The Italian's Blushing Gardener (4 page)

‘Shouldn’t you be going, Stefano?’ she called, needing to draw his attention to the threatening sky.

He turned. ‘Anyone would think you were trying to get rid of me! I like this place, Kira. I want to see the rest of it.’

‘But it’s going to rain!’

He was unimpressed. ‘Get wet, get dry again. That’s my motto. I’m going to be living in this beautiful villa, so I should start thinking like a country person. Maybe I can learn to look on the trees as nature’s umbrella.’

Kira wasn’t sure if he was joking. She hated uncertainty, and followed him to find out. A growl of thunder prowled into the valley, which was something else she didn’t like. She stopped dead.

‘You’re going to walk around the grounds in this weather? You might get struck by lightning! Are you mad?’

He paused. ‘I’ve been called many things in my time, but never that!’ After another second’s thought, he started towards her as rapidly as the storm. As he
reached her side, he narrowed his eyes. ‘Are you scared? Is that it?’

‘Of course not,’ Kira said, raising her chin defiantly and determined to shadow him whatever the weather might throw at them. ‘Nothing scares me.’

He didn’t look convinced, but swung away across the terrace again.

‘Come on, then. I’ve seen enough of your landscape work from the upper floors to know that I want you to work for me,’ he announced, leaving her to run and catch him up. ‘After hearing about what you did for Sir Ivan, I’ve decided my town house in Florence needs a new designer. I want more greenery, and a roof garden. When you’re not busy with that, you can act as consultant to some inner-city work I’m funding. Currently, it lacks focus. Community projects have been successful elsewhere. Your input may be exactly what I need. I’ll want you to design something to appeal to everyone, and then organise working parties to—’

‘Wait!’ Kira tried to halt the imperious flow of instructions. ‘That all sounds good and important, but I can’t simply drop everything on your say-so!’

He stopped, as the sun went behind a cloud.

‘Why not?’ He stared at her, uncomprehending.

‘Because…I’ll have to consult my schedule,’ Kira replied with dignity. She decided that Stefano was clearly far too used to getting everything his own way. Still, a chance to design the roof garden for a no doubt exceptionally beautiful town house in Florence…

‘With the loss of the Bella Terra’s owner, you’re one client down. You’ve already said as much. I can fill that gap for you,’ Stefano announced affably. ‘You’ve already told me you hate canvassing for jobs and courting
publicity. I’ve seen what you can do, and I’m offering you a valuable, long-term contract working for me. Where’s the problem?’

The problem, Kira thought desperately, is you.

‘I’m not sure I want to work for you, Signor Albani,’ she said a little stiffly. ‘We’re so different. We might not get on.’

He trapped her gaze for a long time. ‘What you mean is, you’re afraid we might get on too well. And remember—my name is Stefano…’ he added with a tempting smile.

Kira stared at him. His self-confidence was astonishing, and yet somehow she could not bring herself to resent it. He could read her mind—how could she criticise him for that?

‘I appreciate your concerns, but you don’t have to worry,’ he went on. ‘I have so many properties and projects, my contractors are dealt with mainly by email and text. I wouldn’t be there in person to tempt you.’ With that, his smile came dangerously close to laughter.

Kira had to look away. His body wasn’t the only thing tempting her. She tried not to think of the begging letter, waiting for her on the table at home. There were so many calls on her slender finances. She needed money. The fabric of her house was so old there was always something that required repair. The security of a long-term contract appealed to her cautious nature. Her problem was, whenever she earned more than she actually needed she always felt bound to send any extra money back to England.

Her natural generosity might feel right, but she knew in her heart it was wrong. She would soon live to regret it, as she had done every single time in the past. What
she earned ought to be hers to keep. She tried to harden her heart. It was difficult, and that was why she was such an easy target. Emotional blackmail was an ugly thing. Kira knew a steady contract to work for a billionaire like Stefano Albani would be a perfect new start. With that security behind her, maybe she could manage to make a stand. It would give her some badly needed confidence, and she could make sure that anything she did for Stefano would be strictly on her own terms. Yes, of that she was certain.

Well…almost certain…

‘Your projects sound pretty interesting,’ she told him carefully. ‘When I get back home I’ll check my diary, and see if I can fit you in somewhere.’

