Rich and Outrageous: His Poor Little Rich Girl / Deserving of His Diamonds? / Enemies at the Altar. Melanie Milburne
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Rachel hadn’t heard Alessandro enter the dining room. She came in to put the finishing touches to the table to find him already seated at the head of the table next to the bottle of champagne and white wine she had placed in an ice bucket earlier.
‘Dinner won’t be long,’ she said. ‘I just have to check the chicken casserole.’
‘I said dinner was to be at eight-thirty,’ he said, challenging her with his dark blue eyes.
Rachel felt her back come up. ‘My watch says it’s only eight-twenty.’
‘Then your watch must be wrong,’ he returned.
‘Are you usually so pedantic about mealtimes or is this just for my benefit?’ she asked.
‘You are now under my employ, Rachel,’ he said. ‘I will not tolerate sloppiness or unpunctuality in any form.’
She tried to stare him down but in the end she had to look away. Resentment burned inside her like hot coals as she flounced back to the kitchen to bring in the meal.
He was still sitting at the head of the table when she came in with their starter. She placed it before him and went to stand by her place opposite. It annoyed her again how he just sat there like a king waiting for his subjects to appear before him. He must be doing it on purpose, to make her feel she was not worth the effort of acknowledging her or by rising when she came into the room. The very least he could have done was to stand up and pull out her chair for her. ‘I’m surprised you haven’t started on your food before I’ve even sat down,’ she said.
‘It is the height of rudeness to begin eating one’s meal until every guest is seated at the table and has each been served their meal,’ Alessandro said.
‘It is also rude for a man not to rise when a lady enters the room,’ Rachel quickly shot back.
He looked past her as if looking for some other guest to appear. ‘I had not noticed any ladies enter the room,’ he said with a cool stretch of his lips that kept his teeth concealed. ‘Perhaps you will inform me if and when one does.’
Rachel clenched her hands on the back of the chair in case she was tempted to slap him for his insulting slight. ‘You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?’ she said. ‘You’re getting a sick sense of enjoyment out of this turn of the tables. Your lord-of-the-manor routine is pathetic. No amount of wealth is going to be able to change your background. You can whitewash it all you like with your wealthy surroundings and priceless possessions but underneath it all you are still a rough kid from the suburbs who got lucky.’
‘Sit,’ he said, his eyes locked on hers, fire meeting ice.
She gripped the chair even harder, defiance pushing her chin forward. ‘I will sit when you stand.’
‘You will be waiting a long time, Rachel,’ he said. ‘Now sit before I lose my temper.’
The air began to crackle as if charged with thousands of volts of electricity as his dark sapphire eyes held hers in a powerful lockdown.
A feather of unease danced up Rachel’s spine. There was no visible sign of anger on his face, but she felt it all the same. It was invisible but very, very real. It moved around her, closing in on her like invisible coils that were tightening her chest with every beat of her heart.
The silence throbbed and throbbed but then he broke it by saying, ‘I have the papers here for you to sign.’ He passed them to her.
Rachel hesitated, but then she took them with an unsteady hand. It annoyed her how the slight rattle of the pages betrayed her state of being while he remained so cool and untouched. It seemed so unfair for her to be feeling like a chastised child while he acted the role of the reprimanding authority figure.
‘You should read them carefully before you sign them,’ he added.
She pulled out her chair and sat down before she realised what she had done. She’d had no intention of taking her seat while he was still sitting but somehow he had got his way. ‘Nice one, Vallini,’ she said, giving him a narrow-eyed glance. ‘Read the document, Rachel,’ he said expressionlessly. She read through the document carefully. It stated that she was to be temporarily employed as his housekeeper and in doing so was required to sign a confidentiality agreement. If she spoke to the press during the time of her employment or for up to six months afterwards she would have to repay all monies paid to her, including the ten thousand euros he had already given her.
‘Is there a problem?’ Alessandro asked. She looked across at him, wondering why he was being so calculated about this. It seemed a bit extreme for a two-day stay. But then he had good reason to think she would do anything to get the money she so desperately needed. A quick spill to the press had the potential to earn her thousands but there was no way she would dream of doing that to someone, not after knowing firsthand how it felt to have your private life splashed across every headline. ‘No, not really,’ she said. ‘It seems pretty straightforward. You’re paying me to keep my mouth shut.’
‘A day or two at the most is all I want from you,’ he said. ‘Once that time is up you are free to go. You will not owe me a penny unless you act with indiscretion.’
Rachel took the pen, her fingers feeling the warmth of where his had been. He hadn’t touched her, not even a brush of his fingers as he handed her the pen, but her hand felt as if it were on fire. She signed her name before handing the pen and the document back to him. ‘Do you get all your mistresses to sign confidentiality agreements before you sleep with them?’ she asked.
His eyes glinted darkly as they held hers. ‘You are not technically being employed as my mistress, Rachel.’
Rachel felt her colour rise. ‘How do I know you won’t add it to my list of duties?’
He took a long time to answer. A very long time. ‘I don’t like mixing business with pleasure,’ he said. ‘It is a dangerous combination that can leave one open to exploitation.’
Rachel knew he was having a dig at her for the way she had led him on in the past. From his point of view she had acted like a trashy little tart, offering herself to him at every opportunity. She had flirted with him and teased him and had enjoyed every moment of it. He had made her feel so feminine and gorgeous and so irresistible that it had gone completely to her head. But looking back now she wished she had been a little more mature and a little more sensible about how she had conducted herself.
Alessandro put the papers to one side and reached for the bottle of champagne. ‘Shall we celebrate our temporary arrangement?’ he said.
‘Why not?’ Rachel said, affecting a carefree tone when she felt anything but.
He handed her a glass of sparkling bubbles and then, taking his own, held it against hers in a toast. ‘To standing up for oneself,’ he said and drank a hefty mouthful.
She took a small sip and then frowned as she traced the rim of her glass with her fingertip. ‘I’m a lot better at it now than I was.’
Alessandro put his glass down. ‘I don’t know about that. I think you’ve always been good at fighting from your corner.’ There was a little silence.
‘When did you decide to end your relationship with Hughson?’ he asked.
She looked at the contents of her glass rather than meet his eyes. ‘I could see things were not working out between us,’ she said. ‘We had very little in common apart from our backgrounds. I think I always knew that but I was under pressure from my father to do the right thing.’
‘Meaning he wanted you to marry money.’
His statement sounded like a criticism. ‘Yes, but then that was the way I was brought up,’ Rachel said. ‘I was taught to mix with the right people.’
‘But you amused yourself by the occasional fraternisation with the lower classes,’ he said.
Rachel met the glacial glitter of his unwavering