Читать книгу The Lady's Man - Stephanie Howard - Страница 8
ОглавлениеCHAPTER ONE
CATERINA was furious. White-knuckle furious. As she marched down the corridor like some unstoppable human tornado, her glossy light brown bob swinging in time to her fury, there was no doubt about it, she was spoiling for a fight.
‘How dare he?’ she was muttering. ‘I’ve had enough of his interfering!’ Her fists were clenched, her blue eyes sparking. ‘Well, this time I’m putting my foot down! He’s not getting away with it!’
Luckily the corridor down which she was marching was empty. The only eyes and ears to bear witness to her tirade were the unseeing, unhearing ones depicted in the portraits—of bishops and princes and generals of old—that hung in their carved frames from the silk-upholstered walls. For the corridor in question was the splendid west-wing corridor of the fabulous Palazzo Verde, home for three hundred years of the illustrious Montecrespis, hereditary rulers of the little dukedom of San Rinaldo—the west wing being where the current Duke had his private quarters.
Generally, it must be said, visitors to the Duke’s private office—for that was where Caterina was currently headed—tended to proceed down the corridor at a more respectful pace and quite often with a sense of awe at their surroundings. But Caterina, at this moment, was feeling far from respectful and she was unlikely to be awed for she was used to these surroundings. For the man she was on her way to see, His Grace, the Duke- of San Rinaldo, just so happened to be her brother.
Not that her feelings right now were particularly sisterly either. As she reached the panelled door that led to his office, she flung it open impatiently and strode across the threshold.
‘Damiano!’ she bellowed. ‘I’ve got a bone to pick with you!’
The only person in the room, however, was Rosa, Damiano’s pretty young secretary. She’d been sitting at her desk, quietly working at her word processor, but she leapt to her feet now like a poor startled frog.
‘Lady Caterina, I’m sorry,’ she started to explain, curtsying, ‘but I’m afraid His Grace isn’t here at the moment.’
Normally Caterina would have chastised her for curtsying, for she had told her a hundred times that it really wasn’t necessary. But right now she had other, more pressing matters on her mind.
‘Isn’t here?’ She swept furiously across the huge room, totally disregarding what Rosa had just told her, and thrust her head round the door of his private inner office. ‘He’s got to be here! I made an appointment!’
But, appointment or not, there was definitely no Damiano, though Caterina continued to stand in the doorway for a moment, her china-blue eyes angrily scouring every corner as though she might detect him hiding under the carpet.
‘Damn him!’ she muttered. ‘He knew I was coming!’
Then she turned back to Rosa, scowling like a gorgon. ‘Where has he gone? What’s going on here? Why didn’t somebody let me know?’
Poor Rosa, who took pride in being the very soul of efficiency and who had never seen Caterina in such a ferocious mood before—the Duke’s twenty-five-year-old sister was normally easygoing and friendly-blushed in dismay at this implicit accusation.
‘I—I don’t know, m’lady,’ she stuttered. ‘I wasn’t told anything. I—’
But that was as far as she got. She was stopped in her tracks as a male voice said, ‘Don’t worry about it, Rosa. I’ll take charge of things from here.’
The two young women turned as one in the direction of the speaker, who was standing in the doorway that led from the west-wing corridor. And as their eyes fell on his dark, commanding figure one of them smiled and one of them did not.
The one who did not was Caterina. Well, one didn’t generally smile at the sudden appearance of a viper, and a viper was precisely what Caterina saw as she looked, with a rush of loathing, into Matthew Allenby’s face.
If he was a viper, however, he was a viper with biceps, for Matthew Allenby positively exuded ruthless power. Tall and muscularly built, he possessed an arrogant self-assurance that shone, as sharp as a razor, from the iron-grey eyes. Eyes that could stop you in your tracks with just the force of a single glance.
He could also stop you in your tracks just with the way he looked. For, as even Caterina would not have denied, he really was quite outrageously attractive. Dark hair, thick and glossy, wide, sensual mouth, the lines of his tanned face sculpted and powerful. And he had an aura of danger and mystery about him that most women, Caterina suspected, found irresistibly seductive.
