Italian Boss, Proud Miss Prim Page 9

  ‘Of course,’ he said.

  She focused her attention on the legal documents in front of her, but the imprint of Rigo’s fingers on her shoulders remained. She had to remind herself Rigo was Italian and caresses came easily to him. Such shows of emotion were practically unheard of in Katie’s world—except perhaps under the office mistletoe at Christmas, when the ancient caretaker made sure she wasn’t left out and always gave her a peck on the cheek.

  Rigo made a sign for her to begin.

  Must he sprawl across the seat? Must he look quite so sexy even in repose?

  In the best acting scene of her life, she began.

  Grim-faced, he listened. Carlo had left him everything? His mouth curved with distaste. He couldn’t wait to find out what ‘everything’ entailed. He guessed debt would play some part in it. Katie caught sight of his expression and gave him a troubled glance.

  Getting up from the desk, he turned his back on her. Today he could have used her soothing presence and common sense. Today he wanted nothing more than to have this sordid business over with so he could ring the hospital. If they didn’t ring him first…

  ‘There’s also a private letter from your stepbrother, Rigo, as well as a small package.’

  Katie’s soft voice cut through his thoughts and he heard her push back her chair, get up and walk across the room towards him.

  ‘Grazie.’ He turned.

  ‘I’ll leave you, shall I?’ she offered, hovering uncertainly.

  ‘No.’ He held out his hand, palm up. ‘Stay. Please,’ he added, when her steady gaze called him to account for his brusque manner.

  He walked some distance away before opening Carlo’s letter. Katie could have no idea of the depths of depravity to which his stepbrother had sunk and the disgrace Carlo had brought on the family. He didn’t want her to know. Why give her that as a parting gift to take home? Like his visit to the hospital earlier, none of this was Katie’s responsibility. Let her return to England with her presumptions about his glittering life intact. Just so long as she left Rome as carefree as she arrived he was fine with that.

  After years of practice he thought he was immune to feeling, but the sight of Carlo’s familiar hand gave him a punch in the gut he hadn’t expected. He glanced at Katie, who discreetly looked away. He had shut himself off emotionally years back when his father had chosen a woman and that woman’s son over him. The same loneliness and isolation he’d felt then swept over him now.

  He tensed, hearing Katie ask him softly, ‘Are you all right?’

  He nodded curtly and turned back to Carlo’s letter. His heart was closed.

  Wasn’t it?

  Dragging the usual mental armour round him, he began to read.

  Rigo—

  There is nothing I can say to make up for the years I stole from you, but I want to make my peace with you before I die. I’m not giving you anything that isn’t rightfully yours.

  Carlo.

  Cryptic to the end, he thought, ripping open the small package.

  The keys of the family palazzo in Tuscany tumbled into his hands, followed by his father’s ring. He slipped on the ring and felt both the weight of responsibility it carried and an agonising longing. He had waited so long for contact with his father, and that it should come like this…

  And to see his home again…his beautiful home…

  He lowered the letter to his side as a well of emotion threatened to drown him.

  The here and now fell away as his mind travelled back to the past. He had lived a blissful country existence at the palazzo, ignorant of pomp and pretension until his father fell in love and brought Carlo and his stepmother home. He had welcomed Carlo with open arms, thinking he would have a brother to share things with, only to have his youthful naïvety thrown back in his face. Carlo hadn’t had time to spare for a boy much younger than him, and one who stood in the way of easy money.

  ‘Shall I get you a drink?’

  He glanced up, still a little disorientated as Katie spoke to him. ‘No. Yes…a glass of water…please.’

  ‘I’ll go and get it for you.’

  Her expression told him she understood something of what he was going through, and for the briefest of moments there was a real connection between them.

  Everything had come full circle, he realised as Katie left him to pace. She was going home. He was going home. He could hardly take it in. He would have liked a bit longer to get used to the idea, but there was no time.

  Katie returned a little later with a tray of coffee, hot and strong. She brought him some iced water too. He guessed she had wanted to leave him alone with his thoughts for a while.

