The Italian's Virgin Acquisition Page 8

  He shook his head. ‘I find that hard to believe.’

  Poppy blinked at him. ‘Why?’

  ‘My experience of women is that they’re all looking for a man to pay the bills. Are you telling me you’re the exception to the rule?’

  ‘Since I pay my own bills and am happy to do so, I suppose I am.’

  Uncomfortable with the way he was studying her, Poppy cleared her throat. ‘Maybe you should tell me where I’ll be sleeping so I can get ready for dinner.’

  With me, was Sebastiano’s first thought.

  Don’t be an idiot, was his second.

  He wasn’t sure if this beautiful, guileless woman was for real but some deep-seated part of him wanted her to be. She’d been surprising him ever since he’d collected her from her flat, and he’d only realised when she had opened her front door how much he had been looking forward to seeing her. He had even made an excuse to visit the legal department during the week, and that impulse had irritated him so much he’d filled the rest of his week with back-to-back meetings.

  He didn’t know what it was about her, but she got to him. Those bold blue eyes that could spark with both humour and fire and held a wealth of secrets; that mouth that was inviting even when it was pressed into a taut line; her body... Dio, her bones were so delicate, her figure so slender, he’d have to go easy on her at least the first time.

  The first time?

  Dio!

  There would be no first time between them. No matter that her sweet scent filled the space between them and made him salivate; no matter that she turned him on to the point that the women in his past became faceless names whenever she touched him. She had made it more than clear that she wasn’t interested in him—that he wasn’t her type. And that was for the best. Even if it grated.

  What had she said on the plane? That he was entitled? And with no sense of humour? By God, when she had said that he’d had an overwhelming urge to toss her onto the bed and show her just what he did have to offer. And downstairs, when she had clung to him like a barnacle on a rock, it was all he’d been able to do to stop himself from hauling her into a dark corner and pulling her skirt up to her waist. Unused to feeling so caught up over a woman, Sebastiano scowled when he realised that he still hadn’t answered her question about the sleeping arrangements.

  ‘You’ll be sleeping in my bed,’ he said gruffly, irritation warring with arousal as her gorgeous eyes flew to his.

  ‘Your bed?’

  ‘Relax, Poppy, I won’t be in it.’

  ‘Well, I didn’t expect that you would but—where will you sleep?’

  Sebastiano glanced at the white sofa against the window that was designed for high tea rather than sleep.

  Her eyes followed his gaze and she frowned. ‘You can’t sleep there. It’s not long enough.’

  ‘It will do.’

  ‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘I can bunk down on the sofa. Believe me, I’ve had worse.’

  Sebastiano frowned, remembering that she had been brought up in the foster care system. The knowledge had played on his mind all the way to Italy. ‘How much worse?’

  She crinkled her nose. ‘Oh, you know—worse.’ She glanced around his luxuriously appointed room. ‘Or perhaps you don’t. Anyway—I’ll take the sofa.’

  ‘Actually, I do know,’ he said, affronted by her belief that he was some spoilt, rich ingrate. ‘I did a year in the army when I was younger, and no matter which country you’re in the ground is always hard.’

  ‘Okay, I stand corrected,’ she said, waving off his irritation as if she was completely unperturbed by his scowl. ‘But I’m still taking the sofa.’

  A muscle ticked in Sebastiano’s jaw. ‘You’re my guest. You get the bed.’ And, so saying, he moved to the door to his old bedroom and pushed it open.

  Poppy followed reluctantly and glanced inside. ‘Big,’ she murmured as she took in his king-sized bed, her husky tone forcing Sebastiano to grip the doorframe a little harder.

  ‘What did you expect?’ he asked, his voice deeper than usual.

  She looked up at him, her blue eyes wide, and he cursed himself for his provocative question. She wasn’t here for sex so best he get his mind back on track.

  ‘Perhaps I could use a spare room,’ she murmured.

  Sebastiano stepped away from her and poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher standing on the sideboard. ‘And how would that look to my family?’

