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