Читать книгу Modern Romance July 2016 Books 5-8 - Кейт Хьюит - Страница 9

CHAPTER ONE

LUCA MORETTI NEEDED a wife. Not a real one—heaven forbid he’d ever need that. No, he needed a temporary wife-to-be who was efficient, biddable, and discreet. A wife for the weekend.

‘Mr Moretti?’ His PA, Hannah Stewart, knocked once on the door before opening it and stepping inside his penthouse office overlooking a rain-washed Lombard Street in London’s City. ‘I have the letters for you to sign.’

Luca watched his PA walk towards him holding the sheaf of letters, her light brown hair neatly pulled back, her face set in calm lines. She wore a black pencil skirt, low heels, and a simple blouse of white silk. He’d never really bothered to notice his PA before, except at how quickly she could type and how discreet she could be when it came to unfortunate personal calls that occasionally came through to his office. Now he eyed her plain brown hair, and lightly freckled face that was pretty without being in any way remarkable. As for her figure...?

Luca let his gaze wander down his PA’s slender form. No breathtaking or bodacious curves, but it was passable.

Could he...?

She placed the letters in front of him and took a step back, but not before he caught a waft of her understated floral perfume. He reached for his fountain pen and began to scrawl his signature on each letter.

‘Will that be all, Mr Moretti?’ she asked when he’d finished the last one.

‘Yes.’ He handed her the letters and Hannah turned towards the door, her skirt whispering against her legs as she walked. Luca watched her, eyes narrowed, certainty settling in his gut. ‘Wait.’

Obedient as ever, Hannah pivoted back to face him, her pale eyebrows raised expectantly. She’d been a good PA these last three years, working hard and not making a fuss about it. He sensed ambition and willpower beneath her ‘aiming to please’ persona, and the weekend would require both qualities, as long as she agreed to the deception. Which he would make sure she did.

‘Mr Moretti?’

Luca lounged back in his chair as he drummed his fingers on his desk. He didn’t like lying. He’d been honest his whole life, proud of who he was even though so many had knocked him back, tried to keep him down. But this weekend was different. This weekend was everything to him, and Hannah Stewart was no more than a cog in his plans. A very important cog.

‘I have an important meeting this weekend.’

‘Yes, on Santa Nicola,’ Hannah replied. ‘Your ticket is in your passport wallet, and the limo is set to pick you up tomorrow morning at nine, from your flat. The flight leaves from Heathrow at noon.’

‘Right.’ He hadn’t known any of those details, but he’d expected Hannah to inform him. She really was quite marvellously efficient. ‘It turns out I’m going to need some assistance,’ he said.

Hannah’s eyebrows went a fraction higher, but her face remained calm. ‘Administrative assistance, you mean?’

Luca hesitated. He didn’t have time to explain his intentions now, and he suspected that his PA would balk at what he was about to ask. ‘Yes, that’s right.’ He could tell Hannah was surprised although she hid it well.

‘What exactly do you require?’

A wife. A temporary, compliant woman. ‘I require you to accompany me to Santa Nicola for the weekend.’ Luca hadn’t asked Hannah to accompany him on any business trips before; he preferred to travel and work alone, having been a solitary person from childhood. When you were alone you didn’t have to be on your guard, waiting for someone to trip you up. There were no expectations save the ones you put on yourself.

Luca knew that Hannah’s contract stipulated ‘extra hours or engagements as required’, and in the past she’d been willing to work long evenings, the occasional Saturday. He smiled, his eyebrows raised expectantly. ‘I trust that won’t be a problem?’ He would inform her later just what extra duties would be required.

Hannah hesitated, but only briefly, and then gave one graceful nod of her head. ‘Not at all, Mr Moretti.’

* * *

Hannah’s mind raced as she tried to figure out how to handle this unexpected request from her boss. In her three years of working for Luca Moretti, she’d never gone on a business trip with him. There had been the odd, or not so odd, late night; the occasional all-nighter where she supplied him with black coffee and popped caffeine pills to keep sharp as she took notes. But she’d never travelled with him. Never gone somewhere as exotic as a Mediterranean island for the weekend. The possibility gave her a surprising frisson of excitement; she’d thought she’d put her would-be travelling days behind her long ago.

‘Shall I book an extra ticket?’ she asked, trying to sound as efficient and capable as she always was.

‘Yes.’

