Her Mediterranean Playboy Read online

  ‘Tesore mio,’ he said, moving towards her to hook her right arm through his left one. ‘You look absolutely stunning. I almost wish we were not going out to dine after all. I would much prefer to spend the evening alone with you here. I am sure we would find plenty to do to entertain ourselves, sì?’

  Ally felt her face begin to flush as his fingers stroked the bare skin of her arm in a sensual movement that sent the nerves beneath into a mad frenzy. She wished she could step out of his hold, but with the young housemaid looking on with beaming approval Ally knew she was momentarily trapped.

  ‘I have made a reservation at a favourite restaurant of mine,’ he said, as he led her to where his driver was waiting outside. ‘It is up a lane close to one of Rome’s most famous tourist spots—the Trevi Fountain. Have you thrown a coin into it yet?’

  ‘No, not yet,’ Ally said, her flesh tingling where his hand was touching her on the arm. ‘But I’ve heard about the legend. If you throw a coin over your shoulder into the fountain it means you will some day return to Rome.’

  ‘Ah, yes, but there are three parts to the legend. The second and third are not so commonly known,’ he said as he settled her into the car.

  ‘What are they?’ she asked. His fingers brushed against hers as he pulled down the seat belt and handed it to her.

  His eyes were inscrutably dark as they meshed with hers. ‘One coin is, as you say, a return to Rome. However, if you throw in two it means you will fall in love with an Italian, and three coins means you will marry one.’

  Ally studied his face; something in his tone troubled her. There was a glint of devilry in his gaze, as if he was toying with her like a predator with its targeted prey before the final fatal pounce.

  She turned her head and looked fixedly out of the window as the late-evening sun cast golden beams across the green expanse of the Villa Borghese as they drove past. ‘I couldn’t think of anything worse than marrying an Italian man,’ she said. ‘As far as I can see they are not to be trusted.’

  ‘I was thinking the very same thing about Australian women,’ he returned smoothly.

  She swivelled back to look at him, her heart beating irregularly in her chest. ‘W-what makes you say that?’

  ‘You will have to stop looking at me like that, Ally,’ he said. ‘We are supposed to be madly in love, remember? I cannot have you looking daggers at me all the time, otherwise our little charade will be seen for what it is.’

  ‘I think I should warn you right here and now I’m not a very good actor,’ she said in a petulant tone. ‘I was dropped from the school play when I was ten years old for not being convincing enough as a bumble bee.’

  The sudden white slash of his enigmatic smile set her heart on yet another rollercoaster ride. ‘I think you will do very well indeed,’ he said. ‘You were obviously miscast way back then, but this role is perfect for you. You were made for it, sì?’

  Ally didn’t answer. She turned to look at the passing scenery, with her frantically flying thoughts flapping their wings of panic inside her head. Had he somehow guessed she wasn’t who she had said she was? But if he had guessed why didn’t he say so? Why prolong her agony? Why not lay his cards on the table so they both knew where they stood? What possible motive could he have for allowing her to continue what could only be described as her increasingly farcical deception?

  The driver let them out in a narrow cobblestoned lane a short distance from the Trevi Fountain, and within moments of exiting the car the assembled press surged forward, along with a massive tourist crowd, as if they had automatically sensed someone notable had arrived. Cameras flashed and the rapid fire of Italian assaulted Ally’s ears like clanging bells as each member of the paparazzi vied for the best shot.

  Ally tried to look as if she was used to such attention, but the press of hot bodies unnerved her. To avoid them she leaned into Vittorio’s solid frame for protection. She felt the warmth of his palm in the small of her back, making the nerves beneath her skin flutter in reaction and her legs to feel woolly and useless.

  She listened as the questions flew back and forth, but although she recognised a few words here and there she was really at a loss as to what was being said—until a young female journalist with a Scottish accent addressed Vittorio in English.

  ‘Mr Vassallo, a rumour has been going around that you are covering up for your brother-in-law’s affair with Mrs Sharpe by pretending to be involved with her yourself. Do you have any comment to make about that?’

