The Italian's Blushing Gardener. Christina Hollis

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СКАЧАТЬ around. She had only ever entered the villa by one of the back doors. This was her first time in the grand public areas, and she didn’t want to miss a thing. While she was daydreaming, Stefano strolled past her. Pulling a pearl-handled penknife from his pocket, he pushed the blade against the woodwork of the nearest door. Kira gazed in wonder at the ornate plasterwork, and the beautifully worked banisters on the great double staircase, but he was busy with more practical things. He worked his way methodically around the entrance hall, testing, checking and inspecting.

      ‘This is the most beautiful house I have ever seen,’ she said wistfully. Stefano was not so easily impressed.

      ‘My town house in Florence is more practical, and in better condition,’ he observed, before flashing another brilliant smile at her. ‘But you’re right. The setting and space here can’t be beaten.’

      Kira nodded. ‘It’s a lovely house. Oh, yes, there are bound to be things about it that must be altered, updated or replaced. It’s old. But I’d like nothing better than the chance to give it some homely touches. Couldn’t you just imagine the scene in December, with a fifteen-foot Christmas tree standing in that bay between the staircases?’

      Stefano looked over to where she pointed. He studied the space, tipping his head first one way, and then the other.

      ‘Yes, the proportions would be exactly right. That’s important with these old houses. Everything must be in scale,’ he said firmly.

      Kira’s heart gave a strange flutter. She had been half joking, hardly expecting the big-shot billionaire to consider Christmas trees with such seriousness. That might be a glimmer of hope. Even if he might fill the place with rowdy celebrity friends, he clearly had an eye for the important things in life.

      ‘A tree like that in a place like this will need to hit exactly the right note. When I host my first Christmas party I want everyone to be speechless with delight—because I’m all for a quiet life.’ He smiled, and gave her a look of undisguised interest. ‘So that’s the festive season sorted out. What do you suggest for my housewarming extravaganza?’

      It was a totally unexpected question. Kira looked to see if he was trying to wind her up. He gazed back innocently. Smiling in spite of herself, she decided to answer in the same spirit.

      ‘Actually, I’m the last person you should ask about entertaining. I’m a garden designer. I prefer to work with plants rather than people.’

      ‘What is a Christmas tree, if it isn’t a plant?’ He shrugged. ‘And I shall need all sorts of those. When we become neighbours I shall want your advice, sooner or later.’

      Kira shot him a look of pure disbelief. ‘You can have exactly what you like, signore. You don’t need anyone to advise you, let alone me!’

      ‘There are times when everyone can do with a little help,’ he slung straight back at her. ‘By employing skilled people, I can spend my time and effort on all the things I really want to do. In this instance, it gives me plenty of time to plan for Christmas.’ He stopped inspecting the paintwork and turned an acute gaze on her. ‘I know—you must have a good eye for colour. How would you like the task of co-ordinating all the decorations?’

      Kira nearly laughed out loud. It felt truly bizarre to be standing in a vast Tuscan villa in the heat of summer, talking about something that was months away.

      ‘Why on earth would you want someone else to decorate your Christmas tree? It’s something I’ve looked forward to every year for as long as I can remember! It’s the chance to be a child again, I suppose, without all the pressure.’

      It was Stefano’s turn to look askance. ‘I know all about pressure.’ His voice darkened with meaning.

      Kira groaned under the weight of memory. ‘That’s why it’s so good to get away from it all, to a place like this. I can enjoy Christmas my way. No rehearsing recitals in Gloucester cathedral, dashing between carol services and amateur dramatics, torturing tons of holly, ivy and mistletoe into wreaths and swags. When I was a child, it was never ending.’

      He pursed his lips, and then said drily, ‘It’s a wonder you had any time to yourself.’

      ‘I didn’t. That’s the penalty you pay for being a trophy child, isn’t it?’

      ‘I wouldn’t know. I missed out on all that. I skipped it, and went straight from sleeping in a box under the table, to earning a living.’

      ‘Gosh, you must have had a deprived childhood!’ she joked.

      He stared at her, unimpressed. His eyes were suddenly chill with all the hidden feelings she recognised from her own reflection. She stopped laughing.

      ‘Yes. Yes, I did.’ He grazed his lower lip with his teeth for a moment, and then added, ‘But that’s behind me now. The future is all that matters.’

      There was iron-hard determination in his voice. His eyes were everywhere. She wondered what havoc he would wreak on this beautiful old house when he took possession of it. The thought worried her. A few moments ago, she had been annoyed by the way he talked as though the villa was already his. Now she was thinking about it in the same way. He was checking every inch of the building like the rightful owner. If ever a man was made to lord it over the Bella Terra valley, it’s Stefano Albani, she thought, with a shiver of apprehension.

      ‘You’re cold. Why don’t you step outside into the evening sun and warm up?’ he murmured.

      His words surprised her. She thought all his attention was riveted on the villa’s sales brochure, and hadn’t expected him to notice.

      ‘No, I’m fine,’ she said quickly, unwilling to miss this chance to look over the grand villa she gazed at every day from her favourite viewpoint on the other side of the valley.

      His eyes glittered with sudden fire. ‘As long as you’re sure.’

      Kira began to feel uneasy. Every time he looked at her, he smiled as he spoke. It was an unusual expression, caressing the most secret parts of her. As she tried not to shrink beneath his gaze, she felt the peaks of her nipples push against the smooth profile of her thin shirt. They stiffened still more to know he was looking at her. It was no longer the chill of the cool marble hall affecting her body. He must have realised it, too, but looked away sharply as obvious appreciation flared for a moment in his eyes.

      Kira didn’t know what to do. Putting her head down, she scuttled off towards the nearest door.

      ‘Let’s see what’s through here, shall we?’ she said, bursting into the first room beyond the entrance hall. Within half a step she stopped. It was the reception room that time forgot. Sunlight streamed through tall, graceful windows but its beams danced with dust motes. The design of the room was in a typically grand Italian style, although its furnishings wouldn’t have been out of place in an English country house.

      ‘Oh, my goodness!’ Kira exclaimed. ‘A little bit of England overseas!’

      Following close behind her, Stefano clicked his tongue when he saw her shudder.

      ‘My stepparents have spent a lifetime collecting stuff like this. Cane-back chairs, chintz upholstery and Goss china. Sir Ivan must have shipped everything over here from England. Why on earth would you move to Italy, then recreate England in your new home?’

      ‘I don’t know.’ СКАЧАТЬ