In that same timeless moment, Jo turned pale as death, overpowered with regret for those fiery, merciless words. Such an attack had been beneath her and a low blow when it came to such a sensitive subject. Particularly when he had welcomed her warmly into his home. Since when had she stood in judgement over others?
‘Gianni...’ she said stiltedly. ‘I am really sorry. That was cruel, unkind, and derogatory. I don’t know what came over me...or maybe I do. The past few weeks...all the bank visits and getting shot down in flames, trying to pretend everything was normal for my grandmother to keep her calm. I’m afraid the stress got to me and that I took it out on you. But that’s not an excuse.’
‘No, it’s not,’ Gianni agreed very quietly. ‘And a highly inadvisable approach for someone in need of a loan. But because you were honest, I will be equally frank. Repossession or bankruptcy was always on the cards for you and Ladymead because you lack the income to support living in such a house. I planned to pick up Ladymead when you were forced to leave it. It’s not a burning ambition for me as it was for my father, but there is no advantage to me in helping you or your family to remain there.’
‘I kind of guessed that,’ she muttered unevenly, still pale as milk and trembling a little from the shock of losing her temper to such an extent and the struggle it was not to tell him things that he wouldn’t want to hear.
Such as the fact that he was worth so much more than those sleazy headlines. He had succumbed to the temptation of some slutty scam artist, but he could do so much better and would be so much happier if only he would put value on something less ephemeral than a cheap sexual thrill. It infuriated her that he was so short-sighted, so set against falling in love, so determined to reduce relationships between men and women to the lowest common denominator. And it shamed her that, when she had first seen that photo, she had been jealous that it wasn’therwith him. Naturally, an alternative imaginary version of her, a woman sexually confident enough to tease him in a raunchy corset. And how weird and unforgivable was that when she had thrown his miscalculation in his teeth like a challenge?
How much worse was it that instead of concentrating on his refusal to loan her family money, she was knee deep and wallowing in a personal reaction to Gianni that had no place between them?
‘I’ll leave now,’ she muttered, calling Fairy from her slumber, eager to be gone and yet devastated that he had refused to help her family. Somehow, inexplicably, even though she had known that a positive answer would have gone against his essentially predatory nature, she had still contrived to hope for a different response.
‘Join me for dinner at La Vie en Rose tomorrow evening. I’ll pick you up at eight,’ Gianni told her, rather thanaskedher. ‘I may have a solution for you that also benefits me but I want a day to think the concept over. And, no, don’t shoot yourself in the foot by voicing another knee-jerk refusal to my invitation!’
Flustered by that unexpected assurance and the invitation, Jo snatched in a ragged breath and nodded her head. Dinner with Gianni? No, don’t think about that, she urged herself irritably. Think about what kind of solution to her family’s financial problems could possibly offer benefit to a filthy rich Renzetti, blessed in every way. Her mind was a complete blank. But of course he wasn’t blessed ineveryway, she reminded herself ruefully. Being rich didn’t protect Gianni from having problems, not least the scandal that he had unleashed with his uninhibited sexual appetite.
He owned the very exclusive French restaurant in the village. Nobody in Jo’s family had ever dined there because it was Michelin-starred and extremely expensive. Well, no doubt if she could get over her nervous tummy, she would at least enjoy a rare treat, she told herself soothingly as she packed Fairy back into the pickup truck.
Gianni strode through to the drawing room and poured himself a brandy while watching Jojo drive off in her battered, noisy vehicle. He had not seriously considered the possibility of taking his father’s advice and getting married until he found himself involuntarily picturing Jojo in the role. Jojo was a perfect fit for his blueprint. She had impeccable credentials. Charitable work, church work, loyal to her family, former fiancée of a decorated soldier. Her reputation was so clean it shone like a halo next to his own.
Gianni had few illusions about himself. He knew that he was brilliant in business. He also knew that he was ruthless, occasionally callous, selfish and quick-tempered, not to mention sporadically impulsive. And right at this very moment, a foolish and fleeting sexual impulse was threatening to destroy his career and everything he had worked so hard to achieve. Nothing less than that threat would have induced him to consider marriage toanywoman.
