Italian Escape: Summer with the Millionaire / In the Italian's Sights / Flirting with Italian

‘Isn’t it? It came to me at the weekend, when I was working in the café. At first I was thinking of cupcakes but then I thought about the expansion and a way to corner the UK market. What better than English classic puds with an Italian gelato twist? Eve’s pudding—which is this one—crumbles, pies, even arctic roll? Of course,’ she added, ‘I might steal my own idea for cupcakes too. There’s no direct competition. Arctic roll cupcakes might be rather fun.’

Minty had perched on his desk, one long leg slung across the other, and her words were almost drowned out by the roaring in his ears. Mio Dio, did she have any idea of the effect she was having on him, sitting so close?

Today her formal office wear had been discarded and she was wearing a pretty summer dress in a deep sky-blue reminiscent of her eyes. Her legs were bare and far too close. Within touching distance. Her feet were clad in flimsy velvet flip-flops, her toenails painted to match her dress.

He really should say something about inappropriate footwear but all the breath had been sucked out of his chest.

Oblivious, she rattled on. ‘For all our sophistication, we are traditionalists at heart, especially with pudding. If you are going for a soft opening in the autumn, then this kind of stodgy comfort food might be the way forward.’

He could just put his hand out and touch her thigh, run his hand along those long, toned legs. Or put both hands on her waist and swivel her around. Pull her close to the end of the desk, down onto his lap, facing him.

Dear God, his mouth was dry. He stood up abruptly and skirted past her to the other end of the office, to the safety of his water cooler, to the safety of distance.

Luca took a sip of the ice-cold water, and then another, eyes focussed on the painting on the opposite wall, a vibrant abstract of the local countryside. But he wasn’t noticing the colours, the skilful brushstrokes, the stunning overall effect. He was trying to dampen down this sudden, fierce wave of desire that had swamped him.

What was wrong with him? So she had nice legs. So did hundreds of other women and he didn’t find himself wanting to stroke their thighs, thank goodness. That kind of behaviour could get a man into serious trouble. Blonde hair didn’t usually do it for him, either. That one night with Minty aside, his previous relationships had all been with brunettes.

Grimly he began to recite in his head all the reasons walking over to her and pulling her close were such a bad idea: she was working for him, she was practically family and she was a city girl with a life she was going to return to very, very soon.

The last time he’d given in to an urge to kiss her it had not ended well.

And, he told himself firmly, they had nothing in common. Oh, she was filled with excitement and passion for his business right now. That was because it was new and fun, different.

They both knew she wasn’t going to stick around.

But, a little insistent voice in his head pointed out, what did all that matter? Sure, Luca wanted a wife, a family, but it wasn’t as if he was dating anybody right now. Was he planning to live like a monk until he found the perfect candidate? Minty wasn’t actually working for him, she was playing at working. He wasn’t her boss; she could walk away any time.

She was no longer a girl. There was nothing wrong in wanting her now.

And she wanted him too. He’d seen it in those deep blue eyes as mysterious as the sea. He’d seen it in the flush of her cheeks, the curve of her lips. If he walked over there now and kissed her, she would respond. He knew that at some primeval level with utter certainty.

He just had to push that knowledge away. Far, far away.

* * *

‘So, next I’m spending some time in packaging and design and Tomas suggested that if you like the ice cream I could concentrate on the packaging for it. Not just for this, but for the concept. That’s if I’m staying. The two weeks are nearly up, after all.’

Of course she had won; she knew it. There was no reason to fail her. A new start, a challenge, a wager: she thrived on all these things.

And it had been fun. Unexpectedly fun.

Working with people all day, all part of a team, all trying to attain the same goal, was a buzz. Why did people say the nine-to-five was dull? It was absolutely stimulating. Of course, she conceded, she wasn’t having the full experience, moving from department to department as she was, but she had never felt so full of ideas, of creativity. Even at night she lay there with ideas buzzing round her brain, unable to sleep with it all.

Okay, it wasn’t just the work stopping her sleeping. Sharing a house with Luca was a serious mistake. Just knowing she could slip out of her bed, pad along the corridor to his room and slip in beside him was torture.

But what if he said no? He had refused her before. He wanted a woman to have his babies, all four of them. He didn’t want a ditzy debutante who fluttered from project to project, fiancé to fiancé, like a pollen-drunk butterfly. He wanted a sensible woman in sensible shoes with a sensible attitude.

