The Lady's Man

No, the reason why she detested him was much more personal. For it was thanks to Matthew Allenby that, last September, she’d lost the love of someone who meant the world to her.

Thinking back on that time, she fixed him with a steely look as he turned with that maddeningly easy smile he could switch on and proceeded to address the still bewildered-looking Rosa.

‘It must be about your lunchtime? Perhaps you wouldn’t mind leaving us? Lady Caterina and I have things to discuss.’

‘Of course, Mr Allenby. Right away.’

Caterina noted how the girl flushed with pleasure beneath his gaze as she switched off her computer and reached for her bag. Clearly she was one of those women who found him irresistible, who failed to see the viper beneath the good looks and potent charm.

Though it wasn’t only women Matthew Allenby conned. Men, too, were taken in by that powerful aura of his. Even the normally astute Duke, for some inexplicable reason, failed to see him for the self-seeking hypocrite he was. Damiano treated him like a friend, when really he was no friend. He only courted the royal family to gain influence and social standing.

Caterina waited until Rosa had taken her leave of them, then she turned, with a frosty little smile to face him.

‘You know, you really needn’t have bothered getting rid of Rosa. I don’t know what you think we could possibly have to discuss. I came to see my brother but, since he’s not here, I shall simply come back and see him later.’

And so saying, she swung round and headed for the door.

‘Suit yourself.’

Quite unperturbed, Matthew watched her departure. He had known she would react like this for he knew what she thought of him and, quite frankly, her antipathy didn’t matter to him a damn. He let his eyes sweep. unhurriedly over her willowy figure, dressed in a simple straight blue skirt and a matching round-necked top, as informal and casually elegant as her glossy light brown bob. She was so unassuming in some ways, so impossible in others, with a wild streak he sometimes thought it might be amusing to tame.

But, right now, they had other business on hand.

As she was about to disappear back out into the corridor, he observed to her back, ‘You seem to be unaware that your brother has assigned me to deal with the problem you came to see him about. That’s why I’m here. I understood it was urgent.’

‘You?’

Stopping in her tracks, Caterina swung round to glare at him.

‘You?’ she ground out again. ‘My brother assigned you? Well, maybe I don’t want my problem dealt with by you!’

‘Maybe you have no choice.’

‘Oh?’ Such arrogance! ‘And says who?’

Matthew looked back at her without a flicker. ‘Maybe that’s just the way it is.’

Normally, Caterina’s complexion was creamy and flawless, a perfect luminous foil for her china-blue eyes, which, most of the time, were filled with warmth and humour. But two angry red spots had risen to her cheeks now and her eyes were as warm and humorous as chips of ice. Even her soft-lipped mouth, which smiled and laughed so easily—though it had done its fair share of crying in recent months—was drawn into an uncharacteristic tight, angry line. Matthew really did have the worst possible effect on her.

She replied between her teeth, ‘Well, I’m afraid it’s not the way it is.’ She would stick needles in her eyes before she would discuss her business with Matthew Allenby! And she turned sharply away to resume her interrupted exit.

But then Matthew spoke again. ‘I think I should warn you that your brother has handed over the or ganisation of the garden party to me.’

As he paused, Caterina swung round again, just as he’d known she would. She glared at him, daggers flying from her eyes.

Quite unfazed, he continued, ‘That’s why I said you had no choice—for it was about some problem relating to the garden party that you wished to see your brother, I believe?’

He believed correctly, and it was intolerable that he should be aware of her business. Caterina said nothing for a moment, just glared at him furiously, wishing she had the power, simply with a look, to make him melt like a disagreeable blob into the carpet.

But there seemed little hope of that. All too physically substantial, he continued to stand there by the open doorway. Then, with a shrug, he observed, ‘But maybe it wasn’t important.’ And, with that, apparently dismissing both her and her problem as of no further interest to him whatsoever, he proceeded to cross the room, right in front of her, heading for the door to the Duke’s inner sanctum.

Damned impertinence! ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ No one was allowed in there without her brother’s permission!

Matthew totally ignored her admonition. Even as she stood there, bristling with indignation, he pushed the door open and disappeared inside.

Caterina was after him like a shot. ‘Excuse me! If you don’t mind...!’ But in the open doorway she paused and blinked in disbelief. This was too much, surely, even for the monstrous Matthew Allenby?

He was standing by the huge carved mahogany desk that stood beneath a painting of Rino, the capital city, executed by the Italian master Canaletto during a visit to San Rinaldo in 1739. And he was picking up a pile of papers that lay there on the desk and riffling through them as bold as brass!

Not even Caterina would have had the nerve to do such a thing. No, not nerve. Nerve didn’t come into it, she corrected herself swiftly. What this was was a case of barefaced insolence!

‘Put those papers down at once!’ She was hurtling towards him. ‘How dare you? Nobody touches the Duke’s private papers!’

He did not put them down. He did not even deign to look at her. He just continued, unperturbed, with his insolent riffling.

‘Didn’t you hear what I said?’

‘Yes, I heard.’

And still he riffled.

‘Then why don’t you do as I tell you? Put those papers down this instant!’

She was standing right next to him, her eyes on his hands, which hadn’t so much as paused in their insolent work, and suddenly she noticed something she’d never noticed before. He had exceedingly beautiful hands. Sinuous and very masculine, with long, dexterous fingers, sure and swift in their movements.

But what the devil was she doing admiring his hands? A little shocked at herself, Caterina flicked her eyes to his face, with its high, sculpted cheekbones and arrogantly curved nose.

‘Mr Allenby, I’m warning you. Put those papers down at once!’

‘I’ll put them down, Lady Caterina, when I find what I’m looking for.’

Still he did not look at her. Still his fingers kept on searching.

It was too much for Caterina. ‘I said put them down!’ And she reached out angrily to snatch the papers from him.

‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you.’

Her hand never even made contact with the papers. Quick as a flash, Matthew caught her firmly by the wrist, his grip a band of steel pinning her to the spot, making something flare hotly and unexpectedly inside her.

‘We don’t want your brother’s papers getting damaged, do we?’ The iron-grey eyes pierced through her like bayonets. ‘And let’s get something straight.’ His tone was as taut as a crossbow. ‘I don’t take orders from anyone, and very definitely not from you. I work for your brother. He hired me to do jobs for him. And you, I’m afraid, my dear Lady Caterina, don’t enter into the picture at all.’

There was no trace of the famous Matthew Allenby charm now. What she was seeing was the real man, ruthless and dangerous, though this was only the civilised tip of the iceberg, of course. Caterina felt a shiver touch her spine at the thought of the dark savagery beneath.

Yet she did not back down. She tossed her glossy bobbed head at him. ‘That’s where you’re wrong! I do enter into the picture! As his sister, I have a duty to protect the Duke’s interests. You have no right to go rummaging through his private papers!’

‘I’m sorry but I do. Every right, as it happens. Your brother asked me to pick up certain papers from his desk and that is precisely what I’m doing.’

He continued to hold her, his fingers cool around her wrist. ‘So, you see, all your moral outrage is really quite misplaced.’