LITMIR.BIZ

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on his desk, activating some invisible heat source.

      ‘Travel-weary?’ he murmured, and there was a faintly amused look in his eyes. ‘I forgot—you’ve had such a long flight.’

      And it would be the same short flight home, Katie thought, knowing she would have to sharpen up with this man or be made a complete fool of. She started by putting a professional smile on her lips. ‘Shall we begin?’

      ‘Whenever you’re ready,’ he said, still looking at her with faint amusement.

      Reaching for the thick manila envelope she had put in front of her on the desk, Katie opened it. But concern for its contents washed over her and she stopped. She had heard so many unkind things expressed in wills, and was well aware they could be used like a weapon to hurt those left behind. She hoped she wasn’t the bearer of some last bitter note from Rigo Ruggiero’s stepbrother.

      ‘What are you waiting for, Signorina Bannister?’

      Yes, why should she care what was in the will? She fumbled the sheets and finally managed to spread the document out in front of her. ‘This is the last will and testament of—’

      ‘Cut to the chase—we both know whose will this is.’

      Rigo Ruggiero’s charm had evaporated. He could change in an instant, she had discovered. It would be a foolish person who underestimated him. He had charm only when he chose to have charm.

      ‘My time is short, Signorina Bannister.’

      And you are handling this badly, his expression clearly said. She wasn’t supposed to get involved. She had received this same criticism at work. It was her only failing, the senior partner had told her at her annual assessment. Deal with the facts, Ms Bannister. We are not employed to dole out tea and sympathy—and make sure you keep an accurate time sheet of every moment you spend with the client.

      Even at times like these when she could be revealing anything to Signor Ruggiero? Was she supposed to close her heart and send the bill? She had never managed to do so before, and now she stood less chance than ever. Her clock wasn’t running. They should have sent a more experienced member of the firm if they wanted her to account for every second of compassion in her.

      ‘Please move on.’

      She did so with a dry throat. Even her so-called sexy voice sounded strained. There was clearly no love lost between Rigo and his stepbrother. Didn’t he feel any nostalgia for his childhood? His darkening expression suggested not. She was out of place, out of step here…

      Reminding herself she was merely a servant of the firm, she pulled herself together and got on with it, only to have Rigo explode with, ‘Tcha!’ as the phone rang. He made her jump as he banged the table. Obviously he didn’t want to be interrupted at a time like this, and as he reached for the telephone she spoke up.

      ‘If I answer it I can put them off for you. I can say I’m your PA…’

      Briefly, she thought she saw something light in his eyes, and then with a curt nod of agreement he withdrew his hand, leaving her to pick up the phone.

      ‘Pronto?’ She shot Rigo a glance. People had different ways of expressing emotion when someone close to them died. Carlo Ruggiero had been part of Rigo Ruggiero’s life once—he must be feeling something, though he was hiding it well.

      Refocusing on the call, Katie continued to talk in fluent Italian, and only slowly realised that Rigo was staring at her in astonishment.

      ‘Why didn’t you tell me you spoke Italian?’ he said accusingly as she ended the call.

      ‘I didn’t realise it would be of any interest to you.’

      He looked taken aback, but quickly recovered. ‘No, you’re right. Well?’ he said impatiently. ‘Are you going to tell me who it was?’

      She managed her feelings. This was none of her business. ‘It appears you have forgotten a rather important engagement…’

      He jumped up immediately when she explained. Extracting a phone from his pocket, he placed a call and began to pace.

      He would only break off this meeting before he found out everything for one reason and this was it. The scheme he had set up to fulfil children’s dreams came ahead of his personal concerns. If taking a child around the track in his sports car was being brought forward then there must be a very good reason for it. ‘Of course he can come right away,’ he told his friend.

      Moving out of earshot so Katie Bannister couldn’t hear, he explained his schedule for the day had been thrown thanks to missing the solicitor he was due to meet at the airport—and, yes, he had found the young woman, eventually.

      ‘A young woman?’ his friend murmured with a knowing air.

      ‘A very quiet and respectable young woman,’ he emphasised, staring at the back of Katie Bannister’s head. She had thick, glossy hair the same shade of honey as her eyes, but she wore it scraped back cruelly in a way that did her no favours. He refocused on his conversation and shut her out. His friend brought her back in again.

      ‘What a disappointment for you, Rigo,’ he drawled, ‘but no doubt you have a plan in mind to change this young woman’s way of thinking?’

      Actually, no, he had no plan, and his friend’s comment had left him feeling vaguely irritated. ‘I’m leaving now.’ He ended the call. This was not the moment to be discussing such things, and something about Signorina Bannister called for the role of protector, rather than seducer. She was far too young for him, and almost certainly a virgin—or at least incredibly inexperienced; ergo, she was not his type at all. He stowed the phone in his shirt pocket and turned back to her. ‘You’ll have to keep this reading on hold. I’ve been called away. We’ll reschedule—’

      ‘But my flight home…’ she said anxiously.

      ‘I can only apologise.’

      Katie frowned. It wasn’t up to her to judge the client, but this was unforgivable. Rigo Ruggiero intended to leave something as important as the reading of his stepbrother’s will to race his sports car around a track. Couldn’t he do that some other time? His equally arrogant friend hadn’t been prepared to tell her much more, but she gathered that was the plan. ‘There’s no need to apologise,’ she said coldly, remembering the senior partner’s words. ‘After all, you’re paying for my time—’

      ‘Plus ça change,’ he interrupted and his expression registered nothing more than resigned acceptance of the way of things.

      Now she was insulted. Her motive in coming to Rome had not been money. The fact that she had come here to fulfil his stepbrother’s last request didn’t matter to him at all, apparently.

      He saw this change in her and emphasized, ‘This is something I cannot miss—’

      ‘And I cannot miss my flight,’ she said, standing up.

      ‘You can change it—’

      ‘I’m not sure I can—’

      ‘Why not?’

      Because she would have to buy a new ticket—an expense that would mean nothing to this man and that in their present parlous state her firm probably wouldn’t reimburse. She had bills to pay—and the prospect of no job to return to ahead of her.

      She had tried so hard to strike the right tone and be professional, but she was growing increasingly agitated as she faced Rigo Ruggiero across the desk. Like it or not, they were in conflict now. ‘Couldn’t you change your appointment?’ she suggested hesitantly.

      ‘No.’

      ‘But you are eager to get this over with?’ she reminded him. And not put off by a drive around the racetrack with the boys.

      ‘I assure you I am every bit as eager as I was before, but now I must go—’

      ‘Shall I wait for you?’

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