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CHAPTER TWO

THE ALLOTTED HALF-HOUR timespan, which under any other circumstances Niccolo would have rigidly adhered to, was galloping fast towards its end. With his bottle of water replenished, and protein bar only just managing to take the edge off his hunger pangs, he looked at Ellie, appreciating the slow crawl of colour tingeing her cheeks.

Maybe he would be lenient and extend the stay of execution because he liked the way those big, hazel eyes were staring at him, sheepishly, faltering, yet with just an interesting hint of defiance. Also, her pitch might be ridiculously fuzzy round the edges, but the other pitches he’d seen had been way too suggestive in comparison. It wouldn’t hurt to hear her out.

And she did have those big, hazel eyes.

This was the first time Niccolo had ever taken any interest in any of the advertising campaigns for his companies. Normally, that was left to the experts in his Sales and Marketing department.

This hotel, however, was quite separate from his business interests. This venture was solely funded from his own personal fortune. It was his baby and his alone. The excitement of running an empire was beginning to pall. Life was beginning to pall. He had kept his promise to his father. His duty to make sure his family was taken care of had been done, so what now? It sometimes felt as though duty was all he had been programmed to do. This hotel, and the subsequent chain of similar hotels he had in mind, had revived his jaded palate. Overseeing its development, with the select little team he had personally hand-picked, half of whom were having the time of their lives working in situ on the island, was proving to be just the tonic he needed.

And the woman sitting opposite him was having a similar effect. Very energizing.

‘Of course...’ Ellie broke a silence that had reached screaming point. ‘I do realise that your hotel will be catering for a young, singles market...’

‘Not necessarily young. In fact, I would say that young people will be in the minority. Most of them wouldn’t be able to afford the prices I’m asking. But you’ve got the single part right. Single people looking for love on a holiday of a lifetime. Exquisite location, exquisite scenery—it’s the ultimate place for a romantic connection to develop.

‘Except all I’m seeing here is the exquisite scenery. Anyone looking at what you’ve put together would think that you’re advertising somewhere for stars-in-their-eyes honeymooners. So, repeat, tell me what else you’ve got, because your competitors have all managed to hit the nail on the head with their offerings.’ They hadn’t, he thought, but you never showed your hand and lost the advantage. It wouldn’t hurt for her to think that the competition was galloping towards the finishing line.

‘I thought that it might be more tempting if guests weren’t made to feel that they were there to...to...make romantic connections.’

Niccolo’s eyebrows shot up. ‘You mean, delude them into thinking that they’re really there just for the blue skies and the turquoise sea—the peace and tranquillity? Ms Wilson, my guests will be actively seeking partners, and focusing on the scenery isn’t going to tempt them, it’s going to put them off.’

‘If you don’t like what I’ve done, Mr Rossi, then perhaps we shouldn’t waste one another’s time any longer.’ But to return empty-handed was going to hurt their business. Of course, it couldn’t be helped, but the agency, her career...those were the things that grounded her, that enabled her to put down roots. It represented all those steps on the ladder that would mean that she would never have to endure the insecurities she’d had to endure as a child. Her parents’ wanderings had been self-imposed but Ellie knew well enough that, even if you took that out of the equation, the only way anyone could be guaranteed that their house remained their castle was to have the wherewithal to pay the mortgage.

‘You’re not much of a trier, are you, Ms Wilson?’ Niccolo remarked dryly. ‘Giving up already? Aren’t you going to try to get me to see your point of view? I’m shocked that you can survive longer than two minutes in the cut-throat world of advertising where sex sells—and, the more explicit the sex, the higher the turnover of sales.’ Niccolo watched the stubborn tilt of her chin with interest. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve never gone down the tawdry route of selling something stunningly dull and virtually unsaleable with the help of a few sexy images...?’

‘I haven’t, as it happens,’ Ellie returned stiffly. She looked at his devastatingly handsome face and thought that there was little chance he would ever be able to get where she was coming from, because when you oozed sex appeal like he did it was unlikely you could ever appreciate that it wasn’t just about the physical. ‘The accounts I have worked on have had great success on an approach based on nostalgia, whimsy and a reminder that the good things in life don’t necessarily have anything to do with sex.’

‘Ah. I’m getting the picture. You’re the “bread, cheese and milk” person. You leave the cars, perfume and alcohol to your more racy co-workers.’ He gazed at her thoughtfully and then stood up, waiting while she scrambled hastily to her feet.