He gave her a calculating look. Then he dug a hand into his pocket and drew something out. ‘Of course, I appreciate you can’t give me an answer straight away. Here—take my card. I’ll have my office draw up all the documents, and you can give them a call when you’ve come to a decision.’

His wallet was immaculate dark brown leather. The blue silk lining was no match for the intensity of his eyes as he pulled out a business card and handed it to her. Trying not to stare at it like a souvenir, Kira slid it into the pocket of her jeans.

‘Thank you. I’ll give it some serious thought.’

Lightning crackled. Kira braced herself, but the explosion of thunder still made her jump.

‘It’s getting closer.’ She looked up at the sky, and then across at the horizon. It was as dark as an overripe plum. ‘Are you sure you want to risk a tour of the estate in this weather, Stefano?’

‘It will be fine.’ He smiled. ‘Trust me.’

That was the last thing Kira ever did. People always used that phrase as casually as they said ‘to be honest.’

From that moment, she knew in her heart things would go wrong. She tensed, retreating into the role of observer as Stefano roamed around the formal gardens. Not content with admiring her work from the upper storeys of the house, he wanted information from ground level, too. He asked intelligent questions and paid her compliments about her work, but Kira could only let herself believe a fraction of his kind words. She moved uneasily under the shadow of his praise and flinched as the thunder grew closer. Finally, when they were at the furthest point of the tour, the rain began. Warm drops the size of pound coins darkened the dust, first in ones and twos, then in a downpour of tropical proportions.

‘We’ll head for there!’ Stefano shouted over the torrents of rain. He was pointing at her cottage. ‘It’s the only blot on my landscape. We might as well make use of it before my men clear it away.’

‘What?’ Kira shrieked, but her horror was drowned by thunder roaring right overhead. They dashed for the house, but as they got closer Stefano faltered at the sight of garden flowers spilling through the woven hazel fencing.

‘So someone lives here?’ he shouted over the downpour.

‘Yes—me!’ Kira raced past him and flung open the door of her little retreat.

Breathless and soaked, they tumbled into the house.

‘I didn’t realise this estate came with a tenant,’
Stefano said as Kira kicked off her sandals and padded, dripping and barefoot, into the kitchen.

‘It doesn’t. I own La Ritirata outright,’ Kira told him proudly as she returned, carrying a couple of hand towels.

‘I wasn’t aware of that. How much do you want for it?’ Stefano looked at her quizzically.

‘Oh, it’s not for sale!’ Kira laughed, running lightly up the wide stone stairs to fetch some larger towels from the airing cupboard. Stefano followed her for a few steps. Leaning back against the cream-painted stone wall, he looked up at her as she stood on the landing.

‘Of course it is. Everything is for sale at the right price. You could find yourself a nice little hideaway in this valley, well away from La Bella Terra. Then we could each pretend we were totally alone in the landscape.’

‘That’s the point. There are no other houses—not for miles. That’s partly why I love it here so much.’

‘You could build yourself another paradise anywhere, Kira!’ he went on. ‘I’ve seen the proof, remember. Go on—name a figure. Anything you want, and it’s yours.’

‘All right, then—a million pounds!’ Kira called down with a giggle.

‘Done. I’ll have my staff draw up the paperwork as soon as I get back to the office.’

Kira waited for him to laugh, but he didn’t. He was in deadly earnest.

‘You’re joking!’ she gasped. ‘This place isn’t worth a fraction of that sort of money!’

‘My peace of mind is beyond price,’ he announced.

Taken aback by the determination in his voice, Kira shook her head.

‘Well, you may not have been joking, but I was. My house means the world to me,’ she told him firmly. ‘No amount of money would tempt me to give it up. La Ritirata gives me what I’ve always wanted—independence and contentment. I’ve worked hard for my little home, and I feel safe here.’

A tremendous blast of thunder rattled the windows. Stefano smiled.

‘I notice you aren’t so nervous, now we are within your own four walls,’ he observed. ‘You’ve obviously made a real commitment to this place.’

‘I have.’ She nodded, glad he appeared to have accepted she wouldn’t be moving.

‘In that case, I can’t wait to benefit from the Bella Terra effect. I own a lot of investment properties around the globe, but I can’t honestly call any of them home. If I see a place with potential, I buy it,’ he told her, looking around her neat and compact little home appreciatively. ‘Yet none of my houses have ever developed the comfortable, lived-in feeling of this place.’

