Her First-Date Honeymoon

A niggling thought told her that not only was she trying in vain to ignore how attracted she was to him—especially when he openly stared at her with interest, as he was doing right now, with particular attention focused on her mouth—but that it would hurt to have another person reject her. Which, rationally, she knew was crazy. They barely knew each other. But even after so many rejections it still hurt when others turned her away.

Working for him would be the kick-start her career needed. Even a week of working with him would open doors for her.

But she was a mess.

She had come to Venice to heal and to get her game plan together. She felt hollow and abused. She was in no position to deliver the best performance of her career.

A mocking voice echoed in her head. You said you were going to toughen up. Time for action and a lot less talk.

And having a purpose, being busy, might stop the stream of guilt and sadness that was constantly threatening to break through her defences—defences of shock and numbness, of a determination to tough it out. Being in control, having a structure to her days, was what she needed.

She spoke before she had time to talk herself out of it. ‘I’ll do it.’

His gaze moved from her lips to her eyes. Very slowly. So slowly that time seemed to stand still while her cheeks spontaneously combusted.

‘You?’

Did he have to sound so appalled by her proposal?

‘In my role at the fashion college I often helped pull events together—from the graduation show to organising the visits of academics and sponsors. Last year I co-ordinated the visit of some members of a faculty from a Chinese fashion college. I’m in need of a place to stay...you need an event co-ordinator.’

‘But you’re on holiday.’

‘My career is more important. I’ll be frank: having the Vieri name on my CV will be priceless.’

He seemed to be considering her proposal. For a moment hope danced before her eyes. But then he cut that hope off at the legs with a single determined shake of that movie-star-meets-roman-emperor head.

‘It’s not a good idea.’

‘Why?’

‘This trip is of critical importance to my companies. The delegation is coming to negotiate contracts which would see the large-scale expansion of our product placements in China’s most prestigious department stores. Nothing can go wrong.’

For a moment she considered backing down, admitting that she was probably the wrong person for the job. But she had to believe in herself.

‘You can brief me on it this morning, and then I’ll liaise with the travel agents and hotels involved. I’ll also double-check that all the protocols involved with hosting Chinese guests are followed. If there are any issues I will notify you immediately.’

He leaned one hip against the balcony and folded his arms. ‘It’s not a nine-to-five position. You would need to attend all the scheduled events with me.’

‘That’s no problem.’

Those brown eyes darkened. ‘We will be working closely together.’

‘That’s fine.’

Liar! Why is your belly dancing with giddiness if that is the case?

‘Please understand I never mix business with pleasure.’

Why was he telling her that? Was her attraction to him so obvious?

‘Of course. Exactly my sentiments.’ She took a deep swallow and forced herself to ask, ‘So, can I have the job?’

‘Tell me why I should give it to you.’

This would be so much easier if he wasn’t so gorgeous—if he wasn’t so self-assured, so ice-cool.

‘I will work myself to the bone for you because I have so much to prove. To you—but especially to myself.’

He stared at her as though she was a discount store garment made of polyester. It looked as if she would be packing soon. A heavy sensation sat on her chest—embarrassment, disappointment.

‘As I’m stuck, I’ll let you take on the position—but any mishaps and you’re gone.’

His scowl told her he wasn’t joking. Her ankle and heart began to throb in unison.

He came a little closer. Studied her for far too long for her comfort.

‘You will need to stay here...’

For a moment he paused, and a heavy boom of attraction detonated between them. She fell into the brown sultry depths of his eyes. An empty ache coiled through her. Heat licked against her skin. She pulled the neck of her jumper down, suddenly overheating.

Matteo stepped back, tugged at his cuffs and cleared his throat. ‘I will require frequent briefings from you, so you will need to stay here. I’m hosting a reception in the ballroom on Thursday night, which I will want you to co-ordinate and host alongside me.’ He flicked his hand towards the palazzo. ‘If you come with me to my office I’ll brief you on the event schedule and then pass you the files.’

Emma walked alongside him, her enflamed skin welcoming the shade of the palazzo. But her mind continued to race, asking her what on earth she had just done.

Could she keep her promise that nothing would go wrong? What if she slipped up and he saw even a glimpse of how attracted she was to him? An attraction that was embarrassingly wrong. Humiliatingly wrong. Shamefully wrong. She had been about to marry another man yesterday. What was the matter with her?

They walked side by side into the deeper shadows of the palazzo, and she felt guilt and sadness closing over her heart.

* * *

Later that afternoon, his phone to his ear, Matteo walked into the temporary office Emma had set up for herself in the palazzo’s dining room.

Sheets of paper were scattered across the table. He tidied the paper into a bundle. A long navy silk crêpe de Chine scarf dotted with bright red gerbera daisy flowers was tossed across the back of a chair, the ends touching against the terrazzo flooring. A bright exclamation against the dark wood. He folded it quickly and hid it from view by placing it on the seat of the dining chair.

His call continued to ring unanswered.

Where was she?

He had told her to be back at the palazzo by four so that he could take her to see his stores on Calle Larga XXII Marzo. She needed to be familiar with his companies and their products before her interactions with the clients.

Before lunch they had spent two hours running through the visit’s itinerary. Two hours during which he had questioned his judgement in agreeing to her taking over the event co-ordinator role.

With her every exclamation of delight over the events planned, with every accidental touch as they worked through the files, with every movement that caused her jumper to pull on her breasts he had become more and more fixated with watching her.

And throughout the morning she had progressively impressed and surprised him with her attention to detail. Impressed him because she had picked up on some timing problems he hadn’t spotted. Surprised him because, tidiness-wise, the woman was a disaster.

Obviously timekeeping wasn’t a strength either.