The Count of Castelfino

‘With all due respect, signor, I think I ought to stay.’

She skidded to a halt, almost within his reach. Her voice had been little more than a whisper. He hadn’t expected that. When she glanced nervously at the front of the house before speaking again she surprised him a second time.

‘For a little while, at least. Please?’

Totally wrong-footed, Gianni was stunned into silence. Not by what she said, but by the way she said it. An arrow of thought shot through his brain. It’s almost as though she’s as concerned for the staff as I am…but, no, she couldn’t be…

Words hissed through his clenched teeth like a November blast.

‘You have the nerve to speak to me of respect? A woman who bursts in on a house in crisis with laughter?’

Meg was so close she could hear the breath labouring in and out through his parted lips. She was petrified, but desperation kept her standing firm. She had to hope that she could make her new boss see reason and keep her on. It was vital.

‘I meant no harm, signor. I would never have made such a fuss if I’d known the circumstances. Can’t we draw a line under all this and start again?’

Within seconds she realised her mistake. Gianni Bellini had no reverse gear.

From the moment she’d arrived, she had realised this was going to be difficult. Now it looked close to impossible. She felt weak with terror, but couldn’t let him see that. She needed this job. Too many people were relying on her to simply roll over and accept what this strangely changed Gianni said.

With nothing to lose but her dignity, Meg pressed on. She lowered her lids. It was a slow, methodical gesture like that of a diver standing on the topmost board. To her surprise, he reacted by giving her time to speak.

‘When your father was alive, he specifically wanted me to come and work here,’ she said with measured calm. ‘I was the most highly qualified applicant for the post, and without my skill his plants will soon suffer. He had all sorts of plans in mind for the Castelfino Estate. Now he’s…well, let’s just say he’ll need a fitting memorial. He was always worrying about the future, and a lot of his ideas were practical. He spoke about throwing open his plant collection to the public one day, as a way of encouraging tourism in the area. I’m sure you’ll be carrying on all his other good works, signor,’ she added, and was relieved to see her innocent remark seemed to impress him. ‘Any man would be proud to leave such a legacy. Believe me, I know.’

His attitude hardened. ‘How do you know? Because you have a fistful of paper qualifications?’ he scoffed, clearly unimpressed.

‘No, I can say it because my father was exactly the same,’ she said evenly. ‘When he was taken seriously ill, he spent so much time worrying about what he would leave behind, he couldn’t rest. He was his own worst enemy. Your father was a good, kind man, signor. He deserves a living tribute. I worked with him closely on his new project here. He was so keen for it to go ahead, I really think it would be a mistake for you to cancel it just yet.’

Gianni stared at her for a long time. Then the corners of his mouth lifted in the slow, devastating smile that had been haunting all her dreams since their first meeting. He took a step forward, and held out his hand. ‘Allow me to congratulate you, Miss—?’

‘Imsey. Megan Imsey.’

His fingers felt deliciously warm as he enfolded her hand. It was a heat reflected in the colour of her cheeks.

‘Well done, Miss Imsey. I’m lost for words—something that has never happened to me before!’

Meg smiled back. She was a fast learner. In the last few minutes Gianni Bellini had morphed from her dream man into a living, breathing human being. Someone she could reach out and touch. To her surprise she realised they had at least two things in common. Work was everything to him—and he was as good at hiding his real feelings as she was. He might have started off as her fantasy lover, but Meg recognised a realist when she met one. Brought up on the breadline by devoted parents, she had become ultra ambitious to try to cushion them from poverty. She needed this job, for their sake. If that wasn’t reason enough to make a stand, Gianni Bellini was so magnetic. His playboy side had entranced her at Chelsea. He was so much more glamorous than anyone she had met before. Now he had been catapulted into a position of power, she wanted to see what his ambitions would make of her careful plans.

‘Surely you don’t need to make a snap decision about something as insignificant to you as my job, signor? Right now, you must have a thousand and one other things to think about.’

That at least was uncontroversial. He might be practised in the art of blocking his emotions, but for a split second Meg saw pain in his eyes. Anyone else would have missed it, but she’d been in some cold, dark places herself. She remembered how it had felt when her own father was hovering between life and death. With a pang she put her hand out to her new employer, but couldn’t quite manage the intimacy of a touch. Instead she withdrew, and let her words convey her sympathy. ‘And top of that list should be you.’

Her feelings were totally genuine, but they weren’t welcome. Gianni frowned.

‘No…I’m all right.’

‘You look as though you’ve been out all night,’ Meg said, torn between sympathy and adding the judgemental word again. It was hard not to remember all those plants she had gift-wrapped for his string of girlfriends.

‘I wasn’t there when it happened,’ he muttered, almost to himself. ‘I was in a nightclub with a thousand other people, none of whom would have cared if I dropped dead in front of them. I went straight to the hospital and sat beside him, trying as hard as I could to feel something. There was nothing…but then—’

He stopped.

‘It’s OK,’ Meg said softly, reaching out again. This time her dreams didn’t come into it. She laid her hand lightly on his sleeve, but taking a step backward he quickly put himself out of her reach again.

