The Italian's Ruthless Seduction(24)

Bella had made all the right noises, saying she had every confidence in him, but in reality she hadn’t been concentrating, her focus distracted by the way he’d been caressing her as he’d chatted away. He couldn’t seem to keep his hands off her. Not that she was any better. As the night had worn on she’d become addicted to stroking him very intimately, loving the way she could bring him back to erection within minutes of his having climaxed. She’d been doing just that when she’d playfully asked him what she had to do to make sure he’d visit her in New York. He’d just smiled and said she didn’t have to do anything special. Just be there when he arrived at her apartment, wearing nothing but perfume.

A smiling Bella had given him her faithful promise, at which point Sergio had stopped talking and started making love to her yet again.

What amazing stamina he had! And what incredible know-how. He knew exactly how to move when he was inside her. And how to move her. She’d been amazed at the various positions he’d shown her. She was already looking forward to Sergio coming home tonight. She would wear something sexy for him. Something new. The village she’d spoken of to Maria also had a nice little fashion boutique. Or they used to. Hopefully, it would still be there.

It was. Though with a new owner. It had also gone very up-market, selling high-end accessories along with designer clothes. Fortunately, the new lady owner didn’t recognise Bella despite her not wearing the red wig, though she did fuss over her once she realised money was no object. Bella’s stylist had drummed into her that buying quality was always worth it in the end, as long as you didn’t buy super-trendy things that would go out of fashion the following year. The owner was delighted when Bella invested in a sundress, a cocktail dress, a pair of shorts, two summery tops and a lovely cashmere wrap, Bella determined to have something for every occasion during her stay here with Sergio. Her last purchase was a pair of sensible but very expensive walking shoes, which would cope with the cobblestone paths better than the sandals she was wearing. Keeping them on, she asked the woman to hold her purchases till she’d had some lunch, which of course she was very happy to do.

Fifteen minutes later, Bella was sitting at an outdoor table connected to a nearby café, eating a delicious salad and drinking some sparkling mineral water when a brilliant idea came to her. At least, she thought it was brilliant. Excitement raced through her veins at the realisation that this might be the answer to Sergio’s prayers. Bella would have called Sergio immediately with her idea, but she didn’t have her phone with her, having deposited it in the top drawer of one of her bedside tables. She’d been determined to remain out of touch with the rest of the world for several days at least; hadn’t wanted to be confronted by the long line of missed calls that would inevitably be there, along with a whole swag of unread messages. Her mother would be the main culprit, trying to find out where she was and who she was with.

Bella felt a twinge of conscience at this last thought. She supposed it was a bit mean not to let her mother know she was safe and well. And she wasn’t a mean person. If truth be told, she was too kind for her own good, sometimes, especially where her mother was concerned. When her career had first taken off, she’d kept her mother on as her manager for much longer than she should have. Bella had known people didn’t respond well to Dolores’s aggressive, stage-mother manner. She’d been told more than once that she would do better with a professional manager, someone with the experience and the contacts to take Bella’s career to the next level. At the time, she’d been getting only minor roles on Broadway, plus the occasional singing gig on television back home in Sydney.

But she hadn’t wanted to hurt her mother. She also hadn’t had the confidence to take such a step. She’d only been a teenager, after all.

It had been Raoul coming into her life that had precipitated her finally getting out from under her mother’s thumb. An international polo player from Argentina, Raoul had pursued her with the kind of persistence Bella would always find very flattering. Even so, it had taken the Argentinian playboy several weeks to seduce Bella away from her mother’s stultifying influence and into his bed. Any satisfaction he had initially found in deflowering Bella, however, had gradually turned to dissatisfaction. He hadn’t been cruel when he’d broken up with her but he had been blunt.

‘You need to get that mother of yours out of your life, Bella, if you want to become a real woman,’ he’d told her. ‘She is keeping you like a little girl. You need to grow up and take control of your life, and your career. Get yourself professional representation before it’s too late.’

