Книга - The Italian’s Christmas Proposition

The Italian's Christmas Proposition
CATHY WILLIAMS


An outrageous engagement An undeniable desire! Tycoon Matteo Moretti has one goal this Christmas—to land the deal of the century. Rescuing enchanting stranger Rosie from a romantic scandal is honourable. Yet when it puts his deal in jeopardy, Matteo sees only one solution—making this English beauty his fake fiancée! But will the red-hot, yet unexpected connection they share, tempt Matteo to put a ring on Rosie’s finger—for real?







An outrageous festive engagement…

Tycoon Matteo Moretti has one goal this Christmas—to land the deal of his career. So, while rescuing enchanting stranger Rosie from a romantic scandal is honorable, when it puts his deal in jeopardy, Matteo sees only one solution. He’ll make this English beauty his fake fiancée!

To avoid her family’s overbearing scrutiny, Rosie accepts Matteo’s temporary proposal. Yet an unpredictable red-hot connection throws her emotions into overdrive! Rosie knows she’s wearing Matteo’s diamond only for show, but soon their relationship starts to feel deliciously and dangerously real…


CATHY WILLIAMS can remember reading Mills & Boon books as a teenager, and now that she is writing them she remains an avid fan. For her, there is nothing like creating romantic stories and engaging plots, and each and every book is a new adventure. Cathy lives in London. Her three daughters—Charlotte, Olivia and Emma—have always been, and continue to be, the greatest inspirations in her life.


Also by Cathy Williams (#u9bbed5fe-fc65-56e6-9253-25fd1408f7ec)

Bought to Wear the Billionaire’s Ring

The Secret Sanchez Heir

Cipriani’s Innocent Captive

Legacy of His Revenge

A Deal for Her Innocence

A Diamond Deal with Her Boss

The Italian’s One-Night Consequence

The Tycoon’s Ultimate Conquest

Contracted for the Spaniard’s Heir

Marriage Bargain with His Innocent

Shock Marriage for the Powerful Spaniard

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk).


The Italian’s Christmas Proposition

Cathy Williams






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


ISBN: 978-1-474-08837-4

THE ITALIAN’S CHRISTMAS PROPOSITION

© 2019 Cathy Williams

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




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Contents

Cover (#ubb45df52-3fee-5501-8938-56143619b283)

Back Cover Text (#u60ee159b-d1ae-5ecd-b190-d7be0ff478bf)

About the Author (#ub763116f-d827-5239-b68b-1009d9b81cff)

Booklist (#u75c7135f-44a3-5775-9ecc-72426e8278ed)

Title Page (#u8dd0c2be-ab29-56d5-bd83-8271515e47a2)

Copyright (#u2faafceb-6732-5496-8907-646efa4ce2b1)

Note to Readers

CHAPTER ONE (#u3cf0a2bb-fae3-5957-8a68-50786e5ec830)

CHAPTER TWO (#u25580afb-98a4-56f2-8df0-4b6e94e81e33)

CHAPTER THREE (#u03a6df02-396d-5c96-a1f0-6d62a15ded2e)

CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)




CHAPTER ONE (#u9bbed5fe-fc65-56e6-9253-25fd1408f7ec)


‘ROSIE! ARE YOU going to focus on what I’m telling you?’

The cut-glass accent was a mix of despair, impatience and long-suffering love and Rosie guiltily dragged her eyes away from the far more stimulating sight below of people coming and going, skis on shoulders, imbued with the unique excitement of being on holiday in the run-up to Christmas.

The luxury five-star resort—a jewel nestled in the heart of the Dolomitic Alps in the Veneto region of northern Italy—was the last word in the very best that money could buy and as good as a second home to Rosie, who had been coming here with her family for as long as she could remember. She could close her eyes and accurately visualise every beam of deep burnished wood, every swirl and curve of marble, the timeless cool greys of the exquisite indoor swimming pool area and the oversized chandeliers dominating the Michelin-starred restaurants.

Right now, sitting in the galleried landing with a latte in front of her, Rosie was in prime position to admire the dramatic twenty-foot Christmas tree sweeping upwards by the reception desk, a vision of tasteful pink and ivory and tiny little electric candles. She could almost smell the pine needles.

‘Of course I am,’ she said with a suitable level of sincerity and enthusiasm. Across from her, her sister was on the verge of another of her laborious, long-suffering sighs. ‘You were asking me what I intend to do once the ski season is over. I don’t know, Diss. Right now, I’m just enjoying the ski instructing. It’s fun. I’m meeting some really lovely people and plus, let’s not forget, I’m looking after Mum and Dad’s chalet while I’m here. Making sure it…er…doesn’t get burgled…or anything…’

‘Because burglars are a dime a dozen here in Cortina?’

‘Who knows?’

‘You can’t keep flitting from place to place and from job to job for ever, Rosie. You’re going to be twenty-four on your next birthday and Mum and Dad…well, all of us—me, Emily, Mum, Dad…we’re all concerned that it’s getting to a point where you can’t even be bothered to try and…you know what I mean…’

‘Become an accountant? Get a mortgage? Find a decent man to look after me?’ Rosie flushed and looked away. She was particularly sensitive on the subject of men and, in her heart, she knew that this was what her parents were worried about—that she was never going to find Mr Right, as both her sisters had. That she was going to spend her life drifting from Mr Wrong to Mr Really Bad Idea to Mr Will Take Advantage. She had, as it happened, been down several of those roads in the past and, whilst she had put a cheerful face on each and every disappointment, each and every one had hurt.

At this point in time, if she never had another relationship in her life again, she wouldn’t lose sleep over it. The last guy she had gone out with had been a fellow traveller in India. He had been out there buying cheap Asian artefacts to sell for a profit in a market somewhere near Aldershot. They had had fun before he had taken a shine to a tall brunette and disappeared with her, leaving only an apologetic note in his wake.

The only saving grace in all these disappointing relationships, as far as Rosie was concerned, was that she hadn’t made the mistake of bed-hopping. One guy. That was it. The one guy all those years ago who had broken her heart. She’d been nineteen and finding her feet all over again, having dropped out of university, and he had been there to catch her as she was falling. A biker with a refreshing disdain for convention and the first guy who had been a world away from the upper-class posh boys she had spent a lifetime meeting. She had loved everything about him, from his tattoos to the ring in his ear.

He, in the end, had loved the financial package she came with more than he had loved her for who she was, and had thrown a fit when she had promised to dump all her worldly goods for him. She still shuddered when she thought about what could have been the biggest mistake of her life. Since then, she’d enjoyed life without getting in too deep.

‘Whoever said anything about becoming an accountant?’ Candice rolled her eyes and grinned, and Rosie grinned back, because Emily’s husband, wonderful as he was, could be a little tedious when he began pontificating about exchange rates and investment opportunities.

Still, he earned a small fortune, so he had obviously played the game right.

Whilst she, Rosie, hadn’t started playing it at all.

