Chapter Four
GIANCARLO’s cell-phone flashed an incoming call and he frowned when he saw the name which flashed up on the screen.
Cassandra.
His frown deepened. It was barely an hour since he’d seen her and hadn’t he said he’d call her, even if he hadn’t really meant it at the time? Even if just the thought of plunging into that luscious curvy body could send his blood pressure soaring.
But he had been busy appeasing his conscience—telling himself that it would be better for her if he just let things drift.
Because the last thing an innocent like Cassie needed was to get herself involved with a man with a track record as a heartbreaker.
She’d soon be going back home to Cornwall and the Christmas holidays would take her mind off things.
And maybe it was better not to get her hopes up by beginning an affair which had no future.
Then snapshot images of blonde hair and pale curves clicked into his memory with aching clarity and, quickly, he lifted the phone.
‘Cassandra?’ he said, instinctively registering alarm as a barely recognisable voice started pouring out words which made no sense at all.
Words like ‘fraud’ and ‘security’. ‘Cassandra, is that you? For God’s sake—calm down!
I can’t understand a word you’re saying. What’s going on and where are you?’
‘I’ve been h-hauled off by security staff at the store!’ she stumbled. ‘They’ve s-said that I might want to get myself a lawyer.’
‘Lawyer?’ he thundered.
‘Yes! There’s been the most terrible mix-up—and it’s looking serious. Really serious. Giancarlo, r-remember those c-andles you bought…’
He cut right through her blustering hysteria. ‘Don’t say another word. I’m coming right over,’ he said grimly.
His chauffeur drove him straight round to Hudson’s, where he demanded to speak to the store manager, who led him to a private room in the bowels of the building where he found Cassie, her face all red and blotchy with tears.
A slow fury began to rise inside him as she lifted her face towards his, like a mouse caught in a trap.
‘Ah, this must be your lawyer,’ said the female security guard, her fingertips automatically touching her hair.
In the midst of her misery, Cassie watched as Giancarlo strode into the room, thinking how strong he looked—and how formidable. Thank God he was here, she thought fervently before blinking in confusion. Her lawyer? Her eyes asked him a question but he gave a barely imperceptible shake of his head.
‘Hello, Cassandra,’ he said. ‘Do you want to tell me what’s been going on?’
The sound of his voice broke through the emotional barriers she had erected since this whole unbelievable scenario had taken place—an emotional state made more acute by the way she’d spent the previous night.
She felt them topple down now, leaving her helpless and vulnerable as she looked up into the obdurate features of his dark face.
‘Oh, Giancarlo,’ she whispered, tears beginning to slide down her cheeks once more. ‘They say I’m a thief!’
Leaning over to press a pristine handkerchief into her palm, Giancarlo turned and fixed the general manager with a blistering look. ‘Would you mind telling me what’s going on?’
It took only minutes for him to establish that he had not actually paid for the candles he’d bought.
He frowned as he tried to remember signing for the impulsive purchase.
Maybe he hadn’t. The two of them had been too busy flirting and responding to the siren call of their bodies for either of them to notice that his card had not gone through the till.
The problem had been compounded by him forgetting to take the package home with him—and by a rather jealous shop assistant who had set out to cause trouble for Cassandra when she’d seen her in the changing room—only she had really hit the jackpot.
On her say-so the floor manager had done a stock-check, discovered the discrepancy, and then immediately alerted the general manager.
But the facts were plain enough. The candles had not been paid for and Cassandra had taken them.
Technically, there had been a theft—and she could be charged.
‘Madre de Dio,’ Giancarlo said beneath his breath—despairing of the chaos which seemed to have come tumbling into his life.
How was it possible that a little absent-mindedness could have had such a potentially damaging outcome?
Because he had been blinded by her beauty, that was why!
Because he, the master of order and control, had acted impulsively—and now he must pay the price for that impulsiveness.
And so must she. Her virginity was lost and she was being branded a common thief—oh, she must be delighting in the day that she ever set eyes on him!
But he recognised that anger would not serve him well in such a situation—and neither would sheer force of character.
Instead, with the judicious use of tact and determination, he managed to get the matter dropped by explaining that nothing more sinister than a mix-up had occurred and by repaying the money which was still owed.