Jojo, however, was in a class of her own. For a start, Gianni found her very attractive and she had all the allure of being the only woman who had ever said no to him. He had wanted her for several years and had resolutely suppressed that desire. On two occasions when the desire had overpowered his scruples, he had invited her out to dinner. Ironically, he had felt weirdly relieved when she had turned him down. After all, prior to his current crisis, what could he have offered her? She would have wanted meaningful, and he would have wanted a one-night stand. He was well aware of his limitations. Keeping his distance had been the kindest thing he could do for both of them.
Marriage held little attraction for him. His parents had been miserable together even before cancer first afflicted his mother. They had had separate bedrooms and his father had kept a mistress and nothing could have hidden the truth that his parents had barely a thought in common. Even raising their only child had been a cause of disagreement between them, his father insisting that his mother was too soft with him, his mother refusing to forgive his father for sending Gianni to boarding school. Nobody was more aware than Gianni that marriage could be a stony road paved with obstacles and bitterness. Yet he was equally aware that his seemingly cold father had grieved deeply after his wife’s death and he had never understood that conundrum. Jojo was of a different ilk, Gianni reasoned. There was nothing cold, hard or bitter about her. She would, undoubtedly, endeavour to improve him but he decided that he could live with that just as he was likely to have to live with generous doses of the crazy parrot, the nutty family and the homicidal McTavish. In return, she would take care of his homes, act as his hostess and nag him into attending church more often. But in spite of the drawbacks he foresaw, he also believed she was a catch and a top-quality one.
Unaware of the sterling talents being awarded to her, Jo returned to her family and explained only that Gianni would give her an answer over dinner the following evening.
‘He’s trying to get his pound of flesh,’ Sybil opined darkly. ‘He’s finally getting you out to dinner. Make sure you don’t end up on the dessert menu, Jo!’
‘It’s a business proposition. He probably wants to check everything out first,’ her grandmother reproved her sister. ‘He would have to consult his solicitor and estate manager as well.’
‘Have you seen the way Gianni Renzetti looks at Jo?’ Sybil scoffed. ‘Like she’s a juicy rabbit and he’s a fox!’
‘Are you trying to put Jo off dining with him?’ Trixie asked, glancing at her great-niece’s burning cheeks. ‘I’m quite sure he will be able to restrain himself for one meal.’
‘What on earth are you going to wear?’ Sybil pressed.
‘The dress I wore to Ralph’s regimental dinner.’
‘Oh, yes, that’s very pretty on you, and I’ll do your make-up and hair,’ Sybil announced with pleasure.
‘So although you don’t think he can be trusted, you’re happy to doll her up like a human sacrifice?’ Trixie sniffed disapprovingly.
‘Will you stop worrying? I can look after myself,’ Jo declared with quiet confidence, and she left her relatives to do a stint in Trixie’s shop so that her great-aunt could enjoy a longer tea break.
That same confidence had dwindled a good deal by the time Gianni drew up at Ladymead in a very snazzy sportscar. Jo had gone for a more natural look than Sybil favoured, reluctant to appear as though she had made a huge effort to impress him. In any case it would be a wasted effort, she reflected, considering the beauties Gianni was regularly seen with. Even at her best, she could not compete with a supermodel.
Watching her climb ineptly into the low-slung car, her full skirt flipping up, Gianni, treated to a glimpse of slender thigh and very shapely legs, was entranced, arousal humming through him in a persistent pulse that would not be stilled. The subtle light scent of something flowery assailed him.
‘Have you eaten here before?’ he asked as he parked the car.
‘No. It’s a little pricey for us,’ Jo said lightly. ‘I heard that there’s a waiting list for a table.’
‘It’s proved immensely popular. Wait,’ he urged as she moved to open the passenger door.
He opened the door for her and reached down a lean brown hand to help her out of the car, his hand dropping lightly to her waist to guide her onto the pavement, her spine prickling with a powerful awareness of his touch and proximity.