Taming the Last AcostaItalian Boss, Proud Miss Prim

by Susan Stephens

  And when it was she who had everything to thank Antonia for...

  Katie’s heart went out to the teenager, who on the face of it appeared to have everything a girl of Antonia’s age could possibly want, but she suspected all Antonia really wanted was a little of her brother’s time.

  Time. That was what so many rich and successful people lacked, Katie mused, moving the faded curtain back to stare out of the window. They had none to spare when it came to those closest to them.

  ‘We are friends, aren’t we?’ Antonia had demanded fiercely when they parted. Whatever she thought of Antonia’s brother Katie had put to one side, promising Antonia they would be friends forever.

  After a rocky start it had been a good day, Katie reflected, turning back to look at her purchases spread out on the bed. Now her smile was one of disbelief. What on earth had possessed her? Antonia was the simple answer. Thanks to Rigo’s sister, it was goodbye brown, hello colour! And in the open-air market Katie had spotted a silk dress swinging on its hanger in the breeze. In a bright gypsy-rose print, it had long sleeves and a short, flirty skirt, and there was a sexy cut-out panel at the midriff—one of the few places where she could afford to show some skin. With the option of trying it on taken away from her, she hadn’t been able to resist. She had added a couple of tops and a shawl to her haul, as well as a pair of jeans—something she had never owned before.

  ‘And trainers,’ Antonia had insisted, determined that Katie should update her image. ‘For someone who is only twenty-five, you dress too old,’ she had commented with all the blunt assurance of a teenager.

  And that was me told, Katie reflected, smiling as she left the bedroom to enter her small ensuite bathroom. She had treated herself to some foam bath too. It was a cheap way to turn even the most basic of bathrooms into a better place. And now there was nothing more for her to do but soak and dream until she felt like ringing downstairs for Room Service.

  Bliss.

  * * *

  Now he remembered why it was so long since he had treated Antonia to dinner. Nothing was quite right for his teenage sister. Their table could have been better—it was too near the door. Their fellow diners were too stuffy—meaning most of them were over twenty-five and had brushed their hair before coming out. She sniffed everything that arrived at their table with suspicion as if three Michelin stars was no guarantee at all, and to top it off she ordered chips with ketchup on the side, leaving everything else on her plate.

  But his worst crime, apparently, was abandoning Katie in Rome on her first night in the eternal city.

  ‘Katie?’

  ‘Signorina Bannister insisted I call her Katie,’ his sister informed him smugly as he raised a brow.

  ‘May I remind you that Signorina Bannister is on a business trip and will shortly be returning home? She was invited to join us tonight, but she refused. And that’s an end of it, Antonia.’

  And might well have been, had he not felt his conscience prick.

  His sister lost no time in turning that scratch into an open wound. ‘Do you know where she’s staying?’ Antonia demanded with her customary dramatic emphasis. ‘How can you leave Katie in a place like that? Can you imagine what the restaurant is like?’

  Yes, he could, unfortunately.

  And so the rant went on until he couldn’t face another mouthful. Laying down his cutlery, he demanded, ‘What do you suggest I do, Antonia?’

  Antonia appeared to be studying the menu, and he imagined she was choosing a pudding until she exclaimed, ‘A picnic!’

  Before he could stop her she called a waiter over.

  ‘Take it to Katie—deliver it,’ she begged him, clutching his wrist in her excitement as the waiter hurried away with the order.

  ‘Don’t be so ridiculous—’

  ‘You don’t even have to see her—’

  ‘I have no time for this nonsense, Antonia,’ he snapped impatiently, shaking her off.

  ‘You never have time,’ she flared. ‘Katie gave me a whole afternoon of her time, which is more than you ever do.’ Her voice was rising and people were staring at the small drama as it unfolded. ‘Why can’t you do something different, for once?’

  ‘I do something different every day, Antonia. It’s called business. It’s what keeps you in the style to which you’re accustomed.’

