furiously, Meg opened her mouth to protest at his joke but Gianni waved her worries aside.
‘Don’t disagree with me, Meg. I don’t have time for any of this “English reserve” nonsense. Diffidence never won any sales.’ All the time he was speaking, Gianni was casting an eye around the ballroom. He was the perfect host to his fingertips. Although concentrating on his guests, he noticed something the moment he began guiding Meg onto the dance floor.
‘It’s good to know you haven’t been trampling all over my clients’ feet. Not many girls can dance as well as you, Meg.’
Remembering his earlier words, she accepted the compliment gracefully. ‘Thank you, Gianni. It’s a useful social skill.’
‘And you have plenty of those. Thank you for being such a help to me this evening.’ He stopped studying his guests and looked down at her. His smile was too calculating to warm his eyes, but she couldn’t help reacting. Warmth flowed through her limbs like melting chocolate, slow and sweet. All the compliments she had been given about her work in the kitchen garden finally made sense. Gianni appreciated her efforts. His guests liked her work. They couldn’t all be saying nice things simply to be polite. They must mean them. All the compliments on top of two glasses of champagne made it a night for bravery.
‘It’s all an act,’ she admitted.
‘Mai!’ he laughed. ‘I don’t believe you. For instance, if I were to take you in my arms properly, and sweep you across the floor like this—’
With one bold movement he drew her into his body and propelled her towards the centre of the room. Other dancers melted away before them. Breathless with amazement, Meg was carried along by his expertise, held as though she were precious porcelain. Her beautiful new gown shimmered like a peacock’s feathers in the glow of a thousand candles. Caught up in the moment, she looked up into his eyes and saw the chandeliers were reflected in the darkness of his eyes, too.
‘Gianni…I never thought anything could feel like this…’ she gasped. His smile broadened. Meg knew instinctively she had said the wrong thing. This was Gianni Bellini. His silence had led to her spilling her soul in his office. Now his firm grasp and sure footsteps were dancing her into more danger. Her mind whirled in waltz-time. Only silence could have saved her. Telling him how she felt had only confirmed his already high opinion of himself as a ladykiller. She had played right into his hands. Hating herself for melting so completely against his body, Meg still could not stop. His touch was light but so assured she was powerless to resist. While his left hand clasped hers, the fingers of his right hand spread out in a protective cage across her back. He kept up the pressure, her breasts held secure against the broad expanse of his chest as they made turn after turn around the room. Meg shone in his arms, shown to her best advantage as she followed his lead. When the final strains of Strauss died away, Meg felt her face fall with disappointment. Then the applause began. Looking around with the confusion of a sleepwalker, she realised everyone was clapping—including Gianni.
‘Ladies and gentlemen: I give you the best qualified, the most nimble and the most beautiful head gardener in the history of horticulture!’ he announced.
Meg threw her hands up to her face, trying to cover her embarrassment. The crowd cooed its approval, and Gianni reached out to her. Meg looked at him with shining eyes. All he did was pat her shoulder in a parting gesture.
‘There—I said you could cope with anything!’ he said with a wink as his adoring crowd absorbed him again.
‘Gianni—’ Meg began, but it was hopeless. He had moved on. Guests began reclaiming the dance floor. Soon she was enveloped by a tide of couples. They all smiled and nodded knowingly at her, as though she were a marked woman from that moment on. As the band played on Meg forced herself to walk steadily away from the dance floor, head held high. Gianni might have taken her to paradise, but she could not afford to have her head in the clouds. No good ever came of mixing work with pleasure. As a student her studies had faltered when she had allowed Gavin to distract her. She was not going to make the same mistake again. She couldn’t afford to—in any sense of the word. This was the best job anyone in her position could wish for. And it has the best employer too, she thought wistfully, before she could think of a more politically correct reason. I can’t afford to mess up this one chance of making a success in a job that really matters to me.
The rest of Meg’s evening passed in an agony of suspense. Simmering with the promise Gianni had shown her, she was petrified the guests might notice something. She felt feverish. Catching sight of a reflection in one of the huge antique mirrors set around the summer dining hall, it was a few seconds before she recognised herself. She was used to seeing a dowdy little country mouse peering back at her. Tonight she saw quite a different creature. Her new dress and high heels made her look tall and sleek, but they were only window dressing. Meg had blossomed to complement their designer chic. Her eyes were large and luminous, her cheeks flushed and her hair coiled around her shoulders with a life of its own.
Gianni looked as though he didn’t have a care in the world. Cool and composed, he was totally absorbed by his guests. None of them was in any hurry to leave such a brilliant gathering, and he showed no signs of evicting them. Brought to fever pitch and now abandoned, Meg grew increasingly restless. Finally, she couldn’t stand it any longer. If he was so busy with his guests, he obviously wasn’t that bothered about her. In a flurry of indignation she set off towards the door. She had taken no more than three determined steps when Gianni appeared from nowhere and put a hand on her arm.
‘And where do you think you’re going, mio tesoro?’
His dark brows were raised. No answer was needed. The touch of his fingers on her sleeve was light, but inescapable. ‘None of my staff leaves before I dismiss them personally. Your time has not yet come, Megan. You are going to show me around your famous greenhouses, remember?’
She hesitated, not knowing what to think. How could he talk about work when he must know how her mind, body and soul ached for his touch?
‘If you insist,’ she said, but any attempt at dignity was completely foiled by what Gianni did next. His fingers closed on her. Then he slid his hand down her arm until he could grip her hand. He held it for half a heartbeat. In those blissful seconds she was touched by unmistakeable promise, and then released. This was going to be no ordinary meeting between employer and employee.
Gianni took his time in saying goodnight to his guests. He knew he could afford to. Megan Imsey was so hot for him. He wanted to savour the sweet anticipation of her supple little body for as long as possible. As the crowds thinned he began dismissing his staff. Finally, when the night shift moved in to clear away the remains of the dinner, Gianni strolled over to one of the refreshment tables. There he poured two espressos. Meg had been shadowing him closer by the minute. Turning, he held one cup of coffee out to her. The look on her face told him all he wanted to know. Sleeping with her was simply a matter of time. It was entirely up to him when, where and how. That feeling of power was unbeatable. His body hardened with delight, and he smiled. Megan was a smart girl. He had absolutely no doubt she would agree to his terms. He foresaw no trouble at all. Hadn’t she told him on her first day that she was only interested in getting paid? That direct approach deserved respect, of a sort. Gianni knew exactly where he stood with women like that. His mother had been a good teacher in that way.
Meg would be all over him from the moment he made his move. Women always were, but the divine Miss Imsey represented something a little different. He watched her concentrating on her tiny cup of coffee. If he hadn’t been so practised in the art of seduction he would have thought she was shy. Instead, he identified only the sly upward glances of an experienced seductress, and sighed. Women never gave him a moment’s peace. The only respite he’d ever had in the presence of a beautiful woman was Meg’s excitement when she talked about those blasted greenhouses. She was as bad as his father had been in that respect. Gianni felt many emotions when thinking about his late father, but pity was the only one he could put into words. He had spent too much time trying to avoid his father’s fate to feel anything more. He played the field, determined never to risk falling in love with a woman. Love had driven the old