The Italian Billionaire's New Year Bride

“What do you think?” She sounded a little nervous.

He nodded. “I think it’s good. You’re right about the yellow.” He glanced around. “I just hope you can find what you need—and quickly,” he added with a murmur.

They turned a corner in the warehouse and Matteo stopped walking. The shades of yellow were overwhelming. And it seemed this warehouse didn’t just keep the same color fabrics together. No, across wide display units there were rugs, bedding, vases, lamps and ornaments all in complementary shades.

Phoebe let out a little gasp and walked away, running her hand over a large dark gray rug, with pale yellow circles. “This is perfect,” she said, nodding to the assistant. “We’ll take it.” She moved without drawing breath over to a wooden cabinet with upright rolls of fabric. She pointed to a pale gray and yellow stripe. “I’ll have this one. And the one next to it with duck-egg blue and yellow.” She turned to face the wooden cabinets behind them. “I also want the pale yellow and cream pattern over there. It will be perfect for the master bedroom.”

Her bright pink coat swirled around her as she picked up bedding, ornaments, vases and lamp shades in a whole variety of shades of gray, blue and yellow. When she’d finished loading the trolley she waved Matteo over to another part of the warehouse. “Let’s pick some prints,” she said as she started flicking through a sheaf of prints held behind plastic frames.

The colors stood out, but it was clear that Matteo didn’t have Phoebe’s designer eye. She let out a little squeal as she found a yellow sunflower similar to the one she’d sketched in her designs. She flicked on and found a gold broderie anglaise design, some pale blue cornflowers, and a beautiful beach scene with a turquoise sea.

By now, it seemed that she’d forgotten her apparent bad mood with Matteo. Every single time she found another item she couldn’t stop talking. “This is perfect for the back room.” She was holding a swirling glass ornament in shades of pale blue. “I can see it sitting on a table with a view of Mecox Bay in the background.” She turned and pointed at a pale blue patterned fabric. “And this will frame the windows in the kitchen perfectly. It’s just the right shade of blue. And look at these ceramic jugs in blue and cream. They’ll be perfect to dress the kitchen.” She turned to face him. “Did I tell you I’m getting the sink replaced? There’s going to be dual sinks, deep white Belfast sinks, with a thick dark wood countertop. That, along with some replacement handles, will set the kitchen off perfectly. Oh, and I’ve ordered some new appliances.” She glanced in her diary. “They arrive tomorrow. We’ll need to have a chat about access.”

Matteo nodded. She was like a firecracker. Once she started, she just couldn’t stop. The enthusiasm just brimmed out of her. Part of him wished he’d met Phoebe Gates somewhere else. Anywhere but the house. She had a warmth about her. A glow. And an honesty about her that was sometimes missing in the people he normally came across.

But this was business. This was family business. He couldn’t let it be anything else. The family had decided it was time to get rid of all reminders. And that was what Phoebe would be now, because he would forever associate her with the Hamptons house.

He dug into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys.

“Here, I got these cut for you. I’d be grateful if you could make arrangements between yourself and the caretaker to give all the trade personnel the access that they need.”

She held out her hand then paused. “What about the alarm?”

Of course. He’d forgotten about that. “Give me your phone.”

“What?”

She looked surprised. He smiled as he pressed the keys into her outstretched hand. “It’s a digital alarm, remember? I’ll put the app and the code into your phone.”

She gave him a nod and fumbled in her pocket for her phone, her fingers brushing against his as she handed it over. He ignored the tingle—that little acknowledgement of warmth as skin contacted with skin. For the second time in as many minutes he reminded himself this was a business arrangement and focused on the phone.

It was more outdated than he would have expected. Most business people he worked with had the latest version of everything. After a few seconds he frowned. “No signal. We’ll need to go someplace else so I can input the code.”

He paused for a second as he looked at the loaded trolley. There really was no room for anything else. “Are you done?”

She bit her lip and shook her head. “I just need to pick some leather.” She counted down on her list. “There are seven sofas to be recovered, and twenty chairs.”