She nodded, her mind still spinning. She needed to call her mother as soon as possible, make arrangements... ‘I’ll book an economy ticket—’

‘Why on earth would you do that?’ Luca demanded. He sounded irritated, and Hannah blinked in surprise.

‘I hardly think, as your PA, I’d need to travel first class, and the expense—’

‘Forget the expense.’ He cut her off, waving a hand in dismissal. ‘I’ll need you seated with me. I’ll work on the flight.’

‘Very well.’ She held the letters to her chest, wondering what else she’d need to do to prepare for such a trip. And wondering why Luca Moretti needed her on this trip when he hadn’t needed her on any other. She studied him covertly, lounging as he was in his office chair, his midnight-dark hair rumpled, his thick, straight brows drawn into frowning lines, one hand still drumming the top of his ebony desk.

He was an incredibly handsome man, a compelling, charismatic, driven man; one business magazine had called him ‘an elegant steamroller’. Hannah thought the nickname apt; Luca Moretti could turn on the charm, but it was only to get what he wanted. She’d observed him from the sidelines for three years and learned how to be the most efficient PA possible, and invisible when necessary. She liked her job; she liked Luca’s force of personality, his boundless energy for his work. She’d always admired his determined work ethic, his drive for success. She might only be a PA, but she shared that drive, if not quite to the same degree.

‘Very well,’ she said now. ‘I’ll make the arrangements.’ Luca nodded her dismissal and Hannah left his office, expelling her breath in a rush as she sat down at her desk. She and Luca were the only occupants of the top floor of his office building, and she appreciated the quiet to organise her thoughts.

First things first. She called the airline and booked an additional first-class ticket for herself, wincing at the expense even though Luca Moretti could well afford it. As CEO of his own real-estate development empire, he could have afforded his own jet.

That done, she quickly emailed her mother. She would have called, but Luca forbade personal calls from the office, and Hannah had always obeyed the rules. This job meant too much to her to flaunt them. She’d just hit Send when Luca emerged from his office, shrugging on his suit jacket and checking his watch.

‘Mr Moretti?’

‘You’ll need suitable clothes for this weekend.’

Hannah blinked. ‘Of course.’

‘I don’t mean that.’ Luca gestured to her clothes, and Hannah was unable to keep from looking down at her professional yet understated outfit. She took pride in how she dressed, and she made sure to buy as high quality clothes as she could afford.

‘I’m sorry...?’

‘This weekend is as much a social occasion as a business one,’ he explained tersely. ‘You’ll need appropriate clothing—evening gowns and the like.’

Evening gowns? She certainly didn’t have any of those in her wardrobe, and couldn’t imagine the need for them. ‘As your PA—’

‘As my PA you need to be dressed appropriately. This isn’t going to be a board meeting.’

‘What is it, exactly? Because I’m not sure—’

‘Think of it more as a weekend house party with a little business thrown in.’

Which made it even more mystifying as to why he needed her along.

‘I’m afraid I don’t own any evening gowns—’ Hannah began, and Luca shrugged her words aside.

‘That’s easy enough to take care of.’ He slid his smartphone out of his pocket and thumbed a few buttons before speaking rapidly in Italian. Although she heard the occasional familiar word, Hannah had no idea what he’d said or who he’d called.

A few minutes later he disconnected the call and nodded towards Hannah. ‘Sorted. You’ll accompany me to Diavola after work.’

‘Diavola...?’

‘You know the boutique?’

She’d heard of it. It was an incredibly high-end fashion boutique in Mayfair. She might have walked past the elegant sashed windows once, seen a single dress hanging there in an elegant fall of shimmery silk, no price tag visible.

She swallowed hard, striving to seem calm, as if this whole, unexpected venture hadn’t completely thrown her. ‘That might be a bit out of my price range—’

‘I will pay, of course.’ His brows snapped together as he frowned at her. ‘It’s all part of the business expense. I’d hardly expect you to buy a gown you’ll only be wearing because of your work.’

‘Very well.’ She tried not to squirm under his fierce gaze. She felt as if he was examining her and she was not meeting his expectations, which was disconcerting, as she always had before. She took pride in how well she performed her job. Luca Moretti had never had any cause to criticise her. ‘Thank you.’

‘We’ll leave in an hour,’ Luca said, and strode back into his office.

