The force of his reply didn’t stop her. She advanced with another laugh and stuck out her hand in greeting.
‘Good grief, I never would have believed it. You’ve changed—all those girlfriends must be running you ragged, signor!’
‘What are you doing here?’ he enquired in a voice like cut glass. As he spoke he looked down at her outstretched hand as though he would rather shake a viper by the tail.
She frowned, looking into his face as though searching for recognition.
‘I work for the Count di Castelfino. I’m moving into the Garden Cottage today. Someone usually meets me at the airport, but for some reason the chauffeur didn’t turn up today.’
‘That is because my father is dead. I’m the Count di Castelfino now,’ he announced with crisp formality.
Her smile vanished, and she stared at him in growing horror.
‘Oh…I’m so sorry.’ Helplessly she looked from the taxi, to her heap of suitcases and then back to him. ‘How crass of me to arrive in such a flurry like this…C-can I ask what happened?’
‘He suffered a stroke some days ago, in Paris. He died yesterday—no, the day before—’
Shaking his head, Gianni raised one hand and dragged it wearily down over his face. The rasp of stubble under his palm was loud and intrusive in the horrible, thick silence.
‘I—I’m so sorry…’ she repeated, her voice soft and insubstantial.
Exactly like her, Gianni thought instinctively, before silently cursing his reactions again.
‘You weren’t to know. I didn’t know you were expected. That’s why no one was sent to meet you. I was only driven back here an hour ago.’ Distracted, he looked across at the taxi and pulled out his wallet. ‘I’m afraid you’ve had a wasted journey. You’ll have to go back to wherever you came from. How did you get past my security guards at the gate, in any case?’
Her eyes opened wider and wider as he spoke until they looked like two clear reflections of the cobalt sky.
‘They were expecting me…my name is on today’s visitor list…so they just waved my taxi straight through…’ Her voice was faint. As it faltered still further he had to lean closer to hear what she was saying. ‘But I can’t go back…all the plants here will need someone to look after them. The count—the old count—would have wanted them cared for properly…’
Gianni shook his head. ‘I’m the Count di Castelfino now, and I have my own plans. It’s the start of a new regime. There’s no room here for anything that doesn’t pay its way. Whatever projects my father may have had in mind won’t be going ahead. I’m in charge now, and my interests are much more practical.’
As he spoke he saw the heaven of her eyes become cloudy and misted with tears. She shrank visibly, and when she spoke her voice was barely more than a whisper.
‘You can’t mean that, signor?’
‘I’m afraid so. The Castelfino vineyard is my only concern. I’m interested in practical projects, not hobbies.’
Springing lightly down from the terrace, he started to walk towards the taxi. Because old habits couldn’t be shaken off, he put a comforting arm around her shoulder to lead her in the same direction. ‘Don’t worry, signorina. I’ll pay your taxi fare back to the airport. By the time you get there, my staff will have phoned through and arranged a return ticket for you. Where did you fly from, by the way?’
‘Heathrow—but—’
As they reached the open passenger door of the taxi Gianni took his arm away from her. After pressing far too much money into the taxi driver’s hand, he swivelled on his heel and walked off. As he headed back to the villa he threw a few disjointed words over his shoulder at her.
‘I’m sorry you’ve had a wasted journey, signorina. Goodbye.’
Closing a mental door firmly in her face, he forced himself to push thoughts of her inviting full lips and big blue eyes right to the back of his mind. He ought to be concentrating on his plans for Castelfino Wines, not distractions like her.
And then a voice interrupted his thoughts, ringing out through the hot, still air.
‘No, thank you, Signor Bellini.’
He stopped and frowned. That wasn’t supposed to happen. If the girl was going to say anything at all, it should have been a diffident ‘yes'. That was the way things worked in Gianni’s universe. People did what he told them to do. While he stood wondering how she could possibly have misunderstood his instructions, he heard a muffled bang. It was followed by the sound of light footsteps in the dust. That made him look back, over his shoulder. What he saw puzzled him still more. The girl had dropped her hand luggage and was running to catch him up.
Gianni Bellini, Conte di Castelfino, thought of all the staff members who would be watching this fiasco from behind the Villa Castelfino’s shutters. They all knew his reputation. The old place must be alive with gossip already. Playboy he might be, but Gianni knew what to do. It wouldn’t hurt to reinforce his authority. When this girl launched her screaming, hysterical scene, he would silence it with a single roar of his own.
He snatched a deep breath, but never got to use it.
‘With all due respect, signor, I think I ought to stay.’
She skidded to a halt, almost within his reach. Her voice had been little more than a whisper. He hadn’t expected that. When she glanced nervously at the front of the house before speaking again she surprised him a second time.
‘For a little while, at least. Please?’
Totally wrong-footed, Gianni was stunned into silence. Not by what she said, but by the way she said it. An arrow of thought shot through his brain. It’s almost as though she’s as concerned for the staff as I am…but, no, she couldn’t be…
Words hissed through his clenched teeth like a November blast.
‘You have the nerve to speak to me of respect? A woman who bursts in on a house in crisis with laughter?’
Meg was so close she could hear the breath labouring in and out through his parted lips. She was petrified, but desperation kept her standing firm. She had to hope that she could make her new boss see reason and keep her on. It was vital.
‘I meant no harm, signor. I would never have made such a fuss if I’d known the circumstances. Can’t we draw a line under all this and start again?’
Within seconds she realised her mistake. Gianni Bellini had no reverse gear.
From the moment she’d arrived, she had realised this was going to be difficult. Now it looked close to impossible. She felt weak with terror, but couldn’t let him see that. She needed this job. Too many people were relying on her to simply roll over and accept what this strangely changed Gianni said.
With nothing to lose but her dignity, Meg pressed on. She lowered her lids. It was a slow, methodical gesture like that of a diver standing on the topmost board. To her surprise, he reacted by giving her time to speak.
‘When your father was alive, he specifically wanted me to come and work here,’ she said with measured calm. ‘I was the most highly qualified applicant for the post, and without my skill his plants will soon suffer. He had all sorts of plans in mind for the Castelfino Estate. Now he’s…well, let’s just say he’ll need a fitting memorial. He was always