  ‘I don’t know. I had imagined your grandparents would be old-fashioned about sex before marriage and give us separate rooms anyway.’

  ‘I’m a grown man, bella. They would think it strange if I wasn’t sleeping with you. And my grandparents have moved with the times. Apparently my grandmother even has a smart phone.’

  Her soft mouth curved into a delightful smile. ‘You sound put out.’

  Sebastiano dragged a hand through his hair. ‘This whole weekend has put me out.’

  ‘Because you have to be here with me?’

  ‘Because I have to be here at all.’

  She frowned. ‘I thought you loved your family.’

  ‘I do love my family. This...’ He waved his hand around and had no idea what he was doing. The last thing he wanted to do was open up to a woman he barely knew and tell her that this villa brought back too many painful memories he’d rather bury deep than think about. ‘Never mind.’ He took a deep, steadying breath. ‘Usually we don’t dress for dinner, but since the tribe has been invited you might want to make it semi-formal.’

  ‘Thanks. Oh—and one other thing.’

  Intending to plunge himself into work, Sebastiano paused with his hand on his laptop. ‘What is it?’ he asked curtly.

  ‘Even though you don’t seem to want to be here you might want to be a little less obvious about the whole work thing. A man in love would take some time to enjoy himself with his girlfriend while he was here.’

  Sebastiano frowned. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Before, when you found out your grandfather wasn’t available, you kind of looked like you wanted to kick something.’

  ‘That’s because I did want to kick something.’

  Her sparkling eyes disarmed him completely. ‘Like I said, you might want to tone that down a little. I mean, isn’t the whole purpose of me being here to show you in a new light?’

  Unaccustomed to having his actions questioned, Sebastiano frowned. ‘The reason you’re here is to do whatever I say.’ He noted the way her eyebrows hit her hairline and it only aggravated him more. ‘Trust me, Poppy. I know what I’m doing.’

  ‘Oh, right, because you—’

  ‘Don’t you dare say it,’ he growled, secretly astonished at her temerity when he realised the direction of her comment. He’d been a superior ass when he’d told her he could handle anything, because he closed billion-dollar deals every day and he didn’t even think his impish cousin would tease him about it as openly as Poppy did.

  She laughed softly and held her hands up in mock surrender. ‘I wasn’t going to.’

  But they both knew that she was and something pulled tight in Sebastiano’s chest when he realised that her light teasing had been to pull him out of the mood he’d been about to spiral into.

  He stared at the closed bedroom door long after she had disappeared through it. Usually the women he dated thought more about themselves than anyone else, and he wasn’t completely comfortable to think that Poppy wasn’t one of them.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  POPPY CLOSED THE door on Sebastiano’s scowling face and leant back against it, waiting for the butterflies to resettle in her stomach. She didn’t know why she felt the need to tease him; she just couldn’t seem to help herself. He was so serious most of the time, so controlled, and she couldn’t help but wonder what had made him that way, and whether he allowed anyone to penetrate beneath his aloof exterior.

  Let it go, Poppy, she urged her curious side. You’re not here to fix the guy.

  Sighing, she spied the
bed and the row of shopping bags that must have been delivered to her room while she had been downstairs. Right now she longed for more than a shower and a change of clothing. She longed to go home, the instinctive need to protect herself riding her hard.

  She checked her phone for any further messages from Simon but he must still be in the movie. She smiled as she remembered snapping a heap of photos on her phone on the drive from Naples to the house and sending them to him. He had replied with a playfully annoyed face after he’d received them, telling her that he should be there with her.

  Next time she’d love to bring him. Not that next time would be any time soon. Once Poppy finished her degree, she would be working hard to give them both a better standard of living, not holidaying in exotic locations such as this.

  Glad for that reality check, she headed for the bathroom, sighing at her pale complexion. The weekend had barely started and already she felt like a fish out of water.

