A Deal For Her Innocence

Niccolo frowned, momentarily distracted. ‘What about all the usual things women your age busy themselves thinking about?’ He was astonished at how sexist he sounded, because he prided himself on providing equal opportunities for women, and was known for parity on every level when it came to hiring within his own companies. For heaven’s sake, he’d gone into this venture on the back of what one of his sisters had said in passing because he’d respected her opinion even though it didn’t happen to coincide with his.

‘I’m not following you, Mr Rossi.’

‘Marriage and children? You’re clearly ultra-conservative, but that doesn’t seem to tie in with the I’ll do anything for my career angle.’

‘I’m very focused on my career right now, Mr Rossi. I don’t have time for the sort of relationship that would lead to marriage and children.’

‘Interesting approach.’

‘Why interesting?’

‘You meet someone.’ Niccolo was fascinated by her approach, which roughly mirrored his. ‘And you discover you want a relationship because something is ignited. I didn’t think women spent much time working out how they could fit it into their work schedule but, forgive me, I’m digressing.’

When was the last time he’d done that?

‘What I am really interested in is finding out how flexible your schedule is and whether there is anyone on the scene who might impact on your flexibility or any urgent work commitments that cannot be temporarily diverted.’

‘I just don’t understand what you’re asking, Mr Rossi...’

‘I like what you’ve done, Ms Wilson. It may need a little tweaking, but the more I think about it the more I accept that there’s something to be said for the fading sunset shots. They’re tasteful. I can understand why you’re probably the queen of whimsy in your company. Unfortunately, you’ve brought personal issues to the table, and I’m getting the impression that because you disapprove of the concept of my hotel you would find it difficult to work in any changes that might be necessary.’

‘It’s my job to adapt to and interpret what the client wants,’ Ellie said, brain going overtime to work out where this was going.

‘Splendid reply!’

‘But what does that have to do with whether there’s anyone in my life who can impact on my job or whether I have other jobs on the go?’ Ellie looked at him with a perplexed frown.

‘I’m prepared to give your company a shot at this,’ Niccolo told her.

‘That’s wonderful! Although...’ She frowned. ‘You still haven’t answered my question.’ She hesitated, wishing she could read what was going through his head behind those deep, dark, shuttered eyes that were looking at her with the sort of lazy assessment that could make a person feel drugged and heavy-limbed. ‘And...’ She inhaled deeply. ‘I’m curious as to why you’ve decided to give us the job.’

‘Because you have backbone,’ Niccolo observed, enjoying the transparency of her face. ‘You happen to be off-target about my resort—and I can personally guarantee that all of my guests would be very much affronted at being written off as sad—but you didn’t allow me to cow you into saying what you thought I might want to hear.’

Ellie flushed with pleasure even though there was a lot to sift through in what he just said before she could reach the compliment. ‘I expect,’ she conceded, ‘That you must have that effect on people. They put themselves out to please you.’

Niccolo didn’t bother denying it.

‘The reason I asked you whether there was anyone in your life and whether you could be spared at work is because I feel that you might need convincing, first hand, of the product you’ll be commissioned to advertise. Put it this way—it’s no good trying to sell a bar of chocolate if you don’t like the stuff. How could the message possibly be sincere?’

‘Need convincing?’ Ellie wondered how Niccolo Rossi imagined that he could try and talk her into dumping her moral code. Did he think that people’s ingrained beliefs were interchangeable depending on the time of day? Or maybe he thought that he was so persuasive that it didn’t matter what someone believed in—if it didn’t happen to coincide with his beliefs, then he would be able to win them over because he was a smooth talker. Or just too plain sexy for his own good.

Her eyes drifted to the sensual curve of his mouth and she hurriedly looked away and mentally gathered her wits.

‘I don’t have to be convinced of anything to do a good job. I’m grateful for the opportunity to prove to you just what I can come up with. I think I’m getting an idea of what you want, and I want to reassure you that I will be able to deliver. I’m assuming that you have a deadline? I gather that the resort is due to open imminently. I assure you I will have no problem working to any deadline you care to set.’

‘I’m thrilled to hear that,’ Niccolo said dryly. ‘But, before you get too excited talking deadlines and delivery schedules, I feel we should sort out any potential crossed wires here.’ His dark eyes rested on her face with just a whisper of sardonic amusement. ‘I’m not asking you to make another appointment with my secretary for a follow-up meeting in a week’s time. I’m asking you to pay a little visit to my resort, see for yourself what it’s all about.’ Niccolo seldom did anything purely on impulse. This was impulsive.

He took a few seconds to savour the rare sensation of a woman clearly appalled at the prospect of having to endure time out in a six-star luxury resort, all expenses paid.

‘So, do you want the job? Then pack your bags, Ms Wilson.’ He smiled lazily, ‘I’ve been told that nothing beats a spot of winter sun...’

