Untamed Italians. Janette Kenny
autostrada. “I am sure you will find a cocktail dress there.”
“I see no reason to buy something new when I have perfectly suitable clothes in my flat,” she said, her chin lifted in challenge.
Designer clothes that his papa had purchased, or more of the same demure garments like she wore now? Since nobody claimed to have seen his papa and her out on the town, he suspected she hadn’t been treated that lavishly.
And of course since she shunned the trappings of a mistress, the liaison had continued with nobody the wiser. Sly. Very sly.
“Consider the dress a gift for your dedication to my father and Marinetti Shipping,” he said, forcing a warm smile that he didn’t feel.
She didn’t voice a protest, but the pinched look on her face said she didn’t like this at all.
Stefano’s smile deepened. When he was through with her, everyone would know she was his paid paramour.
Gemma stared at herself in the dressing room mirror, trying without success to block Stefano’s rich laugh as he chatted with the designer and flirted with any female who ventured near. She’d looked out earlier to find him lounging in a chair with a glass of wine dangling from his long tanned fingers.
Every move he made was fluid, like a maestro conducting an orchestra. The silent music was a sensual caress that left her skin tingling. Left her restive yet compelled her to sway to the rhythm pounding in her blood.
His aura was so powerful to her senses that she had to literally tear her gaze from him to break the spell.
Mio Dio! How could she find such a callous man attractive?
It vexed her that Stefano had given everyone here the impression they were an item. Protesting would have only drawn more attention to her and the arrogant billionaire, so she closeted herself in the dressing room to try on the selection of dresses that Stefano had chosen.
He’d laughed and said it wasn’t necessary to test the fit. And he had been annoyingly right!
The teal cocktail dress fit her to perfection. The color emphasized the blue-green of her eyes and complemented her fair complexion that she’d inherited from her English mother.
The plunging neckline gave more than a teasing peek of the deep valley between her bosom. It also exposed the dainty necklace that her papa had given her.
A sad smile tugged at her mouth as she ran a finger over the pendant suspended on a fine gold chain. How long had he saved to buy the aquamarine surrounded by tiny diamonds? Months? Perhaps a year?
Her fingers tightened around the necklace. It looked insignificant paired with this dress that cost more than two months’ wages. But then Stefano’s friend was Vanni—a new yet much desired designer!
“Ah, I see you do have jewelry,” Stefano said from the doorway of her dressing room, startling her by his boldness. “I hadn’t noticed earlier.”
“How dare you barge in here!”
His sculpted lips curved into a devilish smile. “You will find I dare many things.”
She dreaded to imagine what else he had in store for her.
“The dress fits you to perfection,” he said.
She refused to warm to the compliment. “I don’t wear daring necklines.”
“You should,” he said. “It is a shame to cover such beauty.”
“Such flattery,” she said, trying to sound glib though she trembled inside with anger and that damning sensual pull. “I’m sure you flirt outrageously with every woman you meet.”
“Sì, but I only compliment the ones who justly deserve it.”
She couldn’t think of a thing to say to that remark so she just affected a calm she didn’t feel and smiled up at him. Meeting his gaze head-on was a mistake.
His dark eyes glittered with amusement and passion, and the firm line of his mouth curved into a disarming smile, transforming him from the hard resolute man into a devilish charmer. Her knees went weak and her insides trembled in an erotic hum of desire.
He reached out and stroked a finger down her cheek, and the control she’d fought to maintain shattered into a billion shards of new sensations. “You are beautiful, mio caro.”
She reached behind her and grasped the dressing room curtain to steady herself when every fiber in her body ached to reach out to him. What was happening to her?
Yes, he was devastatingly attractive, but she hated what he stood for. She hated the power he wielded over her. She hated him for storming into her peaceful, quiet life and turning it into a maelstrom of emotions in just one day.
“Thank you, but I’d like to try on something else.” Something less revealing. Something that wouldn’t make her feel sophisticated and desirable.
“There is no time. Come.”
She bit her lip, torn between protesting or going meekly along as a lamb to the slaughter. “I refuse to leave here in this dress.”
“Very well, but make it a short moment.” He backed from the dressing room, but the spice of his cologne remained to tease her senses.
Gemma drew in a shaky breath and then another, angry and aroused and confused in turn. She felt vulnerable. Alone.
Silly emotions to feel since they’d be surrounded by other people in the restaurant. It wouldn’t be long and her brother would join them and she’d meet Stefano’s first payment.
And if Emilio didn’t show up?
She refused to think that as she donned her sensible clothes and left the dressing room with the new dress hanging on the hook.
Stefano was waiting for her, but instead of hurrying her out the door, he waited until the assistant hurried forward with his purchase carefully covered in an opaque garment bag.
She certainly didn’t want him buying anything for her. This dress far exceeded any bonus she’d earned from her job and was far too revealing to wear to work. And what was he thinking anyway by buying her clothes when she was already indebted to him?
“You should have foregone this bit of shopping,” she said as Stefano escorted her to the sleek silver car that had attracted a small crowd. “The delay will make you late for your business meeting.”
“It’s nothing that can’t be made up in driving time,” he said as he helped her into the butter-soft leather passenger seat and then quickly slid behind the wheel.
The thought of racing to their destination sent alarm zinging along her nerves. But as the car sped along the highway, she found herself enjoying the view of the islands strung into the Ligurian Sea like emeralds floating on the foam-edged blue waters.
She supposed to any passerby they looked like a couple out enjoying the evening. But that was just an illusion.
There was nothing casual about her being with Stefano tonight. This was pure business. The question was where would the night end? With her free of his hold, or more firmly caught in his grasp?
She instinctively lifted a hand to her neck, a gesture that had become habit when she was anxious. But toying with the necklace would only draw attention to her nervousness and Stefano would surely use that to his advantage.
Her hand fluttered back to her lap. “Did you say your company offices are in Livorno?”
“The offices and the shipyard,” he said. “The hull on Canto Di Mare’s new thirty-five meter yacht is finished and waiting for my approval.”
“Another hulking superyacht to crowd the Mediterranean?”
He laughed, a rich baritone that had the power to soothe her tense nerves. “I see you have adopted my father’s view on big pleasure ships.”