‘With Christmas just three weeks away…’ Candice shifted and Rosie looked at her sister with narrowed eyes, smelling a conversation ahead that she would not want to have.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll make sure the chalet is in tip-top shape for the family invasion. You know how much I love the whole decorating thing. Plus, I’ll make sure there are lots of chocolates hanging on the branches of the tree for Toby and Jess.’

‘There has been a slight change of plan. The snow is so magnificent at the moment that everyone’s coming over a little earlier than originally planned.’

‘Earlier than planned?’

‘Tomorrow, as it happens. I’m the advanced warning party, so to speak. I know you and I had planned a couple of girly days together but you know Mum and Dad…they can’t resist the slopes and the atmosphere here at Christmas. And there’s something else,’ Candice said in a rush. ‘They’re thinking of asking the Ashley-Talbots over for a long weekend. Bertie too. He’s something or other in the City and doing quite well, I hear. They think it might be nice for you two to…er…get to know one another…’

‘No.’

‘It’s just a thought, Rosie. Nothing’s confirmed. He’s always had that crush on you, you know. It might be nice!’

‘Absolutely not, Candice.’

‘Mum and Dad just thought that there’s no harm in actually meeting someone a little less…unorthodox.’

‘When you say that you’re the advance warning party—’ Rosie narrowed suspicious eyes ‘—does that actually mean that you’ve been sent to start preparing me for lots of lectures on getting my house in order, starting with dating Robert Ashley-Talbot? Well, no way will I be getting involved with him! He’s…he’s the most boring guy I’ve evermet!’

‘You can’t say that! You might find that you actually enjoy the company of someone who has a steady job, Rosie! Emily and I both happen to agree with Mum and Dad! Give me one good reason, Rosie-Boo, why you won’t at leastgive it a go. If you find that you really don’t like Bertie, then that’s fair enough, but you haven’t seen him in years.’

‘A year and a half, and he can’t have changed that much.’ Nerdy, prominent Adam’s apple, thick-rimmed glasses and a way of getting onto a really dull topic of conversation and then bedding down for the duration.

Rosie looked down. Down to the lively buzz of excited guests, down to the glittering Christmas tree, down to the clutch of leather chairs in the foyer, where a group of three people was gathering some papers, shaking hands, clearly about to leave.

‘And—’ she turned her clear blue-eyed gaze back to her sister ‘—I wasn’t going to say anything but…but… I’m just not in a good place for meeting Bertie, Diss. Or anyone, for that matter.’

On her lap, she crossed her fingers and told herself that this was a perfectly sensible way out of a situation that would turn Christmas into a nightmare. She didn’t want Bertie coming over. She didn’t want to have to face the full force of her family gently trying to propel her to a destination she didn’t want to go because they were concerned about her.

She leaned forward. ‘I’ve had my heart broken while I’ve been out here.’

‘What on earth are you talking about, Rosie?’

‘You say that I never go for the right kind of guy? Well, I did. I fell for one of the guests here. A businessman. As reliable and as stable as…as…the day is long. He was everything you and Ems and Mum and Dad would have wanted for me, which just goes to show that those types just aren’t for girls like me. I bore them in the end. It was just a holiday fling but I guess I got more wrapped up in him than I thought I would.’

‘I’m not sure I believe you,’ Candice said, eyebrows raised. ‘It’s very odd that this is the first I’m hearing of this and we’ve been sitting here for what…an hour? What a coincidence.’

‘I wasn’t going to mention it but I felt I had to when you told me that Mum and Dad were thinking of asking Robert and his parents over for the weekend. I’m just a little shaken up, that’s all. I know I’ve dated the wrong sorts but I really felt that this guy might be the one. I went into it with my eyes wide open and I was hurt. So… I just need a bit of time out to lick my wounds.’

‘And where is this mysterious disappearing man right now?’ But her voice was hesitant, on the cusp of believing.

‘As a matter of fact…’

And there was that group of three again. She recognised the elderly couple—Bob and Margaret something-or-other. She had given them both a lesson, filling in for their usual instructor who had called in sick when Rosie knew for a fact he had been suffering from a hangover. They had said were there to try and learn to ski because, although they were in their late sixties, they believed that old dogs could be taught new tricks and, since their daughter loved her skiing, they were up for giving it a try. They were going to be retiring. Selling up. A nice young man, Matteo, would be coming in for a flying visit to do the deal. Exciting times.

With his back to her as he shook hands with the older man, Matteo—or the man she assumed was Matteo, because who else could it possibly be?—was just the candidate for the role of businessman heartbreaker. There was no way she intended to spend her Christmas dodging Bertie, and a broken heart was the only excuse she could find that might save her from that dreadful possibility.

‘There he is. Matteo. With that couple about to leave. He’s here on business with them. He doesn’t know that I’m up here looking down at him. Thinks I’m out on the slopes giving a lesson. He’s probably completely forgotten about my existence already.’

She looked at her sister who stared down to the group of three, eyes narrowed.

‘That creep was the guy who hurt you?’

Rosie mumbled something inarticulate, meant to convey an affirmative reply without going into further detail. Not a liar by nature, she was guiltily aware that she was blackening a perfect stranger’s character with her little white lie.

Distracted, what happened next took her by surprise. It was so out of keeping with her cool, collected, elegant blonde sister. Candice was always so controlled! But here she was now, angrily rising to her feet, hands slapping down on the table, and then she was hurtling between tables, feet flying at a pace while… Rosie watched, mouth open, horror slowly dawning because she knew that this was not going to end well for her…

She would have to stop her sister before things went any further. She didn’t waste time thinking about it. She leapt up and followed in hot pursuit.






For once, Matteo Moretti wasn’t looking at his watch. He usually did. The end of a deal always awakened a restlessness inside him, an impatience to move on to the next thing. True, the signatures on the dotted line were technically not there yet, but that was a formality. Hands had been shaken and, as soon as the horror of the Christmas season was over and done with, the lawyers would be summoned and the finishing touches put to a purchase that meant a great deal to him.

Bob and Margaret Taylor, the most unlikely of clients, were beaming up at him. Bob, yet again, was congratulating him in his bluff, Yorkshire accent for getting past the post.

‘Land’s worth a bob or two.’ He slapped Matteo’s arm and winked. ‘Can’t tell you how many wanted to get their greedy paws on it but you’re the first person the missus and I feel we can trust to do the right thing.’

‘Honoured that you think that,’ Matteo responded with sincerity.

He’d been here at this eye-wateringly pricey resort for the past three days, wooing Bob and his wife. A different type of approach for a very different type of deal.

Around him, Yuletide merriment had been a constant backdrop, getting on his nerves, reminding him that it was high time he did what he always did every single Christmas—escape. Escape to his villa on the outskirts of Venice, which was a mere couple of hours from here.

