Irresistible Bachelors: The Count of Castelfino / Secretary by Day, Mistress by Night / Sweet Surrender with the Millionaire

He stood up and went around to sit behind his desk again. After making a quick request through his intercom, he folded his hands on his desk. In that position he looked every inch the successful businessman. Meg could only marvel at the transformation from seducer to tycoon, but nothing could stop his true spirit gleaming through his patina of ruthless efficiency for long.

‘There—I’ve had the best shops in Florence put on standby. I’ve got accounts with all these…’ opening a drawer in his desk, he pulled out an indexed folder and dropped it onto his blotter ‘…and I send women in there all the time to treat themselves to pretty things,’ he said airily.

Meg hoped he meant business-wear for the girls from his outer office. The secret smile playing around his lips as he peeled the top copy from a pile of papers made her doubt that very much.

‘Any one of these places will soon fix you up with something sexy but suitable.’

He slid a single sheet of paper across the desk towards her. Meg picked it up and looked at the neatly printed list of designer names. The only place she had seen them before was in glossy magazines in the dentist’s waiting room back in England. She stared at it, wondering how she would have the nerve to cross the threshold of any of the shops on his list.

‘Any thoughts?’ he said nonchalantly.

Meg didn’t know how to put them into words. Her parents’ debts had indirectly cost her the job of her dreams. Now she had worked her way up to an even better career, was it going to bankrupt her?

‘All these places sound pretty…exclusive,’ she said carefully.

‘You don’t think I’d bother opening accounts with anywhere less than perfect?’

Meg pursed her lips. She had managed to persuade Gianni not to sack her once. If she disagreed with him over this, he might change his mind. Her fear of snooty shop assistants looking down on her fought with her terror of poverty. She had seen how that could wreck lives. It wasn’t something she could face a second time. Her wages for working on the Castelfino estate meant she would be able to send impressive amounts of money home each month. Although the Imsey family’s plant centre was thriving now, Meg knew how narrow the line was between comfort and disaster. Her mother and father had teetered along that tightrope for too long in the past. She wanted to make sure they had plenty of funds to withstand whatever life might throw at them in the future. This job was a magnificent opportunity to build up a nest egg for them. That way, she could be sure bankruptcy wasn’t lurking around every corner.

‘Of course not—and that’s what worries me,’ she confessed. ‘I need every penny of my wages. Shops like the ones on this list probably charge a fee for looking in their windows!’

Gianni leaned across his desk toward her, wrinkling his brow. ‘That’s what accounts are for, Megan. Everything will be charged to me. You won’t pay a cent.’ He used the slow, carefully enunciated speech usually reserved for speaking to small children.

She almost collapsed with relief. Then she realised she might be walking straight into a trap. The bait was sweet as honey, but she had one exceptionally good reason not to take it. Exactly how thankful would Gianni expect her to be? Her body wanted to get closer to him, there was no denying that. This would give him the ideal opportunity to tempt her further. That was why her mind was determined to hold her back. Her experiences with ex-boyfriend Gavin had given her a taste of what some men were like. She knew from experience that a man who spent money on a woman thought he had a say in her life. Accepting Gianni’s generosity might lead to all sorts of things…

She looked once again into the deep, dark pools of sensuality that were his eyes. There wouldn’t be any harm in accepting his generosity, her body cooed. A smile was already warming her face as she raised her eyes from the list in her hand.

‘That’s more than I ever expected, and very kind of you, Gianni,’ she said, and was rewarded with a laugh that enclosed her in a warm, protective force field. It gave her enough courage to face the curiosity of his fearsomely glamorous assistants in the outer office again. Assuming her audience with him was finished, she stood up. As she turned to go he checked his watch.

‘Wait—I’m about to leave for the Florence office. I can give you a lift. While I’m busy, you can shop. We’ll meet up again afterwards, and I’ll bring you home.’

Meg stopped. Those few words sent her into total meltdown. Time alone with Gianni in his office was one thing. Travelling with him was something else.

‘Fine, b-but I’ll need to change first!’ she stammered, already halfway to the door.

‘There’s no time. You look great as you are,’ he announced, although Meg noticed he didn’t actually look at her as he said it.

‘And then there’s my work—I can’t just disappear without telling my staff what’s happening, Gianni! Why don’t you arrange a car, while I go back and leave some instructions for the men?’

He grinned and pulled a jangling collection of keys from his pocket. ‘Oh, no, you don’t! I know all there is to know about women. If I don’t keep my eyes on you, you’ll head straight for Garden Cottage and spend the next two hours delaying me while you get ready. I’ll come with you, every step of the way.’

Meg wasn’t about to stop him. His presence at her shoulder kept her nerves singing with anticipation. He shadowed her as she went back to the kitchen garden and completed all her meticulous checks. All the time, Meg knew he was watching. She felt his gaze running over her like quicksilver. It only slid away whenever she tried to catch his eye.

