The Count of Castelfino (9 page)

He reached out and pulled an alpine strawberry from one of the floral decorations lined along the refreshment table. A tiny bud hung against the rosy cheek of the ripe fruit. Its stem was as fine as embroidery thread. Scrutinising it with the air of an expert, he saw a perfect flower in miniature, severed from its parent too early. It would never get the chance to flourish and fulfil its promise now. He held it out to Meg.

She shook her head. ‘There weren’t many ripe fruits available—you have it.’

‘No. I’ve had my fill of perfection. This strawberry may taste as good as it looks, but that isn’t always the way,’ he said at last, thinking back over his life. ‘It’s yours.’

He raised the berry to Meg’s lips. Obediently, she bit into it. The effect was magical. It was softly, sweetly, fragrant, and everything a strawberry should be. She sighed.

‘I can’t believe anything could be better than that.’

Gianni felt seduction warming his smile. Unwilling to betray everything that was going through his mind, he soon put a stop to it.

‘Oh, no? But I have a second treat in store for you,
cara
. Don’t say you’ve forgotten?’

Everything about his voice told her he was no longer talking about fruit. In a visible agony of anticipation, Meg
waited. Gianni began to stroll away, throwing her a few words over his shoulder.

‘Come on, Eve. Let’s go and find your Garden of Eden.’

The gardens around the Villa Castelfino were a magical place at night. Lanterns fuelled with perfumed wax had been hung from every tree. In their soft light the flowers Meg tended so carefully took on an ethereal quality. Airy canopies of verbena and tobacco plants shimmered in the gloom. As Gianni led her into the new greenhouse complex their shadows danced in the light cast by thousands of fairy lights threaded through the plants. Without realising what she was doing, Meg pressed a button to override the ventilation system and put on some more air.

‘I didn’t bring you out here to work,’ Gianni said severely. ‘My father’s plans showed fully automatic systems throughout this entire crystal palace.’

‘In my opinion there’s no substitute for the human touch.’

She spoke without thinking, and instantly wondered if he would pick up on her words. When he said nothing, she began talking quickly to fill the silence. ‘What do you think of your father’s memorial? You need the proper greenhouse lighting to appreciate the plants. I’ll switch it on, and turn these coloured ones off—’

‘No—stop. The effect is perfect for what I have to say, Megan.’

She was already walking on into the first bay of the greenhouse. Gianni followed her. She stopped. He came to a halt only when he was close enough for his breath to ruffle the crown of her head.

‘I have a proposition to put to you,’ he added softly.

Meg whirled around. He smiled down at her in a way
that answered all the questions she would never be able to ask.

‘What sort of proposition?’ Meg said when she could manage to speak.

‘The very best sort.’ Tearing his gaze from her, he cast a critical look around the high, airy structure of the greenhouse. Meg’s design was so perfect it looked like a tropical glade. Branches hung with orchids and bromeliads rose from a soft mossy bed studded with tiny bright flowers in every shade of amber, ruby and rose opal. The sound of water trickling over a rock face into a shallow pool completed the lush effect. Locked in behind the safety of the kitchen garden walls, Meg and Gianni were alone in her idea of paradise.

‘Are you as hot as I am?’ He passed one hand over his brow, his breath escaping in a hiss. Meg couldn’t bear to think of dark patches ruining the effect of her new designer dress. Slipping off her jacket, she laid it over the nearest branch.

‘Before the banquet you tried to tell me you were nervous, but now you’re stripping off!’ he teased her gently. ‘Don’t say my delicate little English Rose is turning into a man eater!’

‘Lovely as this is, it’s still my place of work,’ she said with uncomfortable, shy embarrassment. ‘I feel overdressed.’

‘So do I. May I take off my jacket, too?’

‘Of course.’

Once he had removed it, he released the knot of his tie and let it fall loose.

‘I can’t apologise enough for the way Signora Ricci treated you tonight, Megan. It was unforgivable, even though she has good reason to be bitter. She wants me,’ he explained without a flicker of embarrassment.

Every woman must want you,
Meg thought,
especially me
…

‘I could see that by the way she spent all evening eyeing you up,’ she told him. ‘I could also see she didn’t think much of me.’