He worked in London and had a penthouse apartment there, indeed lived most of his life there, but his elegant, yellow-stone villa here in Italy was his bolt-hole and the only place where he felt perfectly at peace. Every year he removed himself from the canned carols, the ridiculous Santa lookalikes ringing bells outside supermarkets and the pounding of crowds on pavements, frantically hunting down presents, wrapping paper, Christmas decorations and all the paraphernalia that seemed to arrive earlier and earlier in the shops with every passing year.

Two weeks away from it all, isolated in his sprawling manor with two trusted employees to cook and clean for him while he worked. God bless broadband and the Internet. It enabled him to avoid the chaos of the festive season while still keeping on top of each and every detail of what was happening in his various offices across the globe. He might live in England but he was Italian and this bolt-hole in Italy reminded him of his heritage and everything that went with it. He threw money at his PA, told her to do as she wished when it came to entertaining the troops at various office Christmas parties and he disappeared.

‘Just a couple more “i”sto dot and a couple more “t”sto cross and it’s yours, lad, and we couldn’t be happier.’

Intensely private and remote, Matteo felt the twist of something highly emotional swell inside him because this was the one and only deal he had ever done that had real personal significance. His background, his childhood—in a way the very reason he was where he was now—all lay in that land he was on the verge of buying and the halfway house within it. It was a place of retreat for foster kids, an escape where they could feel what it was like to be in the open countryside, with nature all around them. Horses to ride, quiet, secret places to go and just be, chickens to feed and eggs to collect. An idyll.

So many years ago, but a fortnight spent there, when he had been just ten and about to go off the rails in a big way, had done something to him, had given him something to hold onto. He had found an anchor in a restless, rudderless existence and had somehow held onto that. Bob and Margaret hadn’t been in charge at the time. They had come later, and of course he’d kept that connection to the place to himself, as he kept everything of a personal nature to himself. But with ownership of that special place within his grasp… Yes, he felt strangely emotional.

Shaking Bob’s hand as they made plans for their final meeting, Matteo was ill prepared for what happened next.

A scene.

A blonde woman bearing down on them from nowhere. The high pitch of her voice was as piercing as the scrape of fingernails on a blackboard. Heads spun round, mouths opened and closed and there was a flurry of activity as stunned hotel employees and guests alike gasped and wondered what was going on.

For a split second, Matteo was utterly lost for words. Next to him, Bob and Margaret were also stunned into immobility.

‘Who do you think you are… Matteo whoever you are…? How dare you mess with Rosie? People like you should be strung up! And I guess you’re going to run away and leave her all broken-hearted. And I bet you won’t even look back. You have no morals at all! She’s been hurt too many times!’

‘Are you talking to me?’

‘Who else could I be talking to? Is your name Matteo?’

‘Yes, but there seems to have been some kind of misunderstanding…’

Matteo, already on the back foot, peered around the tall blonde to see a shorter, plump girl, wearing an expression of dismay, borderline panic and acute embarrassment.

For a few seconds, he was utterly nonplussed. She was staring directly at him and she had the bluest eyes he had ever seen. Her hair was vanilla-blonde, a tangle of unruly curls framing a heart-shaped face that was, just at the moment, suffused with colour. Her mouth was a perfect bow shape and her skin was satiny smooth.

Words failed him. He stared. He registered that she was calling his name and then, somehow taking advantage of that moment of weird disorientation he had experienced at seeing her, he realised she was leading him away from the others with a sharp tug on his arm.

‘Please, please, please…’ Rosie was whispering, simultaneously tiptoeing and tugging him down so that she could whisper into his ear, ‘Could you just play along with this for the moment? I’ll explain in a bit. I’m really, really sorry, but all you have to do is…’

Is what? Matteo thought. Through the confusion of his thoughts, he felt her small, delicate hands clutch at his arm. She was so much smaller than Matteo, his tall form and muscular body towering over her.

‘Who the hell are you?’ Matteo kept his voice low, a whispered conversation that he knew looked a lot more intimate than it was. He was thinking fast but was disconcerted by the softness of her body and the sweet, floral scent of her hair. She was much shorter than him and her reaching up to him somehow emphasised the fullness of her breasts, pushing against her jumper, just brushing against him.

‘Rosie. Sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry. I had no idea my sister would rush down here like a tornado…’

‘This isn’t what I expected from you, son. You know how traditional I am when it comes to treating other people the way you would want to be treated yourself.’ This from behind him—Bob’s voice, thick with disappointment.

How the hell did the woman know his name? And who was she anyway? His head was clearing and one thing was certain—the ramifications of what was going on were becoming patently obvious.

No deal.

Lengthy unravelling of this mess was going to take time and time was not on his side. Bob was making noises under his breath, wondering whether he hadn’t made a dreadful mistake, while his wife was trying to be the voice of reason. The deal was disappearing into the ether. He had no idea who was the woman imploring his help. His assumption was it was some kind of set-up somehow to extract money from him. He was made of money. Public accusations of some kind? Blackmail? Press somewhere waiting in the wings, cameras at the ready?

His levels of anger bordered on volcanic. Of key importance was to take this scene away from Bob and his wife and sort out the consequences later. Damage limitation was essential. He wanted this deal and he was going to do whatever it took to seal it.

And the only thing he could think of doing right now was to follow the lead of the pink-faced girl still looking at him and play along, much as he didn’t want to.

He smiled and Rosie went a shade pinker.

‘Rosie,’ he murmured, spinning her round and edging them both back to the group, who had fallen silent during their whispered tête-à-tête, including the screeching sister. ‘You know we talked about this…’

He looked at Bob and Margaret with a self-deprecating smile and anchored the fiery little blonde closer to him so that she was nestled against his side. ‘She’s gone off the rails because she thinks I’m going to be one of those fly-by-night guys…’ He shook his head, leant down and brushed his mouth against her cheek. ‘How can I convince you, my darling, that this isn’t just a fling for me?’

Rosie looked at him. Her skin burned where he had brushed it with his mouth. His arm, hooked around her waist, was doing all sorts of things to her body, making her squirm.

In the heat of the moment, she hadn’t quite appreciated just how stunning the guy was. Raven-black hair, bronzed skin and eyes as dark as midnight. She knew that she was breathing quickly, just as she knew that she wasn’t thinking straight. She was conscious of her femininity in ways she hadn’t thought possible.

‘Um…’

‘This feels like the start of something big, Bob,’ Matteo said in a darkly persuasive voice. ‘I would have mentioned it to you but I didn’t want to jinx it.’

‘So romantic,’ Margaret was saying with approval.

‘Isn’t it?’ Matteo commented neutrally. He tightened his hand on Rosie’s waist and gave her the tiniest of squeezes, nudging her ever closer, thigh against thigh, his arm resting just below her breast now.

Rosie felt the tightening of her nipples. She had no intention of catching her sister’s eye but she could feel Candice looking at the pair of them and heaven only knew what was going through her head. Candice was astute but it had to be said that this dark stranger, dragged into a charade not of his making, was doing a fine job of pulling it off and her only question was why?