  Ally felt Vittorio’s arm around her waist tighten slightly. ‘Yes, I do,’ he said with an urbane smile. ‘Your people have most definitely got it wrong. This is not a cover-up. Ally Sharpe is not just my current lover but my fiancée. She has already moved into my palazzo, and we plan to marry in a matter of weeks.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ALTHOUGH it was a relief to be finally shepherded into the restaurant a few moments later, the press barred from entry by the stern reprimand of the owner, Ally’s heart-rate was still jumping all over the place at Vittorio’s comment to the journalist.

  ‘I have a special table prepared for you at the back,’ the restaurant owner said to Vittorio. ‘You will not be disturbed, I will see to it personally.’

  He was as good as his word for, although the main part of the restaurant was soon filled to capacity, apart from the waiter assigned to them they saw no one, as fresh bread and olive oil was brought to the table along with the menu and wine list.

  ‘How do you feel about having your photo splashed across tomorrow’s papers and all the European gossip magazines?’ Vittorio asked, once the wine he had chosen had been poured for them.

  Ally compressed her lips, her fingers fiddling with the stem of her glass in an abstracted manner. ‘I’m not keen on the idea, but I suppose if it achieves the aim it will be worth it. Don’t you think the fiancée comment you made was a little over the top?’

  ‘I thought your intention was to find yourself a rich husband?’ he said, reaching for his glass and taking a sip, all without releasing her gaze from the magnetism of his.

  A small frown tugged at her forehead. ‘You didn’t mean it…did you? I mean, you wouldn’t take things that far…would you?’

  He smiled an unreadable smile. ‘You do not find me an attractive prospect as a husband?’

  She ran her tongue over her lips in an agitated gesture. ‘It’s not that…It’s just you could marry anyone you liked. Why would you tie yourself to someone like me given my…er…past? Isn’t that taking family responsibility to extremes? Surely your brother-in-law and even your sister wouldn’t expect it of you?’

  ‘I do not make a habit of seeking my brother-in-law’s approval for my actions,’ he said. ‘I am quite enjoying your company, in spite of what he said about you. I think we could make quite a match of it actually. Besides…’ His dark gaze ran over her like a hot licking flame as he added sultrily, ‘I would hate to think of all that sexual chemistry that pulses between us going to waste.’

  Ally looked at him in heart-thudding alarm. ‘Y-you’re teasing me. You have to be. You c-couldn’t possibly want to take things that far!’

  His expression remained frustratingly unreadable. ‘You know, you really are a very intriguing young woman,’ he said. ‘I thought your whole intention was to find yourself a sugar daddy. Does the thought of marrying a billionaire no longer hold appeal?’

  ‘I don’t like the thought of being married to anyone who isn’t in love with me,’ she said, chewing her lip as she tried to make sense of this latest development. What was he doing, for God’s sake? Testing to see if she would take the bait her sister might have in her place?

  ‘Was that your mistake the first time?’ he asked into the silence.

  ‘I…’ She looked away from his piercing gaze. ‘I’m a completely different person now. What I wanted back then is not what I want now.’

  ‘Another thing I have observed about you that runs against what Rocco told me is that you do not reall
y enjoy being the centre of attention,’ he said. ‘I sometimes feel as if he completely misread you. He described you as an out-and-out extrovert, flirtatious and vivacious, the life of the party. But that is not the real you, is it? You hate crowds. I saw the way you reacted just then. I could feel the tension in your body. You could not wait to get away. How could Rocco have got it so wrong about you?’

  She lifted her eyes to his, wondering if there was more behind his comment than he was letting on. ‘I’m sure I don’t need to tell you Rocco is not the sort of person to be interested in getting to know someone deeply. To put it crudely, he was only interested in getting himself laid.’

  ‘Which you agreed to within hours of meeting him—or so he told me.’

  ‘And do you believe everything your brother-in-law tells you?’ she asked with a pointed look.