Most women, that was, very definitely excluding her! Though as she looked at him now and he met her eyes and smiled at her with that habitual air of casual superiority she felt, as always, the threat of the danger that lurked in him and knew it would be wise to keep him safely at arm’s length. She loathed him but she found him deeply unsettling.
She flicked him a cool look. ‘So you plan on taking charge? Well, I’m sorry, Mr Allenby, but you’ll be doing no such thing.’
‘Forgive me, Lady Caterina, but I rather think I will.’
As he addressed her, as protocol demanded he inclined his head slightly, but the amused, superior smile not for one moment left his face. He had this knack, as Caterina had noted on many occasions, of going through the motions of showing the respect due to her position—for she had most assuredly never told him not to bother with the formalities!—while apparently showing not a crumb of respect for her personally. Abominable man, she thought now, her skin prickling with antipathy.
There were a number of reasons why Caterina loathed Matthew Allenby. For a start, he was arrogant and too clever by half. He was a shameless social climber and he had too much influence over her brother.
An Englishman of unknown origins, for his background was swathed in mystery, he had come to San Rinaldo just under a year ago to advise on some building projects that the Duke was involved in. For, though still only in his mid-thirties, he was an internationally renowned architect, though Caterina had heard stories that he’d got where he was by ruthlessly sticking knives into the backs of his rivals.
At any rate, his association with the Duke had strengthened. Pretty soon, it seemed, he was spending far more time here, in the sunny little Mediterranean dukedom of San Rinaldo, than he spent in his own, more rainy homeland. But, though she detested all he was, this wouldn’t normally have bothered Caterina, for her path and Matthew’s very rarely crossed, in spite of the fact that, in addition to his town office, these days he also had an office at the palace.
No, the reason why she detested him was much more personal. For it was thanks to Matthew Allenby that, last September, she’d lost the love of someone who meant the world to her.
Thinking back on that time, she fixed him with a steely look as he turned with that maddeningly easy smile he could switch on and proceeded to address the still bewildered-looking Rosa.
‘It must be about your lunchtime? Perhaps you wouldn’t mind leaving us? Lady Caterina and I have things to discuss.’
‘Of course, Mr Allenby. Right away.’
Caterina noted how the girl flushed with pleasure beneath his gaze as she switched off her computer and reached for her bag. Clearly she was one of those women who found him irresistible, who failed to see the viper beneath the good looks and potent charm.
Though it wasn’t only women Matthew Allenby conned. Men, too, were taken in by that powerful aura of his. Even the normally astute Duke, for some inexplicable reason, failed to see him for the self-seeking hypocrite he was. Damiano treated him like a friend, when really he was no friend. He only courted the royal family to gain influence and social standing.
Caterina waited until Rosa had taken her leave of them, then she turned, with a frosty little smile to face him.
‘You know, you really needn’t have bothered getting rid of Rosa. I don’t know what you think we could possibly have to discuss. I came to see my brother but, since he’s not here, I shall simply come back and see him later.’
And so saying, she swung round and headed for the door.
‘Suit yourself.’
Quite unperturbed, Matthew watched her departure. He had known she would react like this for he knew what she thought of him and, quite frankly, her antipathy didn’t matter to him a damn. He let his eyes sweep. unhurriedly over her willowy figure, dressed in a simple straight blue skirt and a matching round-necked top, as informal and casually elegant as her glossy light brown bob. She was so unassuming in some ways, so impossible in others, with a wild streak he sometimes thought it might be amusing to tame.
But, right now, they had other business on hand.
As she was about to disappear back out into the corridor, he observed to her back, ‘You seem to be unaware that your brother has assigned me to deal with the problem you came to see him about. That’s why I’m here. I understood it was urgent.’
‘You?’
Stopping in her tracks, Caterina swung round to glare at him.
‘You?’ she ground out again. ‘My brother assigned you? Well, maybe I don’t want my problem dealt with by you!’
‘Maybe you have no choice.’
‘Oh?’ Such arrogance! ‘And says who?’
Matthew looked back at her without a flicker. ‘Maybe that’s just the way it is.’
