Niccolo was working out that there was probably quite a bit his aunt had failed to mention, and not just to the blonde sitting in front of him with an expression that could freeze water—not that that had the slightest effect on him.
Up close, the woman was even more stunning than at a distance. Vanilla-coloured hair, eyes the most peculiar shade of blue, tall and slender. It seemed a catch-all description to describe her as a typical English rose, but this blue-eyed blonde had something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, something that elevated her from the ranks of attractive blondes into something that had temporarily sent his libido into freefall.
Was it the unusual violet-blue of her eyes? Or the lushness of her lashes, dark in contrast to the white-blonde of her hair? Or the fullness of her mouth? Or maybe it was just because she was glaring at him, which wasn’t the sort of reaction he was accustomed to getting from a woman.
At any rate, a twenty-five-year-old leggy blonde wasn’t going to do and there was no point beating about the bush—although the prospect of putting work on hold indefinitely while he hunted down a suitable nanny didn’t fill him with joy. He could, naturally, bring Annalise into his offices, arrange for his PA to keep an eye on her while he spent the day in back-to-back meetings, but how rewarding was that going to be for an energetic six-year-old who would want to be outside in the sunshine having some fun at the start of her summer holidays?
‘Would you like something to eat?’ He signalled to the waiter, who raced over, and he watched for a few seconds while she buried herself behind the oversized menu before emerging to shake her head.
‘A cup of tea would be lovely.’
‘A bottle of Chablis,’ Niccolo drawled, ‘and some tapas. Along with the cup of tea, of course.’ He leant forward, hands on the table, and looked at her seriously for a few silent seconds. ‘I apologise if you found my reaction rude,’ he said.
‘I get it. You thought that because I met your aunt at an allotment, I would be in my sixties, maybe without a partner and definitely without a nine-to-five job.’
Niccolo shrugged and laughed drily. He sat back, dark eyes roving over her face, appreciating the symmetry of her features and working out just why it was that his aunt had failed to provide him with an in-depth description of the woman she had recommended.
Evalina, like his parents, wanted to see him remarried. One tragic mistake, they were fond of telling him, was no excuse to remain a confirmed bachelor for the rest of his life. Annalise needed a mother and he needed the love of a good woman. Their exuberant Italian enthusiasm alternately amused and frustrated him. Respect compelled him to avoid confrontations on the issue but, thus far, they had backed off from the actual business ofmatchmaking.
He felt a surge of irritation that he had now been put in the awkward position of having to deal with a situation he hadn’t envisaged.
‘It had crossed my mind,’ he admitted and then added, after a moment’s hesitation, ‘I think my aunt may have been playing games with both of us.’ Why not be perfectly honest? When it came to addressing most thorny issues, honesty was usually the best policy as far as he was concerned. This was particularly true when it came to his dealings with the opposite sex. He liked things to be crystal clear, all cards on the table, for the avoidance of misunderstandings. He watched her closely, noted her frown as she thought about what he had just said and then also noted her flashbulb moment of comprehension.
‘I see. At least I think I do.’ Sophie sighed, amused despite herself by Evalina’s manoeuvring. ‘Your aunt thinks you...need to settle down? Is that it?’
Tapas and wine arrived, along with a pot of tea. Niccolo half smiled as she absently bypassed the tea and sipped some wine from the glass that had been poured. He shrugged.
‘I am the only child of a traditional Italian family and that family very much includes my aunt, who sees me as something of a surrogate son, especially as my parents live in Italy. They are all of the opinion that marriage is what we everyone should aspire to.’
‘Perhaps the fact that you have a young child also has something to do with it.’ This man’s personal life was none of her business, but she was relieved he had cleared the air because she didn’t want complications and it would seem that neither did he.
He knew nothing about her aside from the fact that she came recommended by his aunt as someone who could be trusted with his daughter. She had brought her own references from the family she had nannied for in the past. That was the sum total of what he needed to know because her private life was hers and hers alone. If he wanted more formal qualifications, then he would have to look somewhere else. She would lose the lifeline she had been hoping for, but if the past year and a half had taught her anything it was that she could cope with whatever was thrown at her.
She knew nothing about him and had no intention of asking questions. Had he been happily married? Was he still in mourning for his late wife?
‘Why me?’ she heard herself ask, bluntly.
‘Who knows? Maybe because you have a shared love of allotments.’
‘I’m glad you’ve brought this out into the open. If I wasn’t what you were expecting, then you weren’t what I had expected either. If we’re being honest, I can tell you that I looked at you and had already made up my mind that the job wasn’t going to work out.’
‘Sorry?’
He looked genuinely startled. Sophie grasped why. He was so good-looking, so crazilysexy, just so eminentlyeligiblethat he was probably accustomed to women seeking him out rather than shutting the door in his face.
Just for a moment—a very brief moment—Sophie enjoyed the thought of bringing him down a notch or two. Good-looking guys were always just a little too self-satisfied, and this one—far and away the most disconcertingly good-looking man she had ever met—would be more self-satisfied than most. Made sense.
‘I...I’m recently out of a poor relationship with a guy I should never have gone near.’ She didn’t bother beating about the bush. ‘I saw you and the last thing I felt I could deal with was the situation of sharing space with you and...’
Niccolo’s face was moving swiftly from resignation at having to clear the air, to surprise that she hadn’t reacted as expected, to downright stupefaction.
‘You thought that I might turn out to be...what? Some kind ofsex pest?’
‘It’s been known,’ Sophie returned frankly.
‘I can’t believe I’m hearing this! I havenever, repeat,neverheard anything quite so outrageous in my life before!’
Sophie stood her ground and met his outraged midnight-dark eyes without flinching. She’d forgotten about the wine, and the plates of delicious tapas, and the pot of tea she had insisted on hadn’t begun to register at all. She was consumed by his energy and immersed in a bubble where everyone and everything around her had morphed into white noise. She’d never felt the intensity of anyone’s personality the way she was feeling this man’s right now, and that alarmed and panicked her. And excited her. Although that was an emotion she stifled before it could take root and cause any damage.
