Powerful Persuasion

‘Then I will tell her myself,’ she declared firmly, and took a step back towards the door.

‘Oh, no, you won’t.’ Luciano grasped her arm and forcibly led her away from his great-grandmother’s apartment, and he did not stop until he reached the privacy of a book-filled study on the ground floor. There he sat her down on a burgundy leather chesterfield and his expression was utterly ruthless as he stood over her. ‘I want my whole family to accept that you are my girlfriend.’

Celena stilled. ‘This isn’t accidental, is it?’ she asked in a frozen whisper. ‘You’ve set me up. The job was nothing more than a decoy.’ She had expected something, had known he would not pay her such a high salary for nothing—but she had certainly never anticipated being put into such an uncomfortable and undesirable position.

‘I wouldn’t exactly say that,’ he said, still with the same implacable expression on his face. ‘You’re already an asset to the team—a very valuable asset. This is just some little thing I want you to do for me.’

‘Little?’ she queried tartly. ‘I don’t call living a lie a little thing. It’s outrageous; I absolutely refuse.’

‘You would hurt my great-grandmamma?’ he asked, and managed to sound astonished. ‘As you said yourself, the shock of discovering what I am trying to do would very likely finish her off. It was purely to make an old woman very happy that I came up with this idea.

‘But why me?’ she asked tightly.

‘Because—’ he sat down beside her and attempted to take her hands into his, but Celena snatched angrily away ‘—because of your likeness to Simone,’ he said. ‘It’s uncanny.’

‘The girl in the photograph?’

‘Yes.’

‘The girl you didn’t want to talk about?’

‘The very same.’

‘I think I deserve an explanation,’ said Celena, her chin high, her eyes cold.

He was quiet for a moment and then said softly, ‘Six months ago I thought I was in love with Simone; she was everything I wanted in a woman—beautiful, kind, loving. I’d had girlfriends on and off over the years, naturally, but Simone was someone special.’

‘So what happened?’

His eyes turned black—deep, empty pits that echoed a pain he kept deep in his heart. ‘I slowly began to realise that I was wrong about her, that she was shallow and selfish and nothing like the girl I’d imagined her to be. But it was not until she ditched me for a man even richer than myself—an older man—much older—’ his lips twisted in disgust ‘—that I knew I’d been conned. She was yet another fortune-hunter—and I’ve had my fair share of those. A very clever one, a very talented lady. It certainly taught me a thing or two. I shall most definitely never fall in love again. I intend to remain a bachelor to the end of my days.’

‘You had a rough time,’ agreed Celena, privately thinking that he must have been a fool not to see through this woman, ‘but I still don’t understand why I should masquerade as Simone. What’s wrong with telling your family the truth?’

‘Because,’ he said slowly, ‘they are expecting you.’

CHAPTER THREE

‘EXPECTING me?’ squeaked Celena. ‘I don’t understand.’

Luciano’s mouth twisted wryly. ‘I’d already told them I’d met a wonderful girl, and obviously they expected me to bring her on this visit. I couldn’t possibly let my bisnonna down. She has been so excited ever since she found out that there was finally someone serious in my life.’

He must love his great-grandmother very dearly, thought Celena, to want to carry out this charade, and found it a surprising side to his character—one she had not expected. She warmed to him a little but was still not sure that she wanted to be a part of his devious plot.

‘I can’t see it working,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘They will surely sense that there is no love between us.’

‘I’m expecting you to put on an act.’ His voice went an octave lower, his brown eyes locking with hers, and triggered her senses in a way no one else had. Not even Andrew had managed to arouse her just by the tone of his voice.

‘I couldn’t; I couldn’t do that,’ she told him breathlessly.

‘Am I repulsive to you?’ It was a sudden, animal growl, attacking her defences, sending her whole body into panic.

‘No.’ Her answer came out as a yelp and she swallowed and tried again. ‘No, you’re not, but—we’re strangers—we—I—couldn’t possibly—’ And then on a stronger note she said, ‘I wish you’d been straight with me.’

His dark brows rose. ‘I could hardly go up to a stranger and ask her to pretend to be my future wife.’

