She didn’t have long to savour his skill. He must have felt her watching him because suddenly he stopped, and shot a smile straight at her.
‘Ladies and Gentlemen—please give a special vote of thanks to the Villa Castelfino’s head gardener—Miss Megan Imsey. On top of her usual duties, she is responsible for all the wonderful floral art you see around you tonight!’ With that, he began to clap. His audience joined in. They all turned patronising smiles on Meg as she stood in the spotlight, shimmering with nerves.
She could have died from embarrassment, but cringing wasn’t an option tonight. Gianni likes my work so much he’s telling everyone. Perhaps I’m as good as he says I am, after all! She told herself. Nailing on a broad smile, she stood up as tall as she could and flung back her shoulders. The gaggle of guests blocking her way parted like magic. That gave her the confidence to stride straight towards the table. A footman pulled out her chair as she arrived. As she sat down he took the starched napkin from her side plate. Shaking out its folds, he settled it on her lap. Gianni watched the whole performance with undisguised pleasure.
‘I said you would be the star of my show, Megan,’ he murmured.
A portly, florid-faced couple waddled up to take their seats at the table, interrupting before Meg could respond with anything more than a nervous laugh.
‘Can’t you leave the girls alone for a single minute, Gianni?’ the man wheezed cheerfully.
‘When are you going to settle down under a mountain of debt and responsibility, like us?’ the woman added as she took the seat next to Gianni. This must be the Signora Ricci whom Meg had imagined to be a teenaged supermodel. Instead, she was an elderly woman wearing inches of make-up and weighing close to twenty stone. Meg heaved a huge sigh of relief. Despite Signora Ricci’s supercilious expression, Meg gave her a particularly warm smile. Gianni cleared his throat. Always glad of an excuse to look at him, Meg glanced across the table. He fixed her with an amused smile, but the look in his eyes was penetrating. ‘Never, if I have any say in the matter!’
His expression almost took Meg’s breath away. There could be no doubt about it—he meant what he said. This was a stark reminder. Giving her a conspiratorial wink, he greeted the newcomers with his special brand of charm. Meg tried not to look. But she couldn’t help listening in to the conversation, and was soon overwhelmed with a mixture of shock and admiration. Gianni could make all his words sound as convincing as his flirtation. She had to admire him for it. If only she could charm people so easily! She might have bounced Imsey’s Plant Centre out of trouble in minutes, rather than months. That would have left her free to concentrate on her own career. She could have taken that job with the royal family…but then, if she had done that, maybe she would never have met Gianni…
‘Aren’t you going to introduce your latest “friend” to us properly, Gianni?’ Signora Ricci boomed suddenly. She refused to be deflected from inspecting Meg, and looked at her as though she were something usually found in a
