Page 34 of A Wedding Negotiation with Her Boss

‘I mean, I had to do a hatchet job on the failing arms of the business—get rid of the dross and build it back up before I could even think of doing my own thing. There was no need to go to Italy to oversee any of that because the head offices had long been relocated to New York.’

He looked at her. ‘How do you manage to do that?’ he murmured.

‘Do what?’

‘Get me to say things I wouldn’t normally say.’ His voice was a low, vaguely surprised murmur and his dark gaze was speculative as it rested on her.

Helen shivered and made sure to remind herself that the last thing she needed was a couple of throwaway confidences, dragged out of him because of circumstance, to get her imagining that she meant more to him on any level than what she was—his secretary.

She was also aware that there was a danger of him resenting her over time for knowing more about him than he had ever bargained for.

He pointed ahead of them and she glanced to see that their limo was beginning an ascent through the picturesque town towards a distant and sprawling villa, built along the lines of a castle, all white and grey stone that seemed to spring from the very rock on which it squatted.

‘I was under the impression that Arturio and his family couldn’t quite afford to modernise the vineyards, hence the sale...’ she murmured, awestruck by the villa they were fast approaching.

‘A castle takes some upkeep,’ Gabriel returned wryly. ‘Just between the two of us, there was an informal agreement I made with Arturio, that I would look around the place and see what I could do to save it from falling into more disrepair. It would barely make a dent in my finances. His kids have been after him to sell it for a long time, but the truth is the old man is attached to it—probably more than he should be—and I would want to preserve it.’

‘A knight in shining armour—whatever the family connection.’

‘Well, as knights in shining armour go, it’s nice for me to find a role that I enjoy occupying, considering none of my exes would ever agree with the description.’

He looked at her, brooding and thoughtful. ‘And with good reason.’

Gabriel looked broodingly at Helen’s calm, intelligent, fine-boned features. He’d never contemplated anything serious with any woman, and it had been easy, because the women he had dated had been unsuitable for any role other than just to pass through. Had he subconsciously ambushed any possibility of commitment on any level by choosing the wrong types of women? It was an interesting thought.

He looked away. ‘We’re here; let the fun begin.’

And so they were. Arturio and Isabella were already outside. Just the two of them, although Helen could spot uniformed help behind.

Their chauffeur swooped round to open the door and the action began. The smile was already on Helen’s face as Gabriel looped his arm casually around her shoulders, and it stayed there as they were welcomed with fanfare into the mansion. Then, with arrangements and timings made for drinks and dinner, they were shown to their bedroom.

CHAPTER SEVEN

GABRIELLOOSENEDHISTIE. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d worn a tie, but drinks and dinner with Arturio, Isabella and various relatives invited to a meet-and-greet seemed to holler for one. He’d suspected formality was something Arturio might appreciate and had packed accordingly: he’d been right.

Now, the evening was behind them.

The matter of a shared bedroom had been briskly dealt with by Helen the minute the bedroom door had been quietly closed behind them.

With a king-sized bed staring at them, she had spun round on her heels, hands on her hips, and informed him that he could take thechaise longueby the window, no ifs or buts.

There would also be a bathroom rota.

Gabriel had promptly agreed to both, but he had felt a suspicious quickening of his libido as he had coolly locked eyes with the pink-cheeked, fiery woman who seemed to divulge more and more compelling sides to her with every passing minute.

And, wow, had those sides to her he’d never glimpsed before come into their own earlier. He felt himself breaking out in a light sweat thinking about it. Banished to one of the bathrooms on the floor they had been designated—safe in the knowledge that the chance of anyone passing him was remote because the place was vast and their wing seemed empty—he thought back to the moment she had walked into the drawing room.

He’d gone down ahead of her to test the ground and fend off the brunt of the questions about them. It had been easy enough because everyone there was either far too polite and well behaved to display avid curiosity, or else too insecure in their English, preferring to dip in and out of Italian. Besides, they had all clustered around him, eager to fill in the gaps about a relative they had never met. That he had brought a woman with him was less significant.

He was fluent in Italian and was in the middle of an anecdote about his Californian vineyard when he stopped mid-sentence and stared.

He’d told her that, for their charade to pull out all the stops, his eyes would have to to light up when he saw her. He’d made some fatuous remark about her wardrobe, safe in the knowledge that there was no way she could ever break habits of a lifetime and really get into character for the part she was playing. The ground had shifted between them butthat much? No—no chance.

But that outfit for travel had shown a departure from the expected, and when she’d paused in the doorway of the drawing room...

He groaned now, tugged the tie down and then began getting undressed, switching on the stuttering shower and keeping it cold.

Red...where hadthatcome from? She’d been wearing red—a deep, sexy red, modestly covering most of her but cut in ways that showed off her elegant sexiness and revealed just enough of her cleavage to have him desperate to see more.

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