  ‘That’s very good of you, Signorina Bannister,’ he said as she laid everything out for him, ‘but I should take you to the airport now.’ He glanced at his watch, feeling his head must explode from everything he’d learned.

  ‘There’s time enough for that.’ She busied herself making sure his coffee was poured the way he liked it.

  ‘I thought you were in a hurry to get back to England.’

  ‘I can’t leave you like this—’

  ‘Like what?’ he demanded sharply. He didn’t need her pity. What business was it of hers how he felt?

  She raised her steady gaze to his and as if a veil had lifted a torrent of impassioned words poured out. ‘I do this all the time, Rigo—I see this all the time. I can’t stand it. I can’t stand how cruel people can be to each other.’

  ‘Then you should toughen up.’

  ‘Or get out of the job,’ she said thoughtfully.

  ‘There is that,’ he agreed, watching her as he sipped the hot, aromatic liquid.

  She calmed him. Against all the odds, Katie Bannister calmed him. Dread at what the contents of the will might reveal had been replaced by shock when he’d learned that Carlo had left him the only place he cared about. The palazzo had been in the Ruggiero family for centuries and Carlo must have recognised this at the end, so there was some good in him after all. The question now was, could he live with the guilt of knowing the past could never be mended?

  Turning away from Katie, he passed a hand over his eyes.

  Too much emotion.

  But he was going home…

  Home…

  Growing elation was threatening to leave him on the biggest high he’d ever known. He wanted someone to share that feeling with. He wanted Katie to share it with him, but she was already packing up her things, a little hesitantly, he thought. ‘What’s on your mind?’ She looked as if she was struggling with a decision.

  ‘Oh…you know…’ She flapped her hand, dismissing his concern.

  ‘No, I don’t know. I want you to tell me. What’s wrong?’ He was feeling increasing concern for this quiet girl who made everyone else’s problems her own and yet seemed so isolated, somehow.

  ‘You have your own problems.’

  As always she made light of her own concerns. ‘I just inherited an estate and a palazzo in Tuscany,’ he pointed out. ‘How bad can it be?’

  ‘That must mean a lot to you.’ All her focus was on him now.

  ‘My birthright? Oh, you know…’ He dismissed the home of his dreams, his childhood and his heart with an airy gesture.

  ‘Don’t, Rigo. You make it sound so flippant, when anyone with half an ounce of sense can see how much this means to you.’

  ‘You can tell, maybe…’ It was a turning point. He wanted the moment to last, but the best thing for Katie was for him to let his driver take her to the airport. A more unworthy part of him was reacting in the age-old way in the face of death. He wanted sex. The urge to make new life was an imperative inborn command. He wanted to have sex with Katie Bannister.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  WHAT was wrong with him? After years of emotional abstinence, why this sudden roller-coaster ride? He’d had huge and fantastic coups in business many times and hadn’t felt a thing. He’d learned long ago to turn his back on an inheritance he thought he’d never see again. So i
t wasn’t the just the palazzo in Tuscany gnawing at his gut. Was it possible this shy, innocent girl was slowly melting his resolve and bringing emotion into his life?

  He watched Katie cross the room to the desk in her neat, precise way. Her feelings were bound up tight just like his. He would like to see her respond to life and all its opportunities, and with abandon.

  ‘Before I go, here is the list of phone messages I took for you,’ she said in her strait-laced way. ‘And don’t be offended, but while I was waiting for you I tidied up that pile of documents by your chair on the floor—’

  ‘I meant to get round to that.’

  ‘How many PAs have you sacked?’ she asked him bluntly.

  Many, but did he want to frighten her off with an idea being born in his head? ‘I’m not the easiest man to work for,’ he admitted with monumental understatement. ‘I need someone who can use their initiative and do more than answer the phone—’

  ‘Well, lucky for you,’ she cut in dryly, ‘I made a list of all the written messages I found lying around.’

