The Italian's Ruthless Seduction

‘Tell you what, Bella,’ Jeremy said, interrupting her runaway train of thought.

‘What?’ she said, hoping she didn’t look as hot as she was suddenly feeling.

‘Don’t you ring him. Leave that up to me.’

‘But...but...’

‘Trust me when I say there isn’t a meeting alive which can’t be postponed, or shortened, or abandoned altogether. All you have to know is what to say.’

Bella winced inside. She tried to think of a logical reason why she should ring Sergio and not Jeremy, but nothing came to her scrambled mind. On top of that he was already getting his phone out of his pocket. In the end, she had no option but to sit back down and try not to look panic-stricken. Though why she should be panic-stricken, Bella had no idea. There was no real reason for her to worry. But worry wasn’t always logical. Sometimes, it was instinctive.

As she watched Jeremy fiddling with his phone— obviously bringing up Sergio’s number—a feeling of imminent doom swamped Bella. She could not imagine what would be said between the two friends that would burst her bubble of happiness, but she just knew that something would. All of a sudden she wished that she’d told Sergio over the weekend that she loved him. She almost had, several times, but had always changed her mind.

She hoped that it was not too late.

But Bella had an awful suspicion that it was...

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

THE MEETING WITH the designers for the new ranges of shoes and bags had just concluded when Sergio’s phone buzzed. He smiled when he glanced at the ID of the caller. Trust Jeremy to remember that it was his birthday. Alex hadn’t, but then Alex wasn’t into birthdays. Rather like Sergio himself. Jeremy, however, had used all sorts of reasons for them to get together over the years, especially after they left Oxford and went their own ways to a degree, birthdays having constituted the perfect excuse for a reunion  . They never exchanged presents or cards, just had dinner somewhere swanky where the bill for the wine and meals could have fed a small country for a week. According to Alex, that was.

Well, there would be no expensive get-togethers this year, with Alex in Sydney and Sergio in Milan. Sad, really. But then Sergio remembered his plan to marry Bella before the year was out. His friends would surely come to his wedding.

Sergio refused to countenance the possibility that Bella might not say yes when he finally confessed his love and proposed. Failure, he’d resolved during the last two weeks, was not an option. He loved her too much for that. And felt sure she loved him in return. It was just a matter of waiting till enough time had passed for her to be confident of his love. He’d almost said something over the weekend but decided in the end it was still too soon.

He lifted the phone to his ear and said ‘Pronto,’ without thinking, his mind still on Bella.

‘Good God!’ Jeremy boomed. ‘Two weeks back in Italy and he’s gone native! If I knew how to say happy birthday in Italian I would. But I don’t. So happy birthday, dear friend. Have you heard from Alex yet?’

Sergio laughed. ‘Are you kidding me? Alex is hard pushed to remember his own birthday. So the answer to that is a resounding no.’

‘I dare say he’s down there in the great land of Oz, making more millions and giving most of it away.’

‘Probably.’ Alex had told them years ago that his goal to become a billionaire was so that he could make a difference to the migrant communities he’d grown up in in the far western suburbs of Sydney where unemployment was high and life pretty tough. He’d been able to get out and live a better life himself because of his near-genius intelligence, but he’d never forgotten his roots. As a philanthropist went, Alex was the real deal. ‘I’ve been expecting an email from him,’ Sergio said, ‘asking for a donation from our share of the franchise deal.’

‘Don’t worry. It’ll come.’

‘True. Now enough about Alex, what have you been up to? Bought an ailing advertising company yet?’

‘No. But I have bought an ailing publishing company.’

‘That’s very impulsive of you, considering you don’t know anything about publishing.’

‘I’m an impulsive kind of guy. Guess what I’m doing right now?’

‘Let’s see. Reading a manuscript, perhaps?’

‘Very funny. I’ll be leaving that up to the editors, especially the new gung-ho one I hired this week to put a bomb up the old ones. No, I’m sitting by a fabulous pool with the most beautiful blonde by my side.’