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Pint-sized Valkyries weren’t my type any more than spoi
lt little rich girls.
But I had mulled over her situation and done some Internet research on her and her family during the night I’d spent in a nearby hotel and had decided that offering her a position as part of my team for the upcoming house party at my estate on the Côte D’Azur made even more sense now than before.
She might currently be destitute, but her family had an aristocratic lineage that could be traced back to the Huguenots and the highest echelons of British high society. She was the bastard issue of her mother’s affair with the married younger son of a British duke. Her great-grandfather had been a French count and one of her grandfathers that British duke. Maybe her father and her father’s family had never acknowledged her. But that blue blood still ran through her veins—while mine was as red and wild as the poppies that grew in abundance in the fields outside the house.
She had, no doubt, gone to the best schools, while I had learned my lessons on the back streets of Naples, scrapping and struggling for every single bite. And, while no one knew the full degradation of my heritage, everyone knew I had come from nothing. I was a gambler, a self-made billionaire, and while I had always been proud of what I had achieved, having her as part of my team at this event would give me a status I could use—a bankable commodity which I was more than happy to pay for.
And her skills at the table would be invaluable if used properly.
In some ways, our circumstances weren’t all that dissimilar. She was illegitimate too, and had been at the mercy of forces beyond her control. Like me, she had worked hard to rise above her circumstances, the way I had worked hard to rise above my station and erase the circumstances of my birth.
But my admiration for her ended there. And giving her a chance didn’t have to mean anything other than that. As long as she understood that I was not a charitable man, and I didn’t do anything out of the goodness of my heart—because I really didn’t have a heart. After all, I had been careful to cut it out ever since...
I shut off the thought, the shaft of memory not something I wished to revisit.
The two situations were not the same. I had been a child then. I was a man now. A man who had made himself invulnerable to pain.
‘Your sister told me exactly how deep your financial troubles go,’ I said. ‘I have a possible solution.’
‘What is it?’ she said, desperation plain on her face.
‘Would you consider working for me?’ I asked.
‘You’re... You’re offering me a job?’
She sounded so surprised, I found my lips curving in amusement again.
‘As it happens, I am hosting an event at my new estate near Nice at the end of the month. I could use your skills as part of the team I’m putting together.’
‘What exactly do you need me to do?’ she said, her eagerness a sop to my ego.
‘The guests I am inviting are some of the world’s most powerful businessmen and women.’ I outlined the job. ‘They have all shown an interest in investing in the expansion of the Allegri brand. The event is a way of assessing their suitability as investors. As part of the week, I will be offering some recreational poker events. These people are highly competitive and they enjoy games of chance. What they don’t know is that how they play poker tells me a great deal more about their personalities and their business acumen—and whether we will be compatible—than a simple profit and loss portfolio of their companies. But I find that successful people, no matter how competitive they are, are also smart enough to know that they cannot best me at a poker table. So I need someone who does not intimidate them, but who can observe how they play and make those assessments for me.’ I kept my eyes on her reaction, surprised myself by how much I wanted her to say yes.
My attraction to her might be unexpected, but I had spent a lifetime living by my wits and never doubting my instincts. When I had originally considered giving her a hosting position I’d been aware of the possible fringe benefits for both of us and I didn’t see why that should change. She had made it very clear she was more than happy to blur the lines between employer and lover, and all her responses made it equally clear she desired me as much as I desired her.
‘I’ll pay you four thousand euros for the fortnight,’ I said, to make her position clear. This was a genuine job, and a job she would be very good at. ‘Joe can brief you on each of the participants—and what I need to know about them. If you do a good enough job, and your skills prove as useful as I’m expecting them to be, I would consider offering you a probationary position.’
She blinked several times, her skin now flushed a dark pink. But didn’t say anything.
‘So do you want the job?’ I asked, letting my impatience show, annoyed by the strange feeling of anticipation. Why should it matter to me if she declined my offer?
‘Yes, yes,’ she said. ‘I’ll take the job. And thank you.’
Triumph surged up my chest, which seemed out of proportion to what I had actually achieved. Of course she’d said yes—why on earth would I doubt it? And why should I even care that much?
She tugged at her lip. Desire bloomed in my groin and I had my answer. My eagerness to have her in my employ was about physical desire and exceptional chemistry, nothing more or less.
I pulled a card out of my back pocket and handed it to Edie. ‘Joe will contact you with all the necessary details of your employment in a couple of days,’ I said. ‘If you need to contact me directly, my personal number is on the card.’
She took the card and nodded. Then the strangest thing happened—the line of her lips tipped up on one side. The smile was tentative and shy and self-deprecating, but it lit her eyes, giving them a glow which highlighted the shards of gold in the emerald green of her irises.
The jolt hit my chest unawares as it occurred to me I’d never seen her smile before. It only made her beauty rarer and more exquisite.
She ran her thumb over the card, the sheen of moisture in those stunning eyes making the jolt twist sharply.
‘Thank you, Mr Allegri—for everything,’ she said, her gratitude genuine and heartfelt and all the more disturbing for it. ‘I won’t disappoint you, I swear.’