  Thrusting back her chair, his sister took her performance to its ultimate conclusion: The Dramatic Exit. ‘Well, if you won’t take the picnic to Katie, I will,’ she declared, storming off.

  They had the attention of the whole restaurant now. As Antonia stalked away he stood up, politely murmuring an apology to those people closest to him. They should be glad of the free entertainment, he concluded as strangers exchanged knowing looks.

  He caught up with Antonia at the door. ‘Stop this, Antonia. You’re drawing attention to yourself—’

  ‘Oh, no!’ she gasped theatrically, clutching her chest.

  ‘I will not allow you to walk the streets of Rome alone at night—’

  ‘That’s why you must take the picnic to Katie.’

  The waiter chose this moment to bring out the hamper—to a touching soundtrack of Antonia’s inconsolable sobs. ‘Have you no shame?’ Rigo murmured, realising this was a ploy Antonia had contrived to get her own way.

  ‘None,’ his sister whispered back triumphantly.

  Pressing money into the man’s hand, he thanked him for his trouble. Then he escorted Antonia outside. Bringing out a handkerchief, he mopped her eyes. ‘Stop crying immediately,’ he insisted. ‘Acting or not, you know I cannot bear to see you cry. If you’re so concerned about Signorina Bannister’s diet, I will deliver this hamper. But not before I see you safely home.’

  He thought his voice had been quite stern, but he could have sworn there was a smile on Antonia’s face as he helped her into the car.

  * * *

  Katie had put on her new dress, and after examining it from every angle in the full-length mirror had reassured herself that everything she might want to hide was hidden. It was the perfect dress for the perfect night out in Rome. Not that she was going anywhere, but there was no limit to her dream. In fact the dream was so real she had put her shawl and bag on the bed, as if all she had to do was snatch them up last minute before leaving the room.

  In reality her skin prickled with apprehension just at the thought. She might be wearing her new dress, but she was frightened to leave the room wearing it.

  She performed an experimental twirl, loving the way the silk felt against her skin. There wasn’t room for much of a twirl, because the hotel room was very small. She had no complaints—it was functional and clean, which was all she needed.

  But Rome was waiting for her outside—and tomorrow she was going home...

  Moving back to the window, she stood a little to one side, staring out at the busy street scene far below. There was an open-topped tour bus that stopped right outside the hotel, and she could see people chatting to each other as they waited to board. Across the road was a family-oriented pizzeria with a neon sign. That looked fun too. Perhaps they would have room for one later...

  Stop, Katie told herself firmly, pressing back against the wall. It was one thing buying into the pretence of going out and something else when she started to believe it might happen. But pretending had been fun. She had even styled her hair a number of different ways—up and down—but she had forgotten how thick and glossy even boring brown hair could be when it was washed, conditioned and blown dry with more than her usual care and even for a fantasy night out she wouldn’t want to look too obvious. Her everyday style was safest, she had concluded. Over the years she had perfected the technique of brushing her hair straight back before twisting it tightly and securing it with a single tortoiseshell pin.

  But she wouldn’t change a thing about the dress,
Katie mused, smoothing her palms over the cool silk. She eased her neck, imagining Rigo at her side...or perhaps behind her with his hands resting on her shoulders. She would lean against him...relax against him, until he dipped his head and kissed her neck as he murmured that he loved her...

  She held the image in her heart for a moment, before opening her eyes and facing reality. Rigo was eating dinner with Antonia, after which he would go home to bed.

  Antonia had so much to give, Katie reflected, but her brother had no time to take anything from anyone, because Rigo was too busy driving forward...

  Rigo...

  Leaning back against the wall again, she closed her eyes. He would look like a god tonight. She imagined him wearing a dark tailored suit with a crisp white shirt and discreet gold cuff-links. The elegant look would show off his tan, his rugged strength and the power of his commanding personality. His hair would be freshly washed with thick, inky black waves lapping his brow and his cheekbones. He had the thickest, strongest hair she had ever seen, and though Rigo’s grooming would be impeccable he would still carry that air of danger that made him irresistible, and like a magnet he would draw the gaze of every person in the room.

