sat and looked out of the window later that day, chewing on the end of her pencil as she took in the glorious view of the gardens. There was a wisteria climbing rampantly over an arbour, and even though the pendulous blooms of spring had mostly fallen there were still one or two, the scent so strong she could smell it through the open window. It was such an inspiring place to be, far better than any hotel she had envisaged staying in. Already she had drawn several designs for gowns that reflected the old-world glamour of the villa. She could imagine soirées here in the past, people spilling out into the colourful and fragrant garden, the champagne flowing, a string quartet playing, perhaps a few couples dancing. It was such a romantic setting, perfect for falling in love.
She dropped the pencil onto the little desk and sat up straight in her chair. There was no way she was going to fall in love, not with Alessandro. He seemed incapable of the depth of emotion it took for a relationship to survive. His feelings were private, off limits, not to be examined. Had she been the one to do that to him? Had her immaturity and selfishness shut him down for good? If so, what could she do to repair the damage she had caused?
RACHEL was putting the finishing touches to the table in the formal dining room when she heard the sound of the lift being activated. She felt her breath stall momentarily and her skin tingle with alertness.
She stepped back from the table, smoothing her hair back with a hand that wasn’t quite steady. She had dressed in one of her own designs, a long silver gown that had hundreds of hand-stitched Swarovski crystals over the bodice. She wasn’t sure why she had gone to so much trouble. The occasion hardly called for it, but the magnificence of the villa and its atmosphere made her feel as if every dinner here should be an important event.
Alessandro appeared at the doorway, not in his wheelchair this time, but leaning on a pair of crutches.
‘You’re walking!’ Rachel said in surprise.
‘You could call it that,’ he said with a wry look.
‘I think it’s wonderful,’ she said. ‘All your hard work is starting to pay off.’
‘Yes.’ He was silent for a moment as his gaze took in her appearance. ‘You look very beautiful this evening,’ he said.
She felt her cheeks glow from his compliment and lowered her gaze. ‘Thank you.’
‘But I wonder if I should eat what you have prepared for me,’ he added.
Rachel looked at him in confusion. ‘Why do you say that?’
He gave her a look that was rueful. ‘I was rather brusque with you earlier today. I thought perhaps as a consequence of my behaviour I should be concerned about you lacing my food with something poisonous.’
Rachel held his gaze. ‘The only thing I have on hand to poison you with is my tongue.’
He smiled in amusement, the action completely transforming his features. Rachel felt a kick in her belly, a jerky reminder that she was in no way immune to him when he chose to lay on the charm.
‘Then I will have to stay well away from your tongue, won’t I?’ he said with a glint in his eye.
She held that look for as long as she dared. ‘Yes, you will,’ she said but her voice came out husky and soft, nothing like she had intended.
He shifted his gaze and brought himself closer to the table using the crutches. It was clearly an effort for him but she stood back, reluctant to offer help in case he was annoyed or misread it as pity.
‘Thank you,’ he said once he was seated at the table.
‘For what?’ Rachel asked.
‘For not treating me like an invalid.’
‘But you’re not an invalid,’ she said. ‘You’ve already made amazing progress in the short time I’ve been here. I don’t think it will be long before you’re totally recovered.’
There was a little silence.
‘How did you do it last night?’ Rachel asked.
‘How did I do what?’
‘How did you get to the table without assistance?’ she asked. ‘I didn’t see your chair anywhere or the crutches.’
‘I can walk short distances by using the furniture as a support,’ he said. ‘I left the chair out of sight until you had gone upstairs.’
‘Why did you leave it until last night to reveal your condition?’
He studied her for a long moment. ‘I wanted to make sure you were committed to staying here for the money, not out of pity.’
Rachel frowned at him. ‘You’d prefer me to be here just for the money instead of out of compassion?’
‘I knew I could count on your desire for money.’
She took her seat, a frown still pulling at her brow. His opinion of her was appalling but no more than she deserved given her treatment of him in the past. How could she redeem herself? She needed the money. She couldn’t walk away from the deal even if she wanted to for her pride’s sake.
He looked at her with an inscrutable expression. ‘That dress you’re wearing. Is it one of your own designs?’
Rachel slid her hands down the sides of her dress. ‘This old thing?’ she quipped. ‘It’s just something I whipped up one afternoon when I had nothing better to do.’
‘So you sew as well as design?’ he asked.
‘Yes, of course. It’s how I got started. I played around with making my own stuff and then I found people would stop me in the street or at a function I was attending and ask me where I got my dress. I decided I had something to offer so I went to design school. That’s where I met my friend Caitlyn. We decided to join forces. But I feel I’ve let her down …’ She bit her lip. ‘She invested a lot of money in getting us up and running, much more than I did. I was left a little short … well,
I won’t bore you with the details but things were not looking that good for me after I ended things with Craig. There wasn’t a lending institution that would even give me an interview, let alone a loan.’
He sat looking at her, still with that unreadable expression cloaking his thoughts and feelings.
The silence went on and on and on.
Rachel shifted her weight and waved a hand in the direction of the kitchen. ‘I guess I should serve up the first course …’
‘So what have you decided?’ he asked.
She glanced at the document he had set by his place setting. ‘I think you already know I have no choice but to accept your conditions,’ she said.
‘Think of it this way,’ he said, handing her the papers and a pen. ‘Your relationship with me will be the shortest of any I have had so far, less than a month.’
Rachel