‘You should head back to your hotel.’ Matteo’s primary objective at this point was to put distance between Bob, Margaret and the combustible situation unfolding in front of them. ‘Long day tomorrow finalising our deal.’

‘You’re getting a good man in this one,’ Bob said warmly, moving in to shake Rosie’s hand. ‘Glad everything’s sorted, lad. Misunderstandings can get out of control! Nice to see you’ve got the makings of a family man within you. A good woman is always the making of any man.’ He chuckled and gave his wife a hug.

Matteo thought it best to speed things along. He had no idea what was going on but the threat of it all blowing up was a distinct possibility and one he intended to divert with everything at his disposal. He mentally bid a temporary farewell to his Venetian villa that was waiting for him the following evening. It wasn’t going to happen.

‘So they say,’ he murmured as he thought ahead to how he intended to squash whatever machinations were afoot. ‘Comprehensively’ was the word that sprang to mind.

‘Hope we get to spend some time with the two of you before we head back to Yorkshire. Family is everything, like I say, and I wouldn’t mind raising a glass or two to celebrate young love.’

Matteo murmured, nodded, half-smiled, brushed his lips against Rosie’s hair… He exerted every ounce of charm to smooth over the sudden, alarming pot holes that had surfaced on the very smooth road. He walked them to the glass door, where they were waiting to be met, the little blonde still by his side because question time was about to begin.






Rosie watched with mounting dread as Matteo disposed of her sister with ruthless speed. He was the essence of charm, even though his hand on her waist carried the hint of a threat that sent shivers racing up and down her spine. She could hardly blame him. She listened in mutely as he smoothed over Candice’s doubts, laying it on thick until Candice was smiling and telling him how relieved she was that things were back on track, apologising for the fuss and then, somehow, laughingly blaming Rosie for having given her the wrong impression.

Rosie couldn’t believe the way events had transpired. Who knew that her five-foot-ten, ice-queen sister could let rip with such uncharacteristic drama? Candice was the one who flinched if someone raised their voice slightly too loudly in a restaurant. She moaned about people shouting into their mobile phones in public! She’d once told Emily off, when they had just been kids, for laughing too much.

Candice out of the way, Matteo dropped his hand, stood back and surveyed the blonde coldly.

‘So,’ he said flatly, ‘Let’s find somewhere nice and cosy and private and have a little chat, shall we?’

Rosie quailed. The man was sexy, dangerous…and from the expression on his face in the presence of his quarry.

‘I’m really sorry, I—I know how this must look…’ she stammered, only dimly aware that he was leading her out of the crowded foyer. She found she couldn’t quite meet those wintry eyes.

‘Do you, now?’ Matteo purred.

Where was he taking her? She cast a desperate backward glance behind her, back down to the marbled foyer with the tall Christmas tree. The low buzz of curious voices that had greeted the little scene earlier had died down but there would still be curious eyes looking to see whether it might kick off again.

‘Where are we going?’

‘Somewhere private,’ Matteo murmured, voice as smooth as silk and as razor-sharp as a knife, ‘Where we can have our cosy little chat.’

‘I’ve already apologised…’ Her legs, however, were obeying his command. She stood up and began walking alongside him, hyper-aware of his presence. There was a leashed power to the guy that made her quiver with a combination of apprehension, downright fear and a weird sort of breathless excitement that stemmed from a place she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

He wasn’t saying a word and seemed unaware of the cluster of well-heeled people around him that parted to allow him passage as if in the presence of royalty.

It was extraordinary.

She had no idea where they were going but eventually they reached a door which he slid open, standing back to allow her to brush past him.

She’d never been into this particular inner sanctum, even though she had been coming to this very resort with her parents for as long as she could remember, before they’d bought their own chalet just a bit further up the slopes.

It was a large, square room, richly panelled, with a gleaming wooden floor that was largely covered by an expanse of expensive, silk Persian rug. A cluster of deep, comfortable sofas was positioned here and there and a long bar extended along the back of one panelled wall. Rosie assumed this was the chill-out area for the senior management who ran the resort, somewhere where they could relax and unwind, away from the clamour of what might be going on outside.

She stared around her and, when she settled her eyes back on Matteo, it was to find that he had made himself at home and poured a whisky for himself. Needless to say, there was no offer of any form of refreshment for her.

‘Okay,’ Rosie began. ‘I know what you’re going to say and I’m sorry.’

‘First, you have no idea what I’m going to say, and secondly, if you’re sorry now, then you’re going to be a whole lot sorrier when I’m through with you and your accomplice.’

‘Accomplice?’ She gazed at him, bewildered, and then wished she hadn’t because he seemed to have the most peculiar effect on her. He made her feel as though the room was beginning to spin and if she didn’t sit down fast she would topple to the ground in an undignified heap.

‘The blonde with a voice that could shatter glass. Sit.’

A voice that could shatter glass? That was a first when it came to a description of her sister. Of either of her sisters, for that matter. Both were tall, sophisticated and impossibly beautiful in an ice-queen kind of way. Whereas she was… Rosie: short, way too plump because of the siren call of chocolate and all things sweet, with shoulder-length blonde hair that refused to be tamed, breasts far too abundant to be fashionable…

She recalled the heat of his hand so close to her breast and shivered.

Conscious of each and every one of those downsides, and aware of those cool, cool eyes on her, she haltingly headed for the closest chair and dropped into it, little knowing what was coming but all too ready to take the blame.

‘If that little scene was some half-baked attempt to screw money out of me then you messed with the wrong guy,’ he said flatly. He didn’t raise his voice or move a muscle but for all that the single sentence was imbued with threat and Rosie shivered and licked her lips.

‘I came here to do a deal that means a great deal to me,’ he continued, in the same deathly subdued, almost conversational tone. ‘Which is why I played along with whatever game you fancied you’d set in motion. I’m going to play along just until my deal is done, and then, let’s just say you’ll understand the meaning of regret.’

‘You can’t threaten me,’ Rosie objected weakly. ‘And that woman was my sister, not an accomplice!’

‘Can’t threaten you? No, you’ve got that wrong, I’m afraid. Here’s the thing, whoever the hell you are—whatever scheme you and your sister or whoever she was have concocted, you can bury it, because there’s no money at the end of this particular rainbow.’

‘Money?’

‘Did you really think that you would create a public scene to grab my attention, hurl baseless accusations against me to grab the public’s attention and then somehow manoeuvre me into a place where I would part with hard cash to shut the pair of you up?’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

‘Don’t play games with me, miss!’

‘I’m not playing games! I honestly have no idea what you’re getting at! Are you saying that you think my sister and I are out to get money from you? Why would we want to do that?’

Matteo clicked his tongue with blatant incredulity, reached into his pocket and extracted a card from his wallet, which he tossed onto her lap. Then he sat back and crossed his legs.

‘How rude!’ Rosie exploded, her face bright red. ‘Is this how you treat women? How dare you just…just fling something at me?’