‘What is happening to Imsey’s Plant Centre while you are enjoying yourself here in Italy?’ he said as they walked out through the garden gates and went to find his car.

‘I ring home every day to find out. On my mobile, of course,’ Meg added hurriedly so he wouldn’t think she was running up a bill on the estate account. ‘Mum and Dad say they are coping, but I’m still worried. I’m afraid they don’t tell me everything. That’s what happened last time.’ She bit her lip.

‘It seems strange to take a job far away from home when you’re so devoted to them.’ Gianni snapped off a tall stem of ornamental grass in passing and rubbed the embryo grains between his fingers.

‘I had to.’ Meg stared at the seed head in his hands, remembering. ‘When your father offered me this job, it was the perfect opportunity. Helping them so successfully gave me the confidence to look for another challenge. I could strike out on my own, and begin building my career afresh.’

Her words slowed as she thought back to the one thing that had really kick started her new life. It was the night at Chelsea, when she had first met Gianni. For weeks afterwards she had fantasised about him. Then her life had turned upside down with the offer of this job, and now she was walking through a Tuscan estate beside him. It was a dream come true…almost. She tried not to notice the sunshine glittering over his raven-dark hair, or the beautiful cast of his features. It was becoming really difficult to keep work at the forefront of her mind.

‘I’d secured Mum and Dad’s business, and it was my time to shine again,’ she added, dragging herself back to reality.

‘And then out of the blue I received your father’s letter, giving me the chance to pitch for the position of his Curator of Exotic Plants. He’d been impressed with me. We spent a very long time talking together at the flower show. I never dreamed you were related, but, thinking about it, that must have been his handwriting in your notebook.’

‘That’s right. He sent me to seek you out, so he must have been impressed.' Gianni nodded.

‘Mum and Dad said they didn’t need my help any more at the nursery, so here I am.’

They reached his car. The sleek black Ferrari crouched on the gravel like a wild cat. It was a great distraction from her problems, and she couldn’t resist smiling.

‘I’d never been close to anything like this until I came to Italy,’ she breathed.

‘Why? What do you drive?’

‘I don’t—not in this country. I’d be petrified of driving on the wrong side—I mean on the opposite side of the road.’ She corrected herself quickly in response to the scornful look Gianni shot at her.

‘Then it’s time you got some practice.’

Without another word he tossed his jangling set of keys and passes at her. Meg bent to pick them up. He leaned against the passenger door with a knowing look on his face.

‘You want me to drive your car?’ She gasped.

‘Everyone who lives in the country must drive. It’s best if you start right now. And I’m only going to let you pilot her the few kilometres across my estate to the public road. I’m not completely insane.’

‘But what happens if I crash it?’

He looked at her as though she were the mad one. ‘I’ll get the factory to send me another, of course. There’s an inexhaustible supply, or so they told me the last time. And don’t change the subject. We were talking about you. I thought you said you were happy at home?’ he mocked, as though exposing some hypocrisy in the way she had left England. ‘It didn’t take much to set you on the path to fame and fortune again, did it?’

‘If you had been listening carefully, you would have understood what I meant.’ Meg’s cheeks flared as she got into his car and tried to find a comfortable driving position. He looked puzzled. Then understanding brought his smile out of the shadows.

‘You were quite happy, but not completely.’ He nodded. ‘Something was missing from your life.’

Someone…Meg thought. There was a pain beneath her ribs, interfering with her breathing. It was the same feeling she had endured back in England, every time she spotted someone in the distance who might have been Gianni, or thought she heard his laughter. Her heart rode a roller coaster each time it happened. She had thought no disappointment could have been greater than never seeing him a second time. But meeting him again had been more agonising than any mistake made in a shopping mall. She sensed that deep down he was suspicious of her motives.

‘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 was made to feel at home instantly, despite all the designer labels. She was almost disappointed to find the perfect dress within minutes. It was a close fitting sheath of sky-blue moiré. Sleeveless and low cut with a matching jacket, it would make the most of her newly acquired tan. The assistant helped her choose an outrageously high pair of silk slingbacks to complement the outfit, and promised they would be dyed to match in time for Gianni’s party. Strutting through a gallery of full-length mirrors, Meg marvelled at her transformation. She felt like a million dollars, and the effect on her was obvious. She glowed. It was amazing—this outfit took pounds off her, and gave her so much confidence! She had never dreamed she could look so good. For the first time she revelled in her own reflection. Instead of seeing Gianni’s coming banquet as a terrifying ordeal, she actually began to look forward to the experience. Expansive with self-confidence, she cheerfully announced that she would take the dress and the shoes, which should all be charged to the Count di Castelfino’s account.

The manageress shook her head gravely.

‘Not yet, madam. I was instructed to ask how many shops you have visited so far before agreeing to sell you anything.’

