The Italian Millionaire's Marriage. Lucy Gordon

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      She tried to study his face, but it was hard because his eyes were in shadow.

      ‘Don’t you mind doing it this way?’ she asked at last. ‘Don’t you have any feelings about it?’

      ‘There’s no need for us to discuss feelings,’ he said, suddenly distant.

      ‘But you’ve got everything planned like a business deal.’

      ‘Sometimes that can achieve optimum results.’

      The cool precision of his tone sent a frisson of alarm through her. For the first time she understood the extent to which he’d banished human warmth from this plan, and it gave her a sense of unreality. Only a man who’d built fences around himself could act like this. She wondered how high the fences were, and why he needed them.

      And what about your own fences? murmured an inner voice. You know they’re there. Brains are safe. Your head can’t hurt you like your heart can. Maybe you’re two of a kind, and he sensed it?

      She quickly rejected the idea, but it lingered, troubling her, refusing to be totally dismissed.

      Playing for time, she said, ‘If we married you’d expect me to come to live with you, right?’

      He looked slightly startled. ‘That is the usual arrangement.’

      ‘But if I move to Rome I’ll lose the shop that I’m trying to save.’

      ‘You can leave your establishment here and have it run by a manager, or move it to Rome. You might even find it helpful to be there. I’m sure there’s a great deal you haven’t explored yet.’

      He’d touched a nerve. Not meeting his eyes Harriet said, ‘I suppose you know everybody.’

      ‘Not quite everybody. But I know a lot of people who could be useful to you.’

      He would know Baron Orazio Manelli, she thought. He’d probably been in the Palazzo Manelli, with its vast store of hidden treasures. Harriet had been writing to the Baron for two years now, seeking permission to study that Aladdin’s cave. And for two years he had barred her entry. But as Marco’s fiancée…

      She bid the tempter be silent, but he whispered to her of bronze and gold, of ancient jewellery and historic sculptures.

      ‘A visit,’ she said. ‘With neither of us committed.’

      ‘That’s understood.’

      ‘We might simply decide it wouldn’t work.’

      ‘And part friends. But in the meantime my mother would have the pleasure of your company.’

      Torn between conscience and temptation she stared at his face as though hoping to find the answer there. And then, against all odds, she did.

      ‘That’s it!’ she breathed. ‘Now I know where I’ve seen your face.’

      ‘I’m glad,’ he said, amused. ‘Who do I remind you of?’

      ‘Emperor Caesar Augustus.’

      ‘I beg your pardon!’

      ‘I’ve got him in the shop—his bust in bronze. It’s your face.’

      ‘Nonsense. That’s pure fancy.’

      ‘No it’s not. Come on, I’ll show you.’

      ‘What?’

      ‘Let’s go and see. We’ve finished eating, haven’t we?’

      He’d planned a leisurely liqueur or two, but he could tell it would be simpler to yield. ‘Yes, we’ve finished,’ he agreed.

      He was a man who led while others followed, but he found himself swept along by her urgent enthusiasm until they were back in her shop, and she’d turned the lights on the bust.

      ‘Now is that you or isn’t it?’ she demanded triumphantly.

      ‘No,’ he said, astounded. ‘There’s no resemblance at all. You brought me all the way back here to look at that?’

      ‘I’m not imagining it. That’s you. Look again. Look.’

      He didn’t look. Instead he gave a soft laugh, as though something had mysteriously delighted him, and came to stand in front of her, putting one hand on her shoulder. With the other he lifted her chin so that he could look into her eyes. She could feel his warm breath against her skin, whispering across her mouth so that a tiny shiver went through her. But although their faces were so close, he didn’t lower his head, only gave her a small, intriguing smile.

      ‘A sensible man would run for his life at this point,’ he said wryly.

      ‘And you’re a very sensible man, aren’t you?’

      He brushed back a stray wisp of hair. ‘Maybe I’m not as sensible as I thought I was. I know you’re not a sensible woman. You’re completely crazy.’

      ‘I suppose I am. A woman who wasn’t crazy wouldn’t even consider your idea.’

      ‘True. Then I must be grateful.’ He looked down into her face, still smiling, still meeting her eyes.

      Then something happened that shocked her. His smile faded. He released her and stepped back. ‘Can you be ready to leave in two days?’ he asked with cool courtesy.

      She was too stunned to speak. One moment her body had been vibrating from the intimacy of his closeness, his hands, his breath. The next, it was all over, and by his choice, that was clear. He’d deliberately slammed the door shut on whatever might have happened between them next.

      She pulled herself together and replied in a voice that matched his own. ‘Speaking as a businesswoman, will I have the money by then?’

      ‘You will have it by midday tomorrow.’

      ‘But you haven’t seen my books,’ she said, suddenly conscience stricken.

      ‘Do I need to? I’m sure they’re terrible.’

      ‘Suppose you can’t afford me?’

      ‘I assure you that I can.’

      She gave a sharp little laugh, half-tension, half-anger. ‘Then perhaps I should marry you for your money.’

      ‘I thought that was what we’d been discussing.’

      She surveyed him defiantly, arms folded. ‘I can’t put one over on you, can I?’

      ‘I try to ensure that nobody can. It’s the best way to achieve—’

      ‘Optimum results.’ She said the words with him, and he gave her a nod of respect.

      ‘Let СКАЧАТЬ