‘Eight?’she gasped.
‘I’m pushing the time back for your benefit. I usually eat at six.’
‘Even on a Sunday?’
‘At least you won’t miss church,’ Gianni pointed out, sliding back into his car with the feral grace of a prowling panther.
Jo discovered that she was still holding her breath as she walked into the house, feeling as though she had gone through several rounds with a top prizefighter, exhausted and yet excited, challenged and yet exhilarated, dazed yet with her mind still racing. Her heart was still pounding inside her, her legs felt weak and wobbly.
Sybil cornered her in the hall.‘Well?’
Jo smothered a fake yawn. ‘We’re meeting at eight for breakfast before we make a final decision.’
‘We?’
Jo leant closer. ‘Can you keep a secret?’ She had to tell someone, and she knew that she could trust Sybil. ‘He’s asked me to marry him and in return he will take care of everything here.’
‘I suppose you practically bit his hand off for an offer that good...’ Sybil laughed at Jo’s shock at that frank estimation. ‘You’ve always wanted him, Jo. This is not exactly coming out of left field, is it? He does need to rehab his image...but are you willing to risk getting hurt?’
Shifting from surprise to acceptance at her great-aunt’s shrewd reading of her predicament, Jo smiled. ‘Yes. Probably because I don’t think I can resist his proposal. If I said no, I’d always wonder if I’d made a mistake and I’m not sure I could bear seeing him marry someone else when it could have been me.’
‘Do what’s right foryou,’ Sybil urged, giving her an affectionate hug. ‘I won’t offer you any advice, but do appreciate that I can get a proper job and so can Trixie and we can find somewhere to live. We’re far from helpless. I only worry about your grandmother.’
Jo went to bed and lay awake. Her whole body was buzzing with nervous energy.
Gianni couldn’t sleep either. He was thinking about getting married and torn between lust and panic at what having a wife would be like. Jojo had standards,seriousstandards. There would be no grey areas with Jojo, no looking the other way. He didn’t want to be the kind of husband his father had been: lying and cheating behind his wife’s back. He needed to be honest with Jo, however, frank about the reality that he couldn’t offer her love. He understood Jo well enough to know that she wouldn’t be happy to hear that truth. They wouldbothhave to make compromises, he acknowledged.
On the lighter side, Jo would turn Belvedere into a home, something it had not been since the death of his mother, he mused thoughtfully. Furthermore, it was boredom with the women he met that had plunged him into that shabby encounter at the nightclub. Jo was not boring. She made intelligent conversation and could be very amusing and there was something about her, something he couldn’t define, that turned him on so hard and fast it should have been scary. But it was exciting and it had been a very long time since anything outside business had truly excited Gianni.
Jo got up early and put on a light skirt and casual white top, pushing her bare feet into sandals. She decided to walk over to Belvedere and left Fairy behind slumbering in the kitchen. McTavish caught up with her on her walk and she told him to go home repeatedly while he capered around her in mad excitement at the pheasant he had scared into flight.
‘You’re not allowed at Gianni’s house. You disgraced yourself,’ she reminded him and she left him whining on the front doorstep of the mansion.
Abigail led her through the hall. ‘Mr Renzetti fancied something less formal than the dining room, so he had us set up a table on the terrace. I don’t know what’s got into him,’ she whispered. ‘He’s never eaten breakfast hereoutdoors.’
‘It’s a beautiful morning,’ Jo said soothingly.
She strolled out through the leafy orangery to the terrace and there it was, a table set with all the formality of an Edwardian dining room in the open air. Of course, the housekeeper knew no other way of doing things because Gianni’s mother had preferred the pomp and ceremony and Gianni had probably never even bothered to say that he wasn’t quite as enamoured about that kind of superficial show. That was assuming that Gianni had even noticed and she was not sure he would or why he had made such a choice. He had about as much interest in how his home ran as she had in high finance.
‘Jojo...’ Gianni sprang upright, a lean, powerful figure dressed in chinos and a dark green tee. Even casually clad, he looked amazing, his black cropped hair gleaming in the sunshine, heavily lashed dark golden eyes intent as he smiled at her.
‘I don’t think I’ve seen you out of a suit since you were a teenager,’ Jo commented, butterflies flying free in her tummy. She was trying not to reel from the charisma of that smile and the knowledge that if she went ahead, she would always be stressing just a little about the worry of having such a very good-looking husband.
‘I work at home on Sundays.’
‘That’ll have to stop. I’m a firm believer in Sunday being a day of rest,’ Jo murmured quietly.
Gianni’s stunning eyes flashed pure gold and stared into hers with the piercing potency of a laser scalpel. ‘Does thatmean...?’
Abigail bustled about fetching plates, pouring tea and coffee, setting out toast and a basket ofpains au chocolatthat would usually have made Jo’s hand reach straight out because they were a favourite of hers.
Jo angled up her delicate chin, sapphire-blue eyes schooled to a tranquil expression, her calm only a surface show when deep down inside she was quaking at the far-reaching effects of the decision she had made. ‘I suppose it must. However, there would be conditions.’
His strong jawline clenched. ‘Not a fan of that word,cara. I don’t like limits and conditions outside the business world.’
The housekeeper finally retreated and left them alone. Jo began sipping her tea with the same air of composure. Only the realisation that her hand was trembling made her set down the cup with a slightly jarring snap of china meeting china. She didn’t want Gianni to guess how shaken she was by her own daring choice. She had to be strong with Gianni. If she weren’t, he was one of those fiery passionate personalities who would walk all over her. Hehadto respect that she would have demands to make too.
‘The first condition is that I won’t be sharing a bed with you untilIfeel comfortable with that idea.’