Master of Bella Terra (10 page)

His eyes twinkled in the dancing sunlight. ‘Fine. I wanted to see if you had changed your mind, that's all.'

With a wolfish smile he lifted her chin with his hand. She had been remembering his touch all day, but her memory was nowhere near as powerful as the real thing. His skin glided over hers like a kiss of fire, drawing a gasp from her lips.

‘Second chances make life worth living, don't you think?'

His voice ended in a whisper of longing. Enfolding her in the curve of his arm, he drew her the last few inches towards his body. His kiss was a long, slow promise of all the things Kira knew he was so brilliant at. She could not help but respond. She was aware of all the dangers, but they were nothing when matched against his powers of seduction. Knowing she should pull back, she forced herself to do it.

At her first hesitation he let her go. His hands drifted regretfully from her body. She took a step back from him, struggling to catch her breath. Her common sense was marginally easier to manage.

‘Last night was a mistake. One of those should be enough for both of us.'

His touch slid down her back, lingered around her ribs and then fell away. Pushing his hands deep into his pockets, he shrugged.

‘I know—' he gave her an irrepressible smile ‘—but you surely can't blame me for trying?'

‘I've told you. Now I'm officially on your payroll,
there can be nothing between us. I'm only interested in doing the best I can for you.'

He cocked his head on one side and regarded her with the keen look of a bush robin. ‘Ah, but in what way?'

‘You're my employer, nothing more,' Kira said firmly, desperately in need of the reminder. She had managed to keep her emotions out of it—until now. She could feel herself sliding out of control. Equally determined to call her bluff, Stefano wasn't about to give her a second chance to back down.

‘Okay. If that's how you feel, follow me, and I shall show you to your room.'

He was already walking away. Kira was drawn along in his wake, trying to catch up.

‘Isn't it lovely? Silver Island is the ideal refuge for me—and anyone I choose to invite here.'

Those last words were thrown casually over his shoulder as he walked into the treeline. Kira followed him. She caught him up as he breasted a little rise where palms gave way to lush, leafy shrubs. This oasis of cool shade was the perfect place for a collection of freshly whitewashed buildings. Each was roofed with yellow ochre tiles, patterned with age.

‘That's my headquarters.' Stefano pointed out the largest building as they crossed a clearing. ‘Like all my properties, the first thing I do is bring in office staff, so I can keep my finger on the pulse of business, day and night.'

Kira laughed at the picture he painted.

‘It's no wonder you never feel at home! You make everywhere into an extension of your office.'

Stefano frowned and did not reply. They drew closer to the buildings. As they crossed the pine-and balsam
scented clearing, a cloud of brightly coloured parakeets exploded into the air from the eaves of an apartment building. It was twice the size of La Ritirata. Unlike Kira's ancient little home, its roof was supported by all the walls in all the right places. She was instantly impressed. As Stefano showed her up the steps of her temporary home, she was already wondering what design ideas she could take back with her.

‘Well? What do you think?'

Kira had been too wrapped up in her own thoughts to realise Stefano was interested in her opinion. When she jumped at his light touch on her waist, he dropped his hand and stepped back. Hurriedly, she went in to discover her apartment's air-conditioned luxury—and stopped dead.

‘It's amazing!' she breathed, and it was true. Her luggage stood in the centre of a large, cool room. There were big, squashy chairs and a matching settee for loafing. The floor covering was thick and plush. Beautiful art stood on every shelf, while woven hangings added splashes of colour against the sparkling white walls. Everything was brand new—and it was all oddly soulless, as though the wraps had been taken off this apartment especially for her.

‘Am I your only guest, Stefano?'

‘At the moment, yes.' He strolled over to where a reclining nude sculpted from rich red wood stood on a side table. Drawing his fingers over its glowing flanks, he gazed at her thoughtfully. ‘At least, you're the first to stay in this particular building.'

Kira didn't say anything. Instead, she let him show her around the bland and beautiful apartment. Everything
was absolutely right, from the wall hangings to the ethnic rugs and the huge gold-and-marble bathroom.

‘I think it's wonderful,' Kira said as she strolled into her new bedroom. A genuine Victorian bed stood at its heart. The pillows and thick, soft mattress looked so inviting—but to her embarrassment her first thoughts at the sight of such a bed were certainly not of sleep.

‘I'm impressed you haven't followed me in here,' she said airily.

Her words provoked a reaction in him, but too late she discovered it wasn't the one she wanted.

‘You said you wanted me to stop all that,' he drawled, leaning against the door frame.

With a pang, she turned to face him. Her first rebuke had worked better than she expected. One look at his beautiful face and she knew he could see through her flinty manner to the real, pulsating woman within. She flushed with shame as he continued to watch her, his gaze feeling heavy as a caress on her skin.

