The Italian's Virgin Acquisition

by Michelle Conder

  Not that kissing Sebastiano had been bad. Quite the contrary. It had been heavenly. Earth-shattering... Poppy punched her pillow again. The truth was she had never kissed a man like that in her life. Had never felt the inclination before; too aware of her mother’s under-age pregnancy and the devastation it had caused. But for those brief, wild moments in Sebastiano’s arms she would have happily thrown all her cautious principles to the wind. She would have happily slaked the wild hunger he had induced in her and that still made her knees feel weak without any thought to her heart, or to Simon’s welfare.

  Which was completely incomprehensible and was an indication of how tired she was, and how much pretending to be his girlfriend this weekend had stressed her. In her desire not to fail at the role she was playing and displease him, she’d thrown herself into the part a little too enthusiastically. That surely helped explain her absolute abandon when he’d kissed her?

  Didn’t it?

  Sighing heavily she closed her eyes against the faint night shadows. The thing to do was to banish the incident from her mind and make sure they were never in a position where it was likely to happen again.

  * * *

  For the first time in fifteen years Sebastiano woke up on the anniversary of his parents’ deaths and they weren’t the first thing on his mind.

  Poppy Connolly was.

  He didn’t know whether to be pleased about that or put out.

  What he did know was that somewhere between two and four am he had reached a decision to treat Poppy as if she was still one of his employees. Sebastiano never mixed business with pleasure and if he thought of her in a professional capacity he was unlikely to be tempted to kiss her again.

  And pigs might fly. Backwards.

  Ignoring the mocking voice in his head, he pushed to a sitting position and stretched the stiffness out of his neck. He’d lied to Poppy the day before when he’d said he’d slept on worse than this sofa. Nothing could be worse than this sofa.

  Hearing that Poppy was already up and in the shower, Sebastiano beat back the urge to join her and grabbed his running shorts.

  Work was usually his go-to panacea when this day dawned. Work and Scotch. Unfortunately Poppy would no doubt interrupt his work, and his grandparents would frown if he downed a bottle of Scotch before breakfast. So exercise it was.

  Taking the back stairs to avoid any nosy family members he set off, grimly setting himself a challenging pace along the narrow, winding path that ran along the outskirts of the harbour village and wove in and around ancient vineyards until his lungs were heaving. It was fifteen years since he had been home at this time of the year. After today he’d make it another fifteen and send his grandparents an enormous anniversary present as compensation.

  Grimacing at a twinge in his calf, he pushed himself harder, hoping that physical exertion would keep the demons at bay just as easily as alcohol.

  Sex would, his unhelpful brain informed him.

  Yeah, well, sex wasn’t on the cards. Erotic dreams about plucky interns notwithstanding.

  Another grimace shot across his face. He hadn’t had a dream about a woman he couldn’t have since he was a teenager. The image of Poppy coming over the top of him in a pale pink slip that slithered over her ripe breasts, her hair unbound and falling around her face as she lowered herself over him and took him deep, was now front and centre in his mind.

  ‘Damn!’ He stumbled as his foot twisted on a pebble, but at least it had jerked him out of his X-rated fantasy. Turning back, he pushed himself even harder until he came to a halt at the edge of the terraced gardens that skirted the villa. Pausing, he stretched out his calf. He had to stop thinking about Poppy. He hadn’t brought her here this weekend to have sex with her. He’d brought her here to convince his grandfather that he was a changed man who deserved to take over the family company.

  Deserved?

  If anyone deserved it less, it was Sebastiano but, as Poppy had made him realise, he was the only one who could take over, and his grandfather needed to retire. He’d have been retired already if Sebastiano hadn’t taken his eldest son from him: Sebastiano’s own father.

  He clenched his jaw as anger and self-loathing twisted like a tight, bitter knot inside him, threatening to pull him under. He’d been a snivelling little brat the night of the accident that had led to his parents’ deaths, and he’d never let himself forget it.

  Maledizione.