‘I spend as much time as I can here. Maybe that’s the secret of my success.’

‘It really works,’ he said as she started back down the stairs towards him, holding out a huge fluffy towel. ‘Living alone in a place like this, you must be as brave AND RESOURCEFUL AS YOU ARE TALENTED AND BEAUTIFUL.’

He reached out to her. As he took the towel from her hands, their fingers brushed against each other. His touch was light as an angel’s kiss, but it sent lightning coursing straight through Kira’s body. She gasped.
A thunderbolt crashed directly overhead, but neither noticed.

Stefano was looking deep into her eyes, and nothing else mattered.

T
HE
universe held its breath. Kira gazed at the gorgeous man standing just out of her reach. Her body ached to touch him. She could think of a million and one reasons why she should take that single step down into his arms. Only one thing stopped her. There was already a monumental mistake in her past. Kira was no longer the innocent girl she had once been, long ago and far away. She had forged a new life since then and almost learned to trust her instincts again, but she had never been faced by a choice like this before. Every fibre screamed at her to fall into Stefano’s arms. At the same time, every cruel word and accusation she had suffered in the past kept her nailed to the spot.

Stefano came up a step to join her. Taking the towel from her hands, he draped it over her head. Very gently, he began massaging her hair dry. His light, sure touches made Kira wonder how many other women he had treated in this way. It was impossible to know. That was the danger. She knew what powerful men were like. They acted with confidence, and never left any room for refusal. She had the horrible fear that once she was in his arms he would give her no time to think. It would be bed, and then treachery. It might take a day, a week
or a month before he deceived her, but the result would be the same. He would carry on as though nothing had happened. She would be totally crushed. It had happened to her once before, and Kira was not about to let herself become a victim again.

She put up her hands, shrinking back and trying to intercept his movements. His fingers closed over hers and gently pushed the towel back over her head. The clip securing her tumble of auburn hair fell away. It clattered down the staircase. Kira barely noticed. She was completely absorbed by the look in Stefano’s eyes as he drew the towel away from her hair. The appreciation she saw was all for her. She began to tremble, but now it was with anticipation, not fear. She had never known such a wild yearning before.

She swallowed hard. There was nothing in her mouth but the taste of temptation. His eyes levelled a steady, questioning gaze, willing Kira to read what she wanted in them. It was mesmerising, but she could not escape the feeling of being confined in her own home. To take a step forward would lead straight into his arms. Kira refused to repeat her mistakes, and the irresistible Stefano Albani showed all the signs of being a disaster waiting to happen—to her.

She couldn’t allow herself to fall under his spell.

‘This is dangerous,’ she said, forcing a laugh when he showed no sign of moving. ‘Didn’t you ever get told not to fool about on stairs?’

‘No. But then, if I had I wouldn’t be where I am today.’

Turning, he headed back down the stairs.

Kira was torn between relief and disappointment. When he walked away it was because he was unwilling
to open up about himself. They had that in common, she recognised. It gave her enough courage to follow him downstairs. Although unable to take that one momentous step into his arms, she did not want to lose touch with him altogether.

‘It’s still pouring out there, Stefano. Why don’t you stay for a coffee?’ she ventured.

He did not look at her. Instead, he went over to the open front door. There he stood with one hand on either side of the door frame. When he spoke, his voice was as light and careless as hers.

‘That would be great. And I meant what I said about wanting you to work for me.’

They might as well have still been discussing the weather. His attention was riveted on the curtains of rain rippling over her drenched and glittering garden.

‘And I’m equally determined to take my time over considering your offer,’ Kira said firmly, fixing him the macchiato he requested. She poured herself an identical drink, keen to keep a clear head while he was under her roof. ‘I need to know what strings are attached, Stefano.’

‘There won’t be any. I like to keep my affairs simple.’

He was still watching the rain. As Kira reached his side with the coffee, the downpour wavered and began to ease. A final flurry of thunder rattled away into the distance.

‘I like to keep my affairs completely separate from my work,’ she said, handing him his cup.