‘From now on,' he said softly, ‘you're the one who makes the decisions. For example, whether you want to have dinner with me this evening at eight o'clock is entirely up to you.'

It was a statement, not a question. Before he finished speaking he pushed himself upright and strolled away through her apartment.

 

Stefano caught himself smiling as he headed for his own bungalow. That was a surprise. He had known Kira was a passionate woman beneath her reserve, but he hadn't expected such untapped depths of sensuality. She had been so determined not to fall for his charm that usually he would have looked elsewhere without a second
thought, but she was different. Her hands put a stop to their kiss on the beach, but her lips told a different story. Stefano knew women and Kira Banks was definitely a girl worth waiting for. She would make such a change from the extrovert capers of his usual women. She needed much more careful handling, and Stefano knew he was the ideal man to conquer her fears. A few days of his company, together with the allure of this tropical island, would slowly melt her English reserve.

Like a stalking leopard, Stefano settled down for a long wait.

 

Kira watched him walk away. He never once looked back, although something told her he knew very well that her eyes were on him. She stayed motionless, until he disappeared inside his bungalow and closed the door. It was only then she took refuge inside her own rooms.

Leaning back against the closed door, she looked around. This place was paradise. A wand of fragrant orchids peeped over the nearest windowsill. Outside, the parakeets returned, tumbling over the eaves and squawking with delight. Silver Island had everything—including the only man she could ever want. This should be the project from heaven, and more holiday than work. Yet Kira already felt stressed. She might as well have been back in England, trying to sort out her stepparents' chaotic finances.

She knew she should ignore Stefano's invitation to dinner. Her willpower would be under pressure from the moment she crossed his threshold.

Somehow, that didn't feel like such a terrible threat any more. A small smile flitted across her face. When
Stefano wasn't with her, she missed him. That was a totally alien experience for Kira. It made her feel unsure of herself. She didn't like it, but she did like Stefano—in a way that encouraged all sorts of outrageous thoughts.

She was having a particularly wild idea right now. Any truly independent, intelligent person ought to be able to accept his invitation to dinner. She had come a long way over the past couple of years. She was a successful businesswoman. A perfectly respectable dinner with a man she fancied was exactly the treat she deserved for landing such a lucrative contract. It would also be an opportunity to put herself to the test. If she succeeded in resisting Stefano this evening, she would be unstoppable. There would be no limit to what she could achieve, if only she could show her new boss that not every woman would roll over and beg for his body straight away.

If she failed, the worst that could happen was that he would ravish her senseless. Her heart and mind would never be in danger. They were safely locked away, somewhere Stefano would never be allowed to find them.

Kira felt she couldn't lose.

O
NE
long, luxurious bath later, Kira slipped into the single evening dress she had packed. It was a silky little emerald number she had worn for the most recent Chelsea gala night.

I'll show Stefano that when it comes to his charms, I can be chilled steel. I can resist him, she told herself a hundred times.

The mirror told a different story. Her eyes were dark with arousal. The tip of her tongue rested against the glossy cushion of her lower lip as she pinned her mane of auburn hair up into a sophisticated coil. The sight made her smile. She looked good, and knew it. Loose tendrils danced over the creamy curves of her neck and shoulders. Her dress was a sumptuous slither of sequinned silk. Its opulent shade of green complemented the rich tawny of her hair. With every movement it shimmered like the sea.

As she twirled and swirled in front of the full-length mirror, Kira went on deceiving herself. Instead of trying to put Stefano off by dressing like a drudge, she would make this evening still more of a challenge by making herself irresistible. Then, when he tried to seduce her and failed, her triumph would be complete. After all,
when we met I was only dressed in dusty jeans and look what happened then! It's not the clothes he should be interested in, but what is inside them, she told herself, managing to limit her self-delusion right at the end. There was absolutely no point in imagining he was only interested in her brain. To her horror, the reflection looking back from the glass smiled instead of frowned. Stefano Albani was all man. He had proved it to her any number of times during their fantastic night together.

She checked her appearance again. Her smile faltered, and then returned with added self-assurance. She loved this dress, and for once the torture of a social occasion was going to be sweet, sweet, sweet.

She added one last finishing touch. It was truly spectacular. With her first impressive pay cheque, Kira had spoiled herself with a real diamond necklace. It contained the smallest stones in captivity, brilliantly cut and cleverly set to make them look larger. Tiny they might be, but she was really proud of her necklace. It didn't matter to her that she never went anywhere she could wear it. That wasn't the point. It was beautiful, and it was hers.

She laid the galaxy of tiny stars against her skin and fastened the catch. Then she took the matching earrings from their royal-blue velvet bed. It had taken her a further two years of careful saving to add them to her collection, and this was the first time they had been out of the box. Finally, glittering like moonlight on the sea, she set off on the nerve-racking walk to Stefano's bungalow.

