Italian Boss, Proud Miss Prim

And he would…soon.

If Rigo’s hands should slip lower…

Katie gulped. She was relieved that he was nowhere near her scars, of course, but he was almost cupping her bottom, which had set off a chain reaction in parts of her he mustn’t know about. But how could she hide her response to him? She didn’t have the experience to know. She arched her back. She couldn’t help herself. She wanted to feel those big, strong hands holding her. She wanted to read all the subliminal messages that could pass between a man and a woman through the merest adjustment of a finger…

As the sultry beat of the slow, Latin American dance thrilled through her Katie found herself angling her buttocks ever more towards Rigo’s controlling hands. It was a signal as old as time and one he couldn’t help but read.

She exhaled raggedly as he confirmed this by adjusting the position of his hands once again. His fingertips were dangerously close now and, rather than feeling alarm, she felt small and safe, and violently aroused. She had never done anything as bold as this before, but here in the wholesome surroundings of the simple pizzeria, hidden in a mass of dancing couples, she felt free from the usual constraints. Gazing up, she met with eyes as dark and watchful as the night. Lower still she saw the sardonic smile playing around the corners of Rigo’s mouth, and realised he knew.

He knew.

She closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing, when what she really wanted to do was whisper, make love to me. But, other than in her wildest and most erotic fantasy, she would never find the courage to do that.

His senses were on fire. For the first time in his life he didn’t want a dance to end. The sexual chemistry between them had surprised him. He had enjoyed teasing Katie Bannister, the girl he thought of as Signorina Prim, but now his thoughts were taking the direct route to seduction. He wasn’t alone in feeling the power of this erotic spell. The other couples on the dance floor were drawn to them like moths to immolate on erotic flame. Even the musicians were swept up in this inferno of desire and, with a key change like a sigh, had reinforced the mood.

But he didn’t do one-night stands, or complications. Usually.

‘You’re quite a surprise to me,’ he murmured, feeling her tremble as his breath brushed her ear.

‘I wasn’t always so dull…’

He wasn’t going to argue about Katie’s interpretation of dull. Sensing there was more to come, he remained silent.

‘I trained to be an opera singer once.’

‘Did you?’ He couldn’t have been more surprised and pulled back to stare into her eyes. ‘What went wrong?’

He knew at once he shouldn’t have asked. He hadn’t meant to spoil the evening for her. Drawing her back into his arms, he held her gently and securely until she relaxed.

She’d tell him if she wanted to tell him, he reasoned. But the revelation had intrigued him. There was obviously so much more to uncover in this woman who favoured dull brown suits—perhaps an artistic diva waiting to break out. But as far as he was concerned, she must remain a shy, brown mouse who was under his protection while she was in Rome. Katie Bannister might be many things, but she was not a seductress—and even if in this sultry setting she appeared to be, it was up to him to keep things light between them and send her home as innocent as the day she had arrived in Italy.’ Reluctantly he disentangled himself from her arms. ‘Andiamo, piccolo topo—’

‘I am not your little mouse,’ she slurred.

And then he realised that three glasses of wine was probably her annual quota back home and she had drunk Gino’s firewater as if it were cordial—which almost certainly accounted for her openness about her opera training too.

‘You must learn to call me Signorina Bannister,’ she insisted, drawing her taupe brows together in her approximation of a fierce stare.

‘Bene,’ he said, happy to indulge her—at least on that one point.

‘It’s much better if we keep it…’ She frowned as she searched for the right word.

‘Formal between us?’ he suggested. ‘I think it’s time I took you home now,’ he said firmly, holding her away from him at arm’s length.

Rigo’s sudden change of mood from sexy to serious was so unexpected Katie blanked for a moment. Only when she finally managed to refocus did she wonder how she had ever wasted a moment thinking Rigo Ruggiero uncomplicated and fun. He was a playboy who lived every moment for the pleasure it brought him before moving on to the next distraction. Gino’s genuine warmth and the restaurateur’s homely restaurant must have clouded her thinking.

OK, that and the wine.

Common sense should have warned her Rigo was not the youth who had pitched up in Rome hoping to make his fortune. Rigo enjoyed these nostalgic visits but that didn’t mean he was the same uncomplicated youth he’d been then.

