‘Where are you taking me now?’ she asked him as they headed back towards the helicopter.
‘That depends on whether you’re prepared to call a truce or not,’ he teased her, drawing her along by the hand, wondering if he had ever felt quite so relaxed or so happy with a woman. ‘Personally, I think you owe me for showing you around.’ His face relaxed in a smile as he stared down at her.
She met his gaze and smiled. ‘I’m not sure I’m quite in the same league as you, Roman. I don’t have a helicopter to whisk you away, or a multimillion-pound facility to blow your mind.’
‘How about a return trip to Skavanga?’
‘Are you serious?’ The smile died and was replaced by something far more touching.
‘Never more so,’ he said.
‘Then it’s a date,’ she said, brightening at once.
There weren’t many women who could persuade him to change his plans. Eva could, because he wanted to please her. But he still wasn’t sure he could break the habit of a lifetime and learn to feel again, so for Eva’s sake he had decided on a delaying tactic he thought she might enjoy before they made the trip to Skavanga. ‘We’re going somewhere else first.’
‘Where?’ she asked him when they reached the helicopter.
‘Get in and I’ll tell you.’
‘Roman?’ she prompted while he was buckling her in.
‘Close.’ His lips curved in a smile as he settled the headphones on her head. ‘We’re going to Rome.’
She looked at him. ‘Why not Rome?’ He shrugged, stood back and closed her door.
‘Explain,’ she demanded through the headphones the instant they were in the air.
‘I have an apartment in Rome.’
‘Of course you do.’ She sighed with resignation.
‘It’s a city apartment and I think you’ll like it.’
‘But all my clothes are at the palazzo.’
One rucksack and a heavy parka? ‘So we’ll buy some more.’
‘Life is always so simple for you.’ She didn’t sound pleased. ‘And no. We will not buy some more clothes for me. What do you think I am?’
‘A small shareholder in the mining company I’ve invested in. Just call it an advance on your next dividend.’
That silenced her—for around ten seconds. ‘That sounds very confident.’
‘I’m a very confident man, Signorina Skavanga.’
‘I noticed,’ she murmured beneath her breath.
* * *
This was amazing, Eva thought as Roman led her through the grand entrance into a tiled courtyard of what had to be one of the most magnificent buildings in Rome. To describe this as a city apartment hardly did it justice. If there was one thing she had noticed about billionaires—bearing in mind she only knew one—it was that they were masters of understatement. And they certainly knew how to rack up the miles. Distance meant nothing to them. Hotels were redundant. Roman appeared to have a home in every worthwhile stopping off point in the world.
And Rome was definitely worthwhile, Eva reflected, marvelling at the grandiose surroundings as the cool of plaster walls and marble floors soothed her heated senses. Roman had pointed out all the unbelievably well preserved historical sites as they were driven from the airport to the city. To see ancient buildings co-existing next to very modern structures was astonishing. The modern city of Rome had been built around artefacts that left history intact as a lasting reminder that everyone carried a legacy from the past. The Coliseum was so much bigger than she had imagined, and infinitely more menacing, while the Vatican City with its stunning rococo architecture was breath-taking. Roman had asked their driver to stop at the Trevi Fountain, where he had pointed out the statue of Oceanus, god of all the waters, who gazed out sternly from his horse-drawn shell chariot, which was guarded by conch shell blowing tritons.
‘It’s magnificent...’
‘You’ll have to come back here one day,’ Roman had teased her when they got out of the car to take a closer look. She had stood gaping like the country bumpkin she was. And then he had pressed a coin into her hand, and when she had asked him what it was for he’d told her to toss it over her shoulder into the water, and she would come back... She’d laughed, but she did as he said. Hearing the coin splash into the water had made her think about all the other wishes it was joining. Had any of them come true? she had wondered.
‘Eva?’
‘Sorry.’ She shook herself round, realising Roman was waiting for her to cross the shady courtyard and join him.
‘The security is for the Italian president, not me,’ he murmured discreetly when she gazed at the security guards in their dark suits and dark glasses. ‘We share the same building,’ he explained.
‘Of course you do,’ she said wryly. ‘No. Seriously,’ she added, teasing him with what was fast becoming their catchphrase, ‘I believe you.’ They both laughed.
‘Would you like to go out for supper tonight?’ Roman asked as he ushered her in through an ancient ornate door.
She clocked the butler in his dark, beautifully tailored dark suit, who had appeared seemingly out of nowhere to open the door for them, and who now faded into the background, as if he worked on astral orders rather than spoken instruction.
‘Eva?’
‘Sorry.’ She shook her head in an attempt to shake herself round from all the surprises. ‘I was distracted.’
‘I was just saying—or would you prefer to stay in?’
‘Oh, go out,’ she said quickly, and then blushed, realising how naive she must sound to him, but she longed to see something of the city while she was here. And also, after her last disaster in the bedroom, staying in seemed by far the riskier choice.
‘Let’s say, we’ll meet in an hour,’ Roman said with easy charm, glancing at his watch. ‘If you need me you can reach me on the internal phone. My number’s one.’
‘No. Seriously?’
