A Ring To Take His Revenge. Pippa Roscoe

She battled on through the oddness of the situation. ‘Do you have any parameters for this search? Wealth, previous marital status, level of attractiveness...?’ She was desperately thinking of a polite way to say bra size when she registered with some surprise Antonio’s confusion. He clearly hadn’t thought this through.

      ‘Reputation. She must be scandal-free.’

      Emma fought to contain the rather un-ladylike snort that tickled her nose. It sounded as if he were looking to buy a prize heifer with an up-to-date vaccination history. Which made her wonder, horrified for a moment, whether the poor woman in question might in fact be required to present a full medical history.

      ‘And I need her within two days.’

      ‘Antonio, I’m not Amazon Prime. I can’t just produce a...a fiancée,’ she whispered harshly, fearing that she might be overheard, or even accused of some kind of highly salacious ‘procurement’ for her boss. ‘Perhaps if you could explain the...the context, it might be slightly easier for me to...to understand what’s needed.’

      She knew she was stumbling over her words but, given his current mood, she clearly had to choose them wisely.

      ‘I am about to set up a meeting with Benjamin Bartlett, who is touting for investment in his company. A company in which I must be the sole investor. And, being a notoriously moral man, Bartlett might be reluctant to involve himself with Arcuri Enterprises given...’ He trailed off, circling his hands in a typically Italian gesture.

      ‘Given your recent experience with Inga the Swedish—?’

      ‘I know what she was, Ms Guilham,’ Antonio cut in.

      ‘Quite. So you need a beard?’

      Antonio’s hand went to the smooth planes of his chiselled jaw. ‘A beard?’

      ‘Not that kind of beard,’ she said, suppressing the smile that toyed at the edges of her mouth. ‘You need a fake fiancée to mask your previous indiscretions so that Bartlett will find you more palatable and therefore be more likely to welcome your investment.’

      ‘In a nutshell, yes.’

      ‘And am I to presume that all of this—’ she said mirrored his Italian gesture ‘—needs to be kept under wraps? No one is to know about this, as well as the research into Bartlett?’

      He nodded his dark-haired head once. ‘There is another party interested in investing with Bartlett. My interest cannot get out to that person—or any other for that matter.’

      The darkness of the warning in his voice was something that Emma hadn’t yet encountered in her boss. And that in itself was enough to inform her that this wasn’t to be taken lightly.

      Her quick mind filed the top-line notes of his request. ‘Okay. I’m going to need to clear your schedule tomorrow evening.’

      This was why Emma was good, Antonio thought to himself. Apart from the slight slip-up of her earlier sarcasm, which he would happily put down to surprise, when she took on a task she was efficient, direct and held none of the self-doubt he had seen in staff twice her age.

      He knew her announcement of his change of plan for tomorrow would be wholly and one hundred per cent in line with her new-found task. A task that she hadn’t balked at, and had only posed pertinent questions on. Mostly.

      ‘Done.’

      ‘I’ll have your blue tuxedo sent to the dry cleaners and prepared for the gala.’

      ‘What gala?’ Antonio queried.

      ‘The Arcuri Foundation’s yearly charity gala. You are usually in Italy during these two weeks, which is why you are never sent an invitation.’

      ‘We have a charity gala?’

      For the first time in eighteen months Antonio was surprised to see something like anger in Emma Guilham’s eyes.

      ‘Yes, we do.’ She paused, once again masking her obvious feelings on the matter with her legendarily cool gaze. ‘And it will be the perfect place for you to find a fiancée.’