Название | The Italian's Ruthless Baby Bargain |
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Автор произведения | Margaret Mayo |
Жанр | Контркультура |
Серия | Mills & Boon Modern |
Издательство | Контркультура |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781408909454 |
Santo’s male hormones were behaving badly. And it annoyed him because he didn’t want to be attracted to Penny. He’d had girlfriends, yes, in plenty, in the years he’d been alone after his wife had left him. But nothing serious. They all knew it was just a game to him.
But Penny was different. For one thing she was his employee—and it was a cardinal rule of his to never mix business with pleasure. And for another, he sensed that she wouldn’t be into casual affairs. He couldn’t quite weigh her up yet but he had the feeling that she wouldn’t settle for anything less than a serious relationship. When she met the man of her dreams it would be an all-or-nothing affair.
And what a lucky man he would be. She had to be every man’s dream. Beautiful, smart, capable, interesting. He could think of plenty of adjectives to describe her. Sexy, provocative… He stopped his thoughts right there and tossed the rest of his whisky down his throat.
Standing up, he said, ‘It’s warm in here, don’t you think? Shall we continue our talk outside?’ Where there was more air to breathe! Where he could put more space between them.
Penny smiled her consent and jumped to her feet. ‘You have an incredible place here, Mr De Luca. I’d love to explore your gardens.’
‘Santo. Please call me Santo,’ he suggested softly.
‘I’d rather not; it’s a little too informal for our situation,’ she answered swiftly.
He noticed that her eyes had turned from blue to amethyst in the changing evening light. They looked softer and more vulnerable—and, dammit, he didn’t want to notice these things. She was here to work, nothing else, and he’d be as well to remember it. ‘I can’t have you calling me Mr De Luca when we’re on our own.’
‘How about Signor De Luca?’ she asked cheekily, and he was taken again by the flash in her eyes. She was so beautiful, all woman, teasing and flirtatious, whether she knew it or not. He guessed she didn’t; she would probably be horrified if she knew what he was thinking. How he was interpreting her behaviour.
‘Tell me about yourself,’ he said, conscious his voice was even gruffer than usual. ‘I really know very little—except that you come with impeccable credentials, and that you have no boyfriend,’ he added with a twist to his lips. ‘Where do you live, for instance?’
‘I share a flat with a friend in Notting Hill. Or at least I did, I moved out today.’
‘I see. Would that be a female friend?’ The question was out before he could stop it. Even though she’d said that she didn’t have a boyfriend.
‘Are you prying into my private life, Mr De Luca?’
He was startled by her question until he saw the twinkle in her eyes again and managed a smile himself. ‘I’m very curious. Do you have any family? Of course you do not have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I always take an interest in my employees’ private lives; I always enquire about husbands or wives or partners, because if there’s a problem at home it can sometimes affect their work and then I can make allowances. I believe my interest helps improve working relationships.’
She looked at him disbelievingly for a few seconds and then she laughed, and it was such a musical sound that he felt like laughing too. He wanted to pick her up and twirl her around. He wanted to kiss her; he wanted to… He stopped his thoughts right there, berating himself for being fanciful. And he was grateful when she spoke.
‘In that case, if it will improve our relationship, the answer to your question about my flatmate is that she is female.’ And she slanted him another glance to see how he would take it.
He pretended not to notice.
‘Do I have family?’ she went on. ‘My father died when I was Chloe’s age. And my mother died a couple of years ago; she’d been ill a long time. But I have a twin sister who has a six-year-old and a new baby. I visit her often. I love the kids.’
All the time she’d been speaking they had been walking along a flagstoned path that led to the lake. It was a favourite place of his to sit and meditate—especially at this time of night. And he was looking forward to Penny’s reaction.
It was not what he expected. When the vast expanse of water came into sight she gave a squeal of horror. ‘Mr De Luca, you never told me about this. It’s not exactly safe for Chloe. It really should be fenced.’
Never before could he remember feeling so deflated.
And horrified. It had not occurred to him that it could be dangerous. He hoped none of the other nannies had ever let Chloe out to play on her own. He went hot and cold at the thought of what the consequences could have been.
‘It will be done,’ he declared. ‘Immediately. Mio Dio, sono un idiota.’
‘Otherwise,’ said Penny, and he swore he could hear a hint of mischief in her voice, ‘it’s beautiful here.’
‘It is especially beautiful at this time in the evening,’ he answered. But he wasn’t looking at the water, he was looking at Penny instead, and when she looked back at him with eyes so wide and so incredibly lovely he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her—regardless of the consequences.
Penny saw the intent on Santo’s face and knew that she had to act swiftly, or she too would give in to temptation. And how dangerous would that be? Her job would be gone and she’d never find another like it.
It had to be the incredible patterns of colour in the sky, reflected so perfectly in the water, that had done it. It was a place for lovers. It was a magical evening, everything still and hushed—and temptation was everywhere.
Not a place for an employer and employee. Unless she’d got it wrong and he hadn’t been going to kiss her, but she couldn’t be sure and she dared not take the risk. It would ruin everything, even though he was the most gorgeous man she’d ever met.
He wouldn’t be after a serious relationship, just a bit of fun. And she wasn’t up for that. She had many friends who would be—Louise, for instance. Friends who would tell her she was stupid not to go for it. Millionaires, billionaires, whatever, always lavished their girlfriends with expensive gifts. That way they didn’t feel guilty when they dumped you.
Well, this girl wasn’t for dumping. This girl wasn’t going to enter into any kind of a relationship with him—except a purely professional one.
‘Have you lived here very long?’ she asked, deliberately moving a few feet away from him, pretending to watch a pair of ducks who’d broken the silence by squabbling on the other side of the lake.
He didn’t answer her question. ‘Why don’t you have a boyfriend?’ he said instead. ‘A beautiful woman like you, I would have thought you’d have a whole string of them knocking at your door.’
Penny lifted her shoulders. ‘I’m not interested in men. I’m a career girl.’
‘You intend to be a nanny for the rest of your life?’ he questioned, making it sound as though it was the worst thing she could possibly do.
‘Why not?’ she demanded.
‘I cannot see it happening,’ he declared dismissively. ‘You’re too beautiful to become an old maid. That is the right expression, is it not?’
Penny smiled and nodded. An old maid! It sounded so old-fashioned and not what she had expected from him.
‘One day the right man will come along and you’ll be swept off your feet. And before you know it you’ll be married with a lot of little children of your own to look after. I’m sure that would be far more satisfying than looking after other people’s children.’
‘And you consider yourself an expert on that subject, do you? A man who needs a nanny to look after