The Italian's Virgin Acquisition

‘Sorry, Nonna.’ Nicole giggled, clearly not sorry at all. ‘Okay, I’ll be quiet now. You two run along and rest.’

Poppy threw Nicole a bemused smile. She’d never had a girlfriend growing up but, if she had, she would have wanted one as bubbly and lively as Nicolette.

Trailing Sebastiano up the moulded stone staircase, she was out of breath by the time he ushered her through a solid wooden door.

‘Dio,’ he muttered. ‘What made me ever think this weekend was going to be easy?’

Poppy blinked up at him. ‘Those long billionaire breakfasts?’

‘I never said billionaire breakfasts,’ he growled, dragging a hand through his hair. ‘And what was with all the touching downstairs?’

‘You told me to make it look real between us so I was playing my part.’ Poppy glanced around the beautifully appointed sitting room and across to another set of French doors that overlooked the sea. ‘I’m a pretty affectionate person so...if this was a real relationship, I’d probably touch you.’ A lot, she silently added.

‘Well, I’m not overly affectionate, so you can cut that out right now.’ His eyes narrowed as they swept over her. ‘Unless of course you’re looking to make this real.’

Poppy frowned, hearing the edge in his voice. ‘Of course I’m not looking to make this real. Why would you even think that?’

‘Never mind, just...follow my lead in this.’

Poppy shrugged. ‘Whatever you say, boss.’ She walked over to the French windows. ‘Your home is like something out of a fairy tale,’ she murmured, taking in the quaint coloured houses nestled around the harbour town. ‘You’re so lucky to live here.’

‘I don’t live here any more.’ He shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it on the edge of a white sofa. ‘When I visit Italy, I stay in Rome.’

Poppy felt her curiosity pique at his offhand comment. ‘So where do you call home?’

‘I have houses in London and Boston. I spend my time where I’m needed the most.’

‘Don’t you get sick of packing a suitcase?’ she asked, trying not to ogle his body in his fitted sweater. ‘When you go from home to home.’

‘I don’t pack a suitcase. I have a wardrobe in each house.’

‘Oh, right.’ Could the gap between their two worlds be any wider? ‘Me too.’

A reluctant grin flashed across his face. ‘I apologise for my cousin ambushing you before. I wasn’t expecting to see my extended family until tomorrow night.’

‘It’s fine.’ She shrugged. ‘At first I thought she was an old girlfriend, but of course, what would an old girlfriend be doing here? But she was so nice it was hard not to like her. Is she always so bubbly?’

‘Will you accuse me of having no sense of humour if I say “unfortunately”?’

Poppy laughed. ‘Probably. But you love her anyway, right?’ she asked softly.

‘She’s family. Of course I love her.’

A dark cloud settled over Poppy just as the wintry sun ducked behind a grey cloud, casting the lovely vista in shadows. She instinctively wrapped her arms around her torso. There was no ‘of course’ about it; being family did not guarantee anybody actual love.

Realising that Sebastiano was watching her with those keen, intelligent eyes, she moved away from the window. ‘Nicole said that there would be others at dinner tonight. How many more of you are there?’

‘Nicole’s older sister, Giulietta, and her partner, Giancarlo. As well as my uncle Andrea and my aunt Elena. My uncle will most likely drink too much wine before the first course is served and fall asleep on the sofa, and my aunt will reprimand him to no end.’

‘It sounds lovely.’ She found herself envious of his closeness with his family. ‘Is there anything else I should know?’

‘Not really. We are a very small lot by Italian standards, which is one of the reasons I suspect my grandfather wants me to hurry up and settle down.’

‘And holding the family business over your head to get you to do it.’

‘Something like t

hat.’