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been so delighted when the gourmet deli had put in a repeat order only a week ago, taking almost all her stock.

      ‘Sybarite? Wonderful.’ He said with light mockery. ‘Then why aren’t you paid accordingly?’

      ‘I put all the profit back into the business… I don’t need a lot personally.’

      His eyebrows shot up.

      ‘I live in,’ she explained irritably. ‘I have accommodation and food. I don’t need fancy things.’

      He skimmed a glance over her outfit and she shrank at the hint of disdain in his eyes.

      But then she fought back. ‘I knew things weren’t good—that’s why I started the garden tours as well. I owe it to them to work hard…to help Susan.’

      She’d heard that phrase so many times and Brian was right, she did owe them. They’d plucked her from a life of poverty and neglect… Who knew what her life would have been like if it hadn’t been for their generosity?

      ‘You don’t owe them the rest of your life,’ Alessandro said bluntly.

      ‘No, but I love Susan,’ she said fiercely. ‘And she needs me now.’

      ‘There’s no one else? Not her husband?’ he said dryly.

      Katie froze at the disparagement in his tone. ‘All the times I’ve tried to stand up to Brian… In the end I’ve given in…’

      ‘Because of Susan?’

      ‘Yes.’

      But Alessandro was right, wasn’t he? She didn’t have to sacrifice her whole life.

      ‘I guess because of her…he has a hold over me,’ she said lamely.

      ‘And I don’t?’

      ‘Of course not.’

      But she couldn’t meet Alessandro’s eyes. He had a hold over her in a way that she could never admit to herself, let alone to him.

      ‘So you think that if you marry someone else then you won’t have to marry Carl?’

      ‘Yes.’

      But when he put it as baldly as that it sounded crazy.

      ‘Why me?’ he asked.

      ‘Because you’re outrageous enough to actually do it,’ she said bluntly.

      No one would expect the infamous playboy to settle, and somehow she thought he might enjoy that unpredictability.

      ‘And, according to the rich list, you have more money than you know what to do with.’

      ‘Now, that’s what I originally expected.’ His twisting smile held little mirth. ‘You want me to rescue White Oaks financially? Why not just ask me for the money? Why do we have to marry?’

      ‘Because it’s a language Brian understands. If I’m not married—without the protection of a man,’ she spat sarcastically, ‘I’ll still be controllable. If I’m married, he’ll back off. I don’t want just to be out of reach. I want to be repulsive.’

      ‘Repulsive?’ Alessandro echoed awfully. ‘And there’s no better way to do that than by marrying me? Wow.’ He leaned forward. ‘You make it sound so eighteenth-century… Will you be sullied for ever if you’re with me?’

      ‘Married to you, yes.’

      She’d never forgotten the look of anger on Brian’s face when he’d seen an article featuring Alessandro in the newspapers.

      ‘Brian will hate that I’ve come to you.’

      He drew in a sharp breath.

      Katie suddenly realised what she’s said and sent him a contrite look. ‘I’m sorry—’

      ‘Don’t apologise for being honest.’ He watched her for a moment. ‘You’ll do anything to look after Susan?’

      ‘Almost anything.’ A welter of guilt swamped Katie.

      His sympathetic glance was laced with sarcasm. ‘You’d rather sell yourself to a wealthy tyrant of your own choosing?’

      ‘That’s right.’

      ‘So, between Carl and me, I’m the lesser of two evils? The more attractive?’

      A frisson of danger lent steel to his light query. She suddenly felt afraid of something, felt fear slicing through her too sensitive, too thin skin.

      ‘You’re temporary,’ she said bravely. ‘You like temporary. You never hold on to anything for long. Not women or companies. You take what you want and move on.’

      ‘You really think you’ve done your research on me, don’t you?’ He looked down at her, grimly thoughtful. ‘How can you go back there if you defy Brian so overtly?’

      ‘I think he’ll accept it when he realises his financial problems are resolved. And he’ll see he can’t reach me any more.’ She’d finally be free of his hold over her.

      ‘But what will Susan say about you marrying me for my money? Me, the spurned step-nephew, cast out all those years ago? Won’t she be disappointed in you?’

      A flush of heat singed her skin. ‘I wouldn’t tell her… I’d have to…’

      ‘Fake it?’ he jeered softly. ‘Pretend you’re in love with me?’

      ‘It wouldn’t be for long. Then White Oaks will be safe and Susan can stay there for as long as she has left. Brian can’t bully us into anything. He can’t send either of us away if I own it. I’ll have the power.’

      Alessandro regarded her steadily. ‘Sounds like a fine plan when you put it like that.’ He hunched down in front of her and whispered. ‘But what’s in it for me?’

      She stared into his gleaming eyes, wondering how to convince him—playing to his sympathetic side seemed unlikely to succeed. ‘I thought you might enjoy it…’ she muttered.

      ‘What—being married to you?’ That tantalising smile curved his lips, all arrogance.

      She blushed furiously. ‘Having revenge on them.’

      He pressed his hand to his heart in mock distress. ‘You really don’t think much of me, do you?’ he said slowly, but that edge was still in his eyes.

      ‘You don’t want to take something from them when they took something from you?’

      That glint sharpened. ‘What do you think they took?’

      ‘Your father’s company.’ She swallowed, remembering that fight and the fury with which Alessandro had stormed out of White Oaks.

      There was a moment of pure stillness. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking behind those fiercely burning eyes. She only knew that he was thinking rapidly—but what he was thinking was clear only to him.

      ‘Hasn’t all your research told you I’m more successful than they are now?’ he asked sharply, standing up and stepping back from her. ‘I don’t waste my time thinking about the past. I don’t need their business. I don’t need your sauces. And I certainly don’t need your insane proposal.’

      His rejection hit her in a low, dulling blow. Of course he didn’t. Of course she couldn’t convince him. She was a fool for having thought this could work, but it had been her only plan. She’d been desperate. She still was desperate.

      But in the face of his displeasure she fell back into her automatic safety mode. ‘Sorry,’ she muttered tonelessly. She’d been conditioned for years to apologise when confronted with conflict. ‘I’m so sorry.’

      Angrily, he muttered something in Italian. Something that sounded viciously impolite. ‘What did you think

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