  After washing and drying her hair with the luxurious products set out on the marble bench top, Poppy padded back into the bedroom and paused in front of a walk-in closet as big as a shipping container. Someone—most likely one of the discreet white-coated servants she had noticed earlier—must have unpacked her duffle bag because her measly amount of clothing hung in a forlorn row as if the wearer had needed to escape in a hurry and had left the dregs of their wardrobe behind.

  An image of Nicole in her svelte purple dress slid into Poppy’s mind. She knew she could never pull off Nicole’s polished poise if she spent a century getting ready, but she guessed that whatever was in those bags beside the bed would get her closer to the mark than what was currently hanging limply in front of her.

  Was she being silly in her insistence that she wasn’t going to wear any of them?

  Probably, and she recalled the vow she had made back on the plane to make their relationship look real. A pretence that would require a lot of acting, and well, what was an actor without a costume? Or a knight without armour? What was a person without integrity?

  The thought stayed her. She was already compromising hers by fabricating this relationship with Sebastiano so that he could take control of his family’s company; she wasn’t going to expound that by pretending she was someone she wasn’t.

  It was probably only pride driving her decision to ignore the shiny bags, but it was all she had to hold her head up high, and she wouldn’t compromise that.

  Sighing deeply, she once again scanned her clothes and pulled a green jersey dress from the hanger. She had found it at a vintage shop and Maryann liked it on her.

  ‘It shows off your legs,’ she’d said. ‘Especially when you team it with those sexy black heels with the little strap around the ankle.’

  Dressing quickly, she tied her hair back in a stylish ponytail and slid her feet into said sexy black heels. She rarely had a chance to dress up in her day-to-day life, and a fizz of excitement invaded her belly as she stared at herself in the mirror.

  Would Sebastiano admire her in the dress, or would he be angry that she was not wearing one of his offerings?

  Poppy’s lips flattened as she realised where her thoughts were leading her.

  She didn’t want Sebastiano to like her or approve of her; she just needed to convince his family she was someone he could fall in love with. Her gaze fell to her Mickey Mouse watch. So far she’d never had any cause to take it off and, since it was more playful than garish, she stubbornly decided that she wasn’t going to now. No matter that Sebastiano would not date a woman who wore it. As she’d said to him, he could invite someone more sophisticated to Italy if image was so important to him!

  Hearing a text come in on her phone, she smiled as she opened Simon’s message telling her all about the movie he had just seen. Texting back made her feel more like her usual self, and she was so absorbed she didn’t even hear Sebastiano until he bit out a terse. ‘Let me know when you’re done.’

  Whirling around, her heart skipped a beat when she saw him standing in the open doorway.

  ‘I did knock, but you were too busy on your phone to hear it.’

  Poppy took in his black trousers and matching shirt that was rolled to his elbows. He looked every inch the arrogant bad boy that he was and she warned her heart to settle down. A woman would have to be mad—or incredibly sure of herself—to take on a man like him. And she was neither.

  Still, she was only human, and an unwilling awareness flared inside her, along with that old feeling of wanting to desperately hold on to something but knowing it would never be yours to keep.

  ‘Right.’ She moistened her dry lips. ‘I take it it’s show time?’

  His eyes fell on the unopened bags by the bed and his lips tightened. ‘Like I said, follow my lead and everything will be fine.’

  Poppy smoothed down the skirt of her dress and walked towards him. ‘What does “follow your lead” mean, exactly?’

  ‘It means stop fretting.’ He glanced at her fingers that were pleating a fold into her skirt.

  ‘I’m not fretting,’ she said, feeling uncomfortably exposed by the fact that he had picked up on her nervous habit. ‘Okay, maybe I am a little, but—’ A wave of panic assailed her and she grabbed on to his forearm without meaning to. ‘But I really don’t think—’

  ‘This will work?’

  He raised a brow and Poppy scowled.