So she had, firing her mother and signing with Josh, who was a top New York agent. Dolores, of course, had put on the biggest tantrum, only alleviated when Bella had signed a contract where her mother still received ten per cent of her income, though only for the next ten years. Which possibly explained why her mother was so keen on her doing that movie, Bella realised, with her gravy train running out in just over a year’s time.

Not that Bella would ever see her mother go short of money. Neither did she want her to worry unnecessarily. Bella decided to bite the bullet and give the woman a call this afternoon, but not till after she’d rung Sergio. He was her priority at the moment. It gave her a warm fuzzy feeling to think she might be able to help him with his family business. Hopefully, he would agree that her idea had merit.

Excited now, she finished her lunch, then hurried along to the boutique where she collected her parcels, saying a silent thanks that the clothes she’d bought were not heavy items. Nevertheless, by the time she arrived back at the villa Bella was a little puffed, having walked at a solid pace all the way. Racing up the stairs to her bedroom, she dropped the parcels on the floor, retrieved her phone from the drawer, turning it on as she sat down on the side of the bed. Ignoring the ping that informed her of all her missed calls and messages, she took a few calming breaths, then called Sergio.

He didn’t answer for several rings, by which time Bella’s heart was racing.

‘Bella!’ he said at last, anxiety in his voice. ‘What is it? What’s happened?’

‘Nothing’s happened,’ she reassured him. ‘Nothing bad, that is. I went into the village to buy a few things and when I was there, I had this idea I thought might be helpful for the business. I would have rung you then and there but I didn’t have my phone with me. Anyway, I got so excited that I practically ran home so that I could call you ASAP. I haven’t rung you at a bad time, have I? You sound stressed.’

‘If you’d seen our sales figures you’d be stressed too. You’re going to have to be a miracle worker, my darling, to turn them around. But I’m all ears.’

Bella was so taken aback by his calling her his darling that she was speechless for a few seconds. Not that he’d meant anything serious by it. But it had thrilled her all the same. Thrilled her to pieces. The possibility that she was falling in love with him worried the life out of her. Not that Sergio wasn’t a man worth falling in love with. He was, his concern for his employees very touching. His spirit was generous, not greedy. Caring, not selfish. As Luigi had said, he was a good man.

But if she did fall in love with him, there was no use fantasising that he might fall in love with her in return. That would be too good to be true. It wasn’t going to happen. Sergio would never let himself fall in love with the daughter of the woman who’d ruined his father’s life. The truth was he fancied her for the reason men always fancied her. Because they found her beautiful and sexy-looking. Love had nothing to do with his feelings for her.

Best you concentrate on just being his friend with benefits, that sensible inner voice warned her. Because to start hoping for more is the way to a broken heart.

‘Bella?’ Sergio prompted. ‘Are you still there?’

‘Yes, yes. Still here. Just assembling my thoughts.’ And trying to be sensible.

‘Is this idea of yours complicated?’

‘Not really. Just hard to put into words.’

‘What’s the basic thrust of it? Try to use as few words as possible.’

‘Well, the bottom line is your products are too cheap.’

‘Too cheap! Are you mad? We can’t compete, price-wise, as it is.’

‘Then don’t. You’re on a losing battle to nothing trying to compete with imports from countries that can make things for a fraction of what you can. You should do what Italy does best, Sergio. Produce stylish, super-quality products for which you can charge a premium. People will pay over and above for true quality. Trust me. I know. I’m one of them.’

Sergio was silent for a long moment before he answered. ‘Yes, I see what you’re getting at,’ he said slowly. ‘My God, Bella, I think you’re right. We should be putting our prices up, not down. What a clever girl you are!’

‘But only if you lift the quality,’ Bella pointed out, glad Sergio couldn’t see how her heart had squeezed tight at his compliment. ‘You might also have to rebrand and advertise extensively. People need to look at your products with new eyes.’