by Lucy Gordon
‘She had dozens of suitors,’ he said, ‘but she rejected them all. Legend says that she was a witch. It’s never been proved or disproved, but she inspired a lot of fear.’
‘Why did she reject them all?’ Jackie asked. ‘Didn’t she ever fall in love?’
‘Never. She had a great fortune and she believed that was all men wanted of her. She said no man could be trusted, nor was ever worthy of love.’
‘How sad to believe that,’ Jackie murmured. ‘How could anyone endure life with nothing to believe in?’
‘Is love the only thing to believe in?’ he asked wryly.
‘Of course there’s always money.’
‘But you don’t believe in that, having turned down so much.’
‘If you mean your million pounds, I turned it down for love—of my father.’ She saw tension come into his face and added, ‘There’s more than one kind of love.’
He hesitated before saying, ‘You’re right, of course.’
She went to stand before the woman’s picture, trying to see if her face revealed anything. But Lady Nanetta stared into the distance, concealing her secrets.
‘I wonder what taught her so much distrust?’ Jackie said.
‘She saw a lot of evidence to distrust in her life. She was hugely rich.’
‘Which was why so many men wanted to marry her?’
‘Probably. Of course they may have been attracted to her as well.’
‘I doubt that,’ Jackie said, studying the picture. ‘She was no beauty.’
Vittorio considered the picture before glancing back at her. ‘That matters little,’ he said. ‘A woman doesn’t have to be a great beauty to intrigue men. Her moods, her wit, the hint of mystery she can carry—those can lure men as keenly as mere good looks.’ After a thoughtful moment he added, ‘Sometimes more so.’
He was giving her a look that might have been significant. She tried to be cautious about understanding it, but there was a glint in his eye she couldn’t ignore.
She called common sense to her rescue. ‘If you say so,’ she said cheerfully.
‘I do say so.’
‘Then I’ll have to believe it—however unconvincing.’
He chuckled and put his arm around her. ‘Let’s get going—we have a busy day ahead of us,’ said Vittorio. ‘But first we’ll have breakfast.’
They ate quickly, and when breakfast was over he led Jackie out of the palace to a garage around the side. He regarded her curiously as she took out her purse and examined its contents.
‘Need some money?’ he asked.
‘No. Thank you, but I’m quite independent. I can use my bank card to draw money from my English account, can’t I?’
‘If you’ve got the pin number, yes.’
In a few moments they were on their way to Rome.
‘What are we going to see first?’ she asked.
‘My department store. I need to see how it’s managing. And I’ll be interested in your opinion. After that, I’d like to show you some of the city.’
At first the road wound through the estate, and Jackie watched from the window, charmed by the green fields and forests, until finally the estate was behind them and they were heading along the motorway that led to the city.
Once in Rome, Vittorio drove straight to an area where there were shops, restaurants and commercial buildings. He parked the car and led her through the streets, letting her absorb the atmosphere until it was time to visit his department store.
It was a huge place, selling goods from many different countries and a vast range of sources. There were departments for furniture, glass, hardware and jewellery.
Jackie walked through it in a daze of delight. Everywhere Vittorio introduced her to the staff as ‘my expert from England’. In the glass and china department he explained that she was to be in charge, and she was treated with great respect.
When he was called away for a moment the staff crowded round her, full of eager questions. Their English was efficient, as was her Italian.
‘There are some products I’d like to show you,’ she said. ‘I’ll need a computer.’
One was immediately made available, and she went online to show them the many sites where she found products that made them exclaim with admiration. It was clear that her visit was a success.
At last she looked up to find Vittorio regarding her with amused satisfaction.
‘Found me any new stock?’ he asked.
‘One or two things I think might go well.’
She indicated several choices. He nodded in agreement to all of them, and a staff member began making purchases.
‘We’ll leave him to it while we look around some more,’ Vittorio said. When they were outside he said, ‘I wish you could have seen your face while you were giving everyone instructions. I think that’s your idea of heaven.’
‘If you mean that I’m a bully—’
‘Only the kind of bully that I need working for me,’ he said with a grin. ‘You promised to make profit for me, and I can see that you will. Well done!’
‘Thank you. After all, you did promise me authority.’
‘I must have known by instinct that authority is your default position.’
‘You might have a point there,’ she said with a brief laugh. ‘I must admit I do enjoy being the one to give the orders.’
‘After the way you had to put up with Rik, I’m not surprised.’
‘Not just Rik. I used to annoy my father a lot by arguing.’ She regarded him cheekily. ‘I’m a very difficult character.’
‘Well, I already knew that.’ He took her hand in his and gave it a comforting squeeze. ‘I can put up with you if you can put up with me.’
She squeezed back. ‘I’ll do my best—however hard it is.’
‘I’ve got a feeling we’re going to be a big success.’
Coming to Italy was proving to be everything she had dared to hope, thought Jackie. Here there were opportunities and a chance for the kind of new, more adventurous life that had once seemed impossible.