‘So you dreamt up the job, got me out here, and hoped that when I saw your great-grandmother I would agree to do what you want,’ she accused him heatedly.

He inclined his head. ‘That was the general idea. She’s quite a person, isn’t she?’

The thought that he’d had his eye on her for some time sent a shiver of unease down Celena’s spine. She did not like to think that he had been observing her, talking about her, collecting his dossier on her while she had been in complete ignorance. She could not recollect ever having seen him before—and yet he knew about her! He had chosen her because of her startling resemblance to Simone.

Changing the direction of her thoughts, Celena tried to imagine what the pretence—if she agreed to it—would be like, what meeting the rest of the family would be like. ‘I’m no actress,’ she said, speaking her thoughts out loud. ‘I’m not sure that I could carry it off, Mr Segurini.’

He gave a snort of anger. ‘Will you call me Luciano, please? And of course you can; there’s nothing to it Just forget I’m your employer; think of me as a friend—a close friend. Do that and the rest will fall into place.’

Celena wondered whether he realised the enormity of his request. It was unreal, unfair, and yet she did not like to think of the old woman upstairs being hurt, possibly giving up her fragile hold on life after all these years of waiting and hoping for Luciano to find himself a bride. It would be on her conscience for the rest of her life if that happened. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to go along with it for a day or two?

Also, if she did refuse, he could quite easily terminate her employment And where would that leave her? And Davina? Fourteen now, top of her class, with excellent prospects, her sister dreamt about becoming a doctor—it was her passion in life. How could she be selfish enough to squash those dreams?

She heaved a sigh and Luciano must have seen the acceptance in her eyes because he said, ‘Is that a yes?’

‘I just hope I don’t regret it,’ Celena muttered.

‘You’ll knock them flat,’ he declared. ‘And I think now might be a good time to seal our bargain. You might even call it a rehearsal.’

Celena had no idea what he was talking about until he closed the gap between them and drew her into the circle of his arms. She opened her mouth to protest, only to find it captured by a pair of sensual, warm lips—lips that coaxed and burned and turned her insides to fire.

The kiss seemed to last for ever, every nerve and pulse in Celena’s body responding instantly and feverishly. It was with a supreme effort of will that she kept her feelings hidden, and when Luciano finally pulled away, saying, ‘Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?’ she looked heatedly into his face.

‘I think you took an enormous liberty.’ And deep down inside she was devastated to think how vulnerable she had suddenly become, how difficult the next few days were going to be.

‘At least I’ve proved that you don’t find me totally abhorrent.’ He smiled, satisfied, and sat back away from her.

Celena’s eyes flashed. ‘You had better not do it too often,’ she declared fiercely.

His lips quirked. ‘I’m a very tactile man, Celena.’

‘Well, you’d better be untactile where I’m concerned,’ she raged, ‘or you might end up with egg on your face.’ Insisting that he leave her alone was her only form of defence, the only way she could keep her traitorous feelings hidden.

‘Don’t let me down, Celena.’ It was spoken softly but a warning nevertheless.

She swallowed hard. ‘It’s the most difficult thing I’ve ever been asked to do.’

‘I agree it’s unusual,’ he said, ‘but I don’t think it will be difficult, and naturally I shall make it worth your while.’

Celena pushed herself angrily to her feet ‘Why does everything always come down to money? As far as I’m concerned it’s all part of my job—I don’t want paying extra for it. Being paid to be kissed by you makes me sound like a—’

He interrupted her swiftly, harshly, springing up also. ‘You’ve made your point, Celena. It’s just that I’m used to—’

‘Paying for whatever you want,’ she cut in sharply. ‘I’m not impressed. Don’t forget my name’s not Simone. There are some things money can’t buy, Luciano. Hell, I can’t call you that—it’s too much of a mouthful. I’ll call you Luc.’ She pronounced it Luke.

He shrugged. ‘As you wish.’

‘What’s going to happen when I’ve served my purpose?’ she asked bluntly. ‘Will I get my marching orders?’

His eyes flickered impatiently. ‘The job will be yours for as long as you want it’

‘A high price to pay for a few days of someone pretending to be your girlfriend,’ she retorted scathingly.