‘That’s why I want to make it up to you, Megan. You’re already my ideal employee, hard-working, discreet, and with perfect manners. You put on such a spectacular display tonight, both with your flowers and with the way you coped under pressure. I’d like to offer you an enhanced position, shall we say?’ His words were serious, but his beautiful eyes were laughing. ‘The fact is, I’d like you to take on a much more hands-on role in my household,
carissima
…’

His final word was a caress as intimate as his touch. He laid his hands lightly on her silk-clad shoulders. When she didn’t move, he allowed the tip of one finger to stray beneath the material of her sleeveless dress.

‘I’m still not quite sure what you’re saying…’ she ventured, and then tried to make a nervous joke out of the situation. ‘I mean, it’s not as though you’re about to pull out an engagement ring, is it? ‘As she looked up at him her gaze was steady, totally unlike the unruly thunder of her heart.

‘Of course not—but you’re on the right track. You must know what I’m about to propose?’ Gianni looked at her closely. Beneath the dozens of tiny coloured lights his eyes were as bright as polished jet, but they dimmed as he realised she had no idea what he was talking about. ‘So…you’re telling me you have no idea what’s on offer?’ he said slowly.

Meg shook her head. Watching him, it became obvious
that his natural good manners were fighting a losing battle with something wild and untameable. He looked up and down the shadowy greenhouse. As he did so he rolled his lower lip over his bottom teeth, holding back some remark. Meg watched him suffer until she couldn’t stand it any longer.

‘What is it, Gianni?’ she asked softly.

‘I want you to be perfectly clear what I have in mind for you, Megan. It isn’t marriage. That is an entirely different contract. And don’t even
think
about love. I’m incapable of that.’

Meg’s heart began to race so fast she could hear it. She ought to run—hide, do anything but stay with a man who was about to tempt her beyond all endurance. Whatever Gianni said now, she was lost. One way or another, she was about to surrender her whole future to him. She looked up at him in spellbound fascination, not knowing whether to smile or escape while she still could.

He carried on in a low, level voice. ‘In my world, marriage is a dry legal process: it’s entirely about inheritance and money. It’s nothing to do with the way a man needs a woman. It deals only in cold, hard common sense. When I marry, Megan, it will be for the sake of dynasty and ambition. I shall marry an Italian woman who can bring even more wealth and status into the Bellini fold. A man like me finds his pleasures outside that old institution.’ His voice dwindled to a whisper. Meg leaned forward, trying to catch his words. Gianni moved in to meet her. His right hand now strayed up to stroke her cheek with a touch as light as thistledown. ‘On the other hand, when it comes to choosing a mistress I can afford to look much further afield. And I’ve chosen you, Megan.’

She had to be dreaming. Gianni’s hand idled up to her hair, and then down again, revelling in its silken smoothness. Afraid he might stop if she moved, she stood as still as a statue. Only when he continued his downward exploration, reaching her waist and drawing her in towards his body, did she dare to think it might really be happening. Moulding into the warm, solid power of him felt like the most natural thing in the world.

‘You showed me when you first arrived that you’re a woman who can stand up for herself,’ he went on, ‘and I respect that. But if you’re going to try and resist me, Megan, I should warn you that no woman has ever succeeded.’

Meg gazed up at him, unblinking. She could believe it. She waited, and then realised he was waiting, too. It was an invitation for her to try and defy his words. She couldn’t do it. For long, agonising seconds she floated in the dark depths of Gianni’s gaze. They both knew that once the tiny distance between them was breached, there could be no going back.

‘There’s a first time for everything,’ Meg managed eventually. Her voice was nothing more than a breathless whisper.

Gianni lowered his long dark lashes and slowly nodded his head. ‘And forbidden fruits taste sweetest,’ he reminded her.

She looked up sharply. It sounded as though he had guessed her secret, and with it the real meaning behind her words. The wicked smile dancing around his lips suggested that discovery would make her all the more desirable.

‘I want you, Megan,’ he whispered.

His honeyed words trickled through her body like warm
water. Her hands gripped his arms. In that instant his mouth clamped over hers. It was firm and possessive, a reassurance that took away all her fears and common sense at the same time. Meg knew this was mad, dangerous and totally wrong, but for once in her life she didn’t care. She simply relaxed into his embrace and let his passion engulf her. It was far too wonderful to resist, but she knew she had to make a token effort.

