‘I’d pay you for your trouble.’
That stopped her. ‘You’d pay me? How much?’ she said faintly, thinking of her godmother now.
Marco named a sum that drained the blood from her cheeks.
As he had expected, the mention of a large sum of money turned the tide. Every woman had her price. But then Cassandra started stuttering something that sounded dangerously like no—and no was not an answer he could accept.
He turned up the pressure to put her back on track.
‘What are you going to do when you leave here and go back to England? Will you work at the supermarket, stacking shelves?’
‘Why not?’ she demanded, showing no reaction to his scorn. ‘It’s honest work, and I’ve made some very good friends at the supermarket.’
‘And you can make some very good friends in Rome,’ he said, seething with frustration. ‘Friends with fabulous gardens that need a lot of care and attention. You can network at the party, if nothing else.’
She blinked and appeared to reconsider. ‘You’d introduce me round?’
He balked at that. ‘Well, my people would. You’d get your money, and you’d get the chance to network. I don’t see much wrong with that.’
And neither did she, from the look on Cassandra’s face. His senses sharpened as she bit down on the full swell of her bottom lip while she considered his suggestion.
‘I suppose—’
‘You’ll do it,’ he said.
‘I suppose if it will help—’
‘It will help.’
‘But I’ve only brought one dress with me—’
‘I’ve told you,’ he said, forcing patience into his tone. ‘I will provide a dress for you to wear.’
‘I’ll pay you back.’
‘The dress and all the other expenses will form part of your payment. You may keep the dress afterwards,’ he added as a generous afterthought.
She hummed and frowned.
‘You’ll have everything you need,’ he promised. ‘I’ll see to that.’
‘And you’re quite serious about this?’
‘Cassandra, I never say anything I don’t mean.’
He sat back, confident that this time she’d say yes.
‘I need more time to think about it.’
‘No,’ he said flatly. ‘You give me your answer now. Yes? Or no?’
* * *
She couldn’t pretend she wasn’t anxious at the thought of making a return to a shallow world of sophistication that had proved so damaging in her youth, but when she weighed that against the fact that the money Marco had offered would help to pay for her godmother’s ticket to Australia. She knew it was a golden opportunity, and one that might never come around again.
She had to remind herself of this as she walked self-consciously into one of the most exclusive hotels in Rome. At the back of her mind she still had this nagging suspicion that Marco had bought her. But at least she could comfort herself with the thought that he had got the raw end of the deal. She was a gardener, not a socialite, and no number of designer gowns would change that.
But it was too late to worry about it now. She was here, with one of Marco’s people shepherding her through the lobby.
She tensed as the hotel manager approached. The memories of her childhood had faded, but she was sure she had stayed in a place like this when she’d been a little girl. She couldn’t remember her mother being around, but there had always been women. Her father had used women like commodities, and according to the press had possessed an animal magnetism that had made him irresistible. Much like Marco. In her father’s case, this had led to serial infidelities that had broken her mother’s heart.
She had vowed to stay away from this world, and yet here she was.
Cass swallowed convulsively as the manager bowed over her hand and smiled. She had to remind herself that this was all in a good cause, and that it would enable her to buy the ticket to Australia for her godmother.
‘I hope you will be very happy here, signorina,’ the hotel manager said with practised charm.
‘I’m sure I will be,’ she lied, for his sake. This was his hotel, and it was very beautiful. Located on one of the main streets in Rome, it was as discreetly labelled as the dress size of a couture gown. She knew quite a lot about couture gowns now, since her first stop of the day had been to the atelier of a designer who specialised in ‘the style of gown Signor di Fivizzano favoured’, according to Marco’s people, who had arrived in a squad to take her in hand.