Page 5 of The Housekeeper and the Brooding Billionaire

His tone suggested her first day was going to be even more difficult than she’d feared.

CHAPTER TWO

THIRTYMINUTESLATER,Charlotte tapped on the oak door of what she hoped was the study.

There’d been no time for a proper handover from Anna, and the map the housekeeper had left of thecastelloand its cluster of surrounding houses was sketchy. The idea had been for Charlotte to work with Anna for several days before the older woman left to be with her daughter for the birth of her first child. Instead, as Charlotte’s arrival late yesterday was swiftly followed by the medical emergency in Rome, there’d been time to pass on only a few nuggets of information.

One. The Conte’s privacy was paramount. Charlotte couldn’t take photos on the island or discuss anything she learned about him, this place or anyone else here. As if the hefty penalties in the nondisclosure agreement she’d already signed hadn’t made that absolutely clear.

Two. Visitors weren’t allowed on the island without express permission. See rule one above.

If Charlotte had had any doubts on that score, her meeting with her employer had banished them.

Three. If the Conte was working in his study, he was never, under any circumstances other than a fatality, to be disturbed. No matter how long before he chose to emerge.

Again, see rule one above.

Four. If she couldn’t make a perfect espresso, there was no point staying.

Charlotte’s lips twisted in a tight smile. Apparently the demon count could be pacified with decent coffee. Though perhapspacifiedwas too much to ask. Given his mood earlier, she doubted a little arabica would make much difference.

What would it take to conjure a smile from those flinty features?

That, Charlotte Symonds, is none of your business.

She pushed her shoulders back, checked her still-damp hair was in its usual impeccable chignon, and rapped again.

‘Avanti.’

She stepped forward, then halted on the threshold, her heart rising in her throat. Not because Conte Alessio was scowling, though this time his foul temper was directed at his phone rather than her.

It was the extraordinary room that stopped her in her tracks. It took up almost the whole of the massive round tower, with high windows on three sides through which morning light streamed. Beyond was an arresting view of steep-sided mountains falling down to gentler green slopes and the misty lake. It was like being in an eagle’s eyrie.

The round walls were fitted with bookcases that must have been custom-made for the circular room. Beneath the windows were deep padded window seats that would be perfect for curling up with a book or some embroidery.

Charlotte stepped inside, surveying the vast, extraordinary space. That first impression of cosiness altered as she took in the sleek modern cabinets near the door and the impressive array of computer monitors on the vast desk. Even the lounges grouped by a fireplace large enough to roast an ox had the look of modern design that married comfort with cutting-edge dynamism.

‘Is that coffee I smell?’ he asked.

He didn’t even look up. His dark eyebrows were still angled in a V of irritation or concentration.

She’d give him the benefit of the doubt since it was clear he hadn’t known of her arrival. Charlotte understood from Anna that she wouldn’t see much of her employer. He hadn’t interviewed her. Anna had done that after an initial interview by a formidable recruitment advisor, and the employment contract had come from a very superior legal firm in Rome.

Yet annoyance tickled her spine. She was used to providing an almost invisible service to wealthy guests, but surely he could acknowledge her as more than the bearer of coffee.

She walked, unhurried, around the desk and held out the tray she carried.

‘Thank you,’ he murmured, still looking at his screen. At least he had some manners. Charlotte recalled her father ignoring the staff on their estate, expecting them to anticipate his wishes and when they couldn’t read his mind, blasting them with a violent tirade.

She saw the moment when Conte noticed the second small cup on the silver salver. He blinked as if it had never occurred to him that his housekeeper might appreciate an espresso after her early morning swim and his peremptory summons, leaving her no time for breakfast.

Or maybe you’ve gone too far, making a point.

At the small but ultra-exclusive Alpine hotel where she’d been head of housekeeping, she’d been treated as an equal by the manager. This was different, working for a titled aristocrat in his own home.

Yet Charlotte’s mother had been an aristocrat, and Charlotte knew that a true gentleman treated his staff with consideration, not merely peremptory orders.

Why hadthisman’s attitude irked her when she’d spent years placidly dealing with the most demanding guests? Even his gruff attitude was nothing in comparison with her father’s furious rants. She had an unnerving suspicion she’d overreacted to his earlier dismissal of her, not as an employee but as a person.

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