Chapter Four

      MEG loved his idea, in theory. In practice, she felt the sort of parties thrown by a social butterfly like Gianni would be as nerve-racking for her as a week at the Chelsea Flower Show.

      ‘I can’t argue with that,’ she said tactfully.

      ‘I’m so glad, Megan.’ He gave her a knowing smile. ‘In which case, you can take the rest of the day off to go and find something suitable to wear.’

      Meg moved uneasily in her seat. She didn’t have much experience of clothes-buying. Money had always been in short supply at home so she tended to buy things with an eye to durability rather than fashion.

      ‘There’s no need to waste a lovely afternoon shopping. I’ll go into town on my next day off.’

      Gianni looked pleasantly surprised at this, but Meg’s next words definitely didn’t impress him.

      ‘Or…I can make do with the skirt and jacket I arrived in,’ she said with a flash of relief at the thought she might avoid shopping altogether. ‘It looks nice and official.’

      Gianni gasped. ‘Megan! It’s black!’ he said incredulously. ‘That’s fine for meetings, but I’m organising a banquet. And nobody on my staff “makes do”. You’ll need something new and spectacular…hmm, in the same shade of blue as your eyes, I think. Yes—that would set off the rest of your colouring perfectly. As for the style—the skirt you wore the day you arrived was good. Very good,’ he repeated with relish. ‘It showed off your legs to great effect.’

      ‘Neither you, nor your visitors should be interested in my legs,’ Meg said stiffly.

      ‘I’m a man. But, then, you noticed that a long time ago, didn’t you?’ Gianni countered her disapproving expression with a winning smile. ‘You are my only female head of department. I must have some small consolations in my life. To see you holding court dressed like a princess will make up for leaving the clubs of Florence behind me, and filling my home with overweight, boring businessmen, Megan.’

      When he said that, Meg’s common sense almost flew out of the window. It took every ounce of her will-power not to fall for his line. She knew he must spin similar stories to a new girl every night. But that was so hard to remember when his words, and the way he looked directly into her eyes as he spoke them, combined with those richly Mediterranean looks. She had to keep reminding herself that it was all part of a devastating plot. Gianni was putting her at her ease, softening her up before he moved in for the kill…

      Meg knew she would have to try and turn his interest to her advantage. With a supreme effort, she forced out a few coherent words.

      ‘Acting as an ambassador for you will be a great opportunity to show my skills to a wider audience. I’ll be able to network with people who can be useful to us both. I think it’s a great idea, Gianni. Do you have any other suggestions about what I should wear?’

      For the second time in as many minutes he was visibly surprised by her words. His scrutiny became slightly less seductive, but much more wary.

      ‘Hmm…I’m beginning to think I may have misjudged you, Megan. If you’re so uncertain about clothes, you need specialist advice. I’m not running the risk of you turning up in chain-store chic, no matter how chic that can be. A girl like you may be able to make a potato sack look sexy, but that’s not the point. When I hold a party, the Villa Castelfino is out to impress. The extra sheen designer labels can give you will be well worth seeing.’

      He stood up and went around to sit behind his desk again. After making a quick request through his intercom, he folded his hands on his desk. In that position he looked every inch the successful businessman. Meg could only marvel at the transformation from seducer to tycoon, but nothing could stop his true spirit gleaming through his patina of ruthless efficiency for long.

      ‘There—I’ve had the best shops in Florence put on standby. I’ve got accounts with all these…’ opening a drawer in his desk, he pulled out an indexed folder and dropped it onto his blotter ‘…and I send women in there all the time to treat themselves to pretty things,’ he said airily.

      Meg hoped he meant business-wear for the girls from his outer office. The secret smile playing around his lips as he peeled the top copy from a pile of papers made her doubt that very much.

      ‘Any one of these places will soon fix you up with something sexy but suitable.’

      He slid a single sheet of paper across the desk towards her. Meg picked it up and looked at the neatly printed list of designer names. The only place she had seen them before was in glossy magazines in the dentist’s waiting room back in England. She stared at it, wondering how she would have the nerve to cross the threshold of any of the shops on his list.

      ‘Any thoughts?’ he said nonchalantly.

      Meg didn’t know how to put them into words. Her parents’ debts had indirectly cost her the job of her dreams. Now she had worked her way up to an even better career, was it going to bankrupt her?

      ‘All these places sound pretty…exclusive,’ she said carefully.

      ‘You don’t think I’d bother opening accounts with anywhere less than perfect?’

      Meg pursed her lips. She had managed to persuade Gianni not to sack her once. If she disagreed with him over this, he might change his mind. Her fear of snooty shop assistants looking down on her fought with her terror of poverty. She had seen how that could wreck lives. It wasn’t something she could face a second time. Her wages for working on the Castelfino estate meant she would be able to send impressive amounts of money home each month. Although the Imsey family’s plant centre was thriving now, Meg knew how narrow the line was between comfort and disaster. Her mother and father had teetered along that tightrope for too long in the past. She wanted to make sure they had plenty of funds to withstand whatever life might throw at them in the future. This job was a magnificent opportunity to build up a nest egg for them. That way, she could be sure bankruptcy wasn’t lurking around every corner.

      ‘Of course not—and that’s what worries me,’ she confessed. ‘I need every penny of my wages. Shops like the ones on this list probably charge a fee for looking in their windows!’

      Gianni leaned across his desk toward her, wrinkling his brow. ‘That’s what accounts are for, Megan. Everything will be charged to me. You won’t pay a cent.’ He used the slow, carefully enunciated speech usually reserved for speaking to small children.

      She almost collapsed with relief. Then she realised she might be walking straight into a trap. The bait was sweet as honey, but she had one exceptionally good reason not to take it. Exactly how thankful would Gianni expect her to be? Her body wanted to get closer to him, there was no denying that. This would give