she’d taken from his father—the “loan” as she called it—he’d expected her to beg for lenience. He’d thought she’d proposition him into forgiving the debt, or at the least take it out in trade.
He’d never dreamed she’d agree to repay the loan, or that she’d actually come forth with any money. If she did honor that agreement, it would take years for her to repay the debt. He’d never be free of her conniving ways!
And where was the taste of vengeance in that? There would be none.
No, he would not let her off easy. He had to hurt her as she’d hurt his family. The inn seemed to be the key.
The inn that she’d elaborately redesigned with his papa’s money!
But even that wasn’t enough.
No, he wanted to publicly humiliate her. He wanted all to see her for what she was—a scheming wanton.
Then maybe he’d feel vindicated. Then his mamma’s honor would be appeased.
Yes, he’d retain her as his secretary, even if it meant generously extending his own secretary’s vacation. From there it should be a simple thing to give the impression that Gemma was much more than an employee.
All he had to do was be less circumspect in his dealings with Gemma and more attentive to her. He had to tamp down his anger and openly flirt with her.
The gossips would do the rest, creating a romance and thereby diverting attention away from his parents’ scandal. If she began to believe she was charming him, then all the better.
Watching her hopes rise and then plummet would be a far more satisfying revenge.
“A friend of mine owns a boutique in Pisa,” he said as he sped down the coastal autostrada . “I am sure you will find a cocktail dress there.”
“I see no reason to buy something new when I have perfectly suitable clothes in my flat,” she said, her chin lifted in challenge.
Designer clothes that his papa had purchased, or more of the same demure garments like she wore now? Since nobody claimed to have seen his papa and her out on the town, he suspected she hadn’t been treated that lavishly.
And of course since she shunned the trappings of a mistress, the liaison had continued with nobody the wiser. Sly. Very sly.
“Consider the dress a gift for your dedication to my father and Marinetti Shipping,” he said, forcing a warm smile that he didn’t feel.
She didn’t voice a protest, but the pinched look on her face said she didn’t like this at all.
Stefano’s smile deepened. When he was through with her, everyone would know she was his paid paramour.
Gemma stared at herself in the dressing room mirror, trying without success to block Stefano’s rich laugh as he chatted with the designer and flirted with any female who ventured near. She’d looked out earlier to find him lounging in a chair with a glass of wine dangling from his long tanned fingers.
Every move he made was fluid, like a maestro conducting an orchestra. The silent music was a sensual caress that left her skin tingling. Left her restive yet compelled her to sway to the rhythm pounding in her blood.
His aura was so powerful to her senses that she had to literally tear her gaze from him to break the spell.
Mio Dio ! How could she find such a callous man attractive?
It vexed her that Stefano had given everyone here the impression they were an item. Protesting would have only drawn more attention to her and the arrogant billionaire, so she closeted herself in the dressing room to try on the selection of dresses that Stefano had chosen.
He’d laughed and said it wasn’t necessary to test the fit. And he had been annoyingly right!
The teal cocktail dress fit her to perfection. The color emphasized the blue-green of her eyes and complemented her fair complexion that she’d inherited from her English mother.
The plunging neckline gave more than a teasing peek of the deep valley between her bosom. It also exposed the dainty necklace that her papa had given her.
A sad smile tugged at her mouth as she ran a finger over the
He’d never dreamed she’d agree to repay the loan, or that she’d actually come forth with any money. If she did honor that agreement, it would take years for her to repay the debt. He’d never be free of her conniving ways!
And where was the taste of vengeance in that? There would be none.
No, he would not let her off easy. He had to hurt her as she’d hurt his family. The inn seemed to be the key.
The inn that she’d elaborately redesigned with his papa’s money!
But even that wasn’t enough.
No, he wanted to publicly humiliate her. He wanted all to see her for what she was—a scheming wanton.
Then maybe he’d feel vindicated. Then his mamma’s honor would be appeased.
Yes, he’d retain her as his secretary, even if it meant generously extending his own secretary’s vacation. From there it should be a simple thing to give the impression that Gemma was much more than an employee.
All he had to do was be less circumspect in his dealings with Gemma and more attentive to her. He had to tamp down his anger and openly flirt with her.
The gossips would do the rest, creating a romance and thereby diverting attention away from his parents’ scandal. If she began to believe she was charming him, then all the better.
Watching her hopes rise and then plummet would be a far more satisfying revenge.
“A friend of mine owns a boutique in Pisa,” he said as he sped down the coastal autostrada . “I am sure you will find a cocktail dress there.”
“I see no reason to buy something new when I have perfectly suitable clothes in my flat,” she said, her chin lifted in challenge.
Designer clothes that his papa had purchased, or more of the same demure garments like she wore now? Since nobody claimed to have seen his papa and her out on the town, he suspected she hadn’t been treated that lavishly.
And of course since she shunned the trappings of a mistress, the liaison had continued with nobody the wiser. Sly. Very sly.
“Consider the dress a gift for your dedication to my father and Marinetti Shipping,” he said, forcing a warm smile that he didn’t feel.
She didn’t voice a protest, but the pinched look on her face said she didn’t like this at all.
Stefano’s smile deepened. When he was through with her, everyone would know she was his paid paramour.
Gemma stared at herself in the dressing room mirror, trying without success to block Stefano’s rich laugh as he chatted with the designer and flirted with any female who ventured near. She’d looked out earlier to find him lounging in a chair with a glass of wine dangling from his long tanned fingers.
Every move he made was fluid, like a maestro conducting an orchestra. The silent music was a sensual caress that left her skin tingling. Left her restive yet compelled her to sway to the rhythm pounding in her blood.
His aura was so powerful to her senses that she had to literally tear her gaze from him to break the spell.
Mio Dio ! How could she find such a callous man attractive?
It vexed her that Stefano had given everyone here the impression they were an item. Protesting would have only drawn more attention to her and the arrogant billionaire, so she closeted herself in the dressing room to try on the selection of dresses that Stefano had chosen.
He’d laughed and said it wasn’t necessary to test the fit. And he had been annoyingly right!
The teal cocktail dress fit her to perfection. The color emphasized the blue-green of her eyes and complemented her fair complexion that she’d inherited from her English mother.
The plunging neckline gave more than a teasing peek of the deep valley between her bosom. It also exposed the dainty necklace that her papa had given her.
A sad smile tugged at her mouth as she ran a finger over the
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