‘I happen to think you’re worth it.’ Anger darkened his face now. ‘Enough of this conversation. Francesca will show you to your room. Tonight my whole family is dining with us. Please dress yourself accordingly.’ He was every inch the Sicilian aristocrat in that moment—and Celena hated him.

Along miles of corridor Francesca took her, finally opening a door and showing Celena inside. When the girl offered to unpack Celena shook her head with an apologetic smile. ‘Thank you, but it won’t be necessary; I haven’t much.’ And certainly nothing glamorous enough for a grand dinner with the Segurinis!

It was a large, high-ceilinged room with yet more ornate plasterwork and beautiful old furniture. The bare wooden floor was highly polished with a cotton rug either side of the bed. Furnished in muted shades of blue, it was pleasant and relaxing, though Celena was far too uptight to appreciate this fact.

The house was high on the mountainside and the tall, deep windows, with their stone balustrades, gave stunning panoramic views over the island. In the distance she could see Mount Etna and, to one side, the blue of the ocean, with drifts of colour from wild flowers on the hillside.

She sat for long moments staring out, thinking over the commitment she had made. Everything had conspired to make her say yes—Giacoma’s obvious ill health, Davina’s school fees, her own fear of being jobless. Everything. All she could hope was that she wouldn’t live to regret it

Eventually she took a shower in the adjoining bathroom, and then pulled on a pale green silk shirtwaister that she had packed in case they had any business dinners. It wasn’t exactly what she would have chosen for the occasion confronting her now, but it was the best she could do.

After brushing her hair and applying the minimum of make-up up she sat down again at the window. The sun was sinking fast now; soon it would be dark. When Luciano entered after only the lightest tap on the door she shot up from her seat and looked at him crossly. ‘I could have been naked.’

‘I guessed you’d be ready and waiting,’ he said easily, walking across the room towards her. He had changed into a grey shirt and grey moleskin trousers and looked devastating, but Celena still glared.

‘I am ready, but—waiting? I hardly think so. I cannot believe that I let you talk me into this.’

His mouth tightened. ‘The family are anxious to meet you. I’d like it if you snapped out of that mood.’

‘I feel pressured,’ she said defensively.

He took her by the shoulders and she thought he was going to shake her; instead he said with surprising softness, ‘There is no need.’

A shudder ran through her at his touch. Despite her fears she could not ignore the sensations he evoked; they thrilled unbounded through her body.

‘You’re trembling,’ he said, and sounded surprised. ‘Are you really so afraid?’

Celena grasped the excuse. ‘Of course I am,’ she whispered shakily. ‘I’m terrified.’

‘There is nothing to be frightened of,’ he assured her. ‘My family are very normal people, just like you and me.’

Normal! He was a Sicilian aristocrat; how could that be normal? ‘I’ll be on show,’ she declared. They’ll be watching, they’ll be judging, they’ll be—’

‘They’ll adore you,’ he told her firmly.

She shook her head. ‘You’re the eldest; you’ve kept them waiting; I shall have a lot to live up to. They will expect someone special after all these years.’

‘You are special,’ he told her.

‘But not special in the way they’ll be thinking,’ she insisted. Only special because he had selected her for the part! she thought

‘You’re being ridiculous,’ he grated, impatient now. ‘I will be at your side; you need never feel that you are on your own.’

Of course he would be at her side—he would be watching her like a hawk, making sure that she did not let him down. She pushed him away from her and her eyes shot sparks of fire. ‘If it gets too much and I fail, then don’t blame me.’

‘You will not let me down, Celena.’ He was as imperious as his great-grandmother at that moment, and it was easy to see from where he had got his strength and the supreme confidence that whatever he wanted he could have.

The meal was every bit as bad as Celena had expected. Giacoma did not put in an appearance, but Filippo and Paolo, Luc’s brothers, and Gabriella, his sister, all swamped her with questions. Their respective spouses were present too and all eyes were on her. Celena felt as though she was being put through a third degree.

‘How did you meet Luciano?’ asked Gabriella.

‘How long have you known each other?’ questioned Filippo.

‘How soon do you plan to get married?’ enquired Paolo.

‘Do you work?’

‘Do you have brothers and sisters?’

‘What do your parents think of Luciano?’