Normally, Caterina’s complexion was creamy and flawless, a perfect luminous foil for her china-blue eyes, which, most of the time, were filled with warmth and humour. But two angry red spots had risen to her cheeks now and her eyes were as warm and humorous as chips of ice. Even her soft-lipped mouth, which smiled and laughed so easily—though it had done its fair share of crying in recent months—was drawn into an uncharacteristic tight, angry line. Matthew really did have the worst possible effect on her.
She replied between her teeth, ‘Well, I’m afraid it’s not the way it is.’ She would stick needles in her eyes before she would discuss her business with Matthew Allenby! And she turned sharply away to resume her interrupted exit.
But then Matthew spoke again. ‘I think I should warn you that your brother has handed over the or ganisation of the garden party to me.’
As he paused, Caterina swung round again, just as he’d known she would. She glared at him, daggers flying from her eyes.
Quite unfazed, he continued, ‘That’s why I said you had no choice—for it was about some problem relating to the garden party that you wished to see your brother, I believe?’
He believed correctly, and it was intolerable that he should be aware of her business. Caterina said nothing for a moment, just glared at him furiously, wishing she had the power, simply with a look, to make him melt like a disagreeable blob into the carpet.
But there seemed little hope of that. All too physically substantial, he continued to stand there by the open doorway. Then, with a shrug, he observed, ‘But maybe it wasn’t important.’ And, with that, apparently dismissing both her and her problem as of no further interest to him whatsoever, he proceeded to cross the room, right in front of her, heading for the door to the Duke’s inner sanctum.
Damned impertinence! ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ No one was allowed in there without her brother’s permission!
Matthew totally ignored her admonition. Even as she stood there, bristling with indignation, he pushed the door open and disappeared inside.
Caterina was after him like a shot. ‘Excuse me! If you don’t mind...!’ But in the open doorway she paused and blinked in disbelief. This was too much, surely, even for the monstrous Matthew Allenby?
He was standing by the huge carved mahogany desk that stood beneath a painting of Rino, the capital city, executed by the Italian master Canaletto during a visit to San Rinaldo in 1739. And he was picking up a pile of papers that lay there on the desk and riffling through them as bold as brass!
Not even Caterina would have had the nerve to do such a thing. No, not nerve. Nerve didn’t come into it, she corrected herself swiftly. What this was was a case of barefaced insolence!
‘Put those papers down at once!’ She was hurtling towards him. ‘How dare you? Nobody touches the Duke’s private papers!’
He did not put them down. He did not even deign to look at her. He just continued, unperturbed, with his insolent riffling.
‘Didn’t you hear what I said?’
‘Yes, I heard.’
And still he riffled.
‘Then why don’t you do as I tell you? Put those papers down this instant!’
She was standing right next to him, her eyes on his hands, which hadn’t so much as paused in their insolent work, and suddenly she noticed something she’d never noticed before. He had exceedingly beautiful hands. Sinuous and very masculine, with long, dexterous fingers, sure and swift in their movements.
But what the devil was she doing admiring his hands? A little shocked at herself, Caterina flicked her eyes to his face, with its high, sculpted cheekbones and arrogantly curved nose.
‘Mr Allenby, I’m warning you. Put those papers down at once!’
‘I’ll put them down, Lady Caterina, when I find what I’m looking for.’
Still he did not look at her. Still his fingers kept on searching.
It was too much for Caterina. ‘I said put them down!’ And she reached out angrily to snatch the papers from him.
‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you.’
Her hand never even made contact with the papers. Quick as a flash, Matthew caught her firmly by the wrist, his grip a band of steel pinning her to the spot, making something flare hotly and unexpectedly inside her.
‘We don’t want your brother’s papers getting damaged, do we?’ The iron-grey eyes pierced through her like bayonets. ‘And let’s get something straight.’ His tone was as taut as a crossbow. ‘I don’t take orders from anyone, and very definitely not from you. I work for your brother. He hired me to do jobs for him. And you, I’m afraid, my dear Lady Caterina, don’t enter into the picture at all.’