  And she still wasn’t going out, Katie told herself bluntly, opening her eyes as she pulled away from the wall. And whichever way she looked at it dreams could never compete with the reality of Rigo.

  No, but dreams were safe, Katie’s sensible self reminded her. With dreams there were no complications, no embarrassing moments, no...

  Nothing.

  But...

  The mini-bar was full of chocolate, so it wasn’t all bad.

  * * *

  He’d taken Antonia home and then gone back to the penthouse to change into jeans and a casual shirt before setting off again to Katie Bannister’s hotel. He felt tense. Wishing-he-didn’t-have-to-do-this tense? Expectant tense? He couldn’t tell. He only knew they hadn’t got off to the best of starts and Katie Bannister was alone in Rome. He wanted her to relax. He wanted to relax.

  No, he didn’t, Rigo conceded as he shouldered open the door of the small, dingy hotel. Relaxing was the last thing on his mind. He didn’t have anything half so worthy in mind for Katie Bannister. His hunting instincts had brought him here. He couldn’t get her out of his head, the contradictions—the primness, weighed against the logo on a shopping bag from one of the sexiest lingerie stores in Rome. Her excuse that it belonged to Antonia was a lie. He’d driven Antonia home and unless his little sister had eaten the bag she certainly didn’t have it with her. Since then his imagination had dressed Signorina Bannister in lace and silk—which, bearing in mind he’d only seen her in an ugly brown suit before, had been quite a startling revelation.

  He approached the reception desk with his package and made his request.

  ‘Mi dispiace, I’m sorry, Signor Ruggiero, but there is no reply from Signorina Bannister’s room.’ The man behind the desk shrugged as he replaced the telephone receiver.

  He should have known he would be recognised. It couldn’t be helped. ‘Could Signorina Bannister be in your restaurant?’ He stared across into an uninviting and markedly empty dining room.

  ‘We have no reservations tonight, Signor Ruggiero.’

  No surprise there. ‘Her room number?’

  The man barely paused a beat—something to do with the money he had just pressed into his hand, no doubt, before telling him, ‘Room one hundred and ten, Signor Ruggiero.’

  * * *

  There was no answer when he knocked on the door. He used the house phone to ring the hotel kitchen and ask them to put Antonia’s picnic in their cold room. Someone would be up right away to collect it, he was told. He waited until the porter arrived, and then he returned to room one hundred and ten. Where would Katie Bannister go this time of night?

  He knocked and waited. He heard sounds from the room and knocked again.

  She answered the door cautiously, leaving the security lever in place.

  ‘How many times do I have to tell you I don’t bite?’

  ‘Rigo?’ Her voice rose at least an octave when she gasped his name.

  ‘Unless I have a double...’ He leaned back against the wall. The corridor was narrow and they were agreeably close. Signorina Prim’s sexy voice had done it again, he registered, enjoying the sensation.

  ‘What do you want?’ she whispered nervously through the gap.

  Admittedly this wasn’t the type of reception he had anticipated, or was used to, but then Katie Bannister wasn’t his usual type of date. ‘We had a dinner engagement, if you remember?’

  ‘I told you I’d be eating dinner in my room.’

  And he had chosen to ignore that. ‘You haven’t eaten yet?’ he said with surprise. ‘It’s nine o’clock.’ As if anyone in Rome ate before nine.

  ‘I didn’t say I haven’t eaten.’ She opened the door a little wider and bit her lip.

  She looked cute. ‘You didn’t say you have eaten,’ he pointed out. ‘Open the door, Katie. I can’t stand here all night.’

  The bar slid back and the door opened, but instead of standing to one side to let him in, she retreated into the shadows at the far end of the room.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘GOOD EVENING, SIGNORINA Bannister. I trust I find you well?’

  ‘Good evening, Rigo,’ she said shyly, remaining pressed back against the wall.