And so it went on and on until Celena’s head was in a whirl and she could neither eat nor drink nor answer any more questions.

Luciano put up his hand. ‘I think that’s enough,’ he said in his most authoritative voice. There’ll be plenty of time to talk to Celena.’

‘Of course,’ said Gabriella sympathetically. ‘We must be confusing you. It’s just that we’ve waiting so long for Luciano to announce his intention of getting married. We can see now why he took his time. You’re very beautiful, Celena. Your engagement party is going to be the biggest social occasion of the year. Simply everyone is coming.’

Celena’s heart slammed against her ribcage and she looked swiftly and accusingly at Luciano. What engagement party? her eyes flashed. ‘I think we ought to talk,’ she grated under her breath.

‘Later,’ he muttered.

‘Now!’ she insisted.

He turned to his family and smiled. ‘I’m afraid Celena has developed a headache. Will you excuse us?’

He took her outside into a walled courtyard that was lit by coach lamps set into the walls. She turned on him viciously. ‘Something else you conveniently forgot to tell me?’

He shrugged, spreading his hands in a typical Latin gesture. ‘It’s nothing.’

‘We’re getting engaged and you say it’s nothing,’ she accused him furiously. ‘You strung me along, knowing I wouldn’t agree. God, I hate you. How could you do this to me? When would you have told me about our engagement? An hour beforehand?’ She shook her head in anger and bewilderment. ‘I can’t take it in; it’s unbelievable.’ And as another, even darker thought struck her she said, ‘Don’t tell me you’ve fixed a date for the wedding as well?’

He shook his head emphatically. ‘I wouldn’t do that, Celena.’

‘Wouldn’t you?’ Her eyebrows rose in furious disdain. ‘I wouldn’t put anything past you. My goodness, is it really so important?’

‘To me it is,’ he answered.

‘Because you love your great-grandmamma.’

‘That is right.’

She admired him for it but even so…Her blood boiled. ‘So much that you’d lie, that you’d pluck a strange girl off the street and pretend she is the love of your life?’ Again she shook her head. ‘I can’t believe any of this. It’s like a nightmare; I hope it is one. I hope I’m going to wake up and find myself back home, back in my old job, never having heard the name Luciano Segurini.’ She turned away, walking over the old flagstones which had been worn smooth by countless footsteps before hers. She kicked at a loose pebble. ‘I hate you, Luciano.’

‘I didn’t pluck you off the streets, Celena,’ he said, and there was an edge of anger to his voice too. ‘I chose you deliberately.’

‘Because I resemble Simone?’ she grated, not even looking at him.

He gave an exasperated sigh. ‘It was one of the reasons.’

She glanced at him then, scornfully. ‘When did you first see me and realise that I looked like your exlover?’

‘At an advertising convention in Birmingham.’

Her fine brows shot up. ‘That was over six months ago. You were going out with Simone then.’

‘I know.’

But it hadn’t stopped him looking at other girls! ‘And so, when your relationship with Simone ended, you immediately thought of me—is that what you’re saying?’ she asked crisply. It sounded like a whole pack of lies.

Luciano nodded.

‘I must have made quite an impression,’ she returned drily.

‘It wasn’t the only time I saw you—or heard of you,’ he confessed. ‘Clayton Smythe is a personal friend of mine.’

Her boss at Hillier and Jones! She looked at Luciano now in surprise. ‘He never said, not even when I put in my notice. Was he aware of your plans?’

‘Only that I wanted you to work for me,’ he told her.

Thank goodness for that, she thought It was bad enough being duped into all of this without someone else knowing about it before her.

‘I think you’re a swine,’ she said furiously.

‘But you won’t let me down.’ It was a statement of fact, a warning, and his eyes glittered dangerously. He was being very calm but all hell would break loose if she dared to refuse.

Celena’s chin lifted. ‘I’m in a dilemma, aren’t I? You’ve cornered me. I either tell everyone what a bastard you are and hurt your precious great-grandmamma or I go along with it. There is no other choice.’ And the trouble was that she already liked Giacoma; she did not want to hurt this grand old lady. ‘The point is, Luc, how long are you expecting me to keep up this pretence?’