Suddenly she stopped.
‘I didn’t realise that your store stocked clothes.’
‘Of course—it’s our most popular department. Come and look.’
Jackie was soon in heaven! Vittorio introduced her to the staff and she watched, entranced, as boxes were opened to reveal costly gowns. She examined them, trying to imagine her dull self in any of the exquisite dresses.
‘Perhaps—’ she began, turning to Vittorio. ‘Oh, where’s he gone?’
‘He was summoned to his office,’ said Donna, the head assistant. ‘Do you like our stock?
‘Oh, yes, it’s all so beautiful. Especially this one.’ She gazed admiringly at a black satin evening gown.
‘Yes, it’s one of our new range. Would you like to try it on?’
‘I’m not sure... It looks very sophisticated, and I’m not really like that.’
‘But you might be if you saw yourself in it.’
‘Oh, go on, then—let’s try.’
Donna’s advice was good. The dress was tight-fitting, and clung perfectly to Jackie’s slender figure, giving it a drama and mystery she’d never been aware of before.
She turned back and forth, enjoying the sight of her new self in the mirror. Totally absorbed, she failed to notice the middle-aged woman who had arrived, and was watching her with pleasure.
‘Is that dress for sale?’ the woman asked Donna.
‘Yes, Contessa. It’s part of the stock that’s just arrived.’
‘It would suit my daughter perfectly. I’ll buy it.’ The shopper turned to the man who had just appeared beside her. ‘You’re really extending your talents in this store. Doesn’t your model look lovely?’
�
��Yes,’ Vittorio murmured, ‘she does.’
He backed away quickly before Jackie could notice him. After a moment the Countess joined him. She was beaming.
‘Now you have a satisfied customer,’ she said. ‘That dress looked so good on your model that I just had to buy it. Donna says it can be delivered tomorrow.’
He replied politely and escorted her away, before returning to the dress department. Jackie was still there, once more in her own clothes. For a moment Vittorio had a dizzying sensation that briefly she had become a different Jackie.
‘It’s time to move on, Jackie. We have a lot to fit in today.’
‘Oh, that’s a shame. I’ve had an amazing morning, and your store is magnificent.’
‘No, no,’ he said quickly. ‘You mustn’t say that. You’re going to tell me how to bring it up to standard.’
‘Suppose I think I can’t?’
‘Hush, don’t say such a thing. Never admit failure.’ He gave her a cheeky grin. ‘You’re here as an expert, giving me your lofty advice.’
‘And you’ll take my advice? I don’t think so.’
‘Then you can call me some suitable names. Stupido, idiota, buffone. You understand Italian well enough to take your pick.’
‘I’ll try to remember. Where to next, then?’
‘I’d like to take you to my other shop. This one is much smaller. It could do with expansion, and I’d value your opinion.’
CHAPTER SIX
A SHORT STROLL brought them to the ‘other shop’, which she examined with interest, making notes. She was enjoying herself.
After a couple of hours they left.
Wherever they went Vittorio was instantly recognised. Even in the street people addressed him respectfully as ‘Signor Conte’, and regarded her with curiosity.
She could guess why she fascinated them. Word of her arrival had obviously spread fast, and she was clearly being regarded as the latest candidate for the position of Countess.
Me, she thought hilariously. Plain, dreary me. Whatever next?
‘What’s so funny?’ Vittorio asked.
‘Sorry—what?’
‘You suddenly started laughing. People don’t usually find Rome funny.’
‘It’s not Rome that’s funny. It’s me. Haven’t you seen the way everybody is staring at me?’
‘Sure—you’ve really got their attention.’
‘And why? For the same reason Marisa is troubled by me. I’m seen as the latest candidate for your hand.’
‘And that’s funny, is it?’
‘It is from the proper angle. Look.’
She pointed him towards the window of a shop they were passing. Turning, they looked at their reflections: Vittorio splendidly handsome, herself ordinary.
‘Ever since the moment I came here,’ she said, ‘I’ve felt like Cinderella arriving at the ball.’
‘Really? Does that make me Prince Charming?’
‘Prince Charming or Prince Charmless. It depends on your mood.’
‘You don’t pull your punches, do you? Are you trying to lure me in or put me off?’
‘What do you think?’
‘I think you’re trying to scare the life out of me. And succeeding.’
‘That’s all right, then. As long as you don’t think I’m trying to lure you into marriage.’
‘I promise never to think that.’
Vittorio wondered what he should have understood from her words. If she ever did set her sights on him he doubted he’d guess. She was too clever to be obvious. But the conversation had amused him too much to be troublesome.
‘I’d better go into the bank while I’m here,’ he said. ‘The one across the road is the one I use.’
Inside the bank, she saw him treated with the same intense respect she had noticed before—which she guessed told her everything about the size of his bank balance.
‘It would be easier if you banked here also, since you’ll be living and working in Italy from now on,’ he said. ‘Tell them you want to transfer your London account.’ He added lightly, ‘Unless, of course, you’re planning to dash back to the joys of working for Rik.’