There was no trace of the famous Matthew Allenby charm now. What she was seeing was the real man, ruthless and dangerous, though this was only the civilised tip of the iceberg, of course. Caterina felt a shiver touch her spine at the thought of the dark savagery beneath.
Yet she did not back down. She tossed her glossy bobbed head at him. ‘That’s where you’re wrong! I do enter into the picture! As his sister, I have a duty to protect the Duke’s interests. You have no right to go rummaging through his private papers!’
‘I’m sorry but I do. Every right, as it happens. Your brother asked me to pick up certain papers from his desk and that is precisely what I’m doing.’
He continued to hold her, his fingers cool around her wrist. ‘So, you see, all your moral outrage is really quite misplaced.’
Was he telling the truth? Caterina suspected that he probably was. After all, she knew how thick he’d become with Damiano, exerting his evil influence all over the place—even on such unlikely matters as her love life, as she already knew to her painful cost. Yes, she decided reluctantly, he probably was in the right.
But only as regards her brother’s papers. Regarding another small matter he had-definitely overstepped the mark.
She narrowed her blue eyes at him and a little belatedly demanded, ‘And now, if you don’t mind, kindly let go of my arm!’
‘My pleasure.’ With an amused smile he released her instantly. ‘Now,’ he observed calmly, ‘I can finish what I was doing.’ And, turning away, he resumed his search through the papers.
Caterina watched him, hating him, though there was this much to be said for him—at least she knew exactly where she stood with him. For he clearly disliked her every bit as much as she disliked him. And, strangely, there was a perverse satisfaction to be had in the way they were able to clash so openly.
Still, they had never before clashed quite so openly as now—and certainly never with such unleashed physicality. Feeling that band of steel around her arm again, she shivered. Savage! she thought. How dared he lay a hand on her? The only reason why she hadn’t demanded instantly that he release her was that she’d been so taken aback at the insolent black nerve of him.
‘Here it is.’ Matthew had found the document he’d been looking for. As he drew it out of the pile and laid the pile back on the desk, he cast her an amused look from the corner of his eye. ‘Funnily enough,’ he observed, ‘this is a report concerning the garden party. The very event you wished to see me about.’
‘Not you. My brother.’
‘Ah, yes, your brother. Well, in this particular case, that amounts to the same thing. As I told you, he’s put me in charge of the arrangements.’
‘Congratulations. That’s quite a coup.’ Her tone was cutting. ‘You’ll be taking over his duties as head of state next.’
‘I’m afraid I couldn’t spare the time.’ The gibe simply amused him. He held her eyes for a moment, enjoying her frustration—was there no way she could ruffle this wretched man’s feathers? Then he continued, ‘Your brother felt the garden party needed a new look this year. And I’m more than happy to take on the job.’
No doubt he was. The annual Montecrespi garden party, held each year in mid-July to celebrate the Duke’s birthday, was one of the highlights of the European social calendar. Guests flocked from far and wide—from the United States, even Australia—for the honour of drinking vintage champagne and eating smoked salmon and truffles and wild strawberries, while at the same time rubbing shoulders with princes and earls, ambassadors and prime ministers and the cream of the entertainment world.
For as long as Caterina could remember, the transformation of the palace gardens into a suitable venue for this starry event—which had always been held in July, for the old Duke’s birthday had been then too—had been left in the capable hands of Baron Igor. But the old man had recently died and someone was needed to fill his shoes. Caterina had been aware of this, but she certainly hadn’t known that Matthew Allenby had been assigned to the job.
A sad thought struck her. In previous years she would have known. But these days she and Damiano were not so close any more—all thanks to the débâcle over her love life last September, a débâcle created by Matthew Allenby. And she found herself reflecting, not for the first time, that she would very much like to pay him back for that.
She told him now, disparagingly, ‘Well, like I said, congratulations—though I must say I’m surprised you were given the job. I wouldn’t have thought it was quite in your line.’
‘No, it isn’t, I suppose. It’s not strictly architecture. But I quite enjoy getting involved in a bit of simple design from time to time. And it won’t be too demanding. I’ll be able to fit it in between other things.’