‘You’ve already had more of my time than I’d banked on,’ he told her bluntly. ‘And you should have already done yourself out of a job by your charming but misdirected pitch. But here’s what I’m thinking, Ms Eleanor Wilson. Maybe it would be unwise to fall into the trap of the obvious appeal. Needless to say, your campaign is way too hazy for my venture, but on the other hand it’s not sleazy. There isn’t a single saucy image, and you’ve managed to show me an entire pitch in which no mention is made of the fact that everyone on the complex will be looking for a connection. Somewhere between the “sex sells” and the romantic sunsets is what I’m looking for. So, why don’t you follow me to my office and you can have the full brunt of my attention?’

He was already walking towards the door and Ellie tripped behind him, stuffing her files into the briefcase and balancing the tablet and her coat in her free hand.

Unsurprisingly, she thought sourly, the man had not offered to carry anything for her. She was grateful that she was being given a second chance to prove herself but, if he wanted to bring her round to promoting the concept of a resort where people were invited to pay a fortune so that they could hook up with similarly rich people for meaningless sex, then he was barking up the wrong tree.

Meaningless sex wasn’t her thing. She could still remember the swinging parties her parents had had, the concept of free love which they had never hidden from her. Once, when she’d been eight or nine, she had burst into the kitchen for a glass of water only to find her mother wrapped round a fellow hippy houseguest. After that, she had had the talk about the birds and the bees—except, unlike most ‘birds and bees’ talks delivered by well-intentioned, responsible parents, hers had been liberally promoting the joys of experimental sex and the positives of being adventurous.

There was a lift that went directly from the gym, straight up to Niccolo’s suite of offices on the top floor of the building. She could have been a piece of office furniture for all the attention he paid to her on the way. He worked on his phone, indolently leaning against the brushed metal panel, one hundred percent focused on whatever he was doing.

Even when the lift doors purred open, he barely raised his eyes from whatever was garnering his attention. His hair had more or less dried and he had raked his fingers through it, giving it an approximation of neatness. Gone was the raw, primal male heaving his impossible load of weights and in its place was the urbane and sophisticated billionaire who could have whatever he wanted at the click of his imperious fingers, although...

Her gaze skittered surreptitiously to him and she shivered because, suit or no suit, there was still something darkly, dangerously and thrillingly intimidating about him. She stiffened at the fanciful turn of her thoughts. She wasn’t a Victorian maiden and he wasn’t a swash-buckling male. She was an efficient and ambitious partner in an up-and-coming advertising agency and he was a potential client who had the capacity to put their business on the map. She’d worked hard for this opportunity and she wasn’t going to squander it.

Ellie barely noticed the plush surroundings as they disembarked on the top floor. There was a hush in the huge open space, where smoked-glass partitions and cleverly positioned plants formed barriers between some of the walnut-and-chrome desks. It was the hush of people working hard to make the billions that kept Niccolo’s sprawling company at the top of the pecking order.

His offices were at the end of a thickly carpeted corridor and he only paused when he entered an outer room where a middle-aged woman was busily doing something on her computer.

‘No interruptions for the next hour,’ Niccolo said, sweeping past to push open his office door, then standing aside for Ellie to brush past him. ‘I’ll be busy.’ He turned to his secretary and Ellie could detect the wicked grin in his voice. ‘Ms Wilson, who’s going to try and convince me that sex doesn’t sell.’

Ellie knew when she was being goaded and, much as she didn’t like it, discretion was the better part of valour. And who knew? Maybe she would be able to make him see that sex wasn’t the be all and end all when it came to selling an image of fun.

‘So.’ Niccolo waved to one of chairs clustered around a low wooden table. His office wasn’t so much one room as several rooms laid out in the manner of a very expensive, very open-plan studio apartment. There was a sitting area, a dining area and a bar area. All that was missing was a bedroom, although the deep three-seater sofa against the grey wall...

Ellie sat. The chairs were low and deep. They were designed to encourage relaxation but, since the last thing she felt was relaxed, she perched uncomfortably on the edge of one and placed her tablet on the table in front of her.

Niccolo sprawled in the chair facing her.

‘You were going to try and win this contract,’ he drawled, settling into the chair and loosely linking his fingers on his washboard-hard stomach. ‘By showing me what you can do when sex on the beach meets sunsets in paradise.’ He grinned. ‘So, lose the landscaped garden appeal, and the locally sourced fruit-and-veg slideshow, and show me how you can get on board with love at first sight and adventures between the sheets.’