‘Spare me the self-righteous outrage,’ he returned smoothly. ‘Why don’t you have a look at the card?’

Still fuming, Rosie looked at the card, which had just a name on it and three telephone numbers. She politely reached forward to return it.

‘I’m sorry but this doesn’t mean anything to me. Well, I guess it’s your name. Matteo Moretti.’ She sighed. He’d taken the card back and was obviously waiting for her to expand. His expression was unreadable and she got the impression that this was a man who knew how to conceal what was in his head and that it was something he was accustomed to doing. He emanated a certain amount of menace but she wondered whether that hint of menace wasn’t amplified by the fact that she was just so conscious of him in a way she had never been conscious of any man in her life before.

Suddenly very much aware of her physical shortcomings, she fidgeted in the chair and tried to get herself into a suitably more elevated, commanding position.

‘I suppose you’re someone important, which is why you think I should recognise your name, but I don’t know who’s who in the world of business. You must be rich, because you think that I’m some kind of master criminal who wants your money, but you’re wrong.’

‘Your sister knew my name,’ Matteo said bluntly. ‘Care to explain?’

‘Her name is Candice.’

‘Irrelevant. Just answer my question. Time is money.’

Sinfully good-looking he might be but Rosie was beginning to think that he was the most odious guy she had ever encountered. Rude didn’t begin to cover it.

‘I teach skiing here,’ she said stiffly. ‘For the season. I happened to meet your…your friends on the slopes. Pierre was supposed to be giving them a lesson but he went out last night with his girlfriend and he didn’t show up for—’

‘Get to the point!’

‘I’m getting there! Bob and Margaret told me that they were here mixing business with pleasure. They told me your name—Matteo. They said you never left the hotel, then they laughed and said that if they didn’t get to grips with skiing then you were to blame because they were too busy feeling guilty about you being cooped up inside to concentrate on getting their feet in the right place. Obviously I didn’t know it was you at the time, but that’s how I happened to know your name. It was just coincidence that you happened to be where you were when…’

When all hell broke loose.

Matteo gritted his teeth. ‘How much more tortured can this explanation get? I feel as though I’m being made to sample a vision of hell. Are you ever going to get to the point or do I have to bring the police in to question you?’

‘Police? How dare you?’ She glared at him and he stared back at her without batting an eyelid.

‘Just. Get. To. The. Point.’

‘Okay, here’s the point!’ Rosie snapped, leaning forward and gripping the sides of her chair tightly. ‘I had to pretend that I had broken up with someone, because I didn’t want to be condemned to seeing Bertie over Christmas, and I spotted you down there in the foyer with Bob and Margaret and I… I…figured that you were the businessman called Matteo so I lied and told my sister that I’d been seeing you! Is that enough of an explanation for you? I’m really sorry but you were the fall guy!’




CHAPTER TWO (#u9bbed5fe-fc65-56e6-9253-25fd1408f7ec)


THEIR EYES MET. Matteo was beginning to feel a little unsteady. He had never before heard such a garbled non-explanation from anyone in response to any question he had ever posed in his life. Her mouth was parted and she was leaning forward, her body language speaking of an urgency for him to believe what she was saying.

The woman was distracting.

It wasn’t just the breathless, convoluted workings of her brain which he was finding extraordinarily difficult to deal with. It was her, the entire package. The second he had laid eyes on her, something inside him had kick-started and now…staring back into her impossibly turquoise eyes…

He shifted, frowning. There was enough on his plate without losing focus over this nonsense. His eyes roved over her flushed face, subliminally appreciating the satin smoothness of her skin and the juicy fullness of her lips. As he watched, her tongue flicked out, nervously licking her upper lip, and his whole body jack-knifed in sudden, heated response.

A libido which had been dormant for the past six months surged into life with shocking force. He gritted his teeth together but he had to shift position because his erection was rock-hard, pulsing against the zipper of his trousers.

Was she leaning forward like that on purpose? Making sure that those lush, heavy breasts were on tempting show, begging to be fondled?

Matteo had a very particular type of woman. Very tall, very slim and very brunette. He went for the career woman, the woman who challenged him intellectually. He liked the back and forth of informed conversation about politics and the economy. He liked them cool, confident and as driven as he was. He’d fought hard for his place in the world and he appreciated a woman who had battled against the odds as well. An ambitious woman with a career of her own was also not a needy woman, and he disliked needy women. He didn’t want anyone needing him. He operated solo and that was the way he liked it.

So why was he staring at this woman in front of him with the rapt attention of a horny teenager? She was breathy and ultra-feminine and didn’t strike him as the sort who would be winning awards for her thoughts on world finance. She was the antithesis of what he sought in any woman.

Furious with his lack of self-control, he leapt to his feet to prowl through the room, at the same time finishing the glass of whisky he had poured, tempted to help himself to another but resisting the urge.

He had to remove his eyes from the sexy woman on the chair but, when he finally glanced at her again, it was to find that he was still in the grip of whatever ludicrous spell she had temporarily cast on him.

He positioned himself in front of her and then leant down, gripping either side of the chair, caging her in so that she instinctively drew back.

Her breathing was fast and shallow, her breasts heaving.

‘Not going to work,’ he growled.

‘What are you talking about?’ Rosie whispered. ‘I’ve tried to explain what happened.’

‘You expect me to believe that I was just some random target? That you really have no idea as to the reach of my power? And, if that’s the case, why are you coming on to me?’

Rosie’s mouth fell open and she stared.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Don’t think that you’re going to get me into any sort of compromising situation! I wasn’t born yesterday. That garbled nonsense about dragging me into this situation to avoid a guy—unbelievable.’

‘Compromising situation?’

‘You’re a sexy woman but I’m not a fool.’ Matteo gritted his teeth, controlling his hands with extreme difficulty, because what he desperately wanted to do was take what was obviously on offer, starting with those luscious lips and moving on to the even more luscious breasts.

‘You’re telling me that I’m sexy?’

‘And advertising it isn’t going to work. Where’s your sister? Lurking behind the door? Ready to take an incriminating photo, perhaps?’ He pushed himself away from the chair but his body was still on fire as he strolled through the room, purposefully maintaining distance between them.

Eventually, he sat down. He was still hard, still turned on.

‘I can’t believe you’d imagine that I was coming onto you,’ Rosie said faintly. The thought alone was enough to suffuse her with colour.

Her? She was the one who had drawn the short straw when it came to looks. Her sisters had always been the ones to turn heads. She, Rosie, had been the girl the boys enjoyed hanging out with. She self-consciously folded her arms over her breasts and then realised that, in doing so, she had simply drawn attention to them.

She wondered whether that would lead to another crazy accusation that she was trying to come on tohim. Her skin prickled. He had called her sexy and she didn’t think that he’d been kidding.