  What had made him think that it would be okay to be back here? On this day? He’d mistakenly thought it would prove that he had put the guilt of his past behind him, but it had only proved the opposite. He just thanked God that there were no photos of him and his parents on his nonna’s photo wall. Was that for his benefit, or for theirs?

  He shook the sweat from his eyes and forced himself to sprint up the last steep incline towards the villa. But still the memories of that fateful day intruded into his consciousness like a jackhammer smashing through a slab of concrete.

  In the days after his parents’ accident when none of it had seemed real he’d walked along these hilltops until he was falling over with exhaustion, his grandparents’ old Retriever keeping him company and licking away the tears he’d been unable to suppress. He’d unburdened himself on that poor old dog and a month later she too had died. No doubt from all the misery he had heaped on her. It was the only time he had let himself wallow.

  Since then he’d kept to himself, working for his grandfather and branching out on his own, growing SJC into a global concern. It was something to be proud of, and he was. The company employed thousands of people around the world, but still something nagged at him. Some hollow sensation he knew would only be satisfied when he took control of CE.

  Firmly resolved to focus only on his end goal, and not what sex with Poppy Connolly would be like, Sebastiano rounded the corner of the villa and spotted his grandparents, Nicolette and Poppy breakfasting on the sheltered outdoor terrace. They didn’t notice him at first, their eyes focused on a gift his grandmother was unwrapping. Poppy tucked a strand of ash-brown hair behind her ear and bit into her bottom lip, and immediately the painful memories that had assailed him on his run were replaced with a much more pleasurable sort. The feel of her lips against his. Her breast in his hand.

  He immediately wanted to drag her upstairs, strip the bulky sweater and jeans from her body and turn his midnight fantasies into reality.

  Dio mio, Castiglione, did that run sort nothing out in your head?

  ‘Bastian? Come join us,’ his grandfather said, finally noticing him. ‘Poppy has just given us a beautiful gift for our anniversary.’

  Sebastiano’s gut clenched. She had brought his grandparents a gift?

  ‘It’s exquisite,’ Nicolette said. ‘Who’s the designer?’

  A becoming flush highlighted Poppy’s cheeks. Sebastiano glanced at the delicate glass-blown figurine his grandmother was carefully inspecting. It was of a horse with wings—at once whimsical and evocative. ‘It’s not from any particular design house; Simon did it.’

  ‘Your brother? He’s so talented,’ Nicolette gushed.

  ‘That’s nice of you to say,’ Poppy commented. ‘I think he is too, but it’s just a hobby at this stage. I took him to a glass works exhibition at the Tate Modern last year and he’s become obsessed.’

  Casting a cursory glance at the piece his family was admiring, Sebastiano stepped closer to Poppy. Immediately her eyes cut to his, a blush staining her cheeks. She went still and all his senses homed in on her. He’d bet that she was remembering their explosive connection the night before and he wasn’t traditionally a betting man. ‘Buongiorno, Poppy,’ he said, barely stopping himself from reaching for her to find out. ‘You’re up early.’

  ‘I... I couldn’t sleep,’ she admitted, then, realising that they had a rapt audience, added, ‘After you left.’

  He lightly gripped the nape of her neck beneath the fall of her hair and felt her body quiver. A swift, answering response made his throb. ‘I didn’
t want to disturb you,’ he murmured as if he really had just left her bed.

  ‘The coffee has just been poured,’ his grandmother pointed out. ‘Let me get you a cup.’

  ‘That’s fine, Nonna.’ Sebastiano stayed her. ‘I have to take a shower before I sweat all over Poppy. Nonno, what time do you want to meet today?’

  ‘Ah, already your head is in business. This is why you are so successful, nipote mio, but also why you need Poppy by your side. You risk becoming less human.’

  ‘I’m human,’ Sebastiano ground out. Right now he was having a very human reaction to the woman seated so serenely at his family’s breakfast table.

  ‘Speaking of plans for the day, Bastian,’ Nicolette said, ‘I’ve asked Poppy if she’d like to come sailing on Destino. I thought it would be nice to show her some of the Riviera since you’re going to be in meetings all day. And she’s never been on a boat before. It will be her first time.’