 

Her nerves were tuned to a high C of tension by the time she reached his apartment. They weren't helped
by movement sensors switching on a battery of security lights. Startled by the sudden blaze, a deer shot away through the undergrowth. It leapt like her heart as it dived into cover. That close shave did nothing for Kira's nerves. Feeling like a prisoner on the run under all the lights, she started up the front steps. Raising her hand, she knocked hesitantly. Five…ten…fifteen seconds passed with no reply. Then she noticed the bell. The bungalow was so large, the chances were that Stefano hadn't heard her nervous tapping. She leaned on the bell, and heard it echoing through the building beyond. He must have heard it, but it still felt an awfully long time passed between pressing the button and seeing the bungalow door open.

‘Kira.'

Stefano loomed in the doorway, dressed in an immaculate white shirt and dark trousers. He looked magnificent, but it was his expression that snatched her breath away. He was looking at her with the same illicit pleasure she had seen in her reflection only a few moments before. ‘You look incredible.'

‘Thank you!' she said breathlessly, relying on the glittering diamonds, sequins, lipgloss and nail polish to speak for her. It was a risky venture. There was a fine line between untouchable beauty and come-hither.

He stepped back from the door with an inviting gesture. ‘Come in and make yourself comfortable.'

Kira followed him into the bungalow. The building smelled of new money and even newer paint. It was as tasteful as her own apartment, and just as soulless.

‘I've given most of my staff the evening off.'

Kira stared at him. He returned her look with one that danced with silent amusement.

Escape was still not impossible. She could have reached out and touched the door from where she was standing. All it needed was a quick goodnight. She could make some excuse and slip out into the safety of darkness, beyond the security lighting.

She didn't do any of those things. Instead, she looked around. Rather than cowering by the door, she began to unfold like a flower. After all, she told herself, there's no triumph in running away. She had accepted Stefano's invitation. If she took up the challenge of treating him like a trustworthy employer rather than a casual lover, that was even better.

Stefano began moving around the room with careful deliberation. Under Kira's gaze, he shook sofa cushions and dragged scattered magazines into a pile.

‘Now you've had time to settle into your own apartment, why don't you have a look around here, and tell me what you think?' he asked her as he prowled around.

‘I think you have a beautiful house, on a lovely island. The peace and quiet here make it almost as perfect as the Bella Terra valley,' she said simply.

‘Almost?' Stefano asked.

Kira didn't answer him. The large main room of his apartment had been painted pale ochre, with the woodwork a slightly lighter shade. It was sparsely furnished, with polished boards rather than carpet on the floor. They gave it a rather hollow feeling. The whole atmosphere was light and bright rather than warm and welcoming. It echoed the impersonal touch that seemed to follow Stefano around, but she didn't know how to explain it to him. Instead, she went to investigate two long leather couches and a beautiful large glass coffee table while he headed for the sound system.

‘Make yourself comfortable while I set things in motion. We're dining on the mainland, so I'll alert the launch.' He walked towards the nearest telephone.

‘Oh…I thought we'd be eating here?' Kira could not keep the disappointment from her voice. ‘Leaving this paradise and plunging back into the chaos of city life doesn't appeal in the slightest.'

Stefano had been studying one of his works of art with a critical eye. When she said that, he stopped and looked straight at her instead. A slow smile spread across his face ‘Squisita! You are an unusual woman, Kira. Not everyone would choose a simple dinner rather than air-conditioned luxury.'

‘Well, I would,' said Kira firmly. ‘You are so lucky, being able to escape from everyone and everything whenever you like.'

His art collection forgotten, Stefano's attention was now firmly riveted on Kira. One hand in his pocket he strolled towards her, his eyes intent on her face.

‘Is that what you think?'

Kira looked askance. ‘Why would I say something I didn't mean?'

‘You'd be surprised how many people do. All of the women I speak to, as a matter of fact. With one notable exception.' He inclined his head to her, interest very obvious in his beautiful eyes.

‘That's what living does for you.' Kira was hardly aware of what she was saying. Only one thing mattered, and that was the lovely warm feeling that came from basking in his appreciation. ‘It's easy to forget what life is actually about.'

‘And what do you think that is?' He was looking at
her with intensity and his expression demanded nothing less than the absolute truth.

‘I'd love to be able to say home and family, but I've only got experience of half that equation. I've got the home. It's better than I ever dreamed it would be, but I've never known what a happy family feels like. My idea of what it must be like is hopelessly romantic. Please shoot all my delusions down in flames by telling me your Italian family background is full of fights and bad feeling, and not a bit like the cheerful stereotype!' Kira tried to joke past the pain, but she wasn't the only one with issues. For the first time in heart-stopping minutes, Stefano avoided her eyes. It was a painful reminder that she might not be the only person in the world hiding inner turmoil.