‘Then I came straight back here because this place won’t run itself…’ Gianni’s words began briskly enough but the lids of his olive-dark eyes were growing heavier all the time. He checked his watch. ‘Dio! I haven’t been to bed for days…’ he finished with weary disbelief.

‘I can see that,’ Meg said softly. He looked as though he had been sleeping in his beautiful designer clothes. As she watched he put a clenched fist up to his brow and scrubbed at it roughly. Meg knew how he felt. She had fretted for days and nights about her own father, when he was lying in Intensive Care.

Her memories were still too raw, and suddenly they overwhelmed her. Rushing forward, she put her arms out to him. She couldn’t help herself. His reaction was equally instinctive as he threw up his hands to stop her.

‘No! It’s fine. Please—don’t.’

Meg stopped. Forced to resist the urge to comfort him, she mirrored his gesture with one of peace.

‘All right—all right—you’re concerned that we’re being watched by your staff. I know. But you aren’t doing yourself or anybody else any favours by going beyond the point of exhaustion, signor. You need rest, and unless you get some you’ll be in hospital, too! Who will take care of the Villa Castelfino and all your staff then?’

He looked at her steadily for a long time. As he did so his dark, enigmatic expression began to stir a transformation deep within her body. Meg reacted to his scrutiny like a bud growing beneath snow. Gianni Bellini was unshaven and exhausted, yet he still looked totally irresistible. All the wicked fantasies she had dared to dream about him filtered back into her mind. She had spent so many long, lonely nights remembering his face, his smile, all his easy charm. Now here he was, right here in front of her. She began to blush. Something that began as heat rising from her breasts to her cheeks blossomed into the colour of a guinée rose, and silenced her.

‘Why are you doing this, Megan Imsey? You’ve only just got here. Why should you care about me? I’m a cold, unfeeling taskmaster. You’ll hear that from anyone outside the clubs and beaches. When I shelve all my father’s wild ideas, there’ll be no job here for you.’

Meg raised her eyebrows. The old count’s plans had all seemed perfectly sensible to her. This was her dream job, but there was definitely no place for daydreams in Gianni’s new regime. It was time to tell him some of her hard home truths.

‘I can’t afford not to care,’ she said in a careful, matter-of-fact voice. If he wouldn’t recognise simple compassion, that must mean he didn’t want any. ‘I’m on the Villa Castelfino payroll, but so far you’re the only person here who knows I’ve turned up for duty. To put it bluntly, it’s in my interests to take great care of you if I ever want to be reimbursed for this pointless jaunt, Signor Bellini. And there’s always an outside chance you might see reason, and stick with the old count’s plans as I suggest,’ she finished boldly.

It took some time, but Gianni’s expression gradually moved from resignation to distaste. ‘I might have guessed. With women, it all comes down to money in the end. And people wonder why I keep them all at arm’s length!’ He grimaced at last.

His reply was a final wake-up call for Meg. In real life, he was turning out to be quite a different prospect from the ideal man she wanted. With regret, she recognised he was as practical and down-to-earth as she was. It was beginning to feel as though work was the only certainty in her life. With no illusions left about Gianni, all she could hope to do was to secure her future. Apart from all the pressing practical reasons, her parents had waved her off at the airport with such high hopes for her. She couldn’t bear to disappoint them by returning home without achieving anything.

‘It isn’t simply money, signor. Common sense and practicality come into it, too. My family back home are relying on me as a backstop. I’ve put their business back on an even keel. They’re doing really well at the moment but we all know from bitter experience how circumstances can change overnight.’

When she said that, Gianni briefly made eye contact with her. He nodded, but didn’t speak.

‘That’s why I need this job, signor. Your father arranged for me to live in the Garden Cottage here on the Villa Castelfino estate. I’ve visited before, so I know where it is. There’s no need to worry about me,’ she said, in the unlikely event Gianni Bellini ever worried about anyone but himself. ‘I can sort myself out. I’ll be absolutely no trouble. We can talk about all this later. You just see about getting yourself some rest.’

‘No. I need to be alert.’

He looked as belligerent as only a sleep-deprived man could look.

‘Of course you do, signor.’ Meg smiled as he played straight into her hands. ‘That’s why you must get some sleep. Don’t worry; I’ve already had some experience of how this house works. They’ll keep you informed. You won’t miss a thing,’ she said soothingly. ‘The previous count was always telling me he was careful to employ only the very best staff.’

Gianni locked eyes with her for a long time. Then unexpectedly he took her hand again and raised it to his lips for another heart-stopping kiss. It brought back every spine-tingling sensation he had ever evoked in her, and left her gasping. When he looked at her now his expression overflowed with all the dark promise she remembered from their first meeting.

Then he said slowly, ‘Yes. He was. I can see that now.’

Chapter Two

GIANNI followed Meg’s instructions only by default. He was so tired his body took complete control of his mind. Leaving the new arrival to fend for herself, he trudged up to his suite. Working entirely on autopilot, he kicked off his shoes and fell into bed.

The next thing he knew, he was waking up with the sun in his eyes and hunger gnawing a hole in his stomach. Grabbing his bedside phone, he rang Housekeeping to order some food. Megan was right, he told himself. He had needed sleep. He must have been out of action for hours.