Meg began, but it was hopeless. He had moved on. Guests began reclaiming the dance floor. Soon she was enveloped by a tide of couples. They all smiled and nodded knowingly at her, as though she were a marked woman from that moment on. As the band played on Meg forced herself to walk steadily away from the dance floor, head held high. Gianni might have taken her to paradise, but she could not afford to have her head in the clouds. No good ever came of mixing work with pleasure. As a student her studies had faltered when she had allowed Gavin to distract her. She was not going to make the same mistake again. She couldn’t afford to—in any sense of the word. This was the best job anyone in her position could wish for. And it has the best employer too, she thought wistfully, before she could think of a more politically correct reason. I can’t afford to mess up this one chance of making a success in a job that really matters to me.
The rest of Meg’s evening passed in an agony of suspense. Simmering with the promise Gianni had shown her, she was petrified the guests might notice something. She felt feverish. Catching sight of a reflection in one of the huge antique mirrors set around the summer dining hall, it was a few seconds before she recognised herself. She was used to seeing a dowdy little country mouse peering back at her. Tonight she saw quite a different creature. Her new dress and high heels made her look tall and sleek, but they were only window dressing. Meg had blossomed to complement their designer chic. Her eyes were large and luminous, her cheeks flushed and her hair coiled around her shoulders with a life of its own.
Gianni looked as though he didn’t have a care in the world. Cool and composed, he was totally absorbed by his guests. None of them was in any hurry to leave such a brilliant gathering, and he showed no signs of evicting them. Brought to fever pitch and now abandoned, Meg grew increasingly restless. Finally, she couldn’t stand it any longer. If he was so busy with his guests, he obviously wasn’t that bothered about her. In a flurry of indignation she set off towards the door. She had taken no more than three determined steps when Gianni appeared from nowhere and put a hand on her arm.
‘And where do you think you’re going, mio tesoro?’
His dark brows were raised. No answer was needed. The touch of his fingers on her sleeve was light, but inescapable. ‘None of my staff leaves before I dismiss them personally. Your time has not yet come, Megan. You are going to show me around your famous greenhouses, remember?’
She hesitated, not knowing what to think. How could he talk about work when he must know how her mind, body and soul ached for his touch?
‘If you insist,’ she said, but any attempt at dignity was completely foiled by what Gianni did next. His fingers closed on her. Then he slid his hand down her arm until he could grip her hand. He held it for half a heartbeat. In those blissful seconds she was touched by unmistakeable promise, and then released. This was going to be no ordinary meeting between employer and employee.
Gianni took his time in saying goodnight to his guests. He knew he could afford to. Megan Imsey was so hot for him. He wanted to savour the sweet anticipation of her supple little body for as long as possible. As the crowds thinned he began dismissing his staff. Finally, when the night shift moved in to clear away the remains of the dinner, Gianni strolled over to one of the refreshment tables. There he poured two espressos. Meg had been shadowing him closer by the minute. Turning, he held one cup of coffee out to her. The look on her face told him all he wanted to know. Sleeping with her was simply a matter of time. It was entirely up to him when, where and how. That feeling of power was unbeatable. His body hardened with delight, and he smiled. Megan was a smart girl. He had absolutely no doubt she would agree to his terms. He foresaw no trouble at all. Hadn’t she told him on her first day that she was only interested in getting paid? That direct approach deserved respect, of a sort. Gianni knew exactly where he stood with women like that. His mother had been a good teacher in that way.
Meg would be all over him from the moment he made his move. Women always were, but the divine Miss Imsey represented something a little different. He watched her concentrating on her tiny cup of coffee. If he hadn’t been so practised in the art of seduction he would have thought she was shy. Instead, he identified only the sly upward glances of an experienced seductress, and sighed. Women never gave him a moment’s peace. The only respite he’d ever had in the presence of a beautiful woman was Meg’s excitement when she talked about those blasted greenhouses. She was as bad as his father had been in that respect. Gianni felt many emotions when thinking about his late father, but pity was the only one he could put into words. He had spent too much time trying to avoid his father’s fate to feel anything more. He played the field, determined never to risk falling in love with a woman. Love had driven the old count to live the life of a virtual recluse for nearly thirty years. No way was Gianni going to allow himself to be bewitched like that.
He reached out and pulled an alpine strawberry from one of the floral decorations lined along the refreshment table. A tiny bud hung against the rosy cheek of the ripe fruit. Its stem was as fine as embroidery thread. Scrutinising it with the air of an expert, he saw a perfect flower in miniature, severed from its parent too early. It would never get the chance to flourish and fulfil its promise now. He held it out to Meg.
She shook her head. ‘There weren’t many ripe fruits available—you have it.’
‘No. I’ve had my fill of perfection. This strawberry may taste as good as it looks, but that isn’t always the way,’ he said at last, thinking back over his life. ‘It’s yours.’
He raised the berry to Meg’s lips. Obediently, she bit into it. The effect was magical. It was softly, sweetly, fragrant, and everything a strawberry should be. She sighed.
‘I can’t believe anything could be better than that.’
Gianni felt seduction warming his smile. Unwilling to betray everything that was going through his mind, he soon put a stop to it.
‘Oh, no? But I have a second treat in store for you, cara. Don’t say you’ve forgotten?’
Everything about his voice told her he was no longer talking about fruit. In a visible agony of anticipation, Meg waited. Gianni began to stroll away, throwing her a few words over his shoulder.
‘Come on, Eve. Let’s go and find your Garden of Eden.’
The gardens around the Villa Castelfino were a magical place at night. Lanterns fuelled with perfumed wax had been hung from every tree. In their soft light the flowers Meg tended so carefully took on an ethereal quality. Airy canopies of verbena and tobacco plants shimmered in the gloom. As Gianni led her into the new greenhouse complex their shadows danced in the light cast by thousands of fairy lights threaded through the plants. Without realising what she was doing, Meg pressed a button to override the ventilation system and put on some more air.
‘I didn’t bring you out here to work,’ Gianni said severely. ‘My father’s plans showed fully automatic systems throughout this entire crystal palace.’
‘In my opinion there’s no substitute for the human touch.’
She spoke without thinking, and instantly wondered if he would pick up on her words. When he said nothing, she began talking quickly to fill the silence. ‘What do you think of your father’s memorial? You need the proper greenhouse lighting to appreciate the plants. I’ll switch it on, and turn these coloured ones off—’
‘No—stop. The effect is perfect for what I have to say, Megan.’
She was already walking on into the first bay of the greenhouse. Gianni followed her. She stopped. He came to a halt only when he was close enough for his breath to ruffle the crown of her head.
‘I
