Loe raamatut: «Modern Romance July 2016 Books 5-8»

CHAPTER ONE

LUCA MORETTI NEEDED a wife. Not a real one—heaven forbid he’d ever need that. No, he needed a temporary wife-to-be who was efficient, biddable, and discreet. A wife for the weekend.

‘Mr Moretti?’ His PA, Hannah Stewart, knocked once on the door before opening it and stepping inside his penthouse office overlooking a rain-washed Lombard Street in London’s City. ‘I have the letters for you to sign.’

Luca watched his PA walk towards him holding the sheaf of letters, her light brown hair neatly pulled back, her face set in calm lines. She wore a black pencil skirt, low heels, and a simple blouse of white silk. He’d never really bothered to notice his PA before, except at how quickly she could type and how discreet she could be when it came to unfortunate personal calls that occasionally came through to his office. Now he eyed her plain brown hair, and lightly freckled face that was pretty without being in any way remarkable. As for her figure...?

Luca let his gaze wander down his PA’s slender form. No breathtaking or bodacious curves, but it was passable.

Could he...?

She placed the letters in front of him and took a step back, but not before he caught a waft of her understated floral perfume. He reached for his fountain pen and began to scrawl his signature on each letter.

‘Will that be all, Mr Moretti?’ she asked when he’d finished the last one.

‘Yes.’ He handed her the letters and Hannah turned towards the door, her skirt whispering against her legs as she walked. Luca watched her, eyes narrowed, certainty settling in his gut. ‘Wait.’

Obedient as ever, Hannah pivoted back to face him, her pale eyebrows raised expectantly. She’d been a good PA these last three years, working hard and not making a fuss about it. He sensed ambition and willpower beneath her ‘aiming to please’ persona, and the weekend would require both qualities, as long as she agreed to the deception. Which he would make sure she did.

‘Mr Moretti?’

Luca lounged back in his chair as he drummed his fingers on his desk. He didn’t like lying. He’d been honest his whole life, proud of who he was even though so many had knocked him back, tried to keep him down. But this weekend was different. This weekend was everything to him, and Hannah Stewart was no more than a cog in his plans. A very important cog.

‘I have an important meeting this weekend.’

‘Yes, on Santa Nicola,’ Hannah replied. ‘Your ticket is in your passport wallet, and the limo is set to pick you up tomorrow morning at nine, from your flat. The flight leaves from Heathrow at noon.’

‘Right.’ He hadn’t known any of those details, but he’d expected Hannah to inform him. She really was quite marvellously efficient. ‘It turns out I’m going to need some assistance,’ he said.

Hannah’s eyebrows went a fraction higher, but her face remained calm. ‘Administrative assistance, you mean?’

Luca hesitated. He didn’t have time to explain his intentions now, and he suspected that his PA would balk at what he was about to ask. ‘Yes, that’s right.’ He could tell Hannah was surprised although she hid it well.

‘What exactly do you require?’

A wife. A temporary, compliant woman. ‘I require you to accompany me to Santa Nicola for the weekend.’ Luca hadn’t asked Hannah to accompany him on any business trips before; he preferred to travel and work alone, having been a solitary person from childhood. When you were alone you didn’t have to be on your guard, waiting for someone to trip you up. There were no expectations save the ones you put on yourself.

Luca knew that Hannah’s contract stipulated ‘extra hours or engagements as required’, and in the past she’d been willing to work long evenings, the occasional Saturday. He smiled, his eyebrows raised expectantly. ‘I trust that won’t be a problem?’ He would inform her later just what extra duties would be required.

Hannah hesitated, but only briefly, and then gave one graceful nod of her head. ‘Not at all, Mr Moretti.’

* * *

Hannah’s mind raced as she tried to figure out how to handle this unexpected request from her boss. In her three years of working for Luca Moretti, she’d never gone on a business trip with him. There had been the odd, or not so odd, late night; the occasional all-nighter where she supplied him with black coffee and popped caffeine pills to keep sharp as she took notes. But she’d never travelled with him. Never gone somewhere as exotic as a Mediterranean island for the weekend. The possibility gave her a surprising frisson of excitement; she’d thought she’d put her would-be travelling days behind her long ago.

‘Shall I book an extra ticket?’ she asked, trying to sound as efficient and capable as she always was.

‘Yes.’

She nodded, her mind still spinning. She needed to call her mother as soon as possible, make arrangements... ‘I’ll book an economy ticket—’

‘Why on earth would you do that?’ Luca demanded. He sounded irritated, and Hannah blinked in surprise.

‘I hardly think, as your PA, I’d need to travel first class, and the expense—’

‘Forget the expense.’ He cut her off, waving a hand in dismissal. ‘I’ll need you seated with me. I’ll work on the flight.’

‘Very well.’ She held the letters to her chest, wondering what else she’d need to do to prepare for such a trip. And wondering why Luca Moretti needed her on this trip when he hadn’t needed her on any other. She studied him covertly, lounging as he was in his office chair, his midnight-dark hair rumpled, his thick, straight brows drawn into frowning lines, one hand still drumming the top of his ebony desk.

He was an incredibly handsome man, a compelling, charismatic, driven man; one business magazine had called him ‘an elegant steamroller’. Hannah thought the nickname apt; Luca Moretti could turn on the charm, but it was only to get what he wanted. She’d observed him from the sidelines for three years and learned how to be the most efficient PA possible, and invisible when necessary. She liked her job; she liked Luca’s force of personality, his boundless energy for his work. She’d always admired his determined work ethic, his drive for success. She might only be a PA, but she shared that drive, if not quite to the same degree.

