style="font-size:15px;"> ‘I wanted to make a success of my life on my own terms…’ she said with difficulty.
‘I can relate to that.’
His reply held such feeling Meg instantly needed to know more. Before she could ask, Gianni launched a list of instructions at her for starting his car and coaxing it toward the road.
She didn’t have a hope. It was her very first driving lesson all over again, scary and embarrassing all at once. She clung onto the leather bound steering wheel in grim determination as they kangaroo-hopped down the drive. That was more than Gianni could bear. After thirty seconds he slapped both hands down on the dashboard.
‘No, no—stop!’
Meg was so relieved, her emergency stop would have passed any driving test with distinction. Gianni jumped out the second she braked. Rounding the bonnet at high speed, he opened the driver’s door for her to get out.
‘I’ll get my office to arrange a few driving lessons to get you used to the local conditions, and then organize a car for you.’ He said succinctly as he slipped into the driving seat.
Meg walked around and got in beside him. He was already caressing the steering wheel with both hands. Meg thought nothing of it, imagining he was waiting for her to fasten her seat belt, but he continued for some seconds after she was settled. Then he did all the things he had told her to do, faultlessly and in exactly the right order.
‘Have I done any damage?’ she risked as the upholstery surged forward against the small of her back.
‘Only to my nerves.’ Gianni glanced at her before checking his rear-view mirror. ‘Cars are like women. They must be treated with care and respect.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said in a small voice. ‘I’ll pay for anything that needs to be fixed.’
He laughed, loosening up as his Ferrari hit the autostrada. ‘I think working for the Bellini family will extract a high enough price!’
‘I liked your father. He was a good employer,’ Meg said, filling every word with meaning.
‘And you’re hoping I’ll carry on the family tradition, bambola?’ Gianni slipped the words slyly across at her. ‘I doubt that. I’m entirely different from my father. For one thing, he had been desperate to marry. It turned out to be the worst mistake he ever made, and I’ve learned from it. When my mother died in childbirth it was the ultimate irony. The whole experience damaged him so badly he spent thirty years licking his wounds. I intend to take my time choosing a bride. Not for me the flighty socialite, ready to bleed me dry in the name of marriage,’ he finished darkly.
‘I think you’re very wise.’
‘Really?’ he drawled, grinning across the car’s interior at her. ‘And is that the only reason you accepted this lift? It wouldn’t be because you were thinking of renegotiating your terms of employment, would it?’
The look he gave Meg then told her exactly what he meant by that. His mind, like hers, was savouring their kiss all over again. The warmth of his expression spoke to the deepest, darkest parts of her. She reacted with a furious blush, and the knowledge that she would never be free from the temptation of Gianni for as long as she lived.
‘While I’m living at the Villa Castelfino, I’m not remotely interested in anything other than work,’ she announced, being careful to stare at the countryside rather than look at him. ‘When I mentioned about getting paid for turning up ready for work you looked at me as though I was a gold digger. What illusions could I possibly have about a man who treats an employee like that on her first day?’
The taboo subject of money had been mentioned again. Every muscle in Meg’s body tensed. For an awful minute she thought Gianni might throw her out of the car for being hard-hearted and interested only in her bank balance. When he didn’t, she began pulling her fingers through the wind-whipped tangle of her hair. It was easier to worry about her appearance than to apologise.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Gianni shrug. ‘It’s a shame more women don’t think like you do. All the girls I meet are out for everything they can get. I’m definitely not looking for the same kind of woman who ruined my father’s life, and mine. So far, I’ve been proud to say I’m not the marrying kind.’
‘I hope you never used that phrase on any woman when you lived in England. It has a meaning there you wouldn’t like,’ Meg warned.
He winced. ‘Of course I didn’t. In any case, once a woman is with me, she knows I’m one hundred per cent male.’
At that moment he turned another unmistakeable look on her. It was rich with lingering meaning. Meg had to fight the urge to reach right out and touch him. Then she saw the juggernaut thundering towards them and snatched at her seat instead.
‘Gianni! Look out!’
’Inferno, woman! Do you think I would risk an accident now? In my new car, I mean?’ he added quickly, before she could read any more temptation in his words.
Gianni was careful to drop her off at the nearest possible point to the first shop on her list. Ignoring all the blaring horns around them, he parked his car, got out and opened the passenger door for her.
‘How much would you like for a tip?’ she asked mischievously as she unfolded herself from the front seat.
‘I’ll let you have it on account.’
Meg’s heart almost stopped as she saw his watchful expression. When he caught up her hand and kissed it, she was speechless. If he hadn’t leapt straight back into his car and roared away, she would have thrown herself into his arms then and there. Breathless with amazement, she stood on the pavement and stared, long after his car had turned a corner and disappeared from view. An afternoon off to take her pick of clothes from some of the world’s most decadent shops was one thing. For Gianni to kiss her hand the same way he had done at Chelsea was a dream beyond anything Meg had ever imagined. She felt inches taller, and even began to look forward to her shopping expedition. The man was a miracle worker.
Meg usually looked on shopping as a torture. This was a different outing altogether. Today she was under Gianni’s instructions to buy something she really liked, while he picked up the bill. She usually bustled through crowds, head down and hurrying. Today she strolled, taking time to enjoy her afternoon off in the sun. The touch of his lips still tingled on her fingers. Only one tiny cloud lingered on her horizon. It was the thought of what embarrassments might lay in wait for her inside the beautiful shops she would be visiting.
It took her quite some time to pluck up the courage to put her hand to the door of the first boutique on her list. After that, things happened in such a blur she didn’t have time to lose her nerve. The door flew open as a tall, stick-thin woman decorated with twenty-four carat jewellery strode out. Meg was bundled aside in the rush but a voice from inside the shop was quick to apologise.
‘Miss Imsey?’
She looked up in amazement to see an exquisitely turned out Florentine matron holding the door open for her.
‘H-how did you know it was me?’ Meg stammered.
‘The Count di Castelfino himself rang to tell us to expect you. Now come inside out of this heat!’
Meg
