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‘So says the man who grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth.’
‘But you are wearing the silver dress, bella.’ His smile was disarming, his eyes steady on hers. ‘You’re smart and beautiful, Poppy. You probably didn’t hear that enough growing up, but you can take my word for it. My HR department don’t hire duds.’
She let out a shaky breath; she hadn’t heard those words at all growing up. But Sebastiano made her feel both those things, and that made him even more dangerous than he’d been when they had been standing in front of the mirror. At least then she’d known her reaction to him was purely physical. This felt a whole lot deeper.
‘You still have one wish left, you know. Have you decided what it is that you want?’
Poppy looked at him askance. ‘You’re asking me that now?’
‘Why not?’
‘Because...’ She felt light-headed standing this close to him. ‘Can I wish myself away from here right now?’
‘I said it had to be within my power to deliver, bella.’ His fingers stroked lightly across her jawline. ‘That I cannot do without alarming everyone.’
‘Then, no, I haven’t.’
She shifted back a pace and his hand fell to his side. ‘Is being here with me really that bad, Poppy?’
‘No. Actually, it’s not.’ She made a face. ‘Which is why I need pinching. I’ve never seen anything like this place and it feels like I’ve fallen into my very own fairy tale. And that only makes me feel worse, because it accentuates our differences.’
‘I told you, whatever you want, I will get for you.’
‘You don’t get it, Sebastiano.’ She shook her head. ‘You can click your fingers and have anything you want. That’s not real life for most people.’
His eyes cooled on hers. ‘Actually, I learned a long time ago that you can’t click your fingers and have whatever you want, which is why I work so hard. I make sure nothing will ever be taken away from me again.’
Aware that the conversation had deviated down a path they hadn’t been down before, Poppy stared at him. She wanted to ask him what he was talking about but she was also aware that he had withdrawn from her and most likely wouldn’t answer.
‘Sebastiano, come sta? Tutto bene!’ a disembodied male voice called from below.
Sebastiano turned to her. ‘Ready?’ he asked, his gaze hooded as he held his arm out for her once more. Nodding, Poppy descended the stairs beside him, aware of curious eyes turning to watch their progress.
A well-groomed Italian man with an air of confidence about him met them at the bottom of the stairs, a half-empty champagne flute in hand. His eyes did a slow tour of Poppy’s figure. ‘Chi e questa donna affascinante?’
‘Mine,’ Sebastiano supplied smoothly. ‘Poppy, this is a soon-to-be ex-friend of the family, Sergio Stavarone. Be careful; he is unattached and looking to receive a black eye.’
Sergio laughed and took her hand, kissing the back with a wicked glint in his eyes. ‘Just say you don’t want this ugly cretin, bellisima, and I am yours.’
Poppy grinned, she had no idea what he had said but his light-hearted banter seemed to ease Sebastiano’s tension from moments ago. She caught the intense gleam in Sebastiano’s gaze that said, ‘Back off!’ to the debonair Italian and her stomach impersonated a tumble dryer.
‘You’re a really good actor,’ she murmured as he led her to a part of the villa she hadn’t been in before. ‘I almost believed you myself back there.’ Which would be to her detriment, she knew. ‘Is this a ballroom?’ Her astonished gaze swept the vast room lined with ornate mirrors and floor-to-ceiling windows facing the night-dark sea. Beautifully dressed men and women mingled while white-coated servants wove between them, offering drinks and finger food on silver trays.
‘Yes, it is a ballroom.’ Sebastiano grabbed two fluted glasses from a passing waiter, handing her one. ‘And I wasn’t acting. I didn’t like the way he looked at you.’
‘You’re very possessive for a fake boyfriend,’ she commented.
His eyes held hers. ‘I’m very possessive full-stop.’
Poppy’s heart did a little quickstep and she was very glad when a small group of well-turned-out Italians interrupted them. For some reason her defences regarding Sebastiano were lower tonight and, try as she might, she couldn’t seem to find the wherewithal to resist his animal magnetism.
Knowing that could only lead to one outcome—a bad one—she decided to focus on the party and not the man beside her. It was a good idea, because she found that she actually enjoyed meeting and chatting with such a wide variety of people. Most of them were incredibly lovely, although one or two women shot daggers at her as they vied for Sebastiano’s attention. Of course, he was a consummate fake boyfriend and played the part to perfection, always making sure she had a drink, including her in conversations and insisting that anyone who spoke to him did so in English. It was all a bit much, really.
Even so, there was often an undercurrent of something not quite right when some of the older Italians grabbed his attention.
After one particularly circumspect group departed, Poppy turned to him. ‘Why does everyone treat you as if they haven’t seen you in for ever?’
‘Because they haven’t.’
