Helen Bianchin

Alessandro's Prize


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dawned cold, with drizzly rain, and Lily chose black leggings, soft leather calf-high black boots, an elegant knit thigh-length black dress, and added a long deep red cashmere scarf for contrast and extra warmth.

      After a few days in Lake Como, she was still experiencing the transition from a southern Australian autumn to the close of a chilly northern Italian winter.

      ‘Layers,’ Sophia had advised. ‘And pack an overnight bag with evening wear, for we will be attending one of the after-parties. Alessandro has insisted we stay overnight at his apartment to accommodate our shopping expedition tomorrow.’

      Whoa. For a brief moment Lily vied between pleasure and mild apprehension.

      The shopping expedition would prove delightful. But she had reservations about being a guest in Alessandro’s apartment.

      Reservations she determinedly dismissed on the grounds Sophia would be a fellow guest, and the only time they’d come face to face with their host would be breakfast … if then, for inevitably he’d leave early to begin the business day in his city office.

      It was a matter of convenience, the combination of what would inevitably become a late night, and Alessandro was practically family.

       So get over it.

      Consequently an overnight bag became something more as she chose elegant red evening trousers and matching blouson top, black designer stilettos and a black evening bag. Together with sleep trousers, a cotton sleep vest, toiletries, make-up, and she was good to go.

      In Carlo’s capable hands the large Mercedes purred south from Sophia’s Lake Como villa to Milan, entering the age-old city where traffic was intense, and it appeared every driver vied for position … often with a combination of high risk and dubious skill.

      ‘Ah, we are almost there,’ Sophia enthused as the car slowed before turning into an entrance bay decked with carpet leading into the chosen venue.

      Lily was unsure what to expect, but the sight of the paparazzi crowding in on each car as it arrived, the inevitable crush to determine who were the occupants, the brilliant flash bulbs popping, was incredible, and over the top.

      ‘Your bags will be waiting for you at Alessandro’s apartment,’ Carlo relayed as Sophia and Lily exited the car.

      ‘Grazie, Carlo,’ Sophia offered in thanks. ‘I’ll be in touch with a time for our return.’

      To say the day was an experience to remember didn’t quite cut it, Lily mused as she became caught up with the sheer glamour, the personage of world-famous designers, the models and the Spring Collection fashions.

      From avant-garde to almost bizarre, there were designs that were delightful, appealing and in a brilliant mesh of colours. Worn with professional panache by slender young models with sculptured hairstyles, perfect make-up, who held their heads high, eyes front, and rarely smiled.

      Exquisitely aloof, Lily accorded, and couldn’t help wondering if there was pandemonium behind the scenes as egos clashed in discord.

      Yet on the runway the presentation went like clockwork, there were envious nods from those in the audience who were contracted to record the day for numerous fashion magazines.

      It was a privilege to be there, and Lily turned to Sophia as she offered a genuine thank you, accompanied by an impulsive fleeting kiss to her aunt’s cheek.

      ‘You are enjoying the day, cara?’

      ‘Very much.’

      There were some familiar personages present, women who held high positions with prestigious fashion magazines. New York, Paris, London. Easily recognizable were a few members of royalty, and three actresses seated front-row centre.

      Then the music changed, and her attention returned to the runway where a famed designer provided an awe-inspiring cavalcade that drew murmurs of appreciation.

      It was as the last in a series of models disappeared backstage that Lily experienced a faint prickle of awareness settle at the back of her neck, and she glanced at Sophia in time to see Alessandro slip into a seat next to her aunt.

      There was a brief moment when she caught his smile, managed an acknowledging nod in response, and attempted to dispel his powerful image without much success.

      He was an advocate of fashion?

      Perhaps he was deciding to gift a designer original to his current mistress?

      As if it were any concern of hers …

      So why the sudden shaft of … what? Disappointment?

      How crazy was that? She didn’t even particularly like him. No, that wasn’t entirely true. He aroused thoughts she didn’t want to entertain with any man … especially him. So why this increased sense of awareness? Almost as if her body was at total variance with her mind.

      Get with the programme, for heaven’s sake, she silently bade as she focused her attention on the runway.

      Sky-high heels, platform soles, boots—ankle, mid-calf and mid-thigh. Sandals with straps winding up to mid-calf. Fascinating, thrilling … out of this world. And mostly impractical for everyday wear.

      ‘I can almost feel my feet wincing in sympathy,’ Sophia offered quietly, and Lily bit back a light chuckle.

      ‘I suggest we leave soon,’ Alessandro indicated. ‘We’ll have dinner, then return to my apartment to change in time to attend the after party at the hotel.’

      ‘An excellent idea,’ Sophia agreed, while Lily hid a degree of surprise.

      Not to mention the faint onset of nerves. Crazy, she dismissed. Except she didn’t want to experience the slight edginess his presence generated. Or the feeling he saw more than she felt comfortable with. For it was almost as if he could divine her mind … aware of the complexity of her thought process.

      None of which sat well as she faced the evening in his company. Except what other choice did she have?

      Alessandro chose an elegant restaurant full of belle epoque charm, which offered high quality fare Lily noted as she perused the menu.

      Instead of a main, she selected an exquisite pasta dish as an entree and opted for a light fruit confection for dessert.

      Intimate table seating ensured she was aware of the subtle tones of his exclusive cologne, the clean smell of fresh linen … dammit, him … the masculinity he exuded with effortless ease, the sensual electricity apparent and a heightened sexuality that was intensely male.

      Dangerous to her peace of mind, and other more intimate parts of her body.

      How could she feel this way … now, when a matter of

      weeks ago she had been planning her own wedding to someone else?

      It didn’t make sense. Nor did it seem conceivable for the teenage crush she’d once had on Alessandro to linger in her subconscious mind for years, only to re-emerge with disturbing clarity when confronted with his presence.

      Get over it, Lily bade silently.

      Her own vulnerability, a combination of anger and hurt provided a simple explanation … one she chose to accept on the grounds that anything else defied analysis.

      ‘Busy day, caro?’ Sophia queried, and Lily saw a warm smile curve Alessandro’s generous mouth.

      Doubtless wheeling and dealing multimillion-dollar takeovers formed part of his everyday life, Lily accorded silently.

      ‘You were successful in acquiring the villa,’ Sophia stated, and paused to take a sip of her wine before replacing the goblet on the table. ‘It is charming, but in a sad state of disrepair.’

      ‘But structurally sound,’ Alessandro advised. ‘I have a team of experienced craftsmen on standby to begin work as soon as the plans are approved.’

      ‘A