Of course. She had forgotten. This was Matthew Allenby, the human dynamo, who never had fewer than a score of projects running at any one time. In another man she would have admired the sheer energy and scope of him, but in Matthew Allenby it was simply one more aspect to despise. Especially since she knew—though of course he was unaware of this—that some of the projects in which he was involved were of a rather dubious legitimacy.
Oh, yes, she knew things about him he had no idea she knew!
‘Well, that’s all very interesting.’ She smiled cut-tingly as she said it, just in case he might delude himself that she actually meant it. ‘However, you were wrong to assume that my problem concerning the garden party falls within your sphere of influence. You see, it was nothing to do with the design side of things that I wanted to speak to my brother about.’
She delivered him a cool look. He wasn’t as omnipotent as he liked to think!
Or maybe he was. With a cool look of his own he informed her, ‘I think you’ll find that it probably does concern me. You see, it’s not just the design side of things I’ve been put in charge of. Your brother has asked me to handle the whole lot.’
‘The whole lot?’
‘From top to bottom.’
Caterina narrowed her eyes at him. ‘But surely not,’ she insisted, ‘including the guest list as well?’
‘Yes, I’m afraid so.’ He smiled at her look of horror. ‘I’ve been put in charge of the guest list as well.’
But this was monstrous! Suddenly speechless, she blinked at him. The guest list to the annual Montecrespi garden party was virtually a sanctified roll of honour. There were some who would have sold their souls—and their mothers twice over—for the privilege of being on it!
The way it had always worked was that each member of the royal family submitted a list of proposed guests for the Duke’s approval and Damiano then made the final decision. Handing over this responsibility to Matthew Allenby, number one crook and social climber, struck Caterina as being about as wise as setting a wolf to guard a chicken coop!
Though it did, of course, explain why she had a problem. And mentally she kicked herself. She ought to have guessed he was involved!
She glared at him. ‘Well,’ she said. ‘I find this astonishing.’ Then as he looked back at her impassively, quite unmoved by her astonishment, she put to him in a tight tone, ‘Tell me something... The lists that were submitted by the rest of the family... were there any problems? Were their proposed guests approved or not?’
Matthew knew what she was leading up to, but he gave no hint of this as he replied, ‘The Duchess’s list was certainly approved without any problem.’ He was referring to Sofia, Damiano’s beautiful young wife, mother of the couple’s eight-month-old son.
‘And Leone’s?’
Count Leone was Caterina’s second brother, once known as an incorrigible playboy but now a happily married man.
Matthew nodded, still revealing nothing. ‘I believe the Count’s also went through without any problem.’
‘Very interesting. And the Countess’s?’
‘No problem at all.’
‘I see. So everyone else’s went through without a hitch... Then how come,’ she demanded, ‘there was a problem with mine?’
Matthew regarded her for a moment. Then he told her in a flat tone, ‘I’m afraid you included some rather unsuitable people.’
‘Unsuitable in whose eyes?’
‘In mine,’ he responded. ‘As I know they would also have been in your brother’s.’ And as he looked at her his eyes warned her not to pursue this subject further.
Caterina saw the warning and deliberately ignored it. ‘Exactly in what way are they unsuitable?’ she demanded.
‘They had certain connections.’ There was an edge of steel to his tone now. ‘Certain connections which sadly rendered them quite unsuitable to be guests at a royal garden party.’
Liar! If anyone was unsuitable it was him! But these people who had been so peremptorily crossed off her list—as she had discovered only this morning, with the party just two weeks away—had been friends of Orazio, her ex-boyfriend. And that, as she well knew, was sufficient reason for Matthew’s veto.
She thought of an old saying: my enemy’s friend is my enemy. Well, Orazio had certainly been Matthew Allenby’s enemy, for he had dared to try and expose him for the two-faced scoundrel that he was. Little wonder then that Matthew, who had so much to hide, should prefer to keep his enemy’s friends at a distance.
Caterina looked at him now, full of anger and loathing. Because he knew how to fight dirty and because he had the ear of Damiano, he had triumphed easily over Orazio, disgracing him and putting an end to his romance with Caterina and turning Caterina’s life upside-down in the process.
