Stella tilted her head, considering. ‘They’re both luxury hotels with excellent service and amenities. But they have a different focus. The Nautilus is all about the sea. It’s right on the beach so there’s a sailing club, private beach, water sports. It’s a bit more relaxed. The hotel in Rome…’ She paused, recalling its discreet luxury.
‘Go on.’
‘Everything was top quality, like the Nautilus. But it has an air about it that made it special. It’s not intimidating, but youfeelthe quality. Above all it’s the staff. They’re at the top of their game but they seem genuinely engaged and happy.’
Gio surveyed her, apparently mulling over her observations. ‘That’s a big compliment.’
‘It is. It’s rare to get that combination of luxury and warmth just right, with service that’s efficient and friendly rather than obsequious. Don’t you think?’
Eventually he nodded. ‘You sum it up well. You know what you’re talking about.’
‘I’ve been working in hotels since I was fourteen. Everything from making beds to scrubbing dishes or working in reception.’
Gio leaned forward, his attention like a warm embrace. ‘Fourteen’s young.’
‘It’s a family business so the opportunity was there.’
‘Even so, at fourteen most kids have other priorities, unless there’s financial need.’
She looked into that steady gaze and revelled in the fact Gio was genuinely curious about her. He was totally focused on her. Not because of what he could get but because she interested him. It was a heady feeling.
‘We weren’t struggling, if that’s what you mean.’ Far from it. Her father had a large, successful business empire. ‘But it meant a lot, being part of something my father built, something my family manages.’
She’d believed if she excelled her family would open its arms a little wider and draw her in.
‘You like working with your family?’
Stella blinked and drew back, the cocoon of warmth and well-being falling away.
‘It has its moments.’ At his enquiring look she shrugged. ‘I’m the youngest and sometimes they interfere though I’m perfectly competent to do my job.’
She’d assumed that after proving her worth again and again, they’d leave her to get on with her responsibilities. But while they trusted her to work hard and come up with innovative ideas, the men in her family always looked over her shoulder. Her father regularly countermanded her instructions and her brothers were ready to find flaws, even when none existed. As for receiving recognition for her successes…
‘Perhaps they have trouble letting go.’
Gio’s tone was easy, as if their behaviour was reasonable. But then she hadn’t given him the full picture.
It struck her that no matter how long or how well she worked in the family company she’d always face the same problem. Not because her work wasn’t good but because they jealously guarded their authority and didn’t want to share.
You’re still the outsider and always will be. Can you even trust your father to keep his word if you accept an arranged marriage?
Stella sipped her wine. ‘I’d rather not talk about them. Tell me about your family.’
But instead of a fond smile, Gio’s expression hardened. ‘There’s not much to tell. My closest relatives are distant cousins. I enjoy their company but we don’t work together.’
‘Yourclosestrelatives?’ She hadn’t meant to repeat his words but they slipped out. He had no parents or siblings and the news made her chest ache. She could relate to his loss. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘It happened a very long time ago.’
Only someone who’d lost a loved one could fully appreciate what his crisp words hid. For a second his eyes looked haunted. Without thinking Stella covered his hand with hers, feeling the tension in his bunched fist. Dark eyebrows rose at her spontaneous sympathy.
‘My mother died when I was ten and that was a long time ago. But the hurt never goes completely.’
His gaze held hers for the longest time, then he nodded. ‘I was five when I lost my mother. You’re right, the hurt’s still there. But I’ve moved on. I’d rather not dwell on the past.’
‘I understand.’
It was what she’d tried to do too, throwing herself into her new life. She withdrew her hand, ignoring the frisson of longing as her fingers slid from his.