She got the killer smile for that.
‘At least it’s easy to remember,’ she said, tongue in cheek.
A housekeeper in a dark uniform took over from Roman to show Eva the way to her fabulous suite of rooms. There were high ceilings, gracious furnishings and beautiful mouldings on the pale silk-covered walls. All the many fascinating architectural details had been renovated with respect and skill. The quality of everything was unsurpassed. Even the air seemed to hold a particular scent. Money, she thought, reverently running her fingertips across a gilded console table. On the top of the table was a single turquoise vase. White roses had been arranged in this together with fragrant spikes of lavender. The scent was indescribably lovely. She could scorn such extreme wealth all she liked, but Roman’s money would save Skavanga, just as it had allowed him to restore this historic building. Perhaps she needed to rethink her beliefs a little. She was beginning to wonder if some of her less worthy campaigns hadn’t been an escape from her insecurities, and a chance to expend some of her frustrated sexual energy.
Having examined every inch of the sitting room overlooking one of Rome’s most impressive squares, and then her equally lavish bedroom, bathroom and dressing room, she kicked off her shoes and threw herself down on the vast bed. But there was no time to bask in these fabulous surroundings. She must be ready to go out and explore Rome in less than an hour. Explore Rome with Roman. That was as perfect as it got.
She took a bath in the gloriously restored bathroom, where the best technology and efficient plumbing existed happily side by side with stained-glass windows and marble pillars. She could have basked in warm suds all night, but shot up hearing a knock on the door. It definitely wasn’t Roman. His rap was unmistakeable and this was a polite knock.
Wrapped in a robe with her hair in a towel, she opened the door. The landing was deserted, and it was only when she turned back to the room that she saw the go
wn rail packed with the most amazing clothes. This was flanked by a line of carrier bags from possibly every exclusive store in Rome. Closing the door, she went to investigate and found handbags, underwear, shoes, shawls, and—
‘Roman Quisvada, come here this minute,’ she blasted down the phone. ‘No, I won’t take no for an answer. How did you guess I wasn’t going to accept your largesse? Don’t you know me yet? You’re sure I must like something? If you want to take me to supper, you can take me as I come or not at all.’
‘Is that a promise?’ he drawled.
‘You—’ She growled at the silent receiver in her hand. Roman was on his way to ‘help her pick out an outfit’, apparently. That should go well!
* * *
A sense of anticipation gripped him as he approached Eva’s suite of rooms. It was useless telling himself this was wrong, and that she was a baby and he was not. A fiery baby, maybe, but an innocent one, none the less.
So why was he taking the stairs two at a time?
Because he wanted her and she wanted him. Why complicate things?
He knocked on the door. She swung it wide. ‘Problem?’ he said, walking in.
‘This,’ she said, gesturing at the gown rail. ‘An advance on my dividend? Do you know how small my personal investment in the mine is? I’ll never be able to pay you back for all this.’
‘So don’t keep all of them. Choose one.’
‘Even one of these outfits would take me a decade of dividends to pay off. And what’s wrong with what I’m wearing?’ she said, indicating her jeans. ‘Or are you ashamed to be seen with me?’
‘Not at all. I don’t even know what makes you think that. I just thought it would be nice for you to have some clothes to choose from.’
And he was right. It was better than nice. Did she have to throw every gesture back in his face? ‘I just feel awkward,’ she admitted. ‘I’m not used to all this fuss. It was very thoughtful of you, but it’s too much.’
‘I’m just trying to save time. Stop ranting and start dressing is my advice, or we’ll lose our table.’
‘I hardly think that’s likely.’ Bearing in mind who had booked that table, but she was hungry, and—
‘Look, Eva. If you’re so worried about paying me back, why don’t you come and work for me?’
The bombshell dropped out of the blue, and she had nothing to say to that. No speech prepared.
Roman shrugged as he walked deeper into the room. ‘Come work for me,’ he said as if this were the most obvious solution in the world. ‘You don’t want to be a freeloader. And I’m not trying to buy you. So pay your way. That’s fine by me. My aide Mark pulled your CV and I’ve read it. Your qualifications are every bit as good as Britt’s, so why have you never used them? What’s your problem, Eva? What are you frightened of?’
‘I’m not frightened of anything,’ she scoffed, blushing as she turned away, but curiosity got the better of her in the end. ‘What type of job?’
‘Well, let’s see now,’ Roman murmured as he flicked through the dresses on the rail. ‘I think this one. What do you think?’ He held up an elegant dream of a dress in navy blue silk. ‘I think this colour would look wonderful with your hair.’
‘You haven’t answered my question.’
‘I’ve got some good ideas, and that’s all you need to know right now. Try this on. We can talk about work over supper.’
‘You talk and I listen, presumably?’
‘We’ll both talk and we’ll both listen,’ Roman countered, holding her gaze. ‘I thought working on behalf of the mine was what you wanted, Eva?’
‘I’ll listen to what you have to say. Of course, I will,’ she added, wanting to sound receptive rather than belligerent for once in her life. She didn’t dare to hope that tonight her wishes could all come true at once.