And thank goodness he did, she told herself sternly. It was too risky. This one would hurt—had hurt. She might not bounce back this time.

If she was staying, she should seriously consider finding her own place well away from temptation. Maybe the local convent had a room. ‘So?’

‘So?’ he echoed.

‘Have I passed? Do I get to stay?’

‘If you want to.’ He sounded indifferent, as if her arrangements, her presence here, meant nothing to him. Perhaps it didn’t. Why should it? Occasionally she thought he felt it too, that he might be attracted to her. But attraction meant nothing without respect. Good genes had given her a healthy metabolism, body and bone structure. Money and an abundance of leisure time had allowed her to enhance those genetic gifts. Minty was under no illusions: a toned body, good skin and thick hair were nice to have. But she hoped she was worth more than their sum.

She hoped she’d have the chance to find out how much more one day. Being here, working with people who didn’t seem to care that her father was an earl, her mother an actress, or didn’t care that she had been tabloid fodder since her wild-child teens, people who only expected hard work, was liberating. It gave her hope.

‘Of course I want to stay.’

‘Of course,’ he murmured. ‘Of course, why would you want the financial freedom selling your shares to me would give you? Of course you would prefer to get up early every day and work for nine hours, five days a week.’

‘That’s how most people live.’

‘Yes, but you are not most people.’ Minty flinched at the sardonic gleam in his eyes, another reason not to get too close. He’d always had a disconcerting habit of seeing more than she revealed, seeing past her armour. ‘However, if you wish to stay I will, of course, honour our agreement. Unless...’ He paused reflectively. The amber eyes blazed; he looked at his most devilish. ‘Can you handle a new deal?’

He sounded so calm, so superior. Minty was tempted to say no, to flounce out, head held high. They’d made a deal and she had won. He couldn’t take that away from her.

But she was intrigued. Damn those gaming ancestors of hers.

‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I’ll consider what you have to say.’

‘You can stay. I can see you would be useful in the marketing department working on the English-language campaigns. You have worked hard the past two weeks. Everyone is full of praise—and it’s what Rose would have wanted—so, we’ll sort out a job description, salary; everything will be done properly. And, of course, I expect you to take up your seat on the board. But when you get bored...’ He looked her straight in the eyes. ‘And you will get bored, Minty, we both know that— probably sooner rather than later. Then you sell your shares and you don’t come near my company again. Capisce?’

Oh, he was good, too good; too damn perceptive.

She slid off the desk, pulling her dress down as she did so. ‘What if I have a genuine reason?’ she asked sweetly. ‘A new job, a baby, a fiancé who sticks around, a broken leg, an emergency back home? What if I work for you for ten years and get a new opportunity? Does that still count?’

He laughed, a genuine burst of humour that surprised her, made her smile with the infectiousness of it. ‘If you are here in ten years I’ll...’ He cast about for an appropriate expression.

‘In English, we say “eat my hat”,’ Minty informed him helpfully and smiled back over at him. The smile wavered on her lips. Luca was looking at her intently, the humour disappearing as suddenly as it had arrived, an unreadable expression in his amber eyes. The contrast with his olive skin and those long, dark lashes was startling; it made him seem wild, almost wolflike. They were eyes a girl could get lost in, eyes that could make you forget where you were, what you were doing.

She swayed, taking a tiny step closer, and then another, hypnotised by those eyes, by the heat she could see burning in them, when the shrill sound of her phone’s ringtone blared out. She looked about for her phone, desperate to shut the intrusive noise off, to get back to the intimacy that had suddenly flared up. The noise was coming from her bag which was slumped on the desk behind her, next to the rapidly melting ice cream.

The ice cream wasn’t the only thing melting in the suddenly stuffy room.

Her legs like jelly, Minty wobbled to the desk, reaching out to grasp it for support. This wasn’t right. Luca hadn’t even touched her! How could a look, one look, affect her this way? She fumbled for her phone, but by the time she had pulled it out it was too late; the call had diverted to voicemail.

She took a deep breath. She was going to say something. She just wasn’t sure what. ‘Don’t look at me that way.’ Or maybe, ‘Kiss me.’

Possibly both.

She turned round, the words trembling on her lips. But Luca was gone.

CHAPTER FIVE (#ud3d64fde-ab8b-5e1b-9c9d-78cdd97a8a7d)

‘GOOD MORNING.’