  ‘Most of them written on the back of envelopes,’ he said, remembering his latest PA’s failure to grasp the simple fact that a desk diary could be quite a useful office tool if she remembered to use it.

  ‘Your diary is in quite a mess,’ Katie added, levelling a stare on him.

  ‘And has been for some time,’ he agreed.

  ‘And the staff at your office…’

  Could be called obnoxious; he’d admit that. ‘Go on,’ he prompted, feeling there was something more to come.

  ‘Have no manners at all,’ she told him frankly. ‘And that’s not good for your image.’

  ‘What image?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  He missed a beat. ‘Why, Signorina Bannister, I think you just revealed another side to your character.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘PA—’

  ‘Oh, no.’ Shaking her head, she laughed at the thought of him offering her a job.

  ‘Pain in the ass?’

  She stared at him and then laughed again. ‘For a moment there I thought you were offering me a job—’

  ‘Do you think I’m mad?’ he teased her, watching closely for a reaction. Then he told himself the idea of employing her was mad; a momentary lapse of judgement. Did he want a woman who cared so much around him?

  His phone rang, bringing these thoughts to an end.

  He had a brief conversation before cutting the line.

  He swung around, elated. ‘Now I could kiss you—’

  ‘Let’s not get carried away,’ she said awkwardly, losing no time putting the desk between them. ‘I don’t like to rush you, but my flight leaves at four o’ clock. You’ve had good news, I take it?’

  ‘The best—’

  It must have been one heck of a deal, Katie concluded. ‘Congratulations—’

  ‘Congratulate the doctors, not me—’

  ‘The doctors?’

  ‘A friend of mine has had an operation,’ Rigo told her vaguely, ruffling his thick black hair. His glance was evasive and he gave her the impression that he thought he’d said too much already.

  ‘I hope your friend’s okay?’

  ‘The operation went really well, apparently.’

  ‘Then that’s the best news you could have.’

  ‘And it frees me to go to Tuscany right away.’

  ‘Don’t let me keep you. I can take a cab—’

  ‘I wouldn’t hear of it. I’ll arrange a driver—’

  And that would be the end of everything.

  Katie froze as Rigo continued chatting about flight schedules. He’d been equally matter-of-fact when they had returned from their amazing evening together, when she’d felt anything but matter-of-fact. She’d been frightened by the strength of her feelings for him—out of her depth and bewildered that feelings could be so one-sided. She had longed to return to her safe, quiet life in Yorkshire, but now the opportunity to do so had arrived she didn’t want the adventure to end. She wanted to stay until she knew the secret of Carlo’s will, because something told her the contents would hurt Rigo. She had to be there for him, because she cared for him, she cared for him desperately.

  There was an alternative, Katie’s inner voice suggested—if she was brave enough.

  ‘I could go back now,’ she blurted, clumsily interrupting him, ‘or…’

  ‘Or?’ Rigo echoed.

  Would her mind re-engage in time to speak with clarity, when all this man had to do to melt every bone in her body was to turn and give her that look? ‘Or I could come with you…’ By now she was hyperventilating to the point where she thought she might faint.

  ‘Come with me? I thought you couldn’t wait to leave Rome?’

  She would have to share at least part of her reason for wanting this, Katie realised. ‘Can I tell you the truth?’

  ‘I would expect nothing less of a lawyer,’ Rigo responded dryly.

  ‘I’m not even sure I’ll have a job when I get home. You see, my firm’s cutting back—’

  ‘A failing firm doesn’t mean you can’t get a job elsewhere.’

  ‘I’d take my chances,’ she agreed, ‘but I’m not sure I even want to be a lawyer.’

  Rigo’s brows shot up.

  ‘I get too involved,’ she explained. ‘Everyone has to constantly remind me I’m not a social worker and should concentrate on the facts—’

  ‘But you still care.’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘Is that something to be ashamed of?’

  ‘No, but it might mean I’m in the wrong job.’

