Visconti's Forgotten Heir(19)

She somehow knew she had never been able to control the way her body responded to him, and simply prayed that she was mature enough now to be able to resist his devastating masculinity—just as he appeared to be able to resist her. Otherwise where would she and Theo be, if circumstances made it impossible for her to stay on and work for him and she found herself having to give up this job?

His study was at the other end of the huge house, and as well equipped as any modern office. A smaller room right next to it was fitted with filing cabinets and a desk where his PA could work. Both rooms enjoyed a fuller aspect of the poolside.

Magenta spent the morning going through his diary with him, rearranging and confirming meetings over the telephone, and generally tidying up files and correspondence.

‘What made you so sure you were right in your assumption about my...circumstances?’ she challenged, albeit hesitantly, as she was nibbling a biscuit with her coffee. It had been brought in by a middle-aged housekeeper who had smiled warmly at Magenta while maintaining an air of detachment that respected her employer’s privacy. ‘I could have asked for that letter simply because...well, because I had my eye on some luxurious and exciting new place to live.’

From behind his desk he gave her a look that suggested she wouldn’t have been working as she had been if she’d had that much money to throw around. ‘I always make it my business to learn as much as I can about anyone I’m intending to have working closely with me.’

‘So you intended it? Even before I got to that final interview?’

Jacketless, his tie loosened beneath his opened collar, he was picking up his mug, his fingers long and tanned around the pale glaze. ‘As I said, I never leave anything to chance.’

‘Did you know on that Friday? When we bumped into each other in the wine bar?’

He made a rather cynical sound down his nostrils. ‘I didn’t have a clue. Not until I noticed your name on the shortlist on Monday morning.

‘So how did you get the low-down on my situation? Through extra-sensory perception?’

He finished his coffee, looking composed and relaxed as he laid his mug aside. ‘Even I can’t claim to have that particular gift at my disposal.’

‘How, then?’ she demanded as she swallowed the last of her biscuit. Inside she was feeling exposed and vulnerable, and she was wishing that he wasn’t doing funny things to her just by sitting there looking so disgustingly handsome.

‘It isn’t important.’ He sat back on his chair. ‘Only that you’re here.’

‘It is. That information was confidential.’ She dumped her mug down on his desk. ‘Whoever told you, they had absolutely no right!’

‘Maybe not,’ he drawled laconically. ‘But I’ve found that in this world anyone will tell you anything if you make it worth their while. Your landlord’s agents being no exception.’

‘Bribe them, you mean?’

He chuckled low in his throat. ‘You do have a low opinion of me,’ he drawled.

Magenta surveyed him with narrowed eyes, her head tilting slightly. ‘No lower than your opinion of me. So what did you do? Ring them and ask what the situation was on the flat that’s got the “To Let” sign outside?’

He didn’t answer as he stretched out his arms, flexing his fingers before cupping them behind his head.

‘You’re unscrupulous,’ she breathed.

‘And you aren’t?’

For wanting a career? She didn’t say it, although she knew instinctively that it was something to do with that, and it was a long moment after his rather scathing remark before she spoke again.

‘Whatever I did that you think was so bad, I was nineteen,’ she reminded him, thinking about asking him to spell it out for her, but deciding to bluff her way around it instead. ‘And, despite what you said, people do change.’

‘In that case I’m looking forward to a very enlightening few months, he said.

* * *

There was definitely something different about Magenta, Andreas thought, watching from the window and waiting with growing impatience for his caller to ring off so that he could go out into the garden and join her.

She’d gone outside after finishing the tea and sandwiches his housekeeper had sent in, telling him she needed some fresh air. Now, as he watched her looking up at a kestrel that was gliding over the garden, he realised that she had the power to fascinate him as she was fascinated by that bird. She was drawing him in with her dangerous attraction even more strongly than she had in the past. But something had changed...

For a girl who was once very conscious of the way she looked, always retouching her make-up and absently playing with her thick, lustrous hair, she seemed remarkably oblivious to her femininity. She seemed more reserved too than the effervescent nineteen-year-old who had gone a long way to destroying his faith in her sex. Then there was that hesitancy he noticed when she was speaking sometimes, as though she wasn’t too sure of herself—although he was certain that it wasn’t through a lack of confidence.