Damn him! Suddenly she’d had enough of this unpleasant confrontation. In a cold voice she informed him, ‘I intend to take this up with my brother. I shall have your judgement overturned and these people will be invited to the party.’
Matthew did not argue.
‘That’s entirely up to you.’
But as she looked into his eyes Caterina had a feeling that he was probably already plotting how best to thwart her. That prompted her to inform him, just to defy him further, ‘I shall make a point of having a word with him this very evening. The sooner this is dealt with the better, I feel. Yes, I shall speak to him before I go off to the Bardi dinner.’
As she added that last bit she couldn’t resist a smile. She had briefly forgotten about the Bardi dinner that was to be held in the Town Hall with herself as hostess this evening. A sumptuous affair, the purpose of the dinner was to celebrate the awarding of an important new contract to build an extension to the Bardi Home for Disabled Children, one of the many charities of which Caterina was patron. And the reason why she had smiled was that she knew something that Matthew Allenby was unaware of. Something that would not please him in the slightest when he found out.
Feigning innocent curiosity, she tilted her head at him. ‘Will you be attending the Bardi dinner?’ she enquired. Though, knowing what she knew, she was pretty certain he would not.
Matthew, who did not know what she knew, nodded. ‘I might.’
‘And the presentation this afternoon?’
‘Yes, I think that will be interesting. I shall definitely go along to that.’
Of course he would! He wouldn’t miss it for the world! For Caterina happened to know that he had secretly entered the contest that had been held for the Bardi extension contract—secretly, for he had entered under the name of Tad UK, one of his lesser-known companies in London. And he would be there at the presentation this afternoon, when it would be Caterina’s happy duty to announce the name of the winner, no doubt expecting, in his arrogance, that the winner would be him.
For the name of the winner had not been made public. Not even the winning company knew yet that it’d won—which was why all the contestants had been invited to attend the presentation, as well as the celebratory dinner this evening. And today’s announcement of the winner was going to be a really big event.
It was also going to be a thoroughly demoralising one for Matthew Allenby, for though he thought himself incredibly clever he had come nowhere near winning. Caterina smiled at that thought. It was deeply cheering, as also was the fact that he would not be at the dinner. For she knew very well that a man of Matthew Allenby’s towering self-importance was scarcely likely to want to show his face in defeat.
She threw him an oblique look now. ‘Yes, it will definitely be interesting.’ Then, out of sheer badness, savouring his imminent humiliation—for an architect of his standing didn’t enter such a contest, even anonymously, unless he intended winning—she added, ‘The winning design is really quite superb.’
He was watching her with a curious look. ‘Of course, you know who the winner is.’
‘Indeed I do. I was on the panel that did the choosing.’
And the rejecting, she thought with a twist of satisfaction, though she had rejected his design—as had the rest of the panel—not because it was his, for they had only discovered the connection later, but simply because it quite genuinely wasn’t good enough. Still, when she had found out, it had given her an immense amount of pleasure.
Mock-innocently now, she added, just to stir him up a bit, ‘It’s a foreign company. One we’d never heard of. And, like I said, the design is really quite brilliant. It’ll be my privilege to finally meet their representative this afternoon and present him or her with the contract for the extension.’
. Matthew smiled a shuttered smile. ‘You’re making me curious,’ he told her. ‘I shall be watching the proceedings now with even more interest.’
Caterina smiled back at him sweetly. And I’ll be watching you, she was thinking. And it will be my inestimable pleasure to see the look on your face when I stand up on the podium and announce the winner.
As she turned to go, there was a cheerful spring in her step. The day was turning out not so badly after all.
The atmosphere was electric as the seven members of the panel, with Caterina at their head, dressed in a butter-yellow dress, stepped out to loud applause onto the stage.
And as she looked out over the rows of faces—for the hall was packed to the gunnels—Caterina felt a fierce thrust of excitement and satisfaction. It had been hard work organising the contest, but it had been a resounding success. Entries had poured in from all over the globe and the publicity it had stimulated had done nothing but good for her beloved charity. Donations had more than trebled over the past six months.