In that very instant, Ellie knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that there was almost no chance Niccolo was going to use her agency to promote his venture.

Her time should have been up but he found her entertaining. She could hear the thread of amusement in his voice and she could see it reflected in the lazy speculation behind his dark eyes.

He owned the company and he could do exactly what he wanted and, if he wanted to toy with her, then there was no one to stop him.

She wasn’t the sort of woman he was accustomed to meeting and that was the long and short of it. He might genuinely be interested in her input, because it would be so contrary to the rest of the pitches he had heard, but in the end the job would go to the agency that fell in line with his fun-in-the-sun, hit-and-run version of love.

‘I don’t think I’m the right person for the job, Mr Rossi,’ Ellie said politely. ‘I’ve had a very high success rate with all the other contracts I’ve been given. I did truly believe that the best approach when it came to advertising your hotel would be to promote it as something classy and unique, with much more on offer than any more downmarket resorts that specifically appeal to singles, but I can see that you’re not really on board with that concept.’

‘How old are you?’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I’m curious because—and correct me if I’m wrong here—you’re in the service industry and yet you’re allowing your own personal prejudices to get in the way. I’m finding it hard to believe that a woman in her twenties, which is what I’m assuming you are, can be so morally upright that she digs her heels in at the thought of promoting a hotel where single people can have a bit of fun in agreeable surroundings.’

Ellie met his eyes without flinching. ‘I do think that romance can blossom in the sort of setting your hotel will provide, and I really do feel that that’s an important aspect that should be promoted, but I just don’t think I would be very good at producing an advertising campaign that focuses on people bed-hopping for two weeks.’

‘You make it sound as though sex is something distasteful.’ Niccolo was intrigued. She was so different from any other woman he had ever met that she could have come from another planet.

She was leaning towards him, hands gripping the sides of the chair. She had removed the frightful coat, although the jacket underneath was still firmly in place. Even so, he could still make out the white blouse and under it the shadowy silhouette of her jutting breasts.

His breathing slowed. His long lashes veiled his expression but there was a sudden stillness about him that betrayed a momentary lapse of control. The throb in his loins heralded a desire that was rock-hard and shocking because it was the last thing he’d expected. He shifted, sitting upright to try and release some of the painful pressure.

Any other woman might have tuned in to the shift in atmosphere, the crackle of electricity in the air, the tension that had settled between them, as taut as a piece of elastic pulled to breaking point.

Ms Eleanor Wilson didn’t. She was staring at him with wide-eyed earnestness. She leaned forward a little further and he glimpsed the tantalising valley of her cleavage.

Niccolo abruptly reared up, his whole body on fire as be began to pace his office in an attempt to get his runaway libido back under control.

‘I never said that sex was distasteful.’ Ellie breathed, disconcerted by the way the conversation had veered off course and all at sea as to how she could return it to safe moorings. ‘I do, however, think that a fortnight of sex isn’t a recipe for sad single people finding love.’

‘Why are my single guests sad?’ Niccolo wondered what her body looked like under the granny get-up. He had always been a big fan of the woman with obvious sex appeal. He liked to see what was on offer and, more than that, he liked knowing that the women he dated were savvy enough to know what was on the table and what wasn’t. Sex was on the table and commitment wasn’t.

Niccolo had made one wrong turn in his love life and, from that day on, he’d determined never to make another. Fresh out of university, and with a terminally ill family business that needed to be cobbled back together, he had looked to the girl he’d been dating for support. She’d only been on the scene for a handful of months, but she had been everything he had wanted in a woman, at that point in time.

Once the firm hand of his father had been lost, the family business had declined gracefully, like an elegant, well-bred woman ageing until she sadly became bedridden, waiting for the Grim Reaper to escort her away. It had been a gradual process that had seen the decline of their fortunes but Niccolo, even through the gradual decline, had still been privately educated and had still enjoyed the privileges of the upper-middle-class background which had given him the usual holidays abroad and, of course, the cultivated accent that Susie had claimed to adore. Darkly, sexily Italian but with the low, husky drawl of someone straight out of the upper drawer. The combination had fascinated her—had been so different from her own working-class background, which was something Niccolo had paid scant attention to.

But things had changed the minute he had divulged that the family inheritance was about to gasp its last breath. With money off the table, Susie had begun to change. It turned out that she was a lot less impressed by him than he had thought. It turned out that she had wanted the rich, young boy with a country pile and a flash apartment in Belgravia. As it turned out she very quickly found someone else who fitted the bill, someone who’d just so happened to be one of his closest friends.