‘We can’t, Gianni.
I
can’t.’

Sliding one hand beneath her chin, he lifted her face. First he placed a kiss on the tip of her nose. Then the need to kiss her properly again overwhelmed him. Meg was powerless to stop him, but when he lifted his lips gently from hers a second time he murmured, ‘Of course we can. When I show you how good it can be you’ll never want another man.’

‘I know…oh, how I know…’ Her voice was drifting away with the last of her self-control but there was something he had to know. ‘But, Gianni…I can’t, really. I don’t know how. I’ve only had one serious relationship, and that ended because he tried to come between me and my work. What I’m trying to say is…I don’t know how to love.’ She finished in a rush. Gianni froze, and began to pull away from her. When her hands clenched convulsively on his sleeves, he stopped.

‘Are you saying you’re scared, Megan? That I’m frightening you?’

‘No! Nothing could be further from the truth.’

Gianni took her gently in his arms again. This time he cradled her as though she were crafted from finest porcelain.

‘Then what is to stop us having the very best of times?
You have no need to worry about love where I’m concerned. I don’t know what the word means, either. Certainly, I’ve never seen it in action.’

She pressed her face against the crisp white warmth of his shirt, desperate to hide her embarrassment. Kissing him felt so right, but in all the wrong ways. She was a virgin, with nothing to offer an experienced man of the world. She wasn’t qualified for making love with him once, let alone agreeing to be his mistress! ‘This is wonderful, Gianni, but as for taking it any further…I’ve got no experience…’

‘Ah-h-h…’ he murmured, his hands beginning a slow dance over the smooth silk of her dress. ‘So you’re a virgin?’

‘It’s a bit old-fashioned, I know, but s-sex has never happened for me.’ She had difficulty saying the word. ‘I was always too busy…I did have a long-term boyfriend, but every time he threatened to come between me and my studies, I backed off,’ she whispered into the warm confessional of his arms.

‘Then that is what I must do now,
mio dolce
,’ he said softly.

That was a shock; it hurt desperately to hear his rejection. ‘No! Why?’ She looked up at him in anguish.

‘You mustn’t take a life changing decision in the space of a few seconds,’ he warned, but she was determined.

‘If only you knew, Gianni. I’ve waited so long for this experience, and passed up so many opportunities. My focus was always on something else, but now it’s my turn to make a decision. I want experience. I want to know what it’s like to live as other people do. When I watch you with women, you all seem to be members of some wonderful secret society. I’m sentenced always to be an outsider. I
need a taste of real life, Gianni. I’ve spent years concentrating on my work. Now I want you to be the man who shows me what I’ve been missing!’

He was quiet for a moment, while his fingertips danced delicately over her back.

‘Are you sure?’ he said at last.

‘I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, Gianni. Take me,’ she whispered simply.

Outside in the dusk a nightingale poured out its heart in an ecstasy of song. Acting on visceral instinct, Gianni dipped his head and touched his lips to her neck. Meg gasped, revelling in the experience. It was an invitation he couldn’t refuse. He wanted to go on enjoying the anticipation of what was to come, but the temptation was too great. Suddenly he was kissing her with more power and passion than she had experienced in her whole life. His tongue urged into her mouth. She let him explore with a relish that had been building since the moment they first met. This felt so right. For the first time in months—years—she was free to put herself first. She had been waiting for so long. Her needs and desires surged in a tumble of excitement. Her hands went up to his head, clawing at his hair to pull him closer. Hungry for his kisses, she was desperate for his attention. His fingertips felt hot through the thin silk of her dress. They circled over her back, ran up and down over her ribs with the sweet certainty of possession. Meg undulated beneath him until the soft pale skin of her inner thigh was rubbing against his leg. It brought back all the turmoil his caresses had as they danced. Now they could release all that pent up passion in one wild moment. She threw back her head with a gasp.

‘Oh, Gianni…’ she called out, and he was there to answer her cry.

‘Good, isn’t it?’ he purred. The low resonance of his voice was so delicious she could almost taste him.