And for a moment she quite forgot her private beef with Matthew Allenby. Since the break-up of her romance she had turned her back on men and love and poured all her energies into her charity work, and she was thrilled that this particular project had turned out so well.
All her charities were dear to her, but Bardi especially so, and she was deeply involved in the new extension. And now she couldn’t wait to meet the winner of the competition, for it would be her duty and her privilege to work closely alongside him.
The panel members took their seats as Signor Roberto Lecori, chairman of the Bardi children’s home, stepped up to the microphone to make an introductory speech. A hush fell across the hall and the audience settled back in their seats, all eyes fixed on him, as he began to speak.
All eyes, that was, except a pair in the fourth row which were fixed unblinkingly on Caterina.
She looked quite beautiful, Matthew thought. Serene and relaxed. Not at all the spiteful vixen who had confronted him a few hours earlier. His eyes narrowed; he was intrigued. There were so many different sides to her. Any man who got involved with her would have a real challenge on his hands. And he smiled, savouring that thought. He had always enjoyed a challenge. What a stroke of good fortune if fate were to throw them together.
He let his gaze sweep over her as he sat unseen in the fourth row—for he was aware that she hadn’t spotted him yet—and the iron-grey eyes were full of appreciation. She really was quite stunning, far more beautiful than she seemed to realise, for she possessed none of the vanity that often accompanied such beauty. That wonderful glossy hair, that lovely face so full of character, that softly feminine, willowy figure...
Though not too willowy these days, as had been the case a few months ago at the time of the break-up of her romance. And as he remembered her unhappiness and how thin she’d got then Matthew felt a twist of regret at his part in the whole débâcle. Though, of course, he’d had no choice. He’d had to intervene. But he was pleased to see that she’d recovered. These days she was looking perfectly splendid.
And again he reflected that it really would be rather nice if fate were to offer him the opportunity to enjoy this gorgeous creature.
Signor Lecori was coming to the end of his speech now and the audience were starting to shift expectantly in their seats as the moment they had all been waiting for grew near. Then at last he turned to Caterina.
‘And here to announce the winner... our beloved patron, the Lady Caterina...’
Caterina rose to her feet, smiling, though inwardly she was cursing. For the past ten minutes, with the utmost discretion, she’d been searching the sea of faces for a glimpse of Matthew Allenby. But there was no sign of him at all. Damn it, she was thinking. Was she to be denied, after all, the pleasure of looking into his face and seeing his disappointment when she announced the winner?
“Thank you, Signor Lecori...’ She took her place on the podium and turned to address the audience before her. ‘Ladies and gentlemen...’ she began. But then her heart jumped inside her—for, joy of joys, at last she’d spotted her quarry!
He’d been half-hidden behind a woman in a wide-brimmed hat, but from up here on the podium she could see him perfectly—looking, it must be said, as dangerously handsome as ever in a dark blue suit and bright red tie. And as he met her eyes and smiled she mentally rubbed her hands with glee. In a couple of minutes’ time he wouldn’t be feeling much like smiling!
She began the short speech she had prepared, praising the high standard of the entries, her eyes flicking from time to time to the face in the fourth row, savouring the moment, fast approaching, when she would see the confident look in those dark grey eyes crumble.
And as the moment drew near her heart was hammering. It was shameful just how much she was going to enjoy this!
She paused. ‘And now it’s my very great pleasure to announce the winner, whose design, in spite of the high standard of its competitors, stood out, in the unanimous opinion of the judges, head and shoulders above the rest...’
Her gaze flicked to the fourth row. Here it comes, she silently warned him. Brace yourself for a nice big disappointment.
‘And the winner is...’ She licked her lips mentally. ‘The winner is Secolo Designs of Geneva!’
The audience burst into applause, everyone looking excitedly round them to see who would stand up to claim the prize. But, before she did likewise, Caterina turned with a smile to focus for a gloating moment on the figure in the fourth row. That’s one in the eye for you, Matthew Allenby! she thought.
But what on earth was happening? Her heart tripped inside her and suddenly her blood was turning to powder—for, right before her eyes, Matthew was rising from his seat and, with a triumphant little smile, walking towards her.