Niccolo had forgiven his friend because he’d been spared a wolf in lamb’s clothing.

Susie had been sexy as hell and she had known exactly what to do with her plentiful assets.

But he had never forgiven her. Indeed, she had come crawling to him years later, when his face was all over the press as the young lion beginning to lead the pack, and he had derived a great deal of pleasure in dispatching her—although, in truth, he could have just as easily thanked her for the lesson she had taught him. She’d focused him. She’d reminded him that love was a distraction from the obligations he had sworn to fulfil. Sex wasn’t a distraction, sex was a physical release, and if he had a voracious appetite for it then he had no qualms about sating it with those willing women who weren’t ashamed to pursue him. They knew the score. He always made sure of that after that youthful hiccup. His personal life was controlled as efficiently as his public one.

When it came to women, Niccolo always knew what he was getting into.

‘I never said that your guests were sad,’ Ellie said, fervent and sincere. ‘But I do think that love isn’t something that can be manufactured by throwing people together for a couple of weeks. Love is something that takes time. You’re selling no-strings-attached sex and I... I...’

‘Don’t approve?’ Niccolo interjected helpfully. ‘Some might say that I’m doing a service for a certain sector of society who find it difficult to join the dating pool. No, wait, that’s not quite right—they find it very easy to join the dating pool. The only problem is that the pool is often full of sharks and piranha. My clients are in search of more tranquil waters.’

‘I’m not following you.’

‘The other agencies I interviewed—and you were lucky to be considered because I only interviewed a total of three—offered me precisely what they imagined was written on the can. A singles resort for people to meet one another. Sex on the beach, but in a more glamorous than average setting, and with the protagonists wearing expensive swim wear and designer sunglasses. I got the impression that they were advertising the sort of place they would personally find appealing themselves.’

‘I thought you wanted the obvious approach.’

‘I said I didn’t want a selection of tasteful shots of the seasonal menus on offer.’ He looked at her thoughtfully. ‘Tell me what landing this job would mean to you,’ he murmured. ‘You clearly have talent, likewise ambition, and you’re good at what you do. I’ve done my homework. It’s a small job, but it’s for me, and that in itself makes it a small but extremely worthwhile job. Am I right?’

Ellie looked down at her linked fingers. What he had just said was boldly, offensively arrogant but it had been said with such nonchalant self-assurance that she could only find herself meekly agreeing with his summary of the situation.

It was a small job in terms of exposure but huge in terms of possibilities. Which was why it had been so fabulous that their agency had been invited to pitch for it.

‘I see you get where I’m going with his. So tell me what it would mean to you, personally, if this job were to go to your agency. And I don’t want to hear any company spiel about your small but upwardly mobile business and how well you connect with the youth of today.’

‘Why does it matter what it would mean to me?’

Niccolo took his time in answering. She was in an office, he was in his suit. He could tell that thankfully the natural order of things had been restored. This was her comfort zone and she was in charge of the brief she was sworn to deliver.

‘Let’s just say that I’m curious and, since I’m the one with the chequebook, why don’t you humour me?’

‘For obvious reasons,’ Ellie said stiffly, ‘This would be a wonderful feather in my cap, and certainly cement my place as on a par with my partners who have both had more experience than myself. As you rightly said, it may not be the biggest of commissions, but you’re a big cheese, so there’s always the hope that other significant commissions might follow. It would be a brilliant CV builder for the agency and an even greater one for me.’

Niccolo’s eyebrows winged up. ‘The way you said big cheese doesn’t make it sound like a compliment. So, you get this job and you further prove yourself...’

‘Yes,’ Ellie told him flatly.

‘And your career means a great deal to you.’

‘It means everything to me.’ She met his dark gaze and held it. ‘Financial independence means everything to me. This job offers me a door through which the agency can enter and I want to see what’s on the other side of that door. So, that’s how much it means to me.’

Niccolo frowned, momentarily distracted. ‘What about all the usual things women your age busy themselves thinking about?’ He was astonished at how sexist he sounded, because he prided himself on providing equal opportunities for women, and was known for parity on every level when it came to hiring within his own companies. For heaven’s sake, he’d gone into this venture on the back of what one of his sisters had said in passing because he’d respected her opinion even though it didn’t happen to coincide with his.

