The Italian's Summer Seduction. Karen Van Der Zee

and wondering how Jilly could actually choose to wear such stuff.

      Thankfully, when Cesare entered the room, she was spared more personal delving. She hadn’t known he was back and, to her horror, a hot spiralling ache invaded her pelvis as she stared at his broad and gorgeous back and narrowly clad long legs as he immediately strode over to where his grandmother sat and lifted her hands to his lips, sparing Milly not a single glance.

      Gratefully seizing the opportunity to make herself scarce, she got to her feet and, as if Cesare had second sight, he drawled, ‘Stay where you are. I need to talk to you both.’

      Turning, he caught her in the act of sneaking out of the room. Her face flushed a furious scarlet then paled to ash grey beneath the light tan she’d picked up since arriving in Tuscany when he announced, his fantastically handsome face the picture of innocence, ‘Nonna, if you can spare Jilly, I need to be in Florence. I’d like to take her with me—I’m sure there are things she needs to buy and I’d like to give her dinner afterwards.’

      As a bombshell it couldn’t have been more unwelcome. She had no idea what he was up to. In her role as Jilly she should jump at the opportunity to spend time with her one-time lover, hoping against hope he could be persuaded to change his mind about marriage.

      But as she wasn’t her twin, merely her pale shadow—a shadow who craved his company as well as seeing the personal danger in that weak self indulgence—she would have to get out of it somehow.

      She sent an unconsciously pleading look in Filomena’s direction, willing the old lady to voice an objection at being deprived of her companion, and felt sickeningly let down when all she got was a bright smile and, ‘What a splendid idea! I spoiled the break she needed when I had that silly accident and she has worked tirelessly and so cheerfully. A daughter couldn’t have shown more kindness—she deserves to be spoiled!’

      Milly cringed at the fulsome praise, she didn’t deserve it, not while her deceit was sticking like a hard rock behind her breastbone. And there was no way out as far as she could see, not unless she threw a sudden fainting fit. As she didn’t trust her acting ability to accomplish that she mumbled through a mouth that felt too stiff to open, ‘I’ll get changed, then.’

      ‘There’s no need.’ Cesare was at her side. A firm hand encircled her arm, just above her elbow. Her flesh burned and quivered at his touch. It was the first time he had touched her since that morning on the beach and it sensitised every cell in her body, made her so sexually aware of him she didn’t know what to do with herself.

      ‘You can change later,’ he promised silkily. ‘Right now, Stefano is waiting to drive us.’

      Chapter Nine

      STARING AT THE back of Stefano’s neck and thankful for the sleek, top-of-the-range vehicle’s effective air-conditioning that helped her feel marginally less sticky and uncomfortable, Milly vowed that the moment she and Cesare got some privacy she would come clean, tell him everything and take his understandable and flaying anger because she guessed she deserved it.

      Gritting her teeth, she tried to ignore the bombardment of nerves that was turning her stomach upside down and inside out at the thought that after his initial rage would come his scornful hatred. She tried to concentrate on figuring out why Cesare, cool and brooding and speechless at her side, had insisted she go to Florence with him and what he had meant when he’d told her she could change later.

      She would have asked him there and then but she positively knew she wouldn’t get the whole truth, just something bland, fit for Stefano’s ears.

      When the car at last drew to a halt in front of the Saracino Palace she stared at the opulent Renaissance building with wide-eyed awe. During one of her long chatty conversations with Filomena the old lady had mentioned in passing that the hotel had been in their family for decades, as if it was no big deal!

      Unable to imagine what it must be like to belong to a family that had old money coming out of its ears—not to mention the gigantic profits that came from a world-spanning business empire, Milly settled to wait as Cesare fired off instructions in Italian to Stefano and slid his long legs to the pavement, imagining that perhaps she was to be dropped somewhere else in the city and returned at an hour of Cesare’s choosing.

      But the door at her side swung open and she found herself staring into that darkly sexy face, her stomach flipping as he commanded with impatience at her glued to her seat stance, ‘Come, we are blocking the traffic.’

      ‘I’m sorry, I thought—’

      ‘Basta! Just move it!’

      Only now aware of the cacophony of car horns Milly slid out, appalled by the way her borrowed miniskirt skidded up to reveal her no-nonsense white panties, flushing to the roots of her pale blonde hair as someone vented a loud wolf-whistle. Her colour in no way subsided as Cesare clamped a lean bronzed hand on her elbow and hustled her on to the pavement as a uniformed doorman gave him a deferential greeting.

      Respect and genuine warmth enveloped him on all sides, Milly noted as he strode with her over the cool marble paving of the immense reception area. She was horribly aware of the same eyes assessing her, though.

      His staff probably thought she was some slapper he’d picked up off the street and, her slim shoulders slumping as she tried to make herself invisible, she muttered uncomfortably, ‘I’m not dressed for this place and if you’re thinking of eating here—’ he had told Filomena he wanted to give her dinner ‘—I’d rather find a back street joint,’ and found herself ushered into a private lift and whisked upwards.

      Cesare, leaning back against the satin finished steel wall, studied her through veiled eyes. The blonde silk of her hair tumbled into her eyes and her lovely mouth was a mutinous pink pout and she winced whenever she took a step in the ridiculous heels she was wearing. His heart ached for her discomfort and he marvelled at the feeling of guilt that consumed him over what was to come.

      Telling her he was fully aware that she was not who she was pretending to be would shame and embarrass her and he hated the thought of that, of doing or saying anything to hurt or discomfit her, and tried to make sense of the immense protective feelings she aroused in him. Shifting his position uneasily he hoped he wasn’t turning soft, losing his edge!

      But it had to be done, he reminded himself with cool determination as the doors whispered open directly on to the sitting room of the elegant suite kept exclusively for his use.

      Milly’s spiky heels sank into the depth of the soft jade-green carpet that covered a vast room in which a group of pale lemon silk-covered upholstered armchairs surrounded a long low marble-topped table, the rest of the furniture being ornate antiques, the Tuscan landscapes on the silk-covered walls framed with gilded opulence.

      ‘This suite is kept for my use,’ he imparted coolly, slapping down his libido and ignoring the growing need to kiss her again, to discover if she would respond as beautifully as she had on that never to be forgotten occasion. ‘And for the use of important clients or occasional business colleagues.’

      Had he brought Jilly here? Had he insisted on conducting their affair away from the prying eyes of his grandmother and his staff at the villa? A shiver coursed through her and only stopped when she got her brain into gear and remembered that he thought she was Jilly and if he’d brought her here before he wouldn’t be making those explanations.

      This ridiculous and utterly hateful situation had to end! Gathering all her courage, her confession on the tip of her tongue, her eyes shot to his as he forestalled her. ‘I have something for you.’

      His eyes were warm—she would have said tender had she been in the habit of giving way to wild imaginings. And his smile made her forget what she’d been going to say as he led her through to a sumptuous bedroom where half a dozen classy boxes were laid out on the satin coverlet of the enormous half tester bed.

      ‘I had these delivered. Replacements for the clothes you left behind on the island in your desire to waste not one moment because you understood my haste to fly to Nonna’s side. I hope