Italian Attraction: The Italian Tycoon's Bride / An Italian Engagement / One Summer in Italy.... CATHERINE GEORGE

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СКАЧАТЬ an employee.’ She didn’t want him to think she had any expectations.

      ‘Not my employee,’ he said silkily.

      She floundered, the image of a long lean body and wickedly handsome face flashing on the screen of her mind. ‘You … don’t have to.’

      ‘I know.’ The deep voice and accent was an unfair combination. ‘I want to. You are Jackie’s dearest friend, after all.’

      He was laughing at her. She couldn’t see his face but she was sure he was laughing at her. Stiffly now, she said, ‘Thank you.’

      ‘Don’t mention it.’

      This time the throb of amusement was unmistakable. Maisie glared at the receiver. The telephone in the bedsit was antiquated. She had seen the state-of-the-art whizkid mobile phone he’d used earlier—it added insult to injury. ‘Goodbye,’ she said tightly.

      ‘Goodnight, Maisie.’ His tone was easy and relaxed. It told her more blatantly than any words could have done that she could indulge in her little tantrums and he didn’t give a damn. And then she realised she’d got it wrong again when he added, ‘His loss, Italy’s gain. The guy was a fool, Maisie. Don’t waste time thinking about him. He isn’t worth it.’ And the phone went dead.

      When Maisie exited Naples airport on Tuesday afternoon she was tired and more than a little apprehensive. It hadn’t been until she was actually on the plane that the enormity of what she had let herself in for had hit her, along with the fact that she would be in effect homeless once she returned to England. But that was all right, she told herself firmly as she shaded her eyes with her hand and glanced round for Blaine, berating herself for not buying a pair of decent sunglasses before she left England. A friend was storing her few bits and pieces and personal belongings in a spare room until she returned home, and Sue had been very enthusiastic about Maisie staying with her until she fixed up a job and somewhere to stay. So she wouldn’t exactly be destitute. Far from it, in fact, with Blaine’s very healthy cheque having plumped up her bank balance, which hopefully would be added to while she was in Italy.

      No, her apprehension wasn’t caused by the situation she would face when she returned home but by what she would be facing in the immediate future, she thought, watching a sleek and beautiful black Ferrari nose towards her. It wasn’t until Blaine called her name that she realised it was his car, however.

      Oh, wow … She tried to stop her mouth from falling open as she watched him jump out of the sleek confines of the elegant car.

      ‘Hi, Maisie. Good journey?’

      He was wearing an open-necked black shirt and pale cotton trousers, and with his eyes hidden by screamingly expensive sunglasses he was a perfect moving monochrome of black and white. The epitome of Italian manhood, in fact. Jackie had filled her in on the wealth the family enjoyed in Italy, which was considerable due to the successful chain of hotels and cafés Roberto’s father owned and which Blaine now managed, and everything about him reflected this as he reached her side. ‘Very good, thank you,’ she managed evenly as he took her suitcase and sports bag. ‘How is your father?’

      ‘Bearing up.’

      Probably because they were in Italy his accent seemed more pronounced than it had in England, and as he opened the car door for her she felt ridiculously shy as she slid into the car with an excessive show of leg. She had never been in such a low-slung powerful car before and it felt almost as though they were on a level with the road as Blaine folded himself into the driving seat.

      Gathering her skirt chastely round her, Maisie said nervously, ‘Thank you for coming to meet me.’

      ‘My pleasure.’ He smiled at her before starting the engine and her stomach twirled.

      As he drove out of the airport she sat stiffly beside him, her hands unconsciously clenched into two fists on her lap and her back straight. He seemed even more good-looking and overtly sexy than he had in England, and the close intimacy of the car had every nerve in her body twanging. And they had well over an hour’s drive in front of them, she thought despairingly. Not that she fancied him, of course—she wasn’t that stupid—but it was the whole experience that had wound her up—the car, the man, the bright sunshine, the foreign climes …

      He drove the car surely and expertly through the busy traffic, which to Maisie’s fevered gaze didn’t seem to have any rhyme or reason to it. There was a great deal of blaring of horns and screeching tyres, which was less than reassuring, especially as she felt more vulnerable than she’d ever felt in the whole of her life.

      ‘In a little while you will begin to see the beauty of my country,’ Blaine assured her as the car weaved and dived through the mêlée all around them. ‘I am probably biased, but to me Sorrento is everything that is good about Italy. For centuries it was our best kept secret, contained to just a few privileged foreign travellers, and then Tennessee Williams made it the playground of the affluent and the famous.’ He shrugged. ‘Fortunately Sorrento’s charm cannot be spoilt by excess or those who do not understand her.’

      Maisie could detect the delicious aftershave she had smelt before in England, something sharp and sensual, and her voice came out less controlled than she would have liked when she said, ‘Surely the jet set’s presence is good for the hotel and restaurant business?’

      ‘Of course.’ He shrugged again, a very Latin action. ‘One cannot have everything in life; isn’t that what they say?’

      Whoever ‘they’ were, they’d nearly got it wrong with Blaine, she thought ruefully. Roberto’s younger brother might not have absolutely everything, but he was well on the way to it. A privileged upbringing in a stunning part of the world, good looks, wealth—Blaine was the original Italian playboy, in fact. Forget being born with a silver spoon in his mouth; he had a whole cutlery set.

      The traffic thankfully became a little more orderly as they left the airport behind and as the car gathered speed Maisie was enchanted with what she saw. Dominated by Mount Vesuvius, Naples was everything she’d heard it to be—bustling, alive, full of breathtaking architecture and rich colours. She made up her mind that before she went home she would explore the city. She could always delay her departure by a week or so and book into a cheap hotel for a few nights. She might never come to this part of the world again and now she was here she wanted to explore most of it.

      It was as they wound around the peninsular towards Sorrento that Blaine, without glancing at her, said, ‘Could you try and relax a little? You’re making me feel as though you expect me to run out of petrol or something.’

      Maisie had been looking out of the window at the spectacular view that was unfolding, but now her eyes shot to his face. ‘I’m perfectly relaxed, thank you,’ she said tightly.

      He said nothing, simply turning his head for a moment and glancing meaningfully at her hands, which were still clenched in her lap.

      She breathed in deeply. OK, perhaps not then, but Blaine Morosini was not a man you relaxed with easily. Not that she wanted him to guess that it was his close proximity that was keeping her on tenterhooks. Hastily she said, ‘It’s all a bit unnerving, that’s all. Coming to a foreign country to work for someone you haven’t seen and not knowing anyone.’

      ‘You know me.’

      Well, yeah. Not a great help, actually. That was the main problem, in fact.

      His frown smoothed to a quizzical СКАЧАТЬ