Italian Boss, Proud Miss Prim. Susan Stephens
was defending her? She had gone up in the world, Katie thought wryly, trying not to mind when Rigo settled his young companion into the chair next to her own.
‘Don’t worry, I know when I’m not wanted,’ Antonia responded sulkily, refusing to sit down now she had deposited her bags. ‘I don’t want to be here while you’re talking business—’
‘Oh, please, don’t go on account of me…’ Katie seized the opportunity to stand up. ‘I was just going anyway—’
‘No, you weren’t,’ Rigo argued. ‘You’ve barely started your coffee.’
Katie’s instinctive reaction was to look down at Rigo’s hand on her arm. Could he feel her trembling beneath his touch?
‘And you sit down too,’ he instructed Antonia, lifting his hand away from Katie. ‘What’s wrong with you both?’
Where to begin? Katie thought, feeling like the poor relation. But Rigo had made it impossible for her to leave without appearing rude, and so reluctantly she sat down again.
Only Rigo appeared relaxed as silence stretched between them. With Antonia sulking and Rigo paying neither of them much attention, this was uncomfortable. ‘So…you found me?’ Katie mumbled self-consciously. She wasn’t the best conversationalist at the best of times—and this was hardly that. As Rigo turned to her she was vaguely aware that the waiter was serving more coffee, as well as a soda and a piece of delicious ice-cream cake known as semifredo for Antonia.
‘Found you?’ Rigo’s sexy lips pressed down. ‘It appears so,’ he agreed, lowering a fringe of jet-black lashes over his emerald eyes. ‘I guess it must be fate.’
His direct stare made her hand shake and she quickly replaced her coffee-cup in the saucer before she spilled it.
‘Of course,’ he added, ‘if you will choose to walk down the most popular shopping street in Rome…’
His wry look plus Antonia’s raspberry and vanilla scent was a lethal combination, Katie realised, finding her gaze drawn to his sexy mouth. ‘Er—yes…’
‘And here was I, thinking you were back at the penthouse answering my calls—’ his lips pressed down ‘—while all the time you were out shopping.’
By now her cheeks must be luminous crimson, Katie realised, glancing at Antonia, who, having decided to stay, was wolfing down cake as if calories never stuck to her thighs. ‘I awarded myself a break—’
‘I applaud your initiative, Signorina Bannister.’
A bone-melting stare over the rim of his coffee-cup accompanied this assurance.
Play with fire and you are likely to get burned, Katie reminded herself, managing to slop her own coffee over the table.
She reached for a wad of paper napkins, but Signor Ruggiero got there first.
‘Allow me,’ he insisted. ‘Tell me, Signorina Bannister,’ he said, angling his stubble-shaded chin to slant a stare directly into her eyes, ‘should I want to employ you, do you think I could trust you to resist the lure of shopping in Rome?’
Was he serious? Did he think she could endure this level of tension every day? ‘If you wanted to employ me, Signor Ruggiero, I should have to warn you, I’m not free—’
‘Rigo,’ he reminded her. ‘Ah, well,’ he murmured, lips pressing down in mock-regret, ‘I shall just have to find a way to live with the disappointment.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘We should be getting back to finish our business. What have you done about your flight?’
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