‘Only until after the engagement party,’ he assured her.

Could she believe him? He had not once told her the whole story; first it had been just a job, then would she please pretend to be his girlfriend, now she was expected to agree to becoming his fiancee. And what next? He had denied the marriage bit but could it be what he had in mind? Would she do herself a great disservice if she carried on with this play-acting? Would she end up in his bed, bearing his children? The thought was too horrifying to contemplate.

‘How can I trust you?’ she asked, grey eyes still fierce. ‘You’ve already forced me into coming here—maybe not physically, but with clever words and subtle persuasion.’

‘Forced you, Celena?’ he asked, black brows rising, tone brusque. ‘It was your decision—yours alone. Are you suggesting that you are easily led?’

She let her breath out in an angry hiss. ‘I can’t win with you, can I?’

‘There are no winners and losers,’ he said. ‘All I’m asking is a favour. You’ll be amply rewarded.’

‘I don’t want rewarding,’ Celena snapped. ‘I don’t want anything. I just want to be left alone to get on with my life as I used to.’

‘We cannot put the clock back.’

‘More’s the pity,’ she riposted. ‘I rue the day I ever set foot in your office.’ She could, of course, walk out of here right now and leave him to face the consequences, but because she was human and sympathetic, and because it involved other people besides herself, she knew that she would not do it. She moved away from him, staring at the ground, deep in thought. She paced the whole perimeter of the courtyard—and ended up back at Luciano’s side.

‘Well?’ he asked impatiently.

Celena heaved a sigh. The decision had been made for her. Two button-bright eyes and a pair of gentle, gnarled hands had done their persuasion. ‘I’ll carry on the pretence,’ she said slowly.

The harsh angles of Luciano’s face relaxed, and he took her hands in his, ‘You won’t regret this, Celena.’

‘I already have,’ she told him coolly, snatching herself away, ignoring the tingle that ran through her. ‘I’m only doing it for your great-grandmother.’

‘As am I,’ he reminded her tersely.

They walked around the courtyard together, Celena admiring the delicate white blossoms of the quince, their petals resting gently on shiny green leaves, and the bright yellow lemons that she had never seen growing before, and, below them, the purple tips of lavender just coming into flower. It would have been a peaceful place had it not been for Luciano.

His presence deeply disturbed her. She was in a situation that was proving more and more difficult as time went by. What had begun as an exciting new job had ended in her promising to marry Luciano—at least in the eyes of his family!

Gabriella came out to find them. Like each of his siblings she had glossy dark hair and an olive skin, though her face was much plumper and rounder than her elder brother’s and she was nowhere near as tall. In fact she was quite dumpy. Nevertheless she had a warm and friendly personality and she looked at Celena now anxiously.

‘We are all worried about you, Celena. We talk so much; we feel it is our fault you have a headache. How are you feeling? Perhaps you ought to lie down. I will send Francesca with some pills.’

‘Please,’ said Celena at once, ‘it’s not your fault. We’ve done a lot of travelling today; it’s probably that.’

‘You must look after her, Luciano,’ Gabriella admonished him.

‘Indeed I intend to.’ He put his arm about Celena’s shoulders and pulled her to him. ‘She is the most important person in my life.’ With a tender smile he pressed a kiss to her brow—and there was nothing Celena could do about it.

‘And so she should be,’ retorted his sister. ‘We have waited a long time for you to find yourself a wife. He is so choosy,’ she said to Celena. ‘We have found him many girls over the years, but no, he is waiting for the right one. And now you are her. We all approve; I think you should know. We are looking forward to your engagement party tomorrow.’

Tomorrow! Another bombshell! Celena tried to tear herself away from Luciano but his arm tightened and she had to wait until Gabriella returned to the house before she could break free.

‘You didn’t tell me the party was tomorrow,’ she said accusingly. She was not even being given time to get used to the idea. ‘How long has it been arranged?’

‘About a month,’ he replied with a shrug. ‘Does it really matter?’

‘Of course it matters,’ she retorted. One month! Not long after she had accepted his job offer. Lord, what unique confidence the man had. And how could she have been so blind as not to suspect that something was going on? ‘How many will be coming to the engagement party?’ she asked coldly.

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