  ‘You look nice.’ He closed the door softly behind him. Nice? She looked beautiful, which raised a number of questions. But taking things at face value to begin with, he knew her taste in lingerie and had already dallied with erotic images, but seeing this new, softer side had unexpectedly brought out the best in him. Until his suspicions raced to the fore. ‘I beg your pardon for calling so late.’

  She glanced at her wristwatch.

  ‘And it seems you were going out?’ After refusing his dinner invitation, was it possible the waiter won her over?

  ‘I wasn’t going anywhere.’

  Was that a wistful note in her voice? ‘But the dress?’

  ‘I was just trying it on.’ Raising her chin, she looked at him steadily. ‘I bought it today. I don’t know what I was thinking—’

  ‘That it suited you?’ he suggested.

  ‘Do you really think so?’

  In that moment she was like a child, and as pleasure flashed across her face she touched his heart, something that hadn’t happened in a long time. ‘Yes, I do. You look great.’ Fragile, proud and womanly he didn’t say. Even her profile with her hair scraped back so tightly was delicately appealing.

  ‘I was going to return it—’

  ‘Don’t you dare—I mean, do as you like,’ he said casually as she looked at him in surprise. She wasn’t the only one to be surprised by the force of his reaction. ‘So...you’re not going out, but you’d like to?’

  ‘Not really...’ She made a little hand gesture. ‘I’m fine right here—’

  ‘But a dress like that is meant to be worn by a beautiful woman on a warm evening in Rome.’

  She all but said, that rules me out.

  ‘An evening just like this...’

  She laughed nervously as he gestured towards the mean little window. ‘It’s very kind of you, Rigo—’

  ‘I don’t do kind. I’m hungry.’

  ‘But you just ate with Antonia—’

  ‘Fiddly food?’ He dismissed the gourmet feast he’d enjoyed with an airy gesture. ‘And, as you can see—’ he ran a hand down his casual shirt and jeans ‘—I’m off-duty now.’

  She risked a laugh.

  ‘I’m thinking pizza—though Antonia sent a picnic for you, if you prefer?’

  ‘I love your sister!’ she exclaimed impulsively. ‘Only Antonia would think of a picnic.’

  He gave her a
wry look. He couldn’t deny Antonia held the record for delivering the unexpected, and doing it well. ‘The hotel has it in their cold room—but I’m thinking real Roman pizza.’

  He could see she was tempted.

  ‘I’d have to get changed.’

  ‘Into what?’

  Her warning look told him not to make light of this because she hadn’t made up her mind yet.

  ‘You’d have to leave the room while I get changed.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere. And you’re not getting changed. You’re fine as you are. Here, grab this.’ Snatching up a shawl from the bed, he tossed it to her.

  She caught it.

  ‘Now throw it round your shoulders and let’s get out of here.’

  He gave her no chance to change her mind. Opening the door, he ushered her through.

  * * *

  This wasn’t a walk on the wild side—it was absolute lunacy. The moment they left the hotel she felt naked. She never went out in a flimsy summer dress. To do so with Rigo made her feel more vulnerable than ever.

  And to think of all the things she could have done to get out of this—she could have played the tiredness card, the headache, the work to finish, the phone call to make, but instead she had fallen under Rigo’s spell. It didn’t help that he looked like a man from the pages of myth and legend. In casual clothes he was more aggressively virile than she had ever seen him and fitted perfectly into the template of ancient Rome. With his stern features and rugged, fighting form, he could have been a gladiator; the best.

  As Rigo eased his pace to accommodate her shorter stride Katie wondered how safe her heart was. As he glanced at her with eyes like back-lit emerald that promised all the danger she could take, she concluded it was her chastity she should be concerned about. Could she trust herself to behave?

  Did she want to behave?

  If she was ever going to experience lovemaking, wouldn’t it be better to do so under the tutelage of an expert?

  ‘I’m not moving too fast for you, am I?’