  ‘I am not unaware of Rocco’s limitations,’ he said, releasing a small sigh as he replaced his glass on the table. ‘While I admire him in a professional capacity, he is not the person I would have chosen to marry my younger sister. I tried to warn her about him, but you know what young girls are like. They do not like being told what to do. Of course it did not help that she had had a crush on him for years. Chiara has been emotionally vulnerable since our parents died in a road accident when she was a teenager. I blame myself for not being there for her. I was studying abroad at the time, at Cambridge in England, and our older sister Justina was married and living in Athens. Chiara was all alone. I will never forget that phone call…’

  He paused for a moment and picked up his glass, studying the contents before adding, as his eyes met hers, ‘I am probably boring you with all this. I do not normally share such intimate information with just anyone. You are a good listener, Ally. That is something else Rocco neglected to tell me about you.’

  Ally was so close to telling him the truth she had to bite her tongue. He seemed so genuine, so sincere, but how could she be sure?

  ‘I told you what happened between your brother-in-law and I was a mistake,’ she said, lowering her eyes once more. ‘If I could have avoided all of this I would have, but Rocco lied to me. If he had told me he was married I would have never dreamt of getting involved with him.’

  ‘When exactly did he tell you he was married?’

  She tried to recall what her twin had said. ‘Um…I think it was on our last date.’

  ‘Where was that?’

  She felt her heart flap in her chest like a stranded fish. ‘In London…’

  ‘Whereabouts in London?’ he asked.

  She frowned in frustration. ‘What does it matter where it was? A lie is a lie, no matter where it is delivered.’

  ‘That is true,’ he agreed. ‘But it is important for me to know what happened between you and when. I thought it might be beneficial to get your angle and weigh things up in my mind.’

  ‘So you can decide who is more credible?’ she asked, with a cynical twist to her mouth.

  He looked at her steadily for a lengthy pause, the dark intensity of his gaze unravelling her more than he could have imagined as she sat rigidly before him, every muscle in her face twitching under the tight control she was trying to maintain on her features. Her pulse was racing, her skin breaking out in a fine sweat, and her stomach was feeling as if a giant hole had been carved into it with a sharp implement.

  ‘As I said before, the picture he painted of you does not quite fit the frame I see before me now,’ he said, raising his glass to his lips again. ‘I wonder why that is?’

  Ally swallowed against the restriction in her throat. ‘Your brother-in-law is hardly someone I’d be putting my money on to trust,’ she said. ‘He openly cheated on his pregnant wife. What sort of man does that?’

  ‘What sort of woman pursues such a man, in spite of what she knows of his marital status?’ he tossed back.

  Ally clenched her fists under the table. ‘Do you have any idea what it’s like for women of today?’ she asked. ‘Some men these days can be so selfish. They want their cake and they want it with whoever can provide it. They don’t want to commit, they don’t want to stay in for the long haul. Women don’t have the luxury of a seemingly endless timeline. Finding a suitable mate and settling down loom large in a woman’s mind—even a career-driven woman such as me.’

  He hooked one dark brow upwards as he set his glass back down on the crisp white tablecloth. ‘You call working as a sales assistant in a budget fashion chainstore a career?’ he asked.

  Ally gave herself a mental kick and hoped he couldn’t see how on edge she was under his tight scrutiny. ‘I believe it’s important to understand any business from the ground up. I don’t see how cleaning the bathrooms or serving customers is any less important than being a company CEO. If you don’t have good, dedicated staff representing your business you don’t have a business, as far as I’m concerned.’

  ‘I could not agree with you more,’ he said. ‘That is why I am so concerned about my brother-in-law’s behaviour, and why I am prepared to go to such extremes to cover it up. Word of mouth is everything in finance. Glossy advertisements do not cut it, I am afraid. Reputation is everything, and with the business world being so accessible these days it is important to present a solid, dependable image to my clientele—some of whom have invested large sums of money—in my role as their fund manager. It is my professional responsibility to see their needs are met with efficiency at all times.’

