CHAPTER ONE

      LUCA MORETTI NEEDED a wife. Not a real one—heaven forbid he’d ever need that. No, he needed a temporary wife-to-be who was efficient, biddable, and discreet. A wife for the weekend.

      ‘Mr Moretti?’ His PA, Hannah Stewart, knocked once on the door before opening it and stepping inside his penthouse office overlooking a rain-washed Lombard Street in London’s City. ‘I have the letters for you to sign.’

      Luca watched his PA walk towards him holding the sheaf of letters, her light brown hair neatly pulled back, her face set in calm lines. She wore a black pencil skirt, low heels, and a simple blouse of white silk. He’d never really bothered to notice his PA before, except at how quickly she could type and how discreet she could be when it came to unfortunate personal calls that occasionally came through to his office. Now he eyed her plain brown hair, and lightly freckled face that was pretty without being in any way remarkable. As for her figure...?

      Luca let his gaze wander down his PA’s slender form. No breathtaking or bodacious curves, but it was passable.

      Could he...?

      She placed the letters in front of him and took a step back, but not before he caught a waft of her understated floral perfume. He reached for his fountain pen and began to scrawl his signature on each letter.

      ‘Will that be all, Mr Moretti?’ she asked when he’d finished the last one.

      ‘Yes.’ He handed her the letters and Hannah turned towards the door, her skirt whispering against her legs as she walked. Luca watched her, eyes narrowed, certainty settling in his gut. ‘Wait.’

      Obedient as ever, Hannah pivoted back to face him, her pale eyebrows raised expectantly. She’d been a good PA these last three years, working hard and not making a fuss about it. He sensed ambition and willpower beneath her ‘aiming to please’ persona, and the weekend would require both qualities, as long as she agreed to the deception. Which he would make sure she did.

      ‘Mr Moretti?’

      Luca lounged back in his chair as he drummed his fingers on his desk. He didn’t like lying. He’d been honest his whole life, proud of who he was even though so many had knocked him back, tried to keep him down. But this weekend was different. This weekend was everything to him, and Hannah Stewart was no more than a cog in his plans. A very important cog.

      ‘I have an important meeting this weekend.’

      ‘Yes, on Santa Nicola,’ Hannah replied. ‘Your ticket is in your passport wallet, and the limo is set to pick you up tomorrow morning at nine, from your flat. The flight leaves from Heathrow at noon.’

      ‘Right.’ He hadn’t known any of those details, but he’d expected Hannah to inform him. She really was quite marvellously efficient. ‘It turns out I’m going to need some assistance,’ he said.

      Hannah’s eyebrows went a fraction higher, but her face remained calm. ‘Administrative assistance, you mean?’

      Luca hesitated. He didn’t have time to explain his intentions now, and he suspected that his PA would balk at what he was about to ask. ‘Yes, that’s right.’ He could tell Hannah was surprised although she hid it well.

      ‘What exactly do you require?’

      A wife. A temporary, compliant woman. ‘I require you to accompany me to Santa Nicola for the weekend.’ Luca hadn’t asked Hannah to accompany him on any business trips before; he preferred to travel and work alone, having been a solitary person from childhood. When you were alone you didn’t have to be on your guard, waiting for someone to trip you up. There were no expectations save the ones you put on yourself.

      Luca knew that Hannah’s contract stipulated ‘extra hours or engagements as required’, and in the past she’d been willing to work long evenings, the occasional Saturday. He smiled, his eyebrows raised expectantly.