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_f9738e8e-3869-5dc7-8a25-7e0c64cc6fbc)

NICCOLO HADN’T KNOWN, until a handful of hours before his private jet was due to take off, whether he would give in to yet more impulsive behaviour and take time out to go to the Caribbean.

His timetable was locked down tighter than a bank vault. He had meetings upon meetings, all meticulously planned weeks in advance. He had conference calls scheduled for ungodly hours of the morning, because it was imperative to be able to connect with clients on the other side of the world. His social life had been reduced to three business events, none of which could be avoided.

There was no way he could play truant because a random woman had shown up in his gym a week ago and done something to his rigid self-control.

Yes, he’d told her that going to his resort would be part of the job. So far, so good, because that made perfect sense. He’d liked the fact that she hadn’t been intimidated by him into agreeing to submit what the other advertising companies had submitted. He’d admired the way she’d dug her heels in, even though he had disagreed with pretty much everything she had had to say about relationships.

And yes, he had, sitting opposite her, been tempted by a number of what if? scenarios.

But even as he’d been tempted, even as he’d acknowledged the weird, disconcerting impact she seemed to have on his nether regions, a part of him had remained contained, controlled and logical.

He wasn’t going to go there because it didn’t make sense. He’d enjoyed the brief lapse of control, and had had fun playing around with images in his head, but deep down he had fully expected to relegate her to the back of his mind the second she left his office.

Face it, he was used to dating queens of the catwalk and, even though Ms Eleanor Wilson had a certain undeniable something that made him frown and want to take a second look, she was no queen of the catwalk. No jutting cheekbones, no sinewy arms, no legs up to armpits. Average, really, and with a dress sense that would have had fashionistas screaming in horror and running for the hills.

But, for some ungodly reason, the woman had lodged in his head like a burr and he couldn’t understand it.

He did, however, know himself and he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he needed to see her again because he wasn’t prepared for the tedium of having her in his system.

His relationship with the opposite sex bordered on the ridiculously predictable. He either had a business relationship with them, in which case they had about as much sex appeal as a potted plant in a suit, or else he had a sexual relationship with them, in which case they played the usual games of seduction before the whole thing became stale and he moved on.

He knew where he stood with women and he liked it that way. Despite his mother’s disapproval, and his sisters’ tiresome nagging, he was very happy indeed with his love life because it held no unfortunate surprises.

He’d endured one of those and, as far as he was concerned, one learning curve was enough for a lifetime.

Ms Eleanor Wilson, however, had managed uncomfortably to straddle both areas, which was why he’d found himself thinking about her way too often for his liking.

Which was why he knew that he had to see her again, if only to prove to himself that whatever appeal she had exercised was all in his mind.

Niccolo told himself that his baffling attraction to the woman was not, however, sufficient draw to take him away from his duties back in London. Truthfully, he knew that he could do with seeing where his money was going, and touching base with the people out there spending it on his behalf. He had paid a flying visit to the place months before, at which point he had put in place everything he wanted, and thereafter the whole show had been left in the capable hands of the small team of people who were employed by him exclusively to handle the project.

He had been updated daily with progress reports. He knew exactly what was going on but emails and conference calls were a poor substitute for face-to-face inspection. If Ms Eleanor Wilson was out there as well, then her presence would certainly add a tantalising piquancy to the trip. But first and foremost, he reasoned, this was about business, and if it was a little unexpected it was no more than a trip he would have done anyway, if at a slightly later date. At any rate, money was money, and he would be interested to see what she made of the resort because that would determine how genuine her ad campaign would eventually be and, if she wasn’t up to scratch, then regrettably she would have to go. Nothing was signed and he was well aware that she knew the implications of that. She had drawn even with the field but hadn’t yet cleared the finishing line.

He was musing over this when he spotted her approaching, dragging a small case behind her and with a capacious bag that could have housed a kitchen sink slung over her shoulder.

Immediately, he stilled and, eyes narrowed, he watched as she walked towards him.

‘Is that it?’ he asked, eyeing the tiny suitcase, which was hardly bigger than a rucksack. ‘You were allowed as much luggage as you wanted.’

Hot and bothered and feeling out of her depth, Ellie wondered whether that question required a reply. She’d had no idea who would be accompanying her on the flight over to the island and had, at first, assumed that there might also be other candidates being taken there on probation. She had been contacted by his secretary and informed of all the necessary details for a seven-day stay on the island. She had come close to looking forward to the working break until, in the chauffeur-driven car that had been dispatched for her, she’d received a call from Niccolo’s very nice secretary who had cheerfully informed her that Niccolo himself would be meeting her at the airport.

‘But he can’t be!’ Ellie had had to stop herself from wailing in despair. ‘How can he spare the time? He could barely spare the time to keep his appointment with me!’

‘Mr Rossi can do as he likes,’ his secretary had said gently. ‘He’s a law unto himself.’