He was silhouetted against the doorway, surveying the land beyond her garden fence as though it was already part of his very own kingdom. At last he turned
his head and looked at her. A man who took control so naturally would never expect a woman to refuse him anything. That thought made Kira fizz with an illicit thrill. Stefano Albani might be about to buy the Bella Terra estate, but the power he had over her had nothing to do with territory. She felt the need for him growing within her. That desire was reflected in his beautiful blue eyes. His gaze was as tempting as evening sunshine. Kira knew she held the key to her own escape from solitude, and that made her powerful. She could choose to satisfy the cravings he was awakening in her body, or tighten her armour of self-reliance. The choice was hers and she was glad, but it disturbed her. It would be so easy to give in, right here and now. She was afraid that if she did, Stefano would turn out to be no better than the last man she had learned to trust.

Some dreams needed to be kept at arm’s length. That way they could last for as long as she wanted.

As she passed Stefano the coffee, his fingers made contact with hers again. It was only for a fraction of a second, but it would linger in her memory for the rest of her life. Their eyes met as he drained the small cup in one movement. Then he walked over and placed it on the coffee table.

‘The rain has stopped, so I must go. Thank you for being such a delightful hostess, Kira. I don’t like to mix women and work, but as you aren’t quite on my payroll yet…’

Before Kira knew what was happening she was in his arms. He took complete control as his body spoke for them both. His lips were cool and totally irresistible. She dissolved under the pressure, and he was there to catch her. Despite all her good intentions, she let herself
reach out to him. She delighted in the delicacy of the thin, smooth skin stretched taut over his finely drawn cheekbones. Her fingers ran through the silkiness of his dark hair as she drew him ever closer to her, hungry to experience every nuance of him. In response, his fingers stroked lightly over her bare arms, forming a prison she never wanted to escape. When he began to draw away, she instinctively tried to follow. Gently, he detached her arms from his neck. Holding her hands between his, he squeezed them lightly.

‘No. After what you have said to me today, Kira, I know you would never forgive yourself for mixing business with pleasure,’ he said, his expression carefully innocent, but a wicked sparkle in his eyes belying his words. ‘I’ll tell my staff to get a draft contract out to you as soon as possible. Until then, goodbye.’

Lifting his hand to his lips, he blew her one final kiss, and then strode right out of her house.

It was all Kira could do not to rush after him. Fighting every instinct, she forced herself to stay exactly where she was. She wanted go out and wave him off, but a man like Stefano would see that as his right. Women were probably doing it every day of the week. It would do him good to think there was one woman who didn’t keep him at the centre of her universe. The thought gave Kira a funny twist of pleasure, and she almost smiled. The racket his helicopter made as it roared into life was almost as hard to ignore as its pilot.

Kira only went out onto the veranda when the throbbing engine sound had dwindled away. Stefano’s helicopter was high in the sky, reduced to the size of a child’s toy. It made several slow circuits overhead like a bird of prey, and then headed off swiftly in the direction
of Florence. This time she really did allow herself to smile.

Kira had run from romance for years. After that first disastrous affair with Hugh, she vowed never to get entangled again. And now Stefano Albani breezed into her life, attacking the walls of her reserve. She told herself it didn’t matter, as the way she was feeling had nothing to do with love. Her heart was not involved. That meant there was no danger she could be hurt a second time. Her response to Stefano was on a purely physical level, and that was how she intended to keep it. He aroused her body to a pitch she had never before experienced. It was unprecedented, startling, but at least it was simple.

It was love that would complicate matters, and Kira had absolutely no intention of allowing that.

Stefano was a happy man as he flew back towards Florence. He hummed a snatch of Don Giovanni to himself, revelling in the comfort of his air-conditioned cockpit. The Bella Terra estate was what life was all about. That was why he worked so hard, and put up with all the long hours and pressure. His features sharpened with their usual hawklike intensity. Memory was a savage goad. Whatever he had to put up with, he could do it in luxurious surroundings waited on by dozens of staff. As a teenager he had heard English tourists talk of their villas in Tuscany and vowed he would live like them one day. Whatever they could do, he would do better. It had taken him nearly twenty years, but he had managed it. He was going to own the most beautiful valley in all Italy.