‘I’m not following you, Mr Rossi.’

‘Marriage and children? You’re clearly ultra-conservative, but that doesn’t seem to tie in with the I’ll do anything for my career angle.’

‘I’m very focused on my career right now, Mr Rossi. I don’t have time for the sort of relationship that would lead to marriage and children.’

‘Interesting approach.’

‘Why interesting?’

‘You meet someone.’ Niccolo was fascinated by her approach, which roughly mirrored his. ‘And you discover you want a relationship because something is ignited. I didn’t think women spent much time working out how they could fit it into their work schedule but, forgive me, I’m digressing.’

When was the last time he’d done that?

‘What I am really interested in is finding out how flexible your schedule is and whether there is anyone on the scene who might impact on your flexibility or any urgent work commitments that cannot be temporarily diverted.’

‘I just don’t understand what you’re asking, Mr Rossi...’

‘I like what you’ve done, Ms Wilson. It may need a little tweaking, but the more I think about it the more I accept that there’s something to be said for the fading sunset shots. They’re tasteful. I can understand why you’re probably the queen of whimsy in your company. Unfortunately, you’ve brought personal issues to the table, and I’m getting the impression that because you disapprove of the concept of my hotel you would find it difficult to work in any changes that might be necessary.’

‘It’s my job to adapt to and interpret what the client wants,’ Ellie said, brain going overtime to work out where this was going.

‘Splendid reply!’

‘But what does that have to do with whether there’s anyone in my life who can impact on my job or whether I have other jobs on the go?’ Ellie looked at him with a perplexed frown.

‘I’m prepared to give your company a shot at this,’ Niccolo told her.

‘That’s wonderful! Although...’ She frowned. ‘You still haven’t answered my question.’ She hesitated, wishing she could read what was going through his head behind those deep, dark, shuttered eyes that were looking at her with the sort of lazy assessment that could make a person feel drugged and heavy-limbed. ‘And...’ She inhaled deeply. ‘I’m curious as to why you’ve decided to give us the job.’

‘Because you have backbone,’ Niccolo observed, enjoying the transparency of her face. ‘You happen to be off-target about my resort—and I can personally guarantee that all of my guests would be very much affronted at being written off as sad—but you didn’t allow me to cow you into saying what you thought I might want to hear.’

Ellie flushed with pleasure even though there was a lot to sift through in what he just said before she could reach the compliment. ‘I expect,’ she conceded, ‘That you must have that effect on people. They put themselves out to please you.’

Niccolo didn’t bother denying it.

‘The reason I asked you whether there was anyone in your life and whether you could be spared at work is because I feel that you might need convincing, first hand, of the product you’ll be commissioned to advertise. Put it this way—it’s no good trying to sell a bar of chocolate if you don’t like the stuff. How could the message possibly be sincere?’

‘Need convincing?’ Ellie wondered how Niccolo Rossi imagined that he could try and talk her into dumping her moral code. Did he think that people’s ingrained beliefs were interchangeable depending on the time of day? Or maybe he thought that he was so persuasive that it didn’t matter what someone believed in—if it didn’t happen to coincide with his beliefs, then he would be able to win them over because he was a smooth talker. Or just too plain sexy for his own good.

Her eyes drifted to the sensual curve of his mouth and she hurriedly looked away and mentally gathered her wits.

‘I don’t have to be convinced of anything to do a good job. I’m grateful for the opportunity to prove to you just what I can come up with. I think I’m getting an idea of what you want, and I want to reassure you that I will be able to deliver. I’m assuming that you have a deadline? I gather that the resort is due to open imminently. I assure you I will have no problem working to any deadline you care to set.’

‘I’m thrilled to hear that,’ Niccolo said dryly. ‘But, before you get too excited talking deadlines and delivery schedules, I feel we should sort out any potential crossed wires here.’ His dark eyes rested on her face with just a whisper of sardonic amusement. ‘I’m not asking you to make another appointment with my secretary for a follow-up meeting in a week’s time. I’m asking you to pay a little visit to my resort, see for yourself what it’s all about.’ Niccolo seldom did anything purely on impulse. This was impulsive.

He took a few seconds to savour the rare sensation of a woman clearly appalled at the prospect of having to endure time out in a six-star luxury resort, all expenses paid.

‘So, do you want the job? Then pack your bags, Ms Wilson.’ He smiled lazily, ‘I’ve been told that nothing beats a spot of winter sun...’

A Deal For Her Innocence

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