‘And it wasn’t garbled nonsense,’ she belatedly continued. ‘If you’d just listen! My family…’ Her voice was staccato with suppressed nerves. ‘Well, you’ve met Candice, my sister. They’ve been a bit concerned about me…they think I need to settle down, find a job, a life partner…’

‘A life partner?’

‘Yes.’ She flushed. Why had she launched into this brutally honest explanation? Why hadn’t she skimmed over the details? The way he was looking at her, frowning in silence with his head tilted to one side, was bringing her out in goose bumps. She should have left him puzzled about the nonsensical reason for her behaviour because now she would have to confess that the last thing she was was sexy.Sexy women didn’t have their entire protective family twitching with concern about their life choices.

‘How old are you?’

‘Twenty-three.’

‘Let’s suspend disbelief for the moment and go along with your story: why are you supposed to have a life partner at the age of twenty-three?’

Matteo realised, with frustration, that the woman was doing it again. Distracting him. He raked his fingers through his hair and reminded himself that this was the woman who had probably scuppered his deal, the one deal that mattered even though he had nothing to gain financially from it.

She looked as pure as the driven snow but he knew better than to trust the way people looked. Scratch the surface and there was usual a healthy store of avarice and general unpleasantness to be found.

She was gazing at him with those incredible aquamarine eyes.

Matteo was beginning to think that she wasn’t the Machiavellian character he had first assumed, working in cahoots with a partner in crime. For once, his cynicism might be misplaced. He wasn’t going to give up the notion willingly, but…he was getting there.

Nor was he convinced that she had been trying to come on to him, he grudgingly conceded. She was either an actress of Oscar winning standard or her shock at the accusation had been genuine.

He was so accustomed to women making a play for him, that the idea of one actively horrified at the thought of it was as novel as discovering a fish riding a bike in the centre of Hyde Park.

No ulterior motive, which just left her explanation that she had started an ill-thought-out act of impulse to escape some guy’s advances.

This time, when he looked at her, it was with lazy interest. He was thirty-two years old but his palate was lamentably jaded. This slice of novelty was strangely compelling.

‘Aren’t you a little young to be told that you need to start thinking about settling down?’ He shifted, making a concerted effort not to give in to the urge to stare at her fabulous body. ‘And, conversely, a little old for your family to be the ones giving the lectures?’

Rosie bristled. ‘They care about me. Not that that’s any of your business.’

‘Everything is my business when, thanks to you, the deal I’ve been nurturing for the past eight months will probably come to nothing. Whether what you and your sister did was a deliberate ruse or not, the upshot remains the same.’

‘Bob and Margaret seem very reasonable people, not the sort to jeopardise whatever agreement you reached with them because of a scene in a hotel lobby.’ Rosie flushed as her guilty conscience ate away at her. She couldn’t understand why he needed any deal so badly when it was obvious that he was made of money. Her parents were rich but she suspected that this guy was in a different league altogether.

‘Bob and Margaret are deeply traditional people,’ Matteo informed her coolly. ‘Church goers with an extremely healthy respect for the family unit, as you may have gathered. My integrity has been paramount to winning their trust.’

‘I’m really and truly sorry. I had no idea that my sister would fly down there and let rip. It’s not like her at all. She never makes a fuss. She’s probably at the chalet right now broadcasting our relationship to the entire family.’

‘The chalet?’

‘My parents own a chalet about fifteen minutes from here.’ She stared off into the distance and wondered what the next step was going to be.

Her gaze slid over to where Matteo was still staring at her, his loose-limbed body relaxed and her heart picked up speed. He was so perfect…so stupendously good-looking.

‘You still haven’t properly explained what went on down there,’ Matteo prompted, his voice clipped. ‘Now Cupid has supposedly targeted us, you might as well fill me in on this guy you don’t want to meet and why you’re having to in the first place. I didn’t ask for this but it’s landed on my lap and I’m going to have to make the best of it. I’ll need some personal details about you.’

Rosie looked at him and then found that she couldn’t stop looking and, when she looked, her brain went into overdrive and she started thinking about the way his mouth had felt against her cheek.

‘I…well…as I mentioned, my family think it’s time for me to start settling down—and please don’t tell me that I’m too old to have my sisters and my parents fussing around me. I know that. Fact is, Candice came over to warn me that they were thinking of inviting some family friends to the chalet over Christmas.’ She grimaced. ‘Bertie is their son.’

‘And?’ Matteo tilted his head and looked at her with raised eyebrows. ‘You don’t like him? Ex-lover? Bad break-up? Where are we going with this one?’

‘You’re very rude, aren’t you?’ She scowled and then, without warning, he smiled at her and all that sexiness was thrown into such stark focus that she was temporarily shocked into silence.

The harsh beauty of his face was no longer forbidding. All of a sudden, Rosie glimpsed at what true sexiness in a guy was all about and in an instant every boyfriend she had ever had faded into insignificance. She had gone out with silly little boys. The glorious specimen sprawled in front of her was just the opposite. He was all man, an alpha male in the prime of his life. She felt faint.

‘No one has ever said that to me before,’ Matteo drawled. ‘Should I be irritated, bemused or intrigued?’

Rosie squirmed. She wasn’t sure how to answer that question or whether he even expected an answer. She felt hot and bothered, as if she was coming down with something.

‘My parents think that Bertie and I might be a good match and I guess…’ She hesitated. ‘I acted without thinking. Candice was sitting across from me, ruining my entire Christmas. I just looked down and spotted Bob and Margaret and the guy they said they’d been doing business with, and I knew that you were all leaving, so I…told my sister that I couldn’t possibly face Bertie because I’d been having a fling with you, which hadn’t worked out and I was all broken up. It seemed safe. You were going and there was no way I thought she was ever going to…do what she ended up doing.’

Hearing it spoken out loud, Rosie couldn’t imagine why she had done what she had. Why hadn’t she just stood her ground and refused?

She knew why. Because it had always been her nature to follow the path of least resistance and that had evolved into her just going with the flow.

‘I should have just told Candice that if Bertie was going to be on the scene then I would make sure not to be there. I should have had a bit more will power. Instead, I acted on impulse, and I’m sorry.’

‘I’m getting the picture of someone who lets her family run her life for her. Am I right?’

‘Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?’

‘You shouldn’t make offers like that,’ Matteo murmured. ‘A guy could get all the wrong ideas.’

Heat coursed through her body, a slow burn from the inside out. Her breasts ached and her nipples, straining against her bra, felt ultra-sensitive, tingling. She imagined the pads of his fingers rubbing them and her breathing became shallow and laboured. She had no experience when it came to this kind of sophisticated, lazy flirting. If that was even what it was. All she could do was stare at him while her mind continued to play with all sorts of graphic, contraband images.

What on earth was wrong with her?

This guy reeked of danger and yet the pull she felt was overpowering.

‘So, now that we’re an item, what happens next?’