  ‘Who is your biggest client?’ Ally asked, out of genuine interest.

  ‘Paolo Lombardi,’ he said. ‘He has financial interests all over the world. Perhaps you have heard of him?’

  Ally hoped her reaction to the name wasn’t showing on her face. Not only had she heard of Paolo Lombardi, she had sat opposite him just a couple of days ago in Prague, discussing the mining portfolio she was responsible for in his company back home. What quirk of fate had brought this about? It had been the first time she had met Paolo in person, although they had exchanged many friendly e-mails and phone calls in the past. He was a lovely man in his early seventies who, as soon as he had sat with her over dinner, had drawn her out in a way few people had ever done. The thought of him blowing her cover was unthinkable—not yet, when so many questions were still unanswered.

  She picked up her glass and took a reviving sip. ‘The name is vaguely familiar…’ she said lamely.

  ‘He is about as big as you get when it comes to investment in Europe,’ Vittorio said. ‘I am not totally dependent on his goodwill, as I have many other important clients, the difference with Paolo is that he is Rocco’s godfather. Believe me, it would not do to have him offside—especially right now, as the markets have been so unstable recently.’

  Ally put down her glass with an unsteady hand. ‘So you have to do whatever it takes to keep him happy, right?’

  He smiled yet another of his enigmatic smiles. ‘If it means marrying my brother-in-law’s mistress, then I am prepared to do it for the sake of my business.’

  She looked at him with wide, astonished eyes. ‘You’re surely not serious?’

  He leaned back in his seat in an indolent pose. ‘There are risks and there are risks,’ he said. ‘Unlike Rocco, I only make calculated ones.’

  Fear beat like a tattoo in her chest as she locked her gaze with his. ‘Are you saying you would go as far as making me your wife?’ she gasped.

  ‘I would only do so with certain conditions, of course.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘A prenuptial agreement, for one thing,’ he said. ‘I do not fancy giving half of my hard-earned fortune away if things do not turn out the way I anticipate.’

  Ally was starting to feel more than a little bewildered. ‘What exactly are you anticipating?’

  He leaned his forearms on the table, so as to bring his face closer to hers. ‘You would be an asset to me, Ally. You are beautiful and smart and young and healthy. We could make quite a match of things. I am at the time in life when I am thinking of settling down and producing
an heir and a spare, as the saying goes. What do you say? Would you agree to be my wife for real?’

  She jerked away from him in abject horror. ‘Are you out of your mind?’

  He waggled a long finger at her reprovingly. ‘You really should not bludgeon a man’s ego so callously,’ he said. ‘I am offering you a lifetime of luxury. You will be generously provided for no matter what happens between us. I thought that was your prime motivation? Or do you change your mind as quickly as you change your hair?’

  Ally stared at him in numb shock. She had totally forgotten about her hair. It was such a stupid oversight on her part. Alex’s hair was waist-length, and had been since she was a teenager, while Ally’s had been shoulder-length for the last couple of years. Out of convenience she mostly scooped it up on her head with a clip, but tonight she had let it cascade around her shoulders, never for a moment realising the implications.

  ‘I had it cut off recently,’ she said, averting her gaze from his.

  ‘It looks nice like that,’ he said. ‘It suits you.’

  ‘Thank you…’

  A silence descended like dust motes from the ceiling.

  Ally took a deep breath and lifted her gaze to his. ‘Vittorio…I think I should tell you—’

  ‘The waiter is coming with our meals,’ Vittorio said. ‘Let us just pretend we are like any other couple enjoying a night out.’

  ‘But I—’

  ‘Ally, you are under no obligation to give me an answer until you meet the rest of my family,’ he said. ‘I think both my sisters will adore you. Chiara will be particularly relieved, now she does not have to worry about you posing a threat to her marriage.’

  ‘Doesn’t she realise what Rocco has done?’ Ally asked in shock.