‘This is the first,’ Meg answered honestly, but soon wished she hadn’t. A second assistant gently lifted the beautiful blue outfit from her hands and whisked it away to a back room.

‘Don’t worry. We’ll keep it safe for you. But knowing the new count, it is as well to follow his instructions to the letter.’

Meg could believe it. Her heart sank. All she wanted to do was get back to her little house on the Villa Castelfino estate. It was the only place in this foreign land she felt truly comfortable. She understood all there was to know about plants, but shopping was a mystery she’d never had enough money to investigate before. It was made only slightly less nerve-racking by the fact that Gianni would be paying.

‘Oh, no…does that mean I have to do this all over again, from top to bottom of the city?’ She stared at the sheet of paper Gianni had given her. Her face was as long as his list.

‘It may not be so bad, madam. Try to put a brave face on it,’ the assistant sympathised. Her words brought Meg straight back to her senses.

‘Good grief, to hear me talk anyone would think this was hard work! If all I’ve got to do to please him is to rifle through a few clothes racks, I’ll be finished in no time!’ she announced.

Things didn’t go quite according to Meg’s master plan. She swept in and out of the next shop at high speed, but as she progressed down the list each visit became longer, and more leisurely. Although she never found anything that suited her taste and Gianni’s instructions as perfectly as the blue sheath and jacket, she actually began to enjoy herself. All the shop assistants fawned around her as though she were royalty. She was offered drinks, sweets and snacks everywhere she went. Trying on clothes became a delight rather than a chore. She learned that rich fabrics needed to be enjoyed and lingered over, not pulled on and off at speed. When she got to the final establishment on her list, she was amazed to find it was a real wrench to leave. But at last, awash with coffee and stuffed with cantuccini, she returned to seal the deal on her ideal outfit.

She had arranged to meet Gianni near the Ponte Vecchio. He was already there, laughing into his mobile. The moment the weight of his gaze fell on her, he ended the call. Walking towards her with a smile, he pulled out his car keys.

‘You haven’t taken as long as I thought you would!’ His gaze ran over her, and Meg’s mouth went dry. The afternoon was so hot she’d been convinced her temperature couldn’t possibly climb any higher. She was wrong. He looked magnificent. The contrast between his olive colouring and the brilliant white shirts he favoured was one she always admired. Today she was in for an extra treat. Gianni had not only turned back his cuffs so they exposed his smooth tanned forearms, he had also taken off his tie, and there were enough buttons open at his neck to expose a dark shadow of hair. Meg’s pulse began to race away with her manners. It was all she could do to keep either under control.

‘Don’t worry, Gianni. I’ve got everything for the business banquet, exactly as you instructed. Thank you so much. And would you believe it—I got most of it only after I ended up back at the very first shop I visited! They’re going to deliver it as soon as all the alterations have been made. Now—let’s get back to the villa. I can’t wait to get home, kick off my shoes and—’

She stopped, painfully aware she was gabbling. Gianni raised his eyes to heaven and clicked his tongue.

‘Women! If they’re at home they want to be out shopping. If they’re out and about, they want to get back home! They’re all the same!’ he said in a voice full of Italian indulgence.

I’m not. How I’d love to linger here with you. Oh, if only you knew…Meg thought, but bit her tongue. It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last.

The days before Gianni’s first formal banquet passed in a whirl of preparations.

‘I knew I made the right decision in employing a female head gardener,’ he announced innocently as Meg knelt on a hearth, working at a flower arrangement. When he said that she sat back on her heels.

‘So you weren’t the man who threatened me with redundancy the moment I arrived?’ she mocked, without looking at him.

Gianni ignored her comment. He was too busy surveying the floral decorations draped around the summer dining hall. ‘I ask you—what man could have done this so beautifully?’

‘My great-great-grandfather and his contemporaries, for a start,’ Meg said, adding an extra spray of tiny orchid flowers to the display of lichen-and moss-encrusted logs set in the fireplace. She had designed everything, from the colour schemes to the hand-tied bouquets. It had given her so much pleasure. Gianni’s praise more than doubled her satisfaction, and she smiled as she put the finishing touches to the floral fire in the empty hearth. It was a sparkling mass of red and gold flowers, all cosseted in the perfect environment of the estate’s brand-new greenhouses. That was an extra source of pride for Meg. She had done it all herself.

‘Years ago floral art was part of every head gardener’s job description, no matter how tough and manly he was,’ she continued. ‘Going even further back, it was a prized skill among samurai swordsmen in Japan.’

‘I’d prefer geishas myself.’

‘I’m sure you would.’ Meg half turned to shoot the remark over her shoulder. The sight that met her eyes brought her up short. Although there was still some time to go before his guests were due to arrive, Gianni was already in full evening dress. He looked magnificent. Every inch the tenth generation aristocrat, he surveyed her work with pride. Meg couldn’t help staring up at him in barely concealed wonder. He grinned.