‘I…well…’

‘In the thick of this relationship, our hot, two-week clandestine fling, where were we supposed to be meeting? My room at the hotel? Your parents’ chalet? Neither of the above? It’s a mystery that Bob and Margaret didn’t jump in with a string of questions about our so-called affair, bearing in mind most of my time over the past few days has been spent with them working on finishing touches to my deal.’

‘How am I supposed to know?’ Rosie retorted truthfully. ‘I didn’t stop to think things through.’

Impulse on that scale was unheard of in Matteo’s world and it was strangely refreshing to glimpse a life where variables were given a chance to survive. Not for him, and yet… ‘Well, we’re going to have to come up with some sort of plausible story or else the whole thing falls apart, and I’m not about to let that happen.’

‘Because of this deal you’re working on?’

‘I just need to get past the finishing line.’

‘Why?’

‘Come again?’

‘Why would a deal mean so much to you that you would go along with this charade instead of just calling me out? I mean, you seem to have enough money…’

‘You’ve lived a life of comfort,’ Matteo said coolly. ‘From that vantage point, it’s easy to come out with platitudes about not needing money or having enough of it. Tell me, have you ever told anyone that the best things in life are free? Take it from me, they seldom are. Now, back to my question—what happens next? Your sister is staying with you. Having witnessed our show of love, presumably she expects nothing less than a formal meeting with the man who’s head over heels in love with you?’

Rosie’s brain was only just beginning to move on from what he had said about her attitude towards money. She was mortified to realise that he was right. She’d led a charmed life and it was easy to take all that for granted when you knew that it would always be there. For all her free-spirited travelling, she would never have fallen very far, because there would always have been a cushion waiting for her.

‘She’s probably curious,’ Rosie admitted.

‘And the over-protective family? Will the grape vine be buzzing with news of our whirlwind romance?’

Rosie shot him a sheepish smile and pushed some tangled blonde curls off her face.

‘“Buzzing” might be an understatement,’ she confessed.

‘But at least the ex-lover won’t be on the scene now you’re spoken for.’ He’d felt it again. A charge of electricity, powerful and disorientating. Primal. She represented everything he steered clear of when it came to women, and yet she was uniquely appealing and he had no idea from where the appeal stemmed.

‘Bertie was never an ex,’ Rosie was obliged to point out. ‘Never even came close! Our families have known each other for ages and, somewhere along the line, he got it into his head that he wanted to ask me out on a date. I was seventeen at the time. I’ve never fancied him but now he’s a big shot in the City somewhere and everyone thinks he could be a suitable match.’ She rolled her eyes.

Matteo didn’t say anything. His dark eyes were lazy and thoughtful. ‘So I’ll be meeting the family,’ he murmured.

‘You don’t have to. I could tell them that you’ve been called away on business. Candice has met you. She’ll understand.’

‘Why will she understand?’

‘Because…’ Rosie thought that, for someone as forbidding as he was, it was oddly easy to talk to him. ‘Because she has two children now, but before that she was a successful lawyer, so she understands the demands of work. She’ll get it if you pay a flying visit and then disappear.’

Rosie frowned and sat forward. ‘That would work,’ she said slowly. ‘If you disappear, then there won’t be the complication of your meeting my parents and the rest of the family. That way, I can gradually warn them that the big romance isn’t actually going as planned. These things happen,’ she thought aloud. ‘People meet and think that they’ve fallen in love but it turns out to be a mistake.’

‘And naturally,’ Matteo said soothingly, ‘That’s exactly what will happen but, for the moment, that solution is off the cards.’

‘Why?’

‘Because my deal hasn’t been finalised. Bob and Margaret are here for another week. Skiing, having fun and making sure the last details of my purchase are drawn up and inspected via email by their lawyers in London. Until signatures are on the dotted line, we’re in love and thinking of building a future together. Once everything’s signed, sealed and delivered, then the hasty unravelling of our relationship can begin.’ He gave an elegant shrug which implied that that was the way forward and there was nothing she could do about it, whether she wanted to or not.

‘It’ll be harder on my parents if they actually meet you face to face.’

‘Tough.’ Matteo didn’t bother beating about the bush. ‘I didn’t ask for this.’

His dark eyes scoured her face. He could read the tension and anxiety there, and of course she had a point. She clearly came from a tight-knit family unit. The less they were hurt by her behaviour, the better, but as far as he was concerned that was not his problem. Matteo didn’t allow sentiment to rule his life. It simply wasn’t in his nature. He had managed to remain focused, to stay on course with his life—unlike many of the kids he had grown up with, who had ended up either in jail or six feet under. That said, a life spent in foster care had toughened him. He had known what it meant to have nothing, to be a face and a name in a system and not much more. He had climbed out of that place and forged his way in the world.

That brief spell of respite at the place he was in the process of buying had shown him that there were alternatives in life. He had held onto that vision and it had seen him through.

He had realised that the only way to escape the predictability of becoming one of the victims of the Social Services system was to educate himself and he had applied himself to the task with monumental dedication. By the time he had hit Cambridge University, he had been an intellectual force to contend with.

He’d known more than his tutors. His aptitude for mathematics was prodigious. He’d been head-hunted by a newly formed investment bank and had swiftly risen to the top before breaking free to become something of a shooting star in the financial firmament. Money had given him the opportunity to diversify. It had allowed him to get whatever he wanted at the snap of a finger. Money had been his passport to freedom and freedom had been his only goal for his entire adult life.

Money had also jaded his palate, made life predictable. Being able to have whatever and whomever you wanted, he had reflected time and again, did not necessarily guarantee excitement.

He hadn’t had a woman in months and he hadn’t been tempted.

Now here he was and, in that instant, Matteo decided that he was going to go with the flow and make the best of the situation into which he had been catapulted. Moreover, he was going to enjoy the experience.

‘I have a suite here, at this hotel,’ he mused. ‘Bob and Margaret are at another location, further down the slopes. If I’m the new man in your life, then I’ll be expected to be at your parents’ chalet with you, I presume?’

‘Wait. What? Now, hang on just a minute…’

‘It’s hardly likely that we’re in the thick of a stormy, passionate affair and I’m bedding down on my own in a hotel room while you’re miles away in a chalet somewhere with nothing but the telly and a good book for company. Is it?’

‘Well, no. but…’

‘But?’

‘But this isn’t a normal situation, is it? I mean, we’re not actually involved with one another, are we?’

‘You need to follow the plot line here,’ Matteo imparted kindly. ‘There will be people we will need to convince and no one, not even traditional and church-going Bob and Margaret, will be persuaded that this is the affair of a lifetime if we’re crossing paths off and on.’

‘Stop being patronising,’ Rosie said absently. What did he mean by being at the chalet with her? Sharing a bedroom? She paled at the thought because suddenly her little white lie had taken on a life of its own and was galloping away at speed.

Matteo burst out laughing and she focused on his handsome face and glared.

‘I hadn’t banked on this,’ she said tightly. ‘You may find the whole thing hilarious but I don’t.’

