standards any more?’ she said, giving him a hardened look. ‘What a lucky escape you had in calling off our wedding. It wouldn’t suit your image to be married to a frump, now, would it?’
Another heavy frown appeared between his brows. ‘You misunderstand me,’ he said. ‘I was simply commenting on your pallor, not your lack of beauty. You are still one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen.’
It was amazing how easily cynicism came to Gisele now. In the past she would have blushed and felt incredibly flattered by such a compliment. Now all she felt was a simmering fury that he was trying to charm her into forgiving him. He was wasting his time and hers. Forgiveness was a word she had long ago deleted from her vocabulary.
She walked over to the shop service counter and barricaded herself behind it. ‘You can save your shallow compliments for someone who will believe them enough to fall into your bed,’ she said. ‘It’s not going to work with me.’
‘Is that why you think I am here?’ he asked.
Gisele felt herself being swallowed by that charcoal-black unreadable gaze. The air seemed to be charged with an erotic energy she had no control over. Her hands gripped the edge of the counter for support, her heart beating too hard and too fast as his hooded gaze slipped to her mouth.
She held her breath in that infinitesimal moment as his gaze rested on her lips.
His gaze was like a touch. It burned her with its intent. She felt the tingle of her lips as if he had reached across the counter and pressed his mouth to hers …
But her best friend cynicism came to her rescue just in time. ‘I think you are here to clear your conscience,’ she said. ‘You’re not here because of me. You’re here because of you.’
His expression gave no clue to what was going on behind the screen of his dark eyes, but a tiny nerve twitched at the edge of his mouth as if it were being tugged by an invisible needle and thread.
It seemed a very long time before he spoke.
‘I am here for both of us,’ he said. ‘I want to wipe the slate clean. Neither of us can truly move on with our lives with this lying like a festering sore between us.’
Gisele put up her chin with cool hauteur. ‘I have moved on with my life,’ she said.
His eyes challenged hers for endless seconds, but when he finally spoke his voice was gruff. ‘Have you, cara? Have you really?’
Was it his unexpectedly gentle tone or his use of an all too familiar endearment that made her throat suddenly close over as if someone had gripped it and cruelly squeezed? She blinked against the sting of tears, once, twice, three times before she was confident they were not going to break through. ‘Of course,’ she said coldly. ‘Or would you rather I said I’d been pining for you forlornly ever since you cut me from your life?’
‘That would indeed be a punishment I would not like to have inflicted on me,’ he said with a rueful movement of his lips. ‘It would make the guilt I feel all the harder to bear.’
Gisele looked at him standing there, so tall, so assured, the master of all he controlled. Was he really feeling guilty or just annoyed at being wrong for once in his life? He was a fiercely proud man. She had met no one prouder or more stubborn. ‘You can sleep easy, Emilio,’ she said. ‘After the way you treated me I put you out of my mind as soon as I stepped off the plane. I haven’t thought of you in months.’
He held her look for a heartbeat longer than she would have liked. ‘I’ll be in town for the rest of the week,’ he said, handing her a business card. ‘If you change your mind about meeting with me, please feel free to call me at any time.’
Gisele took the silver-embossed card with a hand that trembled slightly as it came in contact with his. She curled her fingers around the card until its edges bit into her palm. ‘I won’t change my mind,’ she said with steely determination wrapped around each and every word.
She waited until he had left before she let out her breath in a long ragged stream. She looked at the card she had crushed in her hand. A sharp corner had broken the skin of her palm; a very timely reminder that if she allowed Emilio Andreoni too close again she would be the only one to get hurt.
CHAPTER TWO
A COUPLE of days later Gisele received a visit from her landlord, Keith Patterson. For a heart-stopping moment she wondered if she had somehow overlooked paying her rent, but then she remembered she had seen the electronic transfer of the funds on her accounts profile page only the week before.
‘I know this is short notice, Miss Carter,’ Keith said after the usual polite exchange of greetings, ‘but I’ve decided to sell the building to a developer. I got an offer too good to refuse. The wife and I lost a fair bit in the global financial crisis and we need to refinance ourselves for our retirement. This offer couldn’t have come at a better time.’
Gisele blinked at him in alarm. While her profit turnover was good and her bank overdraft manageable, finding other premises would no doubt involve a rise in rent. She didn’t want to overstretch herself, especially as she had only recently employed an assistant. So many small businesses folded due to having too many overheads and not enough income. She didn’t want to become another statistic of economic disaster. ‘Does that mean I have to move out?’ she asked.
‘That will depend on the new owner,’ Keith said. ‘He’ll have to get council approval before he does any alterations. That could take weeks or a couple of months. He gave me his card for you to contact him to discuss the lease.’ He handed her a silver-embossed card across the counter.
Gisele’s heart dropped like a stone inside her chest even before she saw the name on the card. ‘Emilio Andreoni bought the building?’ she asked in a shocked gasp.
‘You’ve heard of him?’ Keith asked.
She felt her face grow warm. ‘Yes … I’ve heard of him,’ she said. ‘But he’s an architect, not a property developer.’
‘Maybe he’s diversifying his interests,’ Keith said. ‘I’ve heard he’s won numerous awards for his designs. He seemed mighty keen to buy the place.’
‘Did he give you a reason for his enthusiasm?’ Gisele asked, boiling with anger inside.
‘Yes, he said it held sentimental value,’ Keith said. ‘Maybe a relative of his owned it in the past. Some Italians used to have a fruit shop here in the fifties. I can’t remember their name.’
Gisele ground her teeth. Sentimental value indeed! She knew for a fact Emilio had no living relatives, or at least none he wanted to associate with. He had told her very little about his background, but she sensed it hadn’t been much like hers. She had often wondered if that was another reason he had wanted to marry her. Her blue-blooded pedigree had appealed to him. How ironic that it turned out she and her twin were the products of an illicit affair their father had had with a housekeeper while he and his wife were living in London.
Once Keith Patterson had gone Gisele looked at the business card lying on the counter. She drummed her fingers on the glass surface, her teeth almost going to powder as she considered her options. She could tear up the card into tiny little pieces as she had a couple of days ago, or she could call the mobile number on it and arrange a showdown. If she tore up the card he would surely come in to see