  Somehow the words first time stirred something in his Italian blood and, remembering Poppy’s words from the day before about how ‘focused’ he was, Sebastiano found himself announcing that it was a great idea but that he would take her himself.

  Poppy immediately objected, saying that she understood he was here to work and not entertain her. She sounded sincere but Sebastiano heard a note of panic in her voice and guessed that her reticence had more to do with last night’s kiss than any altruistic concerns for his business goals. Certainly she had barely looked at him since he’d arrived on the terrace, and he didn’t like it.

  ‘Va bene, va bene,’ his grandfather chimed in. ‘Why do not we all go? We don’t need an office to talk business and the house is about to be overrun with preparations for the party tonight.’

  Unable to fault his grandfather’s logic, especially with his grandmother’s murmured approval, Sebastiano nearly groaned out loud. First he’d made a suggestion he hadn’t meant to make, and now he and Poppy would be under scrutiny the whole time. Not that they wouldn’t have been anyway with Nicolette present, but his grandparents were far more astute than his bubbly cousin.

  ‘Terrific,’ he said, grabbing a pastry from the breadbasket. ‘Let me take a shower.’

  * * *

  ‘Sebastiano?’

  Poppy had made her excuses at the table and rushed after Sebastiano, catching him halfway up the stairs.

  His gaze swept over her as he turned and waited for her to reach him, making her agonisingly aware of her body in a way only he managed to do.

  ‘What is it, bella?’

  Flustered by the time she reached him, Poppy took a deep breath to steady her heart rate. ‘I just wanted to say that if you would prefer to stay here and work then please do. I have some studying to get done for an exam I have in a couple of weeks anyway.’

  ‘It’s too late now,’ he said unhelpfully. ‘But by all means, bring your study notes if you want. And a jacket. The sun is out, but it will be cold on the water.’

  ‘I don’t expect you to babysit me, Sebastiano.’

  Liking the sound of his name on her proper English tongue a little too much, Sebastiano scowled. ‘I’m not babysitting you. I’m taking your advice and showing my grandfather my reformed ways. I would have thought you would be commending me rather than reprimanding me.’

  Poppy might have commended him if she wasn’t feeling so out of sorts. Something had changed when he had kissed her last night. She hadn’t wanted to admit it but now it was all she could think about and she didn’t know how to stop it.

  ‘Why don’t we just go and enjoy ourselves?’ he suggested. ‘If nothing else it will be a good distraction from the realities of life.’

  * * *

  Poppy had no time to ponder that esoteric comment until later. It came back to her as she watched Sebastiano, his legs braced wide as he steered the sleekly hulled vessel through wind-ruffled waves. Poppy pulled her jacket more firmly around her and turned her face up to the sun, the yacht’s billowing white sails catching the wind as they raced across the water. She had to admit the whole experience of skimming over the clear blue sea in a shiny yacht and taking in the romantic Italian coastline was nothing short of exhilarating: the smell of the sea and the call of seagulls flying over head, the feel of the salt water spray intermittently carried on the wind as the waves crashed against the side of the boat. It was almost as exhilarating as the thrill she got from watching the man at the helm.

  Sebastiano had taken over from the captain after lunch and she could tell he loved being out on the water. It was the most relaxed she had seen him since they had arrived, and again she wondered at his cryptic comment about wanting to be distracted from the realities of life.

  As far as Poppy could see Sebastiano had a pretty good one, born to a privileged family who loved him dearly, and having amassed enough money to last him several lifetimes without having to think about it. Looking at him now, he was like a modern-day pirate, commanding everything and everyone around him with the authority of a man born to power, his thick sweater moulding to his broad shoulders, his glossy black hair blowing in the wind. She couldn’t imagine what was missing from his life. Other than his grandfather’s endorsement for him to take over as CEO, but any fool could see that that was imminent. Especially if she played her part well.

  ‘Poppy, can you take this to Bastian?’

  She glanced behind her to see Evelina holding up two steaming mugs of coffee.

  ‘Of course.’

  Rising to her feet, she made her way towards the helm, her ponytail whipping around her in the breeze. Just before she got to him his eyes gleamed with interest. ‘You planning to hand that to me, or throw it at me?’