‘I don’t find anything hilarious about this situation,’ Matteo shot back and, she thought for the millionth time, there was no need for him to remind her that she had brought this mess on herself. ‘But here we are. I’m going to move into your parents’ chalet today.’

‘Candice will know that you haven’t been living with me,’ Rosie pointed out.

‘How?’

‘There would be signs of us sharing a bedroom. You would have left stuff behind. Clothes on the backs of chairs. Shaving foam. Bedroom slippers. Aftershave…’

His eyebrows shot up, his expression halting her in mid-flow.

‘I have never spent a night in any woman’s house and, if I had, I certainly wouldn’t have left anything behind.’

Rosie’s mouth fell open and she gaped at him. ‘You’ve never stayed at a woman’s overnight?’ He was so arrogant, so beautiful, so sophisticated—she found it impossible to credit that he had never spent the night with a woman.

What woman, she guiltily thought, would let him out of her bed? It was an inappropriate thought but it lodged in her head, pounding with the steady force of a drum beat.

Matteo made a dismissive gesture with his hand that was both elegant and strangely exotic and she watched him from under lowered lashes, fascinated and mesmerised by the strong, proud lines of his handsome face.

‘I’m a normal, red-blooded man with a healthy libido,’ Matteo told her wryly. ‘I work hard and I play hard, but I don’t do love, and I never encourage a woman to think, even for a second, that I might.’

‘And if you spent a night with a woman…it would mean that you’re interested in more than just sex?’

‘Forget about me,’ Matteo drawled. ‘The danger would lie in her believing that there might be more to it than sex.’

‘And yet you’re okay with spending time in the chalet with me?’

‘Oh, but you’re not my woman,’ Matteo purred silkily. ‘And this isn’t about sex. This is a little pretend game that’ll be over just as soon as I get what I’m after…’




CHAPTER THREE (#u9bbed5fe-fc65-56e6-9253-25fd1408f7ec)


ROSIE THOUGHT THAT it was one thing to produce Matteo as a boyfriend, like a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat then yanking him off stage before anyone had time to suss that it was all sleight of hand. It was something else to hold him up to scrutiny, which was what she would be doing by having him in the chalet with her. He would be spun around for inspection, asked questions, quizzed about his intentions. How was she going to deal with all that without cracking? How was he?

Her sisters, in particular, had all made it their mission to make Rosie keep them posted on her love life and she had always obliged. They had met a couple of her fleeting boyfriends and had not held back from making their opinions known, politely but firmly. She was so much younger than them and they had never really stopped treating her like the baby of the family.

Hence, Rosie thought with uncharacteristic bitterness, the reason why she was where she was now.

She had bolted from the prospect of having their idea of a suitable partner presented to her instead of standing her ground—but why on earth had it occurred to them that they could actuallymatch her up with someone of their choosing in the first place?

This time, she was going to deal with the situation calmly. If there were too many questions, she would just stop answering. If the quizzing from Candice and Emily went too far, she would tell them to back off.

Matteo was a perfect stranger, but some of his remarks had been a little too perceptive for comfort. They had made her see herself in a different and more critical light than she had ever done before.

She wasn’t silly and she didn’t feel entitled but she was a trust-fund baby in the truest sense of the word and she had felt embarrassed to acknowledge the fact.

‘You’re going to be held up to the spotlight,’ she warned. ‘Five minutes with Candice is quite different to several days with my entire family.’

‘I can take the heat,’ Matteo drawled. ‘Can you?’

Rosie looked at him steadily. ‘I know what you think of me,’ she said, matching him for self-composure and liking the way she felt empowered by it. ‘That I live off my parents, and float from one thing to the next and allow my entire family to have a say in my life, but this time round I am definitely going to take the heat.’ She grinned suddenly. ‘They’ll be shocked.’

‘Good,’ Matteo murmured approvingly. ‘Sometimes it’s worthwhile to shock.’

‘I just have one condition.’

‘I’m all ears,’ Matteo said wryly.

‘I’m the one to do the breaking up.’

Matteo looked at her, at a loss for a suitable response.

‘I can tell from your stunned expression that no one’s ever broken up with you before, am I right? None of those women you refuse to spend the night with, just in case they get ideas, has ever broken up with you…?’

‘Fate has smiled on me in that respect.’

‘Well,’ Rosie countered drily, ‘Either smiled on you or else made you incredibly arrogant.’

Matteo grinned and then he burst out laughing. ‘You’re the most unexpected woman I’ve ever met,’ he murmured. His eyes were lazy and shuttered and feathered over her like a caress. ‘I’ve never met anyone as honest and outspoken. You contradict your background. So…you want to break up with me. I don’t see why not. Maybe it’s high time I suffered from a broken heart, and it works for you, doesn’t it?’

Rosie nodded slowly. ‘I’m tired of my family feeling ever so slightly sorry for me.’

‘So you dump the eligible guy and you instantly gain their respect. Well, we’ll have to make sure that I’m the very besotted boyfriend, won’t we? Now, why don’t I check out of my suite here and we can both go to your chalet and begin this game…?’






His suite was breath-taking. Huge, with several rooms, including an open-plan kitchen, fully equipped but, she imagined, seldom used.

‘You want this to be a convincing act?’ he had put to her as they had emerged from the private room where they had been ensconced for ages. ‘You come with me to my suite while I pack my things. Then we check out together. I was here on business when we met. Now that your family are coming over, it’s only natural I shift base so that we can be together and meet them as a couple.’

Rosie looked at him as he efficiently gathered his belongings. While he packed, he conducted a series of calls in Italian, phone to his ear as he wandered from bedroom to living area, from bathroom to office, picking things up and tossing them in a case he had dumped on the glass table in the living area.

She got the feeling that he had forgotten about her completely.

‘I don’t know anything about you,’ was the first thing she said when he was finally off the phone and the last of his things had been flung into the suitcase.

Here, in his suite, nerves assailed her. There was something so sleek and so innately dangerous about him that she found it impossible to think that they could convince her very perceptive and inquisitive family that they were really an item. Up close and personal, the force of his personality was more powerful, not less. She’d told herself that she wasn’t going to be browbeaten by their curiosity and their questions, but how on earth were they going to believe that she, Rosie, bubbly, extrovert and carefree, had lost her heart to someone like Matteo?

Add to that the fact that he really was a stranger and the uphill task of convincing anyone seemed insurmountable.

In the act of zipping his suitcase, Matteo paused and looked at her for a few seconds.

She hadn’t moved from her position by the door. She looked nervous and he marvelled that a lifetime of privilege—which had clearly been her background, judging from what she had told him—had managed to leave her unscathed. He hadn’t been kidding when he had told her that she was unexpected. He met a lot of privileged people. Young and old, and even the most charming—they all had a very similar veneer of confidence borne from the assumption that the world was theirs for the asking. They all spoke loudly and with booming confidence. Most drew distinct lines between the people who served them and the people on their own level.





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