‘Don’t be impertinent. I pay you a fair wage. If you did better I might pay you more.’
‘It’s not my fault profits are low,’ she said indignantly. ‘I don’t think you’re buying enough of the right stock.’
‘And I don’t think you’re making a big enough effort,’ he said coldly.
In his anger he spoke with a raised voice.
Vittorio, a few feet away, heard him through the open door. He rose and headed for the shop, from where Rik’s grouchy voice could still be heard.
‘I’m not asking. I’m telling you to stay where you are so we can discuss these orders.’
‘No!’ Jackie said furiously.
Once before she’d agreed to this demand and it had stretched to two hours, without so much as a penny being added to her wages.
‘Now, look, Jackie—’
‘We can talk tomorrow,’ she said desperately.
Unable to bear any more, she fled blindly—and collided with a man entering through the front door. She began to fall, nearly taking him down with her.
‘I’m sorry—’ she gasped.
‘No, I’m sorry,’ Vittorio said, holding her firmly.
‘Come back here,’ Rik snapped, reaching out to take her arm in a fierce grip.
‘Let me go!’ she cried.
‘I’ll let you go when you do what you’re paid to do.’
The last word ended on a yelp that burst from him at the feel of Vittorio’s hand gripping his wrist.
‘Let her go,’ ordered Vittorio.
‘Who the hell do you think you are?’ Rik wailed.
‘I said let her go, and you’d better do so if you know what’s good for you.’ Vittorio’s voice was harsh and unrelenting.
Jackie felt Rik’s painful grip on her arm loosen, until she was able to free herself.
A glance back at Rik showed he was scowling. She hurried away, following Vittorio, who put his arm protectively around her.
‘Sorry about that,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to get you in trouble with your boss.’
‘Don’t blame yourself.’ She sighed. ‘He’s always like that.’
‘I’m afraid I tripped you.’
‘No, I tripped you. I wasn’t looking where I was going.’
‘But you stumbled. Are you sure you aren’t hurt? I thought you might have twisted your ankle.’
‘Just a little.’
‘You should sit down. Let’s go into the café.’
Once inside, he took her to a table in the corner, summoned the waiter and ordered coffee. When it was served he took a deep breath.
‘Signorina—’
‘My name’s Jacqueline Benton. People call me Jackie.’
‘Thank you—Jackie.’
‘You called me signorina. Are you Italian?’ She sounded hopeful.
‘Yes, my name is Vittorio.’
She seemed pleased at the discovery. Smiling, she offered her hand. ‘Buon giorno, Vittorio.’
‘Buon giorno, Jackie.’
‘I really thank you for what you did—rescuing me from Rik.’
‘He must be a nightmare to work for. But I guess you’re out of a job now.’
‘Probably not. You’re right—he is a nightmare. But things like that have happened before. He always apologises afterwards.’
‘He what? I find that hard to believe.’
‘So do I, in a way. But if I left it would be hard for him to find someone who’d put up with his horrible behaviour while knowing the place as well as I do.’
‘So he knows how to act for his own benefit?’ Vittorio said wryly.
‘Oh, yes. Mind you, I suppose you could say that of everyone. We all do what suits us, and we don’t really think about anyone else’s feelings.’
He knew an uneasy moment. Was it possible that she suspected the truth about his arrival?
But she was smiling pleasantly, and he told himself not to panic.
‘I find it hard to believe that of you,’ he said gently.
‘Oh, I can be selfish when it suits me.’ She gave him a cheeky smile. ‘You wouldn’t believe the lengths I go to just to get my own way.’
He smiled back, charmed by her impish humour.
‘I’ll believe whatever you care to tell me,’ he said. ‘But you don’t need to go to any great lengths. Just say what you want and I’ll take care of it.’
That could be quite a temptation, she thought, remembering what she had read on the astrology site.
The fates are planning a startling new beginning for you. The sun in Jupiter will bring things you never anticipated...
Certainly she hadn’t anticipated a charming, handsome man declaring himself at her service.
Watching her face, Vittorio managed to read her expression fairly well. He guessed she was trying decide how much fun they might have teasing each other.
And it might be really good fun, he thought. As well as humour there was a warmth in her eyes that tempted him to move closer.
‘Rik said a man was asking after my father,’ she said. ‘Was that you?’
‘Yes. I was sorry to hear that he was dead.’
‘Why are you looking for him?’
Vittorio hesitated, sensing the approach of danger. Suddenly he was reluctant to disturb the delightful atmosphere between them.
‘My own father knew him several years ago,’ he said carefully.
‘How did they meet? Did your father try to sell him some Italian goods for the shop?’
‘No, he wasn’t a salesman. He was Count Martelli.’
He waited for her to react with delight to hearing his status, as he was used to, but she only said ironically, ‘A count? You’re the son of a count? Are you kidding?’
‘No, I’m not. And, since my father has died, I am the Count.’
She burst into a delicious chuckle. ‘You must think I’m so gullible.’
‘Why don’t you believe me?’
‘Because my father never once mentioned knowing a count—or even admitted meeting one. I just can’t imagine that my father was ever friends with an aristocrat, not when we were so poor.’
‘Was he really poor? He managed to start his own business.’
‘He borrowed a lot of money to buy the shop. And it was a big mistake. He never really made the profit he needed, and we always lived on the edge of poverty.’
‘That must have been a very sad life for you,’ Vittorio said uneasily.
‘Not for me as much as for him. It destroyed his marriage to my mother. She left him for another man. For years Daddy and I had only each other. I adored him. He was a lovely man...sweet-natured, generous. I went to work in the shop, to help him. It wasn’t the life I’d planned—I’d dreamed of going to university. But I couldn’t abandon him. And in the end he was forced to sell. Rik beat him down on the price, but he offered me a job and let us go on living there. I did all I could for Daddy, but it wasn’t enough. A couple of years ago he had a heart attack.’
Vittorio dropped his head, staring at the floor. In his worst nightmares he’d never imagined anything as bad as this. If George Benton had received the money that should have been his everything would have been different for him. He might even be alive now.
What would she say when he told her?
He clenched his fists, trying to find the courage to do the right thing.
But his courage failed him, and to his relief the waiter appeared.
‘We’re about to close, sir.’
‘Then I guess we have to go,’ he said hurriedly, trying not to sound too relieved.
It was dark outside. He walked Jackie to the shop door and waited, wondering if she would invite him in. But she only said, ‘I’m glad we met. It w
as nice to have coffee.’
‘Yes, it was. Jackie...’ He hesitated, uncertain how to go on.
‘Yes?’
‘Nothing. Perhaps we can—see each other again. I’d like to talk.’
‘So would I. Tomorrow?’
‘I’ll look in.’
She went inside, locking the door behind her. For some moments Vittorio stood in silence, trying to come to a troubling decision.
He should have told her everything, but he knew the truth would hurt her greatly. He felt that in his heart, and flinched from striking that blow.
He’d planned every step of the way how he would confront George Benton, explain, apologise, and draw a line under it. Instead he found himself confronted with a woman whose sweetness and vulnerability touched his heart. And the truth was he didn’t know how to respond.
After standing there hopelessly for several minutes he turned and hurried away into the darkness.
Copyright © 2017 by Lucy Gordon
ISBN-13: 9781488015144
The Sheikh’s Pregnant Bride
First North American Publication 2017
Copyright © 2017 by Jessica Gilmore
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