  ‘That depends on whether you plan to keep reminding me of my faux pas every time I bring you coffee,’ she countered, warning herself to keep her emotional walls in place when he showed his more playful side.

  ‘Since it’s too cold to lose my shirt, I’ll not mention it again,’ he promised, a slight smile tugging at his lips as he took the mug from her. ‘How are you enjoying your first boating experience?’

  ‘It’s fantastic. Thank you. You’ve given me so many firsts I can hardly keep track.’ First ride on a plane—private or commercial—first trip to Italy, first truly passionate kiss. Blushing at the direction of her thoughts, and worried he could read exactly what she was thinking, she sipped her own coffee. ‘How did your meeting with your grandfather go earlier?’

  ‘So so.’ He grimaced. ‘The old goat is still stalling.’

  ‘Why would he be stalling?’ Poppy asked, instantly worried. ‘Do you think he doesn’t believe we’re a couple?’

  ‘No, it’s not that. I think he doesn’t want to give up control of CE. He’s as stubborn as an ox and wants everything to go his way.’

  Poppy couldn’t help the small smile that touched her lips, and of course he noticed.

  ‘I do not have to have everything my way,’ he denied with an arrogant tilt to his head, his eyes narrowing menacingly.

  Poppy laughed softly. ‘If it helps, you’re usually right. Or so everyone in your office thinks.’

  His eyebrow rose with cynical amusement. ‘Tell my grandfather that. He might listen if it comes from you.’

  He gave a frustrated sigh. ‘His problem is that he doesn’t trust the latest innovations, and thinks I’m going to continue current trends and off-shore our workforce.’

  ‘It is a valid concern in this shifting employment market,’ Poppy said. ‘So many companies are doing it and it means less jobs now and in the future. Labour forces around the world are going to suffer.’

  ‘I know. But I have no intention of offloading our loyal employees like yesterday’s garbage. There are other measures that can be taken to lower operational costs and I intend to implement those first.’

  ‘Give your grandfather time. I’m sure it’s not easy for him to think about retiring after so many years in charge. But I’m sure you’ll do right by everyone.’

  ‘You are?’
<
br />   ‘Don’t look so surprised,’ she said. ‘You’ve done right by me so far.’ Which was a surprise in itself, given her earlier experiences of human nature. ‘You’re a good person. I wasn’t so sure of it at first.’

  ‘I would never have guessed,’ he said dryly.

  Poppy chuckled. ‘It’s not totally my fault. You weren’t very approachable that first morning, and then you were extremely pushy.’ She glanced at him over the top of her mug. ‘I also thought you wanted to take over your family business to increase your net worth, but I was wrong to judge you when I didn’t really know you.’

  ‘Don’t make me out to be more than I am, Poppy,’ he said gruffly. ‘I’m nobody’s hero.’

  Poppy tilted her head, smoothing down her ponytail as it caught in the wind again. ‘Are you afraid I’ll fall for you?’ She smiled easily, but the pulse in her throat had picked up speed and she was very much afraid Sebastiano had noticed it. ‘I promise you, I won’t. I’m innately sensible, and besides...’ She glanced out to sea. ‘I’m not looking for love either.’

  ‘Why not?’ Sebastiano spun the wheel and deftly manoeuvred the yacht towards the family’s private jetty.

  Poppy shrugged. ‘I have Simon to take care of and he’s at that difficult teenager stage where he needs someone solid in his life to show him the way. I’ve seen what happens to kids without direction and I don’t want that to happen to him. On top of that, I really don’t have time. Between work, Simon and study, I’m done in most days.’

  ‘A man could help ease your load.’

  ‘He could also add to it.’ She shuddered. ‘I’ve worked out how to get by on my own and I like it.’ She looked at him a little self-consciously. ‘Boy, conversations with you get personal quickly.’ She stepped away from him lightly. ‘What time are we heading back to London tomorrow? I have to let Simon and Maryann know.’

  As the yacht docked, two burly men moved forward to secure the ropes Sebastiano threw to them.