the title for a minute. The whole kitchen staff fell for it.’ She finished with a nervous little laugh.
To her amazement Gianni’s devastating smile burst into life, but he was careful to quash it almost straight away.
‘That’s what I call insight. A girl who shows insight and initiative? You’ll go far, ragazza insolente!’
Tiny muscles quivered all around his lips. Meg could see he was trying not to laugh. What made it worse was that he knew she knew. It wasn’t the sort of position she wanted to put her new boss in. Especially when that boss was Gianni Bellini, a man guaranteed to have any girl he wanted.
Dutifully, she looked down at the grass again to hide her own smile, but wasn’t about to stifle her ambition.
‘I already have, signor,’ she said, careful to hide any hint of humour. ‘I graduated top of my intake, I saved my parents’ business from ruin, then I landed the top job here. And I haven’t finished yet.’
‘I’m beginning to realise that,’ he said quietly. ‘So, Miss Curator of Exotic Plants—what are your plans for my new garden?’
Meg sensed he was trying to lighten the tone. Despite the twinkle in his eyes, she decided to tread carefully until she was certain where she stood with him.
‘I’m here to implement the old count’s plans, not my own,’ she said carefully. ‘At the moment, his collection of tropical plants is restricted to that old lemon house at the far end of the kitchen garden. They were all going to be moved and the collection expanded into this new glasshouse range as soon as it was finished.’
She began walking off toward a long, low building set against a distant wall. Gianni did not follow her immediately. When he did, he lingered a few steps behind.
‘Am I walking too fast for you, Gianni?’
‘Not at all,’ he said airily. ‘It’s a beautiful day, and I have a beautiful view. Why hurry?’
She looked back over her shoulder and realised what he was watching.
‘Signor!’
‘I’ve told you before—my name is Gianni.’
‘Not when you’re looking at my bottom like that, it isn’t,’ Meg said, desperately reminding herself how many plants he had bought from her stand at the Chelsea Flower Show. He had done it to keep all the women in his life happy. She had no intention of becoming one among many. Even though her limbs turned to water whenever he looked at her in that deep, meaningful way…
The original lemon house had been built with an open front. Later on, its graceful stone arches had been glazed to create a greenhouse. Meg opened the door on its riot of damp, lush leaves and exotic flowers.
‘Isn’t this wonderful?’ She took in a leisurely lungful of the warm, moist air. It was rich with the fragrance of bark and tropical flowers.
‘As a twenty-first century woman, I hope you’re being ironic,’ Gianni observed drily, following her into the building. ‘Keeping these plants in luxury must cost the earth, both in money and resources. Air conditioning isn’t in vogue, Megan—especially for flowers,’ he finished severely.
‘Oh, I know it’s extravagant and old fashioned.’ Meg ran her hand lovingly over one of the crumbling stone pillars. ‘That’s why the count wanted me to build him a dedicated range of greenhouses, to give his plants ideal growing conditions. That means computer-controlled atmospheres. He wanted to include the latest equipment and ideas, so that everything will be perfect. He intended his estate to be a showcase. His idea was that this part of the Val di Castelfino should become an extra special tourist attraction, and an example of best practice.’
‘How does this steam-filled white elephant qualify?’ Gianni was haughty. ‘Had my father never heard of climate change? I’m surprised someone as well qualified as you didn’t put him right, Megan. My father always lived in the past. An educated woman like you must be well briefed in all the drawbacks.’
Meg knew it wasn’t her place to comment, but a point of honour was at stake. She tried to pin a bold stare on him, but it was difficult when he could out-stare her so easily. ‘You don’t seem impressed by my qualifications, signor.’
Though outwardly calm, she was trembling too much to say any more. His penetrating gaze made her too light headed for words. Instead she raised her eyebrows, simply inviting more comment.
‘In my experience, the more exam success someone has, the less likely they are to get their hands dirty. I’d rather someone had worked their way to the top of the tree, in the same way I’ve done.’
‘With no help from your family name, your position in life or your father?’
There was an ironic lilt in Meg’s voice. She regretted it instantly, but Gianni hardly seemed to notice.
‘Exactly!’ He dropped one hand onto the greenhouse staging with a resounding thump. ‘The Castelfino vineyard is my baby, from conception right through to international prize-winning status. I’ve earned every penny—there’s no job on the land I’m not happy to do myself, and I’ve never had a cent from my father. As you must know,’ he finished gruffly.
‘I never discussed you with the late count, Gianni. I had no idea you were related to him until a few hours ago, remember.’
His eyes narrowed into channels of suspicion. ‘You mean to say he never complained to you about the way I only wanted money spent on cost-effective projects, not his hobbies? I’ve been studying the work you did for him. All of it—and that includes the dummy sets of figures forwarded to my accountants. Do you deny that they were prepared to stop me discovering exactly how much money my father was frittering away on this…this…?’ Exasperated, he waved his hand towards the exotic display of orchids and coloured foliage.
‘It was all perfectly legal. The late count’s own financial advisors always submitted the correct figures for audit. It was thought you would object to his budget, so he had a separate set made up in case you wanted to inspect them. We didn’t want to worry you, that’s all.’ Meg threw up her head to challenge him with a glare, but something happened. Their eyes met, and for Meg it was the point of no return. She had always thought Gianni was stunning. Now, with the sun lighting a bronze shimmer in his devastating eyes, words didn’t do him justice. The breath caught in her throat, stifling all sound. He knew only too well what power lay behind his eyes. As she watched he lowered his lids a fraction, tempting an unconscious sound to escape from her all too self-conscious lips.
‘I hope my father didn’t lead you to believe that I’m mean.’ Gianni’s voice was a drawl, as lazy as the air moving through the lemon house. ‘On the contrary: I can be the most generous of men if the circumstances—and the woman—are right,’ he said, leaving the suggestion in his final words hanging in the air.
‘I know. When you were in London I supplied you with all those flowers for your girlfriends, remember?’ Meg breathed, trying to keep her voice steady. She was getting dizzy, but it wasn’t only the lack of oxygen. The nearness of Gianni in this small, sun-soaked space sent her senses reeling. The light citrus fragrance of his aftershave was so clean and fresh in an atmosphere charged with the heavy hints of bark and mosses. It sent a charge of electricity fizzing down her spine. Without realising it she moved slightly towards him, hungry for contact.
‘Then
