The Boss's Christmas Seduction: Unlocking her Innocence / Million Dollar Christmas Proposal / Not Just the Boss's Plaything

‘Oh, I would never expect that.’ Ava laughed, released from tension and weak with relief on Harvey’s behalf. ‘I’ll keep him away from you. I know you’re no good with dogs. Olly told me you were bitten when you were a child!’

Annoyance coursed through Vito and his eyes veiled, his jaw line hardening. He was an extremely private man. He wondered what other inappropriate revelations his little brother had made and once again he reflected that the sooner Ava was out of his workplace, the better.

‘I’ll have to get permission from my probation officer to leave London,’ Ava told him suddenly, her expression anxious. ‘I see her every month.’

‘You’ll only be away a couple of weeks—why bother mentioning it?’

‘I’m out on parole, Vito. I have to follow the rules if I don’t want to end up back inside,’ she replied tightly.

Vito compressed his lips and gave an imperious nod of his handsome dark head in acknowledgement. ‘I’ll send a car to pick you up late Sunday afternoon.’

And then he was gone and the room felt cold and empty as if the sun had gone in. She sat down by the fire, all of a sudden cold on the inside as well and very shaky. What had she done? What madness had possessed her to agree to his proposition? The same madness that had made Vito Barbieri voice the suggestion? He wanted closure. She understood that, felt worse than ever when she thought about how hard it must have been for so reserved a male to deal with such a colossal tragedy. But on one level he was right—life went on whether you wanted it to or not and, just as he had done, she had to learn how to adapt to survive.

‘I understand you’ll only be here until Friday,’ Karen Harper remarked sweetly the following morning as she checked over the typing that Ava had completed and sent her out to cover Reception over lunch. ‘I had no idea just how friendly you were with the boss—’