‘No chance!’
‘Wise woman.’
He came to the counter with her and spoke in rapid Italian.
‘There’ll be bank cards for you in a couple of days,’ he said at last. ‘And now it’s time for some lunch at last. This way.’
He led her to a little restaurant on the next corner.
As she looked through the menu he said, ‘What would you like?’
‘I don’t know; I can’t decide. I’ll let you order for me.’
He regarded her with amused suspicion. ‘You trust me to order for you? That’s not like the Jackie I’ve come to know. Are you trying to catch me off-guard?’
‘Well, I’ve got to do something to worry you, haven’t I?’
‘Don’t bother. You worry me quite enough as it is.’
‘In that case, please do your duty and order for me.’
He instructed the waitress, and in a few minutes a dish was set before her. It was a bowl filled with tiny lumps of meat and a few vegetables.
‘It’s called lamb tagliata,’ he said. ‘I remembered that you like lamb.’
‘But that was the lunch we had in the hotel in London,’ she said, astonished. ‘You remembered from then?’
‘Of course. I’m a businessman. I make efficient notes about my business associates and use them to my advantage.’
But he winked as he said it, and gave her a grin which she returned.
The food tasted magnificent. She devoured it with pleasure, aware that he was watching her closely.
‘Mmm...lovely,’ she said. ‘You choose food well. I must put that in my own notes about you—along with a few other things.’
He nodded, implying that he understood her perfectly. ‘Of course,’ he said, ‘my observations will have to include how careless you are about doing your job.’
‘What?’
‘You were supposed to be giving me an expert opinion of my store. So far all you’ve done is eat. I want to lodge a complaint.’
‘I said it was magnificent!’
‘But you were just being polite.’
‘I’m never polite. Haven’t you learned that yet? Hmm... I’ll have to give you a few lessons.’
‘I’ll look forward to it. But, in the meantime, you didn’t really mean magnificent, did you?’
‘Suppose I say yes? Would that make me disappointing?’
‘Come on, Jackie. Criticise. It’s what you’re here for.’
‘Well, I did notice one thing missing. You have a huge range of things from all over the world, but I saw nothing from England.’
‘That’s because we’ve never had any real English expertise—until now. I did the right thing, kidnapping you.’
‘You didn’t exactly kidnap me,’ she insisted. ‘I wanted to come.’
‘Suppose you hadn’t? Do you think that would have made any difference?’
‘No, I guess not.’
‘You did a great job in the shop—especially when you modelled that dress.’
‘Modelled—? You saw me?’
‘Yes, I keep turning up when I’m not wanted, don’t I? I was there with Contessa Valierse. She liked the sight of you so much she bought the dress for her daughter. I seem to gain from everything you do. As soon as I realised that, I decided that you must belong to me.’
‘And if I resist?’ she teased.
‘It won’t make any difference. When an efficient businessman finds something that suits him he takes possession of it, ignoring all distractions.’
‘And you think nobody can successfully fight
you?’
‘That’s right. I always get my own way. Make a special note of that.’
‘Yes, I think I will.’ She took out a scrap of paper, then discovered a problem.
‘Damn! I haven’t got a pen.’
‘Here.’ He handed her a pen.
‘I wonder if I should accept that...’ she mused.
‘You mean because you’re about to write something critical about me? Go on. Be brave.’
‘Thanks.’ She took it and scribbled, He always gets his own way, adding a little swirl afterwards.
‘What’s that squiggle at the end?’ Vittorio asked.
‘It’s code. It means, That’s what he thinks.’ Jackie chuckled.
‘Hmm... At least you’re honest.’
‘Well, I’m not sure you get your own way as much as you think you do.’
‘You will be. In time.’
Despite the seemingly harsh words, the atmosphere was teasing and friendly.
‘Of course it doesn’t do for a guy to be too self-confident around you,’ he said. ‘He’d pay a heavy price.’
‘Or I would,’ she said wryly.
He considered her. ‘Is that the voice of experience?’
‘There was a man I was once fond off. Just fond. His name was Peter. I wasn’t passionately in love, but when he mentioned marriage I was interested.’
‘What went wrong?’
‘My father became ill. I was looking after him and Peter didn’t like that. It made him feel that he came second.’
‘Did he come second?’
‘Yes, I suppose he did. He wanted me to put Daddy in a care home, but I couldn’t do that. It would have broken his heart.’
‘And Peter was angry about that?’
‘We had a quarrel. I told him that he couldn’t give me orders and that was that. In my admittedly limited experience I’ve discovered that men like to be in charge.’
‘Surely that isn’t aimed at me? You have as much control as I do.’
‘Not as much. Maybe a bit.’
‘We’ll agree to disagree. So you sent him away with a flea in his ear?’
‘Yes. He couldn’t believe I meant it, but I wasn’t going to change my mind. How about you? Have you never been tempted to settle down with any of the beautiful women who seem to throw themselves at you at any given opportunity?’