And fortunately, he was a big-spending customer.
He suspected that the jewellery he’d purchased for his various lovers over the years helped ensure that the whole incident was quickly glossed over.
Within the hour, he and Cassandra were standing on the pavement outside the glittering windows of the store—while his driver sat in the limousine at the kerbside.
Giancarlo looked down at her slumped and dejected shoulders. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m free, aren’t I? If they’d got nasty they might have pressed charges and then I’d have ended up with a criminal record.
’ She turned her teary eyes up to him—her unlikely saviour.
‘Th-thank you,’ she said, feeling some of the nightmarish feeling subside—but still unable to shake the strange sensation of numbness.
As if everything which had happened since she’d knocked on his front door was happening to somebody else.
She swallowed down yet more tears, but her voice was shaking so much that her words stuttered out like little pieces of gravel.
‘Th-thank you so much,’ she said again, her voice still trembling. ‘I feel so st-st-stupid.’
‘Well, don’t. Don’t.’ On impulse, he took her into his arms as she began to cry again—feeling her tears soak into his shirt and the soft tremble of her beautiful body as he held her close.
And in that moment, her sheer and helpless vulnerability filled him with shame that he should have misjudged her so.
Mistaken her for a provocative and experienced lover simply because she had been born to look that way.
And now, because of a fierce attraction between them—an attraction which he had seized and capitalised on—her reputation lay in tatters.
Taking his crumpled handkerchief from her trembling fingers, he tilted her chin and began to wipe away the new tears which were trickling down her cheeks.
‘Don’t blame yourself. It was as much my fault as yours.
I wasn’t paying attention. Neither of us were.
’ He looked into her red-rimmed violet eyes and wondered how she could still manage to look so beautiful. ‘And you’ve lost your job.’
‘I know.’
‘What will you do?’
Cassandra swallowed. In his arms she had felt safe—but now that she was no longer protected by their powerful warmth the horror of what lay ahead filled her with anxiety.
It was more than having to leave Hudson’s—though that was bad enough—it was how she was going to explain it to everyone.
Her mum. Her flatmates. The owner of the shop back in Padstow when she crept back home and told them all that she had been a failure.
She’d let herself and everyone down—and made herself look like a complete fool in front of Giancarlo into the bargain.
She knew she should be rejoicing that the outcome hadn’t been as bad as it could have been—because at least she hadn’t acquired a criminal record—but she felt utterly deflated.
And isn’t part of that because you know that you’ll never see him again?
Because you’ve made a fool of yourself in more ways than one.
‘I don’t know what I’ll do,’ she whispered. ‘But I’ll think of something.’
Giancarlo studied the forlorn slant of her shoulders. She was, he realized, still wearing the same dress she’d had on last night—and her face was bleached of all colour and shiny with tears. He felt another sharp stab of conscience.
‘Did you have any breakfast this morning?’ he demanded.
‘Not really. Well, no—I didn’t. I was rushing off to work,’ said Cassie quickly—not wanting to tell him that the thought of having to face Gina over a coffee-pot had filled her with disquiet.
He glanced at his watch and then pulled open the door of the car, his other hand in the small of her back as he gently propelled her forward. ‘Get in.’
‘Where are we going?’
‘Out for lunch.’
‘But I can’t go out looking like this.’
‘Precisamente, bella. That’s why we’re going shopping first—to buy you something pretty to wear.’
‘No, honestly—’
‘Yes, honestly,’ he mocked. ‘As a small recompense for the hassle you’ve had to endure this morning—for which I am partly responsible.’
He made it sound like buying a child an ice cream after they’d grazed their knee and Cassie flinched. ‘I don’t want recompense!’
‘A treat, then. Something nice after something so unpleasant. Please.’ He flicked a tear-damp strand of hair away from her lips. ‘It will take your mind off things. You know you’re going to have to agree, Cassandra—because I won’t take no for an answer.’
But something in the way he said it only increased her feelings of unease and isolation.
As if she could be bought off—just as he’d bought off the store.
Buy her ‘something pretty’ and she would go away quietly and never bother him again.
Well, she would do all that anyway—but without the billionaire pay-off.