One Night In His Bed. Christina Hollis
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avoid its siren song was to put a few thousands miles and complete radio silence between him and his headquarters. The moment he tried to log in to the office computer system his staff would be on his case like kids mobbing a tomcat. He needed space, and time to think.
Garett put one hand in his pocket. It was only the third time he had checked for the hire-car keys since they’d been handed to him. He must be slowing down. As he thought that, he noticed another change in himself. Strolling through these airless city passageways with a nervous stranger should have been hell—a horrible reminder of what he had escaped. Instead, he found himself actually enjoying the sensation of not being expected to make conversation. What was happening to him?
Without realising it, he slowed his walk still further. It gave him the chance to look around for once. Lifting his gaze from the pavement, he sent it up to where the tenement canyons showed a strip of sky. The silhouette of a woman with bulky breasts and a wayward home perm loomed out of an upstairs window. She was holding a big juice container. With a shout of cheerful warning she poured water from it into her flower boxes. A noisy cascade of liquid ran out from beneath her billowing scarlet geraniums, darkening the front of the apartment block before dripping down to the flagstones.
A trickle ran towards the feet of Garett’s unwilling companion. She was lost in thought and had not noticed the gardener overhead. Now she looked up and frowned at the clear, cloudless sky above.
‘An April shower?’ Garett spoke his thoughts aloud. Then he smiled, realising that for the first time in decades he was thinking about something other than work.
It might not be the whole answer to his problems.
But it was a start.
The car was every bit as beautiful as he’d said it would be. Sienna slid into the passenger seat with a sigh of real longing.
‘Good, isn’t it?’ He smiled, slipping behind the wheel with similar satisfaction.
Sienna nodded, but did not speak. She was determined to keep her head down. Garett Lazlo had not laid a finger on her since letting go of her arm. Whatever her secret feelings about that, she knew she must not encourage him in any way. But modesty was not the only reason for her silence. On the way to the restaurant they would be passing within a few kilometres of Piccia. She could only hope and pray that none of the villagers saw her being driven along in a car like this.
Although I’m the last person anyone would expect to see in a Lamborghini. She smiled to herself. They’d probably write it off as a hallucination, brought on by too much sun.
‘You’re the first girl who’s ever smiled at my driving. They usually squeal and grab at something.’ Garett glanced at her as he pulled away from the kerb. ‘What’s the joke?’
‘N-nothing,’ she said nervously, ‘except that…travelling along like this reminds me of that old song: “If My Friends Could See Me Now”. I was wondering what my stepmother would say if she caught sight of me in this!’ She ran her hand lovingly over the passenger seat. It was made from softest glove-leather, and had the fragrance of money well spent.
His face cleared, and his eyes narrowed with devilment.
‘Let’s call in on her and find out, shall we?’
Sienna was horrified. ‘No! Please don’t! She would kill me! Respectable women aren’t seen in fast cars with strange men.’
‘Why not? Better that, surely, than being spotted in a strange car with a fast man? Are we going to pass your house?’
‘No—thank goodness,’ Sienna said with real feeling. ‘It’s too far from here to take a detour without making you late for your table reservation, signor.’
‘I get the message—you’re keeping me safely at arm’s length. But that’s no reason to be so formal. You can call me Garett.’
Sienna’s lips flickered briefly into a smile. Then it was gone and she looked out of her window again. This was not what he had come to expect from women.
‘Don’t you have a given name, signora?’ he prompted her.
‘Of course, but perhaps we should keep this formal.’ Sienna pursed her lips.
‘I call all the ladies of my acquaintance by their first names, so why not give me yours?’
Sienna took this as an order. She was used to those, but it didn’t make carrying them out any easier. Besides, this was a total stranger. She had to make a stand somehow, and insist on keeping him at a distance. Resisting would overturn everything she had been taught about obedience—but the idea excited her. She had already done one astonishing thing today, by coming this far with him. Why not another?
‘My name is Signora di Imperia.’ She looked at Garett boldly, daring him to challenge her for more information.
One hand on the steering wheel, he watched her with interested eyes. Sienna returned his look. And then, almost imperceptibly, he smiled. Then he transferred his gaze to the road ahead. As he did so, he gave the same small, formal bow of his head he had given the respectable matron back in the market place.
Sienna knew now why the old woman had giggled like a teenager. Garett Lazlo’s talent for melting women with his smallest gesture was at work on her, too. Oh, if only they could exchange more than pleasantries…
After Garett pulled his car into Il Pettirosso’s car park and killed the ignition, he drew out his mobile and made a quick call before getting out.
‘First they’re engaged. Now they’ve switched their damned answering machine on!’ he announced.
Sienna flashed a look at him. His lips were a taut line. A pulse was beating visibly at his temple. But when he finally spoke into the phone his confident tone was in total contrast with his strained features.
‘It’s me,’ he said, without bothering to explain who ‘me’ was. ‘The time is eleven fifty-nine a.m., Tuesday. I’m sitting in Il Pettirosso with my credit card in my hand just waiting to entertain you. So if you want to make the most of this outrageous offer, you’ll get down here for lunch ASAP!’
He ended the call, and then clicked his tongue in disappointment. Shoving the phone back into his pocket, he slammed the door of his hire-car with a report that echoed across the nearby valley like a gunshot. Sienna gulped. As they walked the few metres from his car to the smoked glass door of the restaurant she hoped he would not need her to do much translating for him. If he was cross already, he might not take kindly to having the menu deciphered for him as though he was illiterate.
She need not have worried. They followed in the restaurant manager’s highly polished footsteps to a discreetly placed table for four. Sienna was gazing around in awe at the clean, modern lines of the restaurant, but Garett had his eyes on something much more down to earth.
‘Ah—so that’s what a pettirosso is!’ He pointed to the beautifully painted European robin on the front of his menu. ‘Do you know, there’s a duke in England who has one of these living in the grounds of his historic house that will actually hop onto his hand to be fed?’
Sienna watched him for a minute to see if he was joking. But his smile seemed quite genuine, and she decided to probe further.
‘How do you know?’
‘He does it as a kind of party trick to impress visitors. I think the poor old guy’s lonely. He valued me as much as someone to talk to as a business advisor.’
Sienna raised her eyebrows and lowered her head to study the menu. She did not want Garett to see her amazement at what he had said. A man who talked to dukes was sitting opposite her in the restaurant of her dreams! She tried to concentrate on the list of dishes before her, but that made her feel still more nervous. Il Pettirosso offered everything from asparagus to zucchini. She had no idea what to select, nor—more importantly—how much of his money Garett would be willing to spend on her.
‘Choose what you