Hannah spent a frantic hour finishing up her work and making arrangements for the trip, ensuring that each part of the journey could accommodate an extra passenger. She knew Luca was staying with his client, hotelier Andrew Tyson, and she hesitated to contact the man directly to make sure there was an extra bedroom. It seemed a bit cheeky, asking for a room for herself in the tycoon’s luxurious villa, but what else could she do?

She was just composing an email to Andrew Tyson’s PA when Luca came out of his office, shrugging into his suit jacket, his face settling into a frown as he caught sight of her.

‘Aren’t you ready?’

‘I’m sorry, I’m just emailing Mr Tyson’s PA—’

His frown deepened. ‘What for?’

‘To arrange for an extra bedroom—’

‘That won’t be necessary,’ Luca said swiftly, and then leaned over and closed her laptop with a snap.

Hannah stared at him, too surprised to mask the emotion. ‘But if I don’t email—’

‘It’s taken care of.’

‘It is?’

‘Don’t question me, Hannah. And in future please leave all communications with Mr Tyson to me.’

Stung, she recoiled a bit at his tone. ‘I’ve always—’

‘This negotiation is delicate. I’ll explain the particulars later. Now let’s go. I have a lot of things to do tonight besides buy you some clothes.’

Her cheeks burned at his dismissive tone. Her boss was often restless and impatient, but he wasn’t rude. Was it her fault that her wardrobe wasn’t that of a socialite? Wordlessly she rose from her desk and took her laptop, about to slide it into her messenger bag.

‘Leave that.’

‘My laptop?’ She stared at him, flummoxed. ‘But I’ll need it if we’re to work on the plane—’

‘It won’t be necessary.’

A finger of unease crept along her spine. Something felt very off about this weekend, and yet she could not imagine what it was. ‘Mr Moretti, I don’t understand...’

‘What is there to understand? You’re accompanying me on a weekend that is as much a social occasion as it is a business one. I’m asking you to use some sensitivity and discretion, as the situation is delicate. Is that beyond your capabilities, Miss Stewart?’

Her face burned at being given such a dressing-down. ‘No, of course not.’

‘Good.’ He nodded towards the lift doors. ‘Now let’s go.’

Stiff with affront, Hannah took her coat and followed Luca to the lift. She waited, staring straight ahead, trying to master her irritation, until the doors pinged open and Luca gestured for her to go in first. She did so, and as he followed her she was conscious in an entirely new way of how he filled the space of the lift. Surely they’d ridden in the lift together before, many times. Yet now, as Luca stabbed the button for the ground floor, she felt how big he was. How male. His shoulders strained the seams of his suit jacket, and his rangy, restless energy made the very air seem as if it were charged. She snuck a glance at his profile, the square jaw shadowed with stubble, the straight nose and angular cheekbones. Long, surprisingly lush lashes, and hard, dark eyes.

Hannah knew women flocked to Luca Moretti. They were attracted to his air of restless remoteness as much as his blatant sexuality and effortless charisma. Perhaps they fooled themselves into thinking they could tame or trap him; no one ever could. Hannah had kept more than one tearful beauty from her boss’s door. He never thanked her for that little service; he acted as if the women who practically threw themselves at him didn’t exist, at least not outside the bedroom. Or so Hannah assumed—she had no idea how Luca Moretti acted in the bedroom.

Just the thought sent a blush heating her cheeks now, even though she was still annoyed with his uncharacteristically terse attitude. High-handed she could take, when it was tempered with wry charm and grace. But Luca Moretti merely barking out orders was hard to stomach.

Thankfully the doors opened and they left the confined space of the lift, Luca ushering her out into the impressive marble foyer of Moretti Enterprises. A receptionist bid them good day and then they were out in the rain-washed streets, the damp air cooling her face, the twilight hiding her blush.

A limo pulled to the kerb the moment they stepped out, and Luca’s driver jumped out to open the door.

‘After you,’ Luca said, and Hannah slid inside the luxurious interior. Luca followed, his thigh nudging hers before he shifted closer to the window.

Hannah couldn’t resist stroking the buttery soft leather of the seat. ‘I’ve never been in a limo before,’ she admitted, and Luca cocked an eyebrow at her.

‘Never?’

‘No.’ Why would she? He might travel in this sort of style all over the world, but she stayed firmly on the top floor of Moretti Enterprises. Of course, she’d seen plenty of luxury from a distance. She’d ordered champagne to celebrate his business deals, heard the pop of the cork in the meeting room down from his office. She’d booked dozens of first-class tickets and five-star hotel rooms, had instructed concierges around the world on Luca Moretti’s preferences: no lilies in any flower arrangements in his suite and sheets with a five hundred thread count. She’d just never experienced any of that expense or luxury herself. ‘I haven’t stayed in a five-star hotel or flown first class either,’ she informed him a bit tartly. Not everyone was as privileged as he was. ‘I haven’t even tasted champagne.’