His blue eyes veiled. It contained the most beautiful woman in the country as well. The enigmatic Miss
Banks might well prove a bigger challenge than he had at first anticipated. Her failure to be swayed by his wealth or reputation made her unique, in his experience. A slow smile spread over his face the more he thought about her. Novelty wasn’t the only reason why she leapt into his mind. Kissing her senseless had kindled a need for her within his body. The temptation to carry on softening her resistance beneath his lips and hands had been difficult to resist. It had threatened to overcome him, but he had conquered it. There was no shortage of sex in Stefano’s life, but his reactions to Kira Banks felt somehow different. For once in his adult life, he was wondering less about her beautiful body, and more about the woman within.

He found himself wanting to see her again. That thought made him feel uneasy.

Miles away and far below, Kira shared his feelings. It had taken her so long to get over the horror that had been Hugh Taylor, she was determined never to be taken in by a man again. Yet Stefano Albani made her feel weak at the knees. And weak in the head, she told herself crossly, but it was impossible to think about him and frown. That was a revelation. Her only experience of men so far had ended in tears. Now, for the first time in years, a man was forcing her to reconsider. Stefano hadn’t made her cry. In fact, every time she thought about him, she smiled. That will have to stop, she told herself sternly.

Memories usually knocked all the daydreams out of her head. Thoughts about Stefano didn’t. Instead, she was filled with a wonderful warm feeling. It was such an unfamiliar sensation it took her a while to recognise
it as lust. Shy amusement engulfed her in a wave of embarrassment, but that vanished when she caught sight of the envelope lying on her table. Stefano had stroked all thoughts of it from her mind. She picked it up. Meeting him put this letter from her stepparents into perspective. If she could cope so well with a man like that, what was to stop her dealing with a call from home? Full of unusual optimism, she tore the envelope open. It was the usual tissue-lined affair, drenched in her stepmother’s trademark perfume. Unfolding the stiff sheet of handmade paper, Kira cut straight to the chase. Glancing at the foot of the letter, she read the words, ‘All our love, Henrietta and Charles.’

She scowled. That was all she needed to know. Her stepparents only sent her their love when they wanted money. If things were going well, they conveniently forgot about the girl who had disappointed them in every way, except in her capacity as a cash cow.

She scanned the rest of the copperplate handwriting. Mr and Mrs Banks weren’t stupid. They never came straight out with a request for cash. Hints were threaded through the glowing reports of their younger daughter Miranda’s success as an actress, and her new romance with a millionaire. Of course, this meant the Banks family wanted to entertain on a grand scale. Kira chuckled, imagining her stepmother circling Miranda’s boy-friend with canapés brought all the way from Fortnum and Mason. They were her preferred bait for a future son-in-law. The Bankses’ mortgage was unpaid and their house was falling apart. Despite that, the expensive perfume was still on draft and hopes of coming into money from somewhere or another were still high. Some things never changed.

Kira’s face fell again as she read the final paragraph of the letter: ‘When you ring each week, could you make it a little earlier? Six o’clock is such an inconvenient time as we’re nearly always on the way out.’

Their instructions usually made her feel nine years old again, but today was different. Stefano Albani was stronger than all Kira’s bad memories put together. Impulsively, she screwed up the letter and lobbed it towards the waste bin. It missed, but Kira was in good spirits as she got up to retrieve it. It was amazing what a little boost to the self-esteem could do.

And a kiss from Stefano Albani worked like rocket fuel.

Next day, Stefano’s legal team presented him with a contract for the landscaping and design work he wanted done on his town house in Florence. His PA scheduled a call for him, summoning Miss Kira Banks to his office. While Stefano held meetings, Kira was pushed to the back of his mind. However, the moment he pulled her file from his in-box to make the call, things changed. At the sight of her name, he paused. One look at the neatly printed contract catapulted her to the front of his consciousness again. This wasn’t some run-of-the-mill conquest. This was Miss Kira Banks, who had been funny and spiky and brought back powerful memories of the last time someone stood up to him. He found himself going back over every second of the previous day.

He inhaled deeply, bringing to mind the sweet lavender and lemon fragrance of her. She was perfumed by soap and fresh air. He spent a few moments revelling in her image. It was a mystery why she hid behind such a prickly attitude. He knew it was only a front. The
warm surrender of her body beneath his hands when he touched her assured him of that. Her reactions were perfect. It was her mind he needed to explore. That idea made him uncomfortable.