Claimed by the Italian. Christina Hollis

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Claimed by the Italian - Christina Hollis


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if she’d been mud-wrestling! And she’d been at such pains to smarten herself up for her encounter with the new owner of the Hall!

      But it was worth it when she was on the receiving end of a huge grin of gratitude. ‘I can’t thank you enough! You’ve saved my life! All I can say is I hope someone comes to your rescue if you ever need it!’

      Finding her slight shoulders grasped, and a kiss planted on both cheeks, Lily could only grin as the woman drove away, then returned to her own car to scrub as much of the mud as she could from her hands and shoes with the few tissues left in the box. But there was nothing she could do about the awful state of her raincoat.

      Hopefully, her unlovely appearance wouldn’t have the new owner slamming the door in her face. On the whole people were responsive to good causes. On which strengthening thought, she turned into the long, tree-lined driveway to Felton Hall, her spirits rising when she saw the stranded woman’s car parked beside a top-of-the-range Lexus, then wobbling as she recalled how the distraught female had said things that made her boss sound like a monster!

      But she wasn’t going to back away now. She grasped the iron bell-pull and gave a decisive tug.

      Having waved aside Penny Fleming’s excuses, Paolo Venini had handed her the architect’s folder and the other papers she needed to review before the next day’s meeting. He had almost finished succinctly briefing her when the ancient doorbell clanged discordantly. ‘See who that is and get rid of them!’

      Pacing the book-lined study, he glanced at his watch. The bank’s private jet was on standby. It would take him roughly an hour to reach the airport—less if he really put his foot down. What was keeping the woman? How long could it take to open a door and tell whoever was standing there to go away?

      He had all the instincts of a high-achiever, and aggression in the face of tardiness and delay was one of them. It drew his dark brows down in a frown, which deepened as a conciliatory-looking Penny Fleming emerged from the doorway with that grubby beggar-girl in tow!

      Exasperated, Paolo drew in a deep breath, about to tell his usually robotically efficient PA that unless she got her act together she would be fired, and to remember that he didn’t give that warning twice. But, no doubt to forestall the expected verbal onslaught, she rushed in.

      ‘This is Lily. She works for a local charity. Is there anything she could take for a jumble sale?’

      Madonna diavola! He was beset by fools! And the creature he’d clearly mistaken for a beggar this morning looked like a charity case herself!

      But he was not an ungenerous man. He gave handsomely to many worthy causes.

      He addressed the scrawny, mud-stained female. ‘What is the charity?’

      Lily swallowed. This was the drop-dead gorgeous guy who had had such a weird effect on her this morning. He might be fantastic to look at, but, boy, did those eyes turn into shards of gold ice as he looked at her! He probably had a heart of pure ice to match!

      When Penny, as she’d named herself, had opened the door and listened to her request with evident sympathy, Lily’s confidence had soared. Especially when Penny informed her in a whisper that she believed her boss was indeed unlikely to want to keep the contents of the house, and one good turn deserved another so she’d see what she could do.

      Lily could see he was impatient. That sensual mouth had compressed above a rock-solid jaw. He probably didn’t do patience either!

      She answered belatedly, but as firmly as she could. ‘My great-aunt started Life Begins ten years ago. I help.’ Encouraged by the way Penny gave her elbow a squeeze, she ploughed on. ‘We help old people locally. Practical stuff, like shopping, cleaning, helping them stay in their own homes if they fall outside the social security net, driving—’

      ‘Basta! Enough.’ He slashed through the increasingly confident spiel. She had amazing eyes. Clear. Innocent. Honest. And the quickest way to get back to serious matters was to just let her have what she wanted. ‘Wait in the hall. When she is free, Miss Fleming will help you decide what’s suitable.’

      Dismissed from The Presence. Heartfelt words of thanks tripped from her widely smiling mouth as she backed out of the room. But he wasn’t listening—was already turning to answer the phone that had begun to ring. Telling herself that she didn’t care, didn’t mind being got rid of as if she were a really insignificant and annoying irritant, Lily waited as directed. She had got what she’d come for. His permission to walk away with the sort of stuff that would persuade the punters to part with their hard-earned cash and put Life Begins in a slightly more viable financial position.

      His eyes haunted, Paolo ended the call, ignored Penny Fleming’s ‘Are you all right, sir?’ and strode from the study, his mind made up.

      There was only one thing to do. As always, when presented with a problem, his agile brain came up with the solution at the speed of light.

      The consultant’s call had confirmed his worst fears—fears that gripped his heart in an icy fist. His mother didn’t have long to live. That had been the underlying message he’d picked up from behind the medical jargon. He would make her last hours on this earth happy. It was the least he could do.

      And that scruffy charity worker would be stupid to turn down a decent donation in return for helping him out.

      CHAPTER TWO

      HAD he changed his mind? Lily questioned uneasily as, with her elbow held in a grip of steel, she was as good as frogmarched back into the study.

      Had he suddenly decided she was up to no good, intent on emptying his house and making off with the proceeds in the name of some fictitious charity?

      She certainly felt uncomfortably like a criminal as he curtly dismissed his PA and commanded her to ‘Sit!’ as if he were training a disobedient dog.

      Lily’s face flushed scarlet. Who did he think he was? ‘Now, look here—’

      But one killing flash of those golden eyes silenced her, had her obeying, perching on the edge of the chair in front of the huge desk. As if satisfied by her compliance, he strode to the other side, but didn’t sit. Just loomed.

      He was looking at her as if she were some previously undiscovered life form. Lily squirmed.

      ‘Are you trustworthy?’

      Taken aback, Lily gaped. So she was right—he thought she was a conwoman!

      ‘Well?’

      Of all the nasty, ill-tempered, suspicious—! Affronted now, she lifted her pointed chin, her eyes cooling to glacial grey, and gave him a dignified reply. ‘Of course I’m trustworthy. I’ll only take what Penny says I may. And if you want to check my credentials—’

      A slashing movement of one lean, long-fingered hand effectively silenced her again. ‘Take what you like. This isn’t about that. I want to know if, in return for a sizeable donation to your charity, you will allow me to use your name and keep silent about the transaction—now and in the future.’

      Lily’s eyes widened in astonishment, her soft mouth dropping open. ‘Use my name?’ Staring at the forceful set of his jaw, those mesmerisingly beautiful eyes, the harsh slant of his cheekbones and the way his sensual mouth was clamped in irritation, she could only imagine he’d either gone mad or was embroiled in some dodgy scheme or other.

      Whichever, she wanted no part of it! ‘What on earth for?’ she demanded, unconsciously aping her great-aunt’s stentorian tone—the tone used to great effect on the rare occasions when the forthright old lady was displeased.

      One sable eyebrow rose in amazement that such imperious volume could issue from such a scrawny scrap of a thing. A disarming hint of a smile appeared, and two hands were expressively spread.

      ‘I don’t have time to go into detail. But last night my mother collapsed. Hospital tests reveal she has a brain tumour. The operation takes place the day after tomorrow. The


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