‘Well, you can enjoy some of that this weekend,’ Luca said, and turned to stare out of the window, the lights from the traffic casting his face in a yellow wash. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said abruptly. ‘I know I must seem...tense.’

Hannah eyed him warily. ‘Ye—es...’

He turned to her with a small, rueful smile. ‘I think that was an inward “you’ve been an absolute rotter”.’ His expression softened, his gaze sweeping over her, lashes lowering in a way that made Hannah feel the need to shift in her seat. ‘I am sorry.’

‘Why are you so tense?’

‘As I said before, this weekend is delicate.’ He turned back to the window, one long-fingered hand rubbing his jaw. ‘Very delicate.’

Hannah knew better than to press. She had no idea why this business deal was so delicate; as far as she could tell, the chain of family resort hotels Luca was planning to take over was a relatively small addition to his real-estate portfolio.

The limo pulled up to Diavola, the windows lit although it was nearly seven o’clock at night. Hannah suppressed a shiver of apprehension. How was this supposed to work? Would she choose the dress, or would her boss? She’d done many things for Luca Moretti, but she hadn’t bought herself an evening gown for him. She didn’t relish the idea of parading clothes in front of him, but maybe he’d just let her choose a gown and get on with it.

Of course he would. He was already impatient, wanting to get onto the next thing; Luca Moretti wasn’t going to entertain himself watching his PA try on different dresses. Comforted by this thought, Hannah slid out of the limo.

Luca followed her quickly, placing one hand on her elbow. The touch shocked her; Luca never touched her. Not so much as a hug or a pat on the back in three years of working for him. Hannah had always got the sense that he was a solitary man, despite the parade of women through his life, and she hadn’t minded because she appreciated the focus on work. She didn’t have room in her life for much else.

Now Luca kept his hand on her elbow as he guided her into the boutique, and then slid it to the small of her back as a shop assistant came forward. Hannah felt as if he were branding her back, his palm warm through the thin material of her skirt, his fingers splayed so she could feel the light yet firm pressure of each one. His pinkie finger reached the curve of her bottom, and her whole body stiffened in response as a treacherous flash of heat jolted through her.

‘I would like a complete wardrobe for the weekend for my companion,’ he said to the woman, who batted over-mascaraed lashes at him. ‘Evening gowns, day wear, a swimming costume, nightgown, underthings.’ He glanced at the gold and silver watch on one wrist. ‘In under an hour.’

‘Very good, Mr Moretti.’

Underthings? Hannah felt she had to object. ‘Mr Moretti, I don’t need all those things,’ she protested in a low voice. She certainly didn’t need her boss to buy her a bra. She felt the pressure on the small of her back increase, so she could feel the joints of each of his fingers.

‘Humour me. And why don’t you call me Luca?’ Her jaw nearly dropped at this suggestion. He’d never invited such intimacy before. ‘You’ve been working for me for what, three years?’ he murmured so only she could hear, his head close enough to hers that she breathed in the cedarwood-scented aftershave he wore. When she turned her head she could see the hint of stubble on his jaw. ‘Perhaps we should progress to first names...Hannah.’

For some reason her name on his lips made her want to shiver. She stepped away from his hand, her body bizarrely missing the warmth and pressure of it as soon as it had gone.

‘Very well.’ Yet she couldn’t quite make herself call him Luca. It seemed so odd, so intimate, after three years of starchy formality and respectable distance. Why was Luca shaking everything up now?

The sales assistant was collecting various garments from around the boutique, and another had come forward to usher them both to a U-shaped divan in cream velvet. A third was bringing flutes of champagne and caviar-topped crackers.

Luca sat down, clearly accustomed to all this luxury, and the sales assistant beckoned to Hannah.

‘If the signorina will come this way...?’

Numbly Hannah followed the woman into a dressing room that was larger than the entire upstairs of her house.

‘First this?’ the woman suggested, holding up an evening gown in pale blue chiffon and satin. It was the most exquisite thing Hannah had ever seen.

‘Okay,’ she said, and, feeling as if she were in a surreal dream, she started to unbutton her blouse.