Virgin: Wedded At The Italian's Convenience. Diana Hamilton

to her Great-Aunt Edith, who was watching from the window, and set off down the tangle of narrow country lanes for Felton Hall.

      Concern for her elderly relative wiped the cheery smile from her face as she steered into the first bend. Many years ago Edith had started the charity—just a small local concern—organising bring and buys, jumble sales, writing begging letters to local bigwigs, setting out her aims. She had relied on volunteers—especially Alice Dunstan, who had meticulously kept their accounts. Now Alice had left the area, which meant the accounts were in a mess and funds were dismally low. The people carrier—bought second hand, courtesy of a legacy from a well-wisher—was due for a major service and MOT, and the Mini was clapped out. The insurance bill was due—they couldn’t operate without that—and she simply didn’t know where the money was coming from.

      And, worse than that, for the first time in her eighty years Edith had admitted she was feeling her age. The indefatigable spirit was fading. She was even talking of being forced into closing the operation down.

      Lily set her jaw. Not if she could help it! She owed her great-aunt everything. It was she who had taken her in after her mother had died when her father, claiming that he couldn’t cope with a fractious eighteen-month-old, had handed her over to his departed wife’s only living relative and done a bunk, never to be heard of again. The old lady who had legally adopted her, given her love and a happy, secure, if rather old-fashioned childhood was owed her very best efforts.

      If the Hall offered rich pickings next Saturday’s event would be a success, and the hurdle of the insurance bill could be jumped. Lily’s natural optimism took over, and she put her foot down, but had to stamp on the brakes as she rounded the bend, sliding in the mud to avoid running into the back of a shiny new Ford that was all but blocking the narrow lane.

      Clutching the wheel with white-knuckled hands, Lily watched the driver’s door open. A smartly suited thirty-something woman emerged and hurried towards her, her beautifully made-up face a mixture of hope and anxiety.

      Anxiety won as Lily wound down her window. ‘Oh—I hoped—I’ve been here for ages. My boss will be waiting and he doesn’t do waiting! Roadworks on the motorway, then I got lost—took the wrong turn out of Market Hallow—and then I got this wretched puncture! And, to cap it all, I left in such a hurry I forgot my mobile, so I can’t let him know what’s happening. He’ll kill me!’

      The poor woman looked on the verge of hysterics, and her boss—whoever he was—sounded foul! Hiding a grin, Lily scrambled out of her old car. This elegantly clad secretary-type had obviously hoped for a burly man to happen along. Her hopes must have taken a nosedive when she was confronted by a short skinny female!

      ‘No worries.’ Lily let her grin show. ‘I’ll soon get you going again.’

      ‘Oh—are you sure?’ she asked, not sounding too convinced.

      ‘Open the boot,’ Lily offered firmly. To save on garage bills she did most of the vehicle maintenance herself, and had gone to evening classes to learn how.

      Ten minutes later the wheel had been replaced with the spare, and the front of her relatively smart belted raincoat was covered in mud—ditto her hands and best shoes.

      The morning’s driving rain had been replaced by a miserable drizzle, so she wasn’t soaked to the skin as she had been earlier. But her hair was hanging in rats’ tails and she must look as if she’d been mud-wrestling! And she’d been at such pains to smarten herself up for her encounter with the new owner of the Hall!

      But it was worth it when she was on the receiving end of a huge grin of gratitude. ‘I can’t thank you enough! You’ve saved my life! All I can say is I hope someone comes to your rescue if you ever need it!’

      Finding her slight shoulders grasped, and a kiss planted on both cheeks, Lily could only grin as the woman drove away, then returned to her own car to scrub as much of the mud as she could from her hands and shoes with the few tissues left in the box. But there was nothing she could do about the awful state of her raincoat.

      Hopefully, her unlovely appearance wouldn’t have the new owner slamming the door in her face. On the whole people were responsive to good causes. On which strengthening thought, she turned into the long, tree-lined driveway to Felton Hall, her spirits rising when she saw the stranded woman’s car parked beside a top-of-the-range Lexus, then wobbling as she recalled how the distraught female had said things that made her boss sound like a monster!

      But she wasn’t going to back away now. She grasped the iron bell-pull and gave a decisive tug.

      Having waved aside Penny Fleming’s excuses, Paolo Venini had handed her the architect’s folder and the other papers she needed to review before the next day’s meeting. He had almost finished succinctly briefing her when the ancient doorbell clanged discordantly. ‘See who that is and get rid of them!’

      Pacing the book-lined study, he glanced at his watch. The bank’s private jet was on standby. It would take him roughly an hour to reach the airport—less if he really put his foot down. What was keeping the woman? How long could it take to open a door and tell whoever was standing there to go away?

      He had all the instincts of a high-achiever, and aggression in the face of tardiness and delay was one of them. It drew his dark brows down in a frown, which deepened as a conciliatory-looking Penny Fleming emerged from the doorway with that grubby beggar-girl in tow!

      Exasperated, Paolo drew in a deep breath, about to tell his usually robotically efficient PA that unless she got her act together she would be fired, and to remember that he didn’t give that warning twice. But, no doubt to forestall the expected verbal onslaught, she rushed in.

      ‘This is Lily. She works for a local charity. Is there anything she could take for a jumble sale?’

      Madonna diavola! He was beset by fools! And the creature he’d clearly mistaken for a beggar this morning looked like a charity case herself!

      But he was not an ungenerous man. He gave handsomely to many worthy causes.

      He addressed the scrawny, mud-stained female. ‘What is the charity?’

      Lily swallowed. This was the drop-dead gorgeous guy who had had such a weird effect on her this morning. He might be fantastic to look at, but, boy, did those eyes turn into shards of gold ice as he looked at her! He probably had a heart of pure ice to match!

      When Penny, as she’d named herself, had opened the door and listened to her request with evident sympathy, Lily’s confidence had soared. Especially when Penny informed her in a whisper that she believed her boss was indeed unlikely to want to keep the contents of the house, and one good turn deserved another so she’d see what she could do.

      Lily could see he was impatient. That sensual mouth had compressed above a rock-solid jaw. He probably didn’t do patience either!

      She answered belatedly, but as firmly as she could. ‘My great-aunt started Life Begins ten years ago. I help.’ Encouraged by the way Penny gave her elbow a squeeze, she ploughed on. ‘We help old people locally. Practical stuff, like shopping, cleaning, helping them stay in their own homes if they fall outside the social security net, driving—’

      ‘Basta! Enough.’ He slashed through the increasingly confident spiel. She had amazing eyes. Clear. Innocent. Honest. And the quickest way to get back to serious matters was to just let her have what she wanted. ‘Wait in the hall. When she is free, Miss Fleming will help you decide what’s suitable.’

      Dismissed from The Presence. Heartfelt words of thanks tripped from her widely smiling mouth as she backed out of the room. But he wasn’t listening—was already turning to answer the phone that had begun to ring. Telling herself that she didn’t care, didn’t mind being got rid of as if she were a really insignificant and annoying irritant, Lily waited as directed. She had got what she’d come for. His permission to walk away with the sort of stuff that would persuade the punters to part with their hard-earned cash and put Life Begins in a slightly more viable financial position.

      His eyes haunted,