‘Very well,’ she said now. ‘I’ll make the arrangements.’ Luca nodded her dismissal and Hannah left his office, expelling her breath in a rush as she sat down at her desk. She and Luca were the only occupants of the top floor of his office building, and she appreciated the quiet to organise her thoughts.

First things first. She called the airline and booked an additional first-class ticket for herself, wincing at the expense even though Luca Moretti could well afford it. As CEO of his own real-estate development empire, he could have afforded his own jet.

That done, she quickly emailed her mother. She would have called, but Luca forbade personal calls from the office, and Hannah had always obeyed the rules. This job meant too much to her to flaunt them. She’d just hit Send when Luca emerged from his office, shrugging on his suit jacket and checking his watch.

‘Mr Moretti?’

‘You’ll need suitable clothes for this weekend.’

Hannah blinked. ‘Of course.’

‘I don’t mean that.’ Luca gestured to her clothes, and Hannah was unable to keep from looking down at her professional yet understated outfit. She took pride in how she dressed, and she made sure to buy as high quality clothes as she could afford.

‘I’m sorry...?’

‘This weekend is as much a social occasion as a business one,’ he explained tersely. ‘You’ll need appropriate clothing—evening gowns and the like.’

Evening gowns? She certainly didn’t have any of those in her wardrobe, and couldn’t imagine the need for them. ‘As your PA—’

‘As my PA you need to be dressed appropriately. This isn’t going to be a board meeting.’

‘What is it, exactly? Because I’m not sure—’

‘Think of it more as a weekend house party with a little business thrown in.’

Which made it even more mystifying as to why he needed her along.

‘I’m afraid I don’t own any evening gowns—’ Hannah began, and Luca shrugged her words aside.

‘That’s easy enough to take care of.’ He slid his smartphone out of his pocket and thumbed a few buttons before speaking rapidly in Italian. Although she heard the occasional familiar word, Hannah had no idea what he’d said or who he’d called.

A few minutes later he disconnected the call and nodded towards Hannah. ‘Sorted. You’ll accompany me to Diavola after work.’

‘Diavola...?’

‘You know the boutique?’

She’d heard of it. It was an incredibly high-end fashion boutique in Mayfair. She might have walked past the elegant sashed windows once, seen a single dress hanging there in an elegant fall of shimmery silk, no price tag visible.

She swallowed hard, striving to seem calm, as if this whole, unexpected venture hadn’t completely thrown her. ‘That might be a bit out of my price range—’

‘I will pay, of course.’ His brows snapped together as he frowned at her. ‘It’s all part of the business expense. I’d hardly expect you to buy a gown you’ll only be wearing because of your work.’

‘Very well.’ She tried not to squirm under his fierce gaze. She felt as if he was examining her and she was not meeting his expectations, which was disconcerting, as she always had before. She took pride in how well she performed her job. Luca Moretti had never had any cause to criticise her. ‘Thank you.’

‘We’ll leave in an hour,’ Luca said, and strode back into his office.

Hannah spent a frantic hour finishing up her work and making arrangements for the trip, ensuring that each part of the journey could accommodate an extra passenger. She knew Luca was staying with his client, hotelier Andrew Tyson, and she hesitated to contact the man directly to make sure there was an extra bedroom. It seemed a bit cheeky, asking for a room for herself in the tycoon’s luxurious villa, but what else could she do?

She was just composing an email to Andrew Tyson’s PA when Luca came out of his office, shrugging into his suit jacket, his face settling into a frown as he caught sight of her.

‘Aren’t you ready?’

‘I’m sorry, I’m just emailing Mr Tyson’s PA—’

His frown deepened. ‘What for?’

‘To arrange for an extra bedroom—’

‘That won’t be necessary,’ Luca said swiftly, and then leaned over and closed her laptop with a snap.

Hannah stared at him, too surprised to mask the emotion. ‘But if I don’t email—’

‘It’s taken care of.’

‘It is?’

‘Don’t question me, Hannah. And in future please leave all communications with Mr Tyson to me.’

Stung, she recoiled a bit at his tone. ‘I’ve always—’

‘This negotiation is delicate. I’ll explain the particulars later. Now let’s go. I have a lot of things to do tonight besides buy you some clothes.’

Her cheeks burned at his dismissive tone. Her boss was often restless and impatient, but he wasn’t rude. Was it her fault that her wardrobe wasn’t that of a socialite? Wordlessly she rose from her desk and took her laptop, about to slide it into her messenger bag.

‘Leave that.’

‘My laptop?’ She stared at him, flummoxed. ‘But I’ll need it if we’re to work on the plane—’

‘It won’t be necessary.’

A finger of unease crept along her spine. Something felt very off about this weekend, and yet she could not imagine what it was. ‘Mr Moretti, I don’t understand...’

‘What is there to understand? You’re accompanying me on a weekend that is as much a social occasion as it is a business one. I’m asking you to use some sensitivity and discretion, as the situation is delicate. Is that beyond your capabilities, Miss Stewart?’

Her face burned at being given such a dressing-down. ‘No, of course not.’

‘Good.’ He nodded towards the lift doors. ‘Now let’s go.’

Stiff with affront, Hannah took her coat and followed Luca to the lift. She waited, staring straight ahead, trying to master her irritation, until the doors pinged open and Luca gestured for her to go in first. She did so, and as he followed her she was conscious in an entirely new way of how he filled the space of the lift. Surely they’d ridden in the lift together before, many times. Yet now, as Luca stabbed the button for the ground floor, she felt how big he was. How male. His shoulders strained the seams of his suit jacket, and his rangy, restless energy made the very air seem as if it were charged. She snuck a glance at his profile, the square jaw shadowed with stubble, the straight nose and angular cheekbones. Long, surprisingly lush lashes, and hard, dark eyes.