The Italian's One-Night Consequence. Cathy Williams

talking about.’

      Maddie stiffened at the criticism. ‘You’ll find that everyone else on the shop floor has worked here for a very long time. If you like, I can fetch someone over here to help you in your...your quest for the perfect face cream for your mother.’

      ‘I’ll let you in on a little secret,’ the man said with a tinge of regret, his navy blue eyes never once leaving her face. ‘I lied about wanting the cream for my mother. My mother died when I was a boy.’ Sincere regret seeped into his voice. ‘Both my parents, in actual fact,’ he added in a roughened undertone.

      ‘I’m so sorry.’

      Maddie still felt the loss of her own mother, but she had had her around for a great deal longer than the man standing in front of her had had his. Her father had never been in the picture. He’d done a runner before she was old enough to walk.

      Maddie knew scraps of the story that had brought her mother from Italy to the other side of the world. There had been an argument between her mother and the grandfather Maddie hadn’t ever known which had never been resolved. Harsh words exchanged and then too much pride on both sides for any resolution until time took over, making reconciliation an impossibility.

      Her mother had been a strong woman—someone who had planted both feet and stood her ground. Stubborn... But then she’d had to fight her way in Australia with a young baby to take care of. Maddie felt that her grandfather might have had the same traits—although she had no real idea because she’d never been told. Secretly she wondered if the grandfather she’d never met might have attempted to contact her mother, only to have his efforts spurned. Parents were often more forgiving with their children than the other way around.

      Her eyes misted over and she reached out and impulsively circled the man’s wrist with her fingers—and then yanked her hand back because the charge of electricity that shot through her was downright frightening.

      He raised his eyebrows, and for a second she felt that he could read every thought that had flashed through her head.

      ‘No need,’ he murmured. ‘Have dinner with me.’

      ‘I beg your pardon?’

      ‘I’ll pass on the face cream. Frankly, all those wild claims can’t possibly be true. But have dinner with me. Name the place, name the time...’

      ‘You’re not interested in buying anything in this store, are you?’

      Maddie’s voice cooled by several degrees, because he was just another example of a cocky guy who wanted to get her into bed. She’d been spot-on first time round.

      ‘And as for a dinner date... That’ll be a no.’

      Dinner with this man? How arrogant was he?

      Her eyes slid surreptitiously over him and she understood very well why he was as arrogant as he was. The guy was drop-dead gorgeous.

      Lean, perfectly chiselled features, dark hair worn slightly too long, which emphasised his powerful masculinity rather than detracting from it, a tightly honed body that testified to time spent working out, even though he didn’t look like the sort of man who spent much time preening in front of mirrors and flexing his muscles. And those eyes... Sexy, bedroom eyes that made her skin burn and made her thoughts wander to what a dinner date with him might be like...

      She forced herself to conjure up the hateful memory of her ex—Adam. He’d been good-looking too. Plus charming, charismatic, and from the sort of family that had spent generations looking down on people like her. Well, that whole experience had been a learning curve for Maddie, and she wasn’t about to put those valuable lessons to waste by succumbing to the phoney charm of the man in front of her with his sinful good looks and his I could make your body sing bedroom eyes.

      ‘Should I be?’

      Maddie frowned. ‘What do you mean? What are you talking about?’

      ‘Should I be interested in buying anything here? Look around you. This is a department store that’s gone to rack and ruin. I’m staggered that you would even have contemplated working here in the first place. The job situation in Dublin must be dire for you to have settled on this—and you’ve obviously had no on-the-job training because there isn’t enough money to go round for such essentials as training programmes. I’m pretty sure that if I looked I’d find an array of out-of-date merchandise and demotivated sales assistants.’

      ‘Who are you?’

      Maddie looked at him narrowly. Was she missing something?

      * * *

      Leo met her stare and held it. He’d planned on a little incognito surveillance and he was going to stick to the plan—bar this little detour which, he thought, he could very well use to his advantage. She’d turned down his dinner date but he wasn’t fazed by that. Women never said no to him for very long.

      Although...

      He frowned, because this particular woman didn’t seem to fit the mould.

      ‘Just someone browsing,’ Leo said smoothly, and then he added, truthfully, ‘I don’t get to this part of the world very often and I wanted to see this store everyone seems to know about.’ He looked around him. ‘I’m less than impressed.’

      The woman followed his gaze and said nothing, perhaps because she’d noticed those very same signs of disrepair. She seemed to suddenly realise that he was still watching her, his eyes narrowed.

      ‘I can see that you agree with me.’

      ‘Like I said, I haven’t been here for very long—but if you’re looking for something to buy as a souvenir of the store, there’s an excellent selection on the second floor. Mugs, tote bags, lots of stuff...’

      Leo suppressed a shudder at the image of tackiness created in his head. Had the place moved with the times at all? Or had progress being quietly sidelined as Gallo’s money ran out?

      He had a satisfying vision of what the place would look like under his dominion. High-tech, white glossy counters and open, uncluttered spaces, glass and mirrors, ranks of computers and accessories waiting to be explored—no irritating background elevator music and salespeople who actually knew what they were talking about.

      ‘If you have lots of money to spend, then we offer a range of leather handbags which we manufacture ourselves to the highest possible standard. They’re Italian, and really beautiful quality.’

      ‘Sadly,’ Leo said, easily giving voice to the lie, ‘my finances would struggle to stretch to one of your leather handbags.’

      She nodded. He didn’t seem like the sort of broke, wrong-side-of-the-tracks kind of guy she had encountered during her life, but it was a fact that a good-looking man could look expensive in anything.

      ‘But I could probably stretch to one of those tote things you mentioned...’

      ‘Second floor.’

      ‘Take me.’

      ‘Come again?’

      ‘I want you to do your sales pitch on me.’

      ‘I’ll be honest with you,’ she said flatly, ‘if this is another way of trying to get me to have dinner with you, then you can forget it. I won’t be doing that.’

      Leo wondered whether she would have had a change of heart had she known his true worth. Most definitely, he thought, with his usual healthy dose of cynicism. That said, he was a man accustomed to getting what he wanted—and the more he talked to her, looked at her, felt the pleasurable race of his pulses and the hard throb of his libido, the more he wanted to rise to the challenge of breaking down whatever walls she felt she had to erect.

      For once, work and the reason he was in this sad excuse of a store had been put on the back burner.

      ‘You’re very arrogant, aren’t you?’ he murmured, watching her