The Italian's Virgin Acquisition. Michelle Conder

and smiling at her.

      ‘What? Oh...yes.’ Poppy turned to face him, relieved to have the unwanted spell of his grandson broken. ‘Okay, well...’ She moistened her lips and turned just as Sebastiano stepped forward, bringing them almost nose to chest. ‘Sorry.’ She stepped back quickly. ‘I’ll...uh...let you have your meeting. It was nice to meet you, Signor Castiglione.’

      ‘What? No coffee?’ Sebastiano mocked.

      Poppy’s eyes widened. Was he making a joke?

      ‘Yes. It was a joke. Seems I’m a bit rusty. Thank you for tying my tie,’ he said softly. Intimately.

      ‘You’re welcome.’

      Cut and run! her common sense shouted at her. ‘Have—er—have a good meeting,’ she said, finally kicking her brain into gear and hurrying through the office door. She didn’t take another breath until the lift doors had closed around her and she could put that surreal experience behind her. Then she slumped against the wall and wondered if any of that had really happened.

      * * *

      As soon as she closed his office door, Sebastiano turned back to his grandfather. ‘How was your flight?’

      ‘Good. This woman.’ He nodded slowly. ‘I approve.’

      An image of his intern’s nimble fingers skating over his chest as she fixed his tie jumped into Sebastiano’s consciousness.

      He approved as well, or at least his body did.

      From the first moment he’d looked round and seen her standing in his doorway he’d felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. It was why he had sounded so rude about her clothing. Of course she could wear casual clothing to the office on a weekend if she wanted. He wasn’t a tyrant. He’d just been thrown by those velvet-blue eyes staring squarely back at him with no artifice in them at all.

      The rest of her wasn’t bad either. Understatement, he acknowledged wryly. Her figure was glorious: slim hips, rounded breasts pushing against her thin sweater and a thick pile of ash-brown hair pulled into a high ponytail, revealing a slender neck below sweet rosebud lips. She wasn’t his usual type by a long shot but there was something about her that was at once innocent and impish. And hot. The way she had looked at him...an intelligent sparkle lighting those blue eyes as if she could see right through him.

      When she had turned pink and asked him why he had been holding her wrist, he’d had an inexplicable desire to know what it would be like to wake up beside her, her face that colour from his love-making.

      The memory pulled him up short. She was an intern in his office so she was automatically off limits—no matter how tempting—and, even if she wasn’t, he kept his relationships light and uncomplicated. Something about the way she hadn’t turned coy or giggly to attract his attention told him that she was neither light nor uncomplicated. Which was why he intended to forget that he had even met her.

      ‘I’m glad you approve,’ he said to his grandfather. ‘But it’s your approval for me to take over as CEO of Castiglione Europa that I want. You can’t keep travelling to Rome every other day to bark at everyone, and you know it. You also know that Nonna wants you to retire,’ he added, playing his trump card. ‘It’s time.’

      ‘Time to do what?’ his grandfather grouched. ‘Play boules? Pick grapes? Spend time with my grandchildren? Now there—’ he pointed a knotted finger at Sebastiano ‘—there would be a reason to retire.’

      And here were go, Sebastiano thought. Operation Marriage. It was a clever name for it but he’d still give Paula grief about not informing him of the office betting pool when she came in tomorrow morning. ‘Yes, yes, I know what you want,’ he said. ‘And I’m working on it.’

      ‘So what is the hold-up?’ his grandfather asked. ‘You are having trouble making her say yes, is that it?’ His grandfather grinned, seeming to like that idea. But having a woman say yes wasn’t a problem Sebastiano had ever encountered. Quite the opposite, in fact, but regardless of that he understood that he was too much of a loner to make any relationship work in the long term. A fact many of his women would be more than happy to attest to.

      Realising that his grandfather was waxing lyrical about how nice Poppy seemed, Sebastiano shrugged off his uncharacteristic lapse in concentration. ‘Forget all that,’ he dismissed, not wanting to let his mind wander back to his sassy little intern. ‘Tell me what I want to hear. You need to retire, and now, with this new deal I just finalised, the timing couldn’t be better to merge SJC with the family business. You know it as well as I do.’

      His grandfather steepled his hands beneath his chin, taking his time answering, as he was wont to do. When he was a child Sebastiano had grown fidgety under that steady regard—now he just used it himself when it suited him.

      ‘I’ll tell you right now, I’m impressed with what I just saw,’ his grandfather said slowly. ‘You should have mentioned Poppy sooner.’

      Poppy? Were they still talking about his intern? ‘Why would I mention her sooner?’ he rasped, his brain prodding him that he was missing something important.

      ‘Ah, I see, you want me to hand over the family company on your terms and not mine. That pride of yours will not do you any good in the long run, I’ve always told you that.’

      ‘Nonno—’

      ‘You always were a good boy, and now you have grown into a fine man. But seriously, Sebastiano, sometimes you cannot see what is in front of your face. Fortunately for you I am here to point out the obvious.’

      Sebastiano frowned. ‘Wait, do you...?’

      His grandfather reached across the desk and laid a hand over his. His nonno’s skin was old and leathery, almost papery in its frailty, his fingers vibrating slightly as they gripped onto him. ‘We have been waiting for you to ditch all those party girls and choose a nice girl to settle down with. And this girl is good.’

      Sebastiano went perfectly still. His grandfather thought he and Poppy were an item—it was written all over his craggy features—which was ironic, when in fact they had only just met. But he supposed he could see how his grandfather had got that impression. For one, she had turned up in the office looking as much like an intern as he looked like a monk. And, two, he had very nearly lost his head and kissed her when she’d finished tying his tie.

      ‘She is the one for you, and when your grandmother sees you together she will be so proud that we did right by you after all.’

      Hold on—what? ‘The one?’

      ‘Si. And she said she knows how to handle you.’ His grandfather chuckled. ‘You need a strong woman like that.’

      Sebastiano knew his grandmother ruled their casa but, hell, had Poppy—Miss Connolly—truly said she had him under the thumb?

      His frown deepened; no wonder his grandfather had jumped to all the wrong conclusions. But why would she say that? And more importantly what was he going to do about it?

      He recalled the slumberous way her eyes had moved over him when she’d been tying his tie. It had been from desire; he would have put money on it because his own body had sent the same message to his brain.

      I want her, it had said, right now.

      Sebastiano didn’t want to think about his grandfather’s reaction when he told him that, far from being his latest girlfriend, Poppy Connolly was nothing more than a temporary employee. But, instead of wasting his breath to try and convince the old man he was wrong, Sebastiano tried again to direct him away from his love life. ‘Let’s get down to business.’

      ‘No. Let’s save it for your trip to Italy.’

      Sebastiano went as still as a stone. As a general rule he limited his trips to his home country as much as possible. Especially to the family casa where his memories were so strong. ‘What trip to Italy?’

      ‘For your grandmother and my sixtieth