eligible bachelors,’ she observed quietly. ‘And Matteo will expect people to stare at you.’
Keira felt a shimmer of anxiety as she tugged a blue cashmere dress over her head and pulled on some navy-blue suede boots. What possible response could she make to that? What would the stunning Leola say if she explained that she and Matteo weren’t ‘dating’, but simply parents to a darling little boy? And even that wasn’t really accurate, was it? You couldn’t really describe a man as a parent when he regarded his newborn infant with the caution which an army expert might display towards an unexploded bomb.
Just go with the flow, she told herself. Be amenable and do what’s suggested—and after you’ve been dressed up like a Christmas turkey, you can sit down with the Italian tycoon and talk seriously about the future.
She tried on hip-hugging skirts with filmy blouses, flirty little day dresses and sinuous evening gowns, and Keira was reeling by the time Leola had finished with her. She wanted to protest that there was no way she would wear most of these—that she and Matteo hadn’t even discussed how long she would be staying—but Leola seemed to be acting on someone else’s orders and it wasn’t difficult to work out whose orders they might be.
‘I will have new lingerie and more shoes sent by courier to arrive later,’ the stylist explained, ‘since I understand you’re returning to Umbria tomorrow. But you certainly have enough to be going on with. Might I suggest you wear the red dress this evening? Matteo was very specific about how good he thought you would look in vibrant colours. Oh, and a make-up artist will be visiting the house later this afternoon. She will also be able to fix your hair.’
Keira stared at the slippery gown of silk-satin which was being dangled from Leola’s finger and shook her head. ‘I can do my own hair,’ she said defensively, wondering if dressing up in all this finery was what Matteo usually expected for dinner at home on a weekday evening. ‘And I can’t possibly wear that—it’s much too revealing.’
‘Yes, you can—and you must—because you look amazing in it,’ said Leola firmly, before her voice softened a little. ‘Matteo must care for you a great deal to go to so much trouble. And surely it would be unwise to displease him when he’s gone to so much trouble.’
It was a candid remark which contained in it a trace of warning. It was one woman saying to another—don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. But all it did was to increase Keira’s sensation of someone playing dress-up. Of being moulded for a role in the billionaire’s life which she wasn’t sure she was capable of filling. Her heart was pounding nervously as she shook the stylist’s hand and went outside to the waiting car.
And didn’t she feel slightly ashamed at the ease with which she allowed the chauffeur to open the door for her as she slid onto the squishy comfort of the back seat? As if already she was turning into someone she didn’t recognise.
THE CLOCK WAS striking seven and Matteo gave a click of impatience as he paced the drawing room, where an enormous fire crackled and burned. Where the hell was she? He didn’t like to be kept waiting—not by anyone, and especially not by a woman who ought to have been bang on time and full of gratitude for his generosity towards her. He wondered how long it would have taken Keira to discover how much she liked trying on lavish clothes. Or how quickly she’d decided it was a turn-on when a man was prepared to buy you an entire new wardrobe, with no expense spared. He was just about to send Roberto upstairs to remind her of the time, when the door opened and there she stood, pale-faced and slightly uncertain.
Matteo’s heart pounded hard in his chest because she looked... He shook his head slightly as if to clear his vision, but the image didn’t alter. She looked unrecognisable. Light curls of glossy black tumbled over her narrow shoulders and, with mascara and eyeliner, her sapphire eyes looked enormous. Her lips were as red as her dress and he found himself wanting to kiss away her unfamiliar lipstick. But it was her body which commanded the most attention. Santo cielo! What a body! Scarlet silk clung to the creamy curve of her breasts, the material gliding in over the indentation of her waist, then flaring gently over her hips. Sheer stockings encased her legs and skyscraper heels meant she looked much taller than usual.
He swallowed because the transformation was exactly what he’d wanted—a woman on his arm who would turn heads for all the right reasons—and yet now he was left with intense frustration pulsing through his veins. He wanted to call their host and cancel and to take her straight to bed instead, but he was aware that such a move would be unwise. He had less than twenty-four hours to get Keira Ryan to agree to his plan—and that would not be achieved by putting lust before logic.
‘You look...beautiful,’ he said unsteadily, noticing how pink her cheeks had grown in response to his compliment, and he was reminded once again of her innocence and inexperience.
She tugged at the skirt of the dress as if trying to lengthen it. ‘I feel a bit underdressed, to be honest.’
He shook his head. ‘If that were the case then I certainly wouldn’t let you leave the house.’
She raised her eyebrows. ‘What, you mean you’d keep me here by force? Prisoner of the Italian tycoon?’
He smiled. ‘I’ve always found persuasion to be far more effective than force. I assume Leola organised a suitable coat for you to wear?’
‘A coat?’ She stared at him blankly.
‘It’s November, Keira, and we’re going to a party in the city. It might be warmer than back in England, but you’ll still need to wrap up.’
Keira’s stomach did a flip. ‘You didn’t mention a party.’
‘Didn’t I? Well, I’m mentioning it now.’
She gave the dress another tug. ‘Whose party is it?’
‘An old friend of mine. Salvatore di Luca. It’s his birthday—and it will be the perfect opportunity for you to meet people. It would be a pity for you not to have an audience when you look so very dazzling.’ His gaze travelled over her and his voice thickened. ‘So why not go and get your coat? The car’s waiting.’
Keira felt nerves wash over her. She was tempted to tell him she’d rather stay home and eat a panino in front of the fire, instead of having to face a roomful of strangers—but she was afraid of coming over as some kind of social misfit. Was this some strange kind of interview to assess whether or not she would be up to the task of being Matteo’s partner? To see if she was capable of making conversation with his wealthy friends, of getting through a whole evening without dropping a canapé down the front of her dress?
Her black velvet swing coat was lined with softest cashmere and Keira hugged it around herself as the driver opened the door of the waiting limousine, her heart missing a beat as Matteo slid onto the seat beside her. His potent masculinity was almost as distracting as the dark suit which fitted his muscular body to perfection and made him look like some kind of movie star on his way to an awards ceremony. ‘You aren’t driving, then?’ she observed.
‘Not tonight. I have a few calls I need to make.’ His black eyes gleamed. ‘After that I’m exclusively yours.’
The way he said it sent ripples of excitement whispering over her skin and she wondered if that had been deliberate. But there was apprehension too because Keira wasn’t sure she would be able to cope with the full blaze of his undivided attention. Not when he was being
