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Allegra closed her eyes. Emotions had been flickering through her since she’d first seen Stefano again, flickering to life after seven years of numbness, and she was tired of them, tired of feeling. She didn’t want to analyse how she felt, what she thought, what Stefano felt or thought.

She just wanted to be. To do her job, as Stefano had told her to. She hoped, when she finally met Lucio, she could forget about Stefano completely …

On that hazy thought, sleep overtook her.

She woke to a light knock on the door as late afternoon sunlight slanted across the floor.

‘Allegra?’ Stefano called softly. ‘You’ve been asleep for four hours. We need to get ready for the dinner.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled, pushing a tangle of hair from her eyes. Stefano opened the door and Allegra was conscious of her dishevelled appearance, the fact that, even with the coverlet held up to her chest, it was quite obvious she was wearing only a bra and panties.

Stefano’s gaze swept over her for one blazing second, and Allegra felt an answering awareness fire her nerve endings, turn her breathless.

Then his face blanked and he gave her a polite, impersonal smile. ‘There is a selection of evening gowns for you to choose from downstairs. I’ll bring them up.’

‘A selection?’ Allegra repeated in surprise, but Stefano had already gone.

Allegra took the opportunity to slip out of bed and throw on the clothes she’d left discarded on the floor. She was just tying her hair back when he reappeared a few moments later with several elegantly embossed carrier bags.

‘Everything you need should be in there,’ he said. ‘We need to leave in a little under an hour. Anna is going to bring you up some antipasti. You missed lunch.’ He smiled briefly, a teasing, affectionate look in his eyes that did something strange—something pleasant—to Allegra’s insides.

‘Thank you,’ she managed, ‘for being so thoughtful.’

He inclined his head. ‘You’re welcome.’

It was a simple exchange, almost meaningless, and yet, as Stefano left, closing the door behind him, Allegra realized she’d enjoyed it. She liked things simple. She liked not wondering what the hidden meaning or feeling was.

She wanted to enjoy. Enjoy an evening playing dress up like a little girl let loose in her mother’s wardrobe.

Smiling at the thought, Allegra reached for the carrier bags.

Stefano had provided everything—three different designer gowns, all with matching shoes and wraps, as well as undergarments and tights.

She let the silky, luxurious fabrics slide through her fingers. She hadn’t had such beautiful clothes in seven years. Hadn’t needed them and certainly hadn’t been able to afford them.

She was touched by Stefano’s thoughtfulness, even though she knew it was simply his way of operating. She was in his care, so he would provide for her. Everything, always, whether she liked it or not.

She chose a slim-fitting knee-length gown in taupe silk. It was simple yet elegant and clearly well made. She liked the way the silk rippled over her, smoothing to a silhouette as she tugged up the zip.

In the bottom of one of the bags, Stefano had left a small velvet box and when Allegra opened it she let out a small shocked gasp.

They were the earrings he’d given to her the day before the wedding. The earrings he’d told her he couldn’t wait to see her wearing. The earrings she’d never worn, just as there had been so many things she’d never done.

She slipped them from their velvet bed, saw the way the lamplight glinted off their myriad facets, and blinked back tears.

She didn’t know why she felt like crying; she couldn’t untangle the way she felt. Yet, at that moment, she didn’t feel like a possession—she felt like a treasure.

This was dangerous, she knew. Dangerous to let herself feel this way, to flirt on the blurred edge of friendship. It would be far safer to keep her distance from Stefano, to maintain that professional facade.

Yet at this moment, beautifully dressed and about to embark on an evening of entertainment, she didn’t want to.

At this moment, she wanted to be treasured.

She slipped the earrings on and left her hair down, tumbling over her shoulders.

Then she went downstairs.

Stefano was already in the marble hallway, dressed in a tuxedo. He quite literally took her breath away as he turned to face her, his eyes glittering with honest admiration when he saw her.

‘You look stunning,’ he said, and there was nothing but simple sincerity in his voice. His eyes rested on her ears, the diamond teardrops sparkling against her skin, and he smiled, an intimate gesture that spoke more than any word.

Allegra realized she was smiling back, glowing as if she’d swallowed the sun. As if Stefano had handed it to her.

‘Thank you.’

He held out his hand and Allegra took it with only a second’s hesitation. She wasn’t going to let herself think too much. This was one evening, one evening only, and she planned to enjoy it.

They took a car to the St Regis Grand Hotel. As they pulled up to the hotel’s front, Allegra couldn’t help but be impressed by its ornate facade. They were in the heart of Rome, minutes from the Spanish Steps and the Trevi Fountain, worldly, witty people moving, talking and laughing all around them along with the trill of mobile phones and the hum of mopeds.

And Allegra was a part of it. She felt a part of it.

The mid-September air was a balmy caress as they climbed the steps to the hotel. As they entered, Allegra was struck by the huge chandelier suspended glittering above them, the tinkling music from a grand piano, the marble columns and sumptuous carpets that almost caught her heels, all conspiring to create an overwhelming sense of luxury and privilege.

Stefano guided her into the Sala Ritz, yet another sumptuous room decorated with marble pillars soaring to a ceiling with hand-painted frescoes and possessing the same aura of accustomed wealth. Businessmen and their well appointed wives mingled among black-frocked waiters bearing trays of champagne.

Allegra saw the heads turn as Stefano moved through the room, one hand on the small of her back. She saw the eyes slide speculatively towards her, heard the silent questions.

She shook her hair back and smiled proudly. Possessively.

Stefano joined a small group of men and introduced Allegra to his associates.

‘Gentlemen, my friend, Allegra Avesti.’

My friend. Something she’d never been to him before. And she wondered now, distantly, if that was what she really was. If she could be that to Stefano. If she wanted to be.

Yet what other choice was there?

She watched surprise flicker across their faces as they heard the words my friend. A few jaws dropped, and Allegra wondered why they were so surprised.

Surely Stefano had come to business occasions with a woman before—a woman who was not a steady girlfriend or perhaps even a date.

Or was it something else? Unease prickled uncomfortably through her, up her spine and along her insides. Was it that he did come to these functions with a woman, a particular woman, and she was not that woman?

There was no time to consider such a question, or how it had made her feel, as she was soon swept up in the pre-dinner conversation, and took comfort in the innocuous chatter.

‘All right?’ Stefano murmured, his hand holding her elbow, and Allegra felt his breath graze her cheek, felt her whole body shiver at the touch and sound of him.

‘Yes,’ she murmured back, ‘I’m all right. Enjoying myself, actually.’