  He laughed. It was a short, very masculine sound. ‘And you think you’d be happier working for me? I don’t think so, Signorina Bannister.’

  ‘Oh, well…’ Raising her arms a little, she dropped them to her sides. Of course Rigo didn’t want her working for him. He wanted someone slick and polished at his side. But a longing inside her stirred—a longing so strong she couldn’t ignore it. This might be her one chance to embrace change and adventure and, yes, see him sometimes. She drew a deep breath. ‘You can’t keep a PA—’

  ‘That’s true.’

  ‘I might not have the makings of a good lawyer, but I am incredibly organized.’

  ‘And you care too much about people—’

  ‘Not you,’ she quickly assured him.

  Pressing his hand against his chest, he gave her a mock-serious look. ‘Of course not.’

  ‘How about you take me on for a trial period?’

  ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘Absolutely.’ She held his gaze. ‘Your stepbrother has left you the family estate in Tuscany, but you haven’t been there since you were a boy and you don’t know what to expect when you get there. I could come with you and take notes—make suggestions. I have a passion for historical design—only a hobby,’ she added quickly, cheeks flushing, knowing she was the last person on earth Rigo would turn to for advice. ‘And I speak fluent Italian.’ Her trump card.

  ‘OK, OK,’ he said, halting the flow of her enthusiasm with raised hands. ‘Let’s stop this fantasy right now. Do you have any idea what the drop-out rate is for my staff?’

  ‘No, but I can imagine. Maybe you need an office manager too.’

  ‘Are you creating a role for yourself, Signorina Bannister?’

  ‘No, I’m identifying a need,’ Katie argued. ‘A mutual need.’ She bit her lip as she came to the crux of it all. ‘I need a change and you need a second string.’

  ‘A second string?’ Rigo’s face creased in his trademark smile, but his eyes were steadily assessing her. ‘Do you really think you can walk in here and, after five minutes’ exposure to my world, be ready to work alongside me and understand my business? I don’t think so—’

  ‘No, of course I don’t think that, but we’d both be new to this project—’

  ‘Tuscany is not a project,’ Rigo cut across her. ‘The Palazzo Farnese is the past and, though I loved it once, I intend to
sell it on. There are too many unhappy memories—’

  ‘Good ones too—’

  ‘Leave it,’ he warned. ‘You don’t know me that well.’

  Katie braced herself. ‘But you are going to see it before you sell it on?’

  ‘I said so, didn’t I?’

  ‘That’s good.’ She believed it was crucial he did. She’d seen the mixture of emotions pass behind Rigo’s eyes when he realised Carlo had left him the palazzo—elation being one of them. ‘Remedial work might be necessary before the palazzo goes on the market. You should make time—’

  ‘Oh, should I?’ His gaze turned cold. ‘You’re an expert, suddenly?’

  No, but she knew one thing—Rigo mustn’t treat this bequest like a cold-blooded business deal or he would regret it all his life. She knew it would be a difficult pilgrimage for him to make and his look warned her to drop it, but she couldn’t; she’d gone too far. ‘I wouldn’t get in your way. I’d just be there to take notes—act as your go-between. I could even help you source people to handle any necessary restoration work. You wouldn’t have time for all that with all your other interests.’

  ‘You seem to know a lot about me, Signorina Bannister.’

  ‘I know you don’t have a PA right now.’

  Everything inside her tensed as Rigo went silent. The road out of her small town in Yorkshire was littered with returnees who had tried the big city and hurried back to the safety of home. Perhaps she should be doing that too, but she’d tried the big city—admittedly Rome with Rigo Ruggiero in it—and was in no hurry to return home.

  ‘And you’re telling me you can start immediately—without giving notice to anyone?’

  Yes, she was burning her bridges. ‘I have called the office and warned them I might not be back right away.’

  ‘That’s not a very good recommendation to a prospective employer, is it?’ The look in Rigo’s eyes told her how crazy this idea was, but then he added, ‘I guess neither of us comes highly recommended where longevity of employment is concerned.’