* * *
Roman had judged the supper perfectly. He had a deft touch when it came to matching setting with mood, and had chosen a warm little womb of a place where it was impossible not to feel relaxed. Bustling and busy, the decor, in shades of red and old gold, was slightly old-fashioned and slightly shabby and all the better for it. The owner greeted Roman in a way that suggested he had been eating in the same place for years, and there was an air of confidence about the restaurant that suggested it had been in the same family for generations. There were quiet booths, soft lighting, and a jazz singer performing wistful songs at low volume at a piano in the corner. Eva and Roman occupied an end booth where they had more privacy than most.
‘I couldn’t eat another thing,’ she assured him when the waiter brought their coffee. The food had been delicious, but it was hard to concentrate on anything other than the fact that they were sitting across a narrow table from each other with their knees almost touching.
‘You look lovely, Eva. I’m glad you like the dress.’
Almost without realising it, she smoothed the skirt. She had never owned anything quite so elegant. She lived her life in jeans or polar trousers, so the dress was quite a departure from her usual style. She was glad he didn’t gloat that she’d given in. There were battles worth fighting, she had learned, and others where no one lost by backing off.
‘You’re frowning again.’
‘Thinking about that job you mentioned,’ she admitted. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Never more so. You have qualifications in land management, specialising in polar regions, so why haven’t you put them to use?’
‘I had family commitments—and I don’t want to talk about that now.’
‘So I talk and you don’t? I don’t think so, Eva. That’s not how it works.’
‘This was your idea, and either you have a job for me or you don’t.’
Roman looked at her ruefully. ‘You might want to think about how that sounds to a prospective employer. Relax, Eva. This isn’t a test. It’s a serious offer. Maybe the consortium needs your particular local experience and expertise. Have you considered that?’
Her heart wrenched as she realised she was back into the old combative ways, trying to destroy something before she had given it a chance. Was she going to throw this away too? ‘Sorry. I’m just—’
‘Confused by being thrown into a whole new world of possibility? I know. I know you need time, but there is no time, Eva. We both know the mine is at a turning point, and I’m determined it’s going to survive. Now, either you want to be part of that or you don’t.’
‘Can you tell me something about the job?’
‘I want you to work with me.’
‘What? Work with you? Doing what?’ She had imagined some office job low down the pecking order—something to keep her off his back, yet under his thumb. ‘I don’t know anything about polishing diamonds.’
‘Fortunately, I hire many experts who do,’ Roman explained. ‘That isn’t the opportunity I’m talking about. I don’t just plunder mines, Eva. I repair the land and improve it where I can, and that’s where you come in. Sit on our advisory board. You’re the best qualified person I know to offer local knowledge.’
She drew her head back in astonishment. ‘You really are serious.’
‘Absolutely,’ Roman confirmed. ‘Work with me to restore the land after the drilling has established the main shaft. I’d also like you to think about creating a mining museum, something of interest to all those eco-tourists you’re so keen to attract.’
Her heart leapt in all sorts of directions. This was a dream come true, but with a catch. Could she work with him? Could she see Roman every day and not want him? Could she watch him get on with his life—get married eventually, and possibly have children? Could she do all that for the sake of Skavanga?
She had to. She must.
She remained mute and thoughtful as Roman paid the bill and exchanged pleasantries with the owner.
‘Time to leave,’ Roman murmured, making her jump. ‘You can decide on the way.’
‘About the job?’ she said, frowning. ‘You’re not giving me much time.’
‘What else would I be talking about?’ Roman demanded, but there was a wicked glint in his eyes that she could hardly miss, and her wilful body responded as he knew it would, right on cue.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THEY WALKED BACK to his apartment from the restaurant. It was one of those warm, velvet nights when it would be a crime to sit in a limousine. He wanted to walk through the city he loved, and he wanted to share the experience with Eva. He wanted to prolong the evening and that was rare for him. What Eva thought about his city mattered to him, and as he watched her she reminded him of when he was a boy, and Rome had amazed him. He hadn’t always been as sophisticated as she thought him. He’d grown up wild on a tiny island, but he’d made his first fortune here by wheedling himself into the employ of one of the top jewellers by touting the title he’d never used before. That had been his first taste of a world that thought a lot of titles, whereas he knew from his blood father’s example that a title added nothing to the quality of a man. Roman hadn’t been too proud to use that title—not if it got him where he wanted to be. He believed it was the least that was owed to him by the man who had sold him to a mafia don.
‘I love this city,’ Eva breathed as they strolled past the Coliseum. ‘There can’t be anywhere else like this place on earth.’
Eva was an easy companion and he wasn’t used to that. Most women were in a rush, either to get into his bed or into his wallet, but Eva was different. She was like a plant that had been buried beneath polar ice, and was only now pushing a few tentative green shoots towards the sun. Yes, he wanted her. And no, he wasn’t usually this romantic where women were concerned. In the past he had always made it clear that neither love nor romance, let alone marriage, would ever be on his agenda. He’d seen where love took people, and it wasn’t pretty. He preferred to make a straightforward pact where each party got what they wanted from the other. And that had always been enough for him.
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