  ‘Well, I don’t see how it can,’ she said hotly, annoyed that he wasn’t taking her concerns seriously. ‘We’re from different worlds, Sebastiano, and I feel badly about lying to your family. They’re really nice and I’m not that great an actress. They’ve probably already seen through me.’

  ‘So, if they were fire-breathing dragons, that would make it easier?’

  She glared at him. ‘I’m being serious.’

  ‘So am I.’ He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. ‘To address your first concern about us being from different worlds, my nonna worked in my nonno’s kitchen when they met so, believe me, you working for me will just seem romantic to them. As to your second concern...’ He shrugged. ‘We won’t lie.’

  Poppy blinked as she absorbed his words. ‘I think you might have to clarify what you mean,’ she said warily. ‘Your cousin already said she couldn’t wait to hear the details of how I landed you!’

  ‘All you need to do is pretend that we’re in a relationship but as to the details...we stick to the truth as much as possible. We met six weeks ago when you came to work for me—’

  ‘Technically we met a week ago.’

  ‘A minor detail.’ He shrugged. ‘We can say we only got together recently—which is true—so our relationship is still new.’

  She frowned. ‘I thought you wanted me to pretend that you’re the light of my life?’

  Sebastiano’s lip curled sardonically. ‘Since seeing Nicole’s unbounded enthusiasm, I think it’s too difficult to pull off the whole “desperately in love” angle. It will have to be enough that my family thinks we are a couple. If my grandfather interprets that as a lifetime commitment, that’s his problem, not mine.’

  Poppy bit her bottom lip, expecting to feel relief at his words, but somehow feeling slightly deflated instead. Why she should, though, she didn’t know. Of course a man like Sebastiano would find it difficult to pretend to be desperately in love with a woman like her. Hadn’t he already said as much?

  ‘Fine,’ she managed in a falsetto voice. ‘But what if that’s not enough for him to hand you the CEO position?’

  It was a good reminder of why they were both here and Sebastiano grabbed on to it so that he wasn’t tempted to grab onto her and show her all the reasons it would be a good idea for them to forget dinner and share his very comfortable, very big bed behind them. ‘I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.’

  ‘Okay,’ she said, grabbing a brightly coloured shawl from the back of a chair. ‘It’s your show.’

  Sebastiano looked down at her as she came to stand beside him. It was his show, so why didn’t he fee
l like he was running things?

  Frowning, he deliberately invaded her space, fascinated by the tiny pulse point that started fluttering in her creamy throat. ‘It is my show, and what I need from you is no unnecessary touching, no inquisitive questions and no elaborating on our story. Do you think you can do that, intern?’

  The pulse at the base of her throat jumped before speeding up even more. ‘Of course I can do that.’ She gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. ‘One ready-made, non-adoring, fake girlfriend to go.’

  ‘Good.’ He let out a calming breath and ignored the tightness in his chest.

  * * *

  Of course she couldn’t do that, Sebastiano thought two hours later as frustration turned his muscles hard. The woman was a law unto herself and she didn’t even seem to know it. A human wrecking ball. Not that she had spilt anything on him this time. No, she was just playing havoc with his senses: brushing up against him every time she shifted in her seat; stroking her fingers across his forearm every time she needed something. Water. Salt. Sugar. The last time she’d leant into him, he’d nearly dumped the entire contents of the table in front of her so she wouldn’t have to ask for anything else.

  And all the while she was completely charming, regaling his family with stories about working for his company, and how she had accidentally thrown coffee over him when they had met—leading Giulietta to ask if it had been love at first sight.

  Poppy had thrown to him for that one, nibbling on her plump lower lip as if she wasn’t sure how to respond. And how was he supposed to answer, other than to say yes?

  Che palle! His family would have him setting a wedding date if he wasn’t careful!

  She had also talked about how she wanted to help those less fortunate than she was when she finished law, and all the while she hadn’t revealed any real details about her past, always managing to draw his family’s interest back onto more present day issues. She was slick, he’d give her that, but little did she realise that, the less she revealed about herself, the more he wanted to know.