The Italian's Virgin Acquisition

Especially when his family was descended from centuries-old Italian royalty. ‘They’ll see right through me,’ she implored. ‘They’ll know we’re a sham.’

‘Just relax, Poppy, I have this.’

‘But how can you?’ she asked.

‘I arrange multi-billion-dollar business deals all the time. Pretending that we’re a couple will be a walk in the park by comparison.’

She wished she agreed, but she did not arrange multi-billion-dollar deals at all, so for her this was much worse.

‘You’ll really do anything to get control of this company won’t you?’ she said.

‘Yes.’

‘Surely your grandfather knows that.’

‘In my experience people see what they want to see. My grandfather wants me to fall in love. Since that’s his focus, that’s what he believes has happened.’ He paced around her small living room. ‘Sometimes I think I should have just bitten the bullet—isn’t that what you English would say?—and taken a wife already.’

His cavalier attitude to something Poppy had romantically believed—hoped—led to happy ever after for some people appalled her. ‘It’s not too late,’ she drawled. ‘Perhaps you could send Paula out to Fortnum and Mason’s to pick one up for you this afternoon. Who knows, you might even find one on sale.’

Sebastiano cast her an amused glance. ‘There’s that latent hostility again, Miss Connolly.’

‘What you just said was completely outrageous,’ she snapped. ‘One doesn’t just bite the bullet and get married. But why haven’t you, out of interest? Is it that you don’t believe in love or because no woman would have you?’

Sebastiano gave her a mocking smile. ‘I’m not married because I don’t care to be married. But I’m sure love exists. In fact, I know it does, because I’ve seen it. I just don’t want it or need it for myself. My life is perfect as it is.’

‘Your grandfather doesn’t think so.’

‘My grandfather is old-world Italian. To him, family is life.’

‘And what about your parents? Are they happily married?’

A muscle ticked in his jaw. ‘My parents are dead and therefore off limits as a topic for discussion. Any other questions?’

Immediately contrite by the wealth of hurt she picked up in his aggravated tone, Poppy’s own irritation fell away. What did she care what he thought about love and marriage? It wasn’t as if this was real. Surreal, maybe. But definitely not real.

‘Now I just feel bad,’ she said. ‘But if this is supposed to look legitimate then we would know certain things about each other. Like how they died.’

His green eyes turned as murky as the waters at Loch Ness on a stormy day. ‘They died in a car accident. I was fifteen.’ He paced her small room like an angry caged tiger. Or panther. He was more panther, with his dark good looks and green, green eyes. He swung those eyes to her now and once more she felt the jolt of a strange connection in her chest. For a minute neither of them spoke, then his lips twisted in a wry grimace. ‘Satisfied?’

No, she wasn’t satisfied. He had been around the same age as Simon when his parents had died and she knew how devastated Simon would be if something were to happen to her. The realisation made her want to go to Sebastiano, wrap her arms around him and keep him safe from the harsh realities of the world. Which was absurd. Not only would he not welcome her efforts, but if there was anyone who could take care of themselves in this world it was this man.

She felt a little sick at having pried into his life. Lord knew there were things she didn’t want him knowing about her life. ‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you.’

‘You didn’t,’ he bit out, running his hand through his hair and giving it that sexily mussed look she didn’t want to find attractive. ‘You’ve worked for my company for six weeks, so you already know everything you need to know about me. If you want my favourite colour or my favourite food, the answer is blue and pesto alla genovese.’

‘You’re that complex, huh?’

His grin was slow. ‘I do have a voracious sexual appetite, but I doubt my grandparents will quiz you about that.’

Poppy shook her head. ‘TMI,’ she said, making him laugh softly.

‘So, what about you?’ he asked.

The simple question made her instantly wary. ‘No, I do not have a voracious sexual appetite.’

Her cheeks stung with embarrassment, worsening when his lips kicked up at one side. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes!’