Walking over to the fully stocked bar that stood in a far corner of the room, he spooned ice cubes into two tall glasses. ‘What would you like?'

To take back the last thing I said, Kira thought, wishing she hadn't rattled on so cheerfully. ‘I'll have a St Clement's, please,' she muttered.

As a distraction, it worked perfectly. Stefano left the bar and stepped through a pair of French doors. Kira watched him reach out and select the ripest fruit from big old citrus trees shading the veranda. When he returned, so did his smile. In one hand he held a spray of polished, dark green leaves. Nestling at their heart was a cluster of waxy white blossoms and purple-stained buds. He held it out to her gallantly.

‘This is for you, to make up for the bouquet that would have been waiting for you at the restaurant in town.'

‘Thank you!' she whispered, glowing with pleasure.
The heavy, sweet fragrance stole through the warm evening air between them. ‘It's lovely!'

‘Then it is exactly the right gift for you,' he said quietly, moving in still closer. ‘Let me see how it can be fixed…'

‘No!' Kira leapt back in alarm. It was already hard enough keeping him at arm's length. When he lavished her with flowers and soft words, it was impossible. ‘I mean, no, thank you. The perfume is so powerful I'd rather have them in a vase on the table.'
And I can pretend to be looking at them, when I'm really looking at you!
The words raced desperately through her mind as she watched him walk back to the bar. He halved all the fruit and extracted the juice with powerful but deft movements. Then he presented her with a perfect cocktail.

‘That's really impressive. You handled that knife like a professional.'

‘Call it the legacy of a wasted youth,' he said, mixing himself the driest of dry martinis.

‘I know all about that,' she said with a shiver as the ice rattled enticingly in her glass.

Stefano's shoulders visibly relaxed, as though he had ordered them to. Until that moment Kira had assumed he was always perfectly at ease. Now she knew better. The change in him was noticeable. The mask was back in place.

‘I doubt that very much, but we can discuss it over dinner. What would you like? Name it, and my chef will make it for you.'

He must have been through this routine with a thousand women. Kira heard the ring of fine crystal echoing again across the glade from his kitchens. No doubt
they were getting ready to serve a meal fit for the latest princess of Silver Island. She had no intention of being a temporary attraction. The reason she was here was to stake her claim to something much more important than that. Caviar and champagne counted for nothing if it lacked one simple ingredient. She wanted Stefano's respect. That was more important than any amount of cordon bleu cookery, and she intended to get it. Leaving her drink on the bar she strolled away to admire a piece of glass sculpture so that he would not see her smile.

‘Do you know what I'd really like, if it's not too much trouble?'

‘Dressed in silk and diamonds? Do you want me to offend your sense of decency?'

Regarding him with a cool, steady gaze she said slowly, ‘I'll tell you what would make my evening complete. Something utterly simple. No distractions.'

‘No oysters or asparagus?'

‘Aphrodisiacs? I don't need them,' she said simply.

He laughed, but for the first time the amusement never reached his eyes. As he phoned through to the kitchen, Kira watched him with intense interest. Moving restlessly beneath her gaze, he showed her into the dining room.

‘I'll bet you can't remember the last time you shared such a simple meal with a girl,' she said idly.

There was nothing half-hearted about Stefano's reaction.

“On the contrary, I'll never forget it.'

His tone was so strange Kira shot a quick look at him. In profile he had a gaunt, distracted look she had never noticed before. As she watched, he collected himself and added, ‘She was a girl who knew her own mind,
too. That's the reason she's not here to share all this, tonight.' He pushed a hand out to indicate the luxury surrounding them. Kira could not help thinking of the svelte, glamorous Chantal.

‘Someone else who wouldn't stand for your womanising ways?' she said slyly. ‘So that makes two of us.'

‘No, only one.'

That must mean she won't put up with it, but he thinks I will! Kira thought indignantly.

She was about to spring to her own defence, but the words died on her lips. Something about the way Stefano abruptly turned his back on her warned her to keep quiet. He walked over to the long, highly polished dining table. Closing his long sensitive fingers around one of the chairs, he pulled it out for her to sit down.

‘And now, no more questions. You accepted my invitation to dine, so it's up to me to play the part of charming host.' The tension drained from his voice as he watched her shimmer into her seat. Candles set in silver candelabra stood in the centre of the table. Stefano lit them. Instantly, a million sparkles danced over the diamonds at Kira's throat. The same cold fire ran over her silken dress. It melted the frown creasing Stefano's brow. She actually saw him catch his breath, and it was wonderful.

‘Kira…you have never looked lovelier,' he murmured.

She couldn't answer. Deep in her heart she hoped it was true, and wished she could believe him. While she was preening in front of her mirror, the thought of him had transformed her. Now he was working his magic on her in living, breathing reality. She felt fantastic, and he was telling her she looked it, too.