As he frogmarched her back to the table she faced the ugly truth. She was as naïve as she had ever been and Rigo was the same playboy for whom the main attraction on tonight’s menu of amusement had been an impressionable out-of-towner. He’d played the game for a while, but had soon tired of her lack of sophistication. She felt bad, because she never put herself in the way of rejection, knowing the outcome was a foregone conclusion. And the one time she had…

Katie smiled as she thanked Gino for her shawl. Rigo was already standing by the door, waiting for her. He couldn’t wait to bring the evening to a close. It was up to her to pull herself together and leave with enough pride to be able to deal with him on a professional level tomorrow morning.

Taking a shower in cold reality was the swiftest antidote to male pride he knew. ‘As he held the restaurant door for Katie her cool gaze assured him—don’t worry, you won’t get the chance. Tipping her chin, she walked proudly past him into the night. Even that amused him. Most women with one eye on his fortune tried harder. Katie wasn’t that sort. In her eyes he was a man who preferred racing his sports car to keeping an appointment. Shallow? He was barely puddle-deep. Yes, all this he could see in Katie Bannister’s cool, topaz-coloured gaze.

He only had to raise his hand and a limousine drew up in front of them at the kerb. ‘Your chariot awaits, signorina. I plan ahead,’ he said when she looked at him in surprise. ‘Don’t worry,’ he added when her gaze flickered with alarm. ‘I’ll see you safely back to your hotel.’

He let his driver help her into the car, which appeared to reassure her. He took his seat in the back, ensuring he kept a good space between them. She didn’t risk further conversation; neither did he. It seemed the most sensible course of action after the fire they’d ignited at Gino’s. He glanced at his wristwatch and was surprised by the way time had flown. ‘If you’d like to make our meeting a little later—’

‘Not at all,’ she interrupted in a way that drew his attention to her lips. She had beautifully formed plump pink lips. The thought of pressing his mouth against them while his tongue teased them apart stirred him. He could imagine how she would taste, and how it would feel when she wound her arms around his neck. ‘In that case, I suggest we have lunch immediately afterwards—’

‘Immediately after our meeting tomorrow I’ll be on a plane home, Signor Ruggiero.’

He awarded her more than one brownie point for that swift riposte. ‘I thought we’d agreed you’d call me Rigo?’

She didn’t answer, and as she turned away to stare out of the window he found the chill between them erotic. He liked a challenge. And, even if he had decided to take her home and treat her chastity with the respect it deserved, he was a man.

She spoiled the mood by asking for her hair clip.

He shrugged and gave it to her, and then had to watch as she scraped her hair back as tightly and as primly as it would go. She only relaxed when she had completed the transformation from lovely young woman to maiden aunt.

But the obvious had always bored him, which was why Katie Bannister intrigued him. So much passion so tightly controlled could only end one way. And remembering her visit to his favourite shop—wha

t a contrast that style of underwear would be to her precisely ordered hair. When did she intend on wearing it? Was she wearing it? What had provoked Signorina Prim into that walk on the wild side? And what would persuade her to take another walk on the wild side with him?

As if sensing the path his thoughts were taking, she looked at him shyly, but, shy or not, that look plainly said he shouldn’t imagine everything had been put on this earth for his amusement.

‘In another thirty-six hours,’ she said, and with rather too much relish, he thought, ‘I’ll be back at my desk in Yorkshire—’

‘In that case we’ll have to work quickly,’ he said.

She flashed him a concerned glance.

‘I’ll take you to the airport immediately after the reading of the will.’

He felt sure she would refuse this offer, but instead she said, ‘Thank you, Signor Ruggiero, that will save me taking a cab.’

Katie was on tenterhooks until they reached the hotel. She couldn’t wait to bury her head under a pillow and wish the night away so it could be morning and she could gabble out the contents of the will and go home to her dull, quiet, safe life. To her disappointment, for the remainder of the journey home Rigo had no trouble keeping things on a business footing and didn’t speak to her at all. By the time they reached the hotel she was tied up in knots.

He escorted her across the lobby and even insisted on pressing the elevator button. When the lift doors slid open he kept his finger on that button as he said, ‘Goodnight, Signorina Bannister. I hope you sleep well. And don’t worry about calling a cab in the morning—I will send a car for you.’

She said thank you for the evening and then got into the lift. She wished, hoped, prayed, Rigo would step in after her. Of course, he didn’t. Something she had every cause to be grateful for, Katie reasoned sensibly as the elevator door closed.