The Italian Billionaire's New Year Bride

Matteo gave a small nod. “We’ll need to try and see if we can fit in some sightseeing.”

“Really?” She hadn’t expected that from him, and when he gave another nod she settled back into the soft leather seats and took a deep breath. Rome. Wonderful.

The car pulled onto a long winding road set on a hill. After a few minutes a sixteenth-century-style house appeared in front of her with panoramic views over Rome, the sea and Tivoli.

“How beautiful,” sighed Phoebe as the driver stopped the car and came around to open the door for her.

Matteo opened the front door to the house and gave her a smile as they stepped onto the red-tiled floor. He waited a few seconds as she let out a gasp.

He gave a nod of acknowledgement. “The villa contains within its walls works of art by masters of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. The galleries and lounges all have late baroque and rococo frescoed ceilings. I think you’ll like all the features—the oval staircase, the trompe l’oeil, the wood paneling and the parquet.”

Even though she was tired from the flight the sight of the magnificent villa was enough to kick-start her again. Matteo did a walk through, showing her the five elegant state rooms and thirteen bedrooms. “This place is wonderful,” she said as she clasped her hands to her chest. “Why on earth would your family want to sell it?”

Matteo shrugged and held out his hands. “Because we never use it. You’re right. It is a great property, but when anyone from the family is in Italy we are generally down at the villa in Tuscany where the vineyards are. In the last year I think someone from the family had used this villa for less than two weeks. We only stay here for the odd day on business. It doesn’t make sense to keep the house any longer.”

Phoebe gave a nod. “It just seems such a shame.”

Matteo turned back to her. “So, what do you think? Can you can dress this place to sell?”

Phoebe nodded. “Without a doubt. And you’re right. It won’t take much.” She gave a little smile. “Because this has been a family home, it really just needs a little...” she tried to find the right word “...streamlining.”

Matteo raised his eyebrows. “You mean decluttering?”

She smiled. “I might. The selling point for this house is actually the frescos. Everything else just needs tailing back to let them shine. And I need to help with the flow of the house. That can be done easily by having one color palette throughout the house. I think cream would work best with a few little splashes of red. That will complement the tiled floor and the frescos.”

Matteo nodded. “I think that could work.” He slipped his jacket off. “Which room would you like?”

“Excuse me?”

“Which room? You can pick any one you like.”

“We’re staying here?”

He looked surprised. “I’m sorry. I thought I’d told you that. I imagine you want to get some sleep. Even for a few hours? Then perhaps I can take you to one of the warehouses in Rome. I had my PA search out places similar to the one in New York. I thought it would save some time. Then, we can have a late dinner.” He gave a soft smile. “I’m sure we’ll be able to find somewhere in Rome no matter what time it is. I know you think New York is the city that never sleeps, but give Rome a chance, I think you’ll like it.”

She wasn’t quite sure what to say. “You seem to have everything planned.”

He nodded. “I feel at home here. So, pick a room. Which one did you like best?”

She tilted her head. “Isn’t one of these rooms yours?”

He waved his hand. “That doesn’t matter. I’m happy to sleep in any of the rooms.”

She gave a smile and a small nod. “In that case, I’ll take the room at the back that looks out over the garden.”

“The one that can give you a glimpse of the Coliseum?” He smiled knowingly.

“And the one with the huge canopy over the bed and the ceiling fan.”

He laughed. “It’s all yours.”

She glanced at her watch. “What time should we get up?”

There was a pause as Matteo met her gaze with an amused expression. Blood rushed to her face. What time should we get up? She hadn’t meant it like that, but sheer exhaustion was obviously taking its toll.

She shook her head as Matteo put a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll get someone to wake you around 1:00 p.m. If we sleep too late,” he emphasized the word with a glint in his eye, “it will knock off our body clocks.”

“I guess you’re right.” She looked around for her bag, but Matteo shook his head. “Don’t worry. Carlo, the driver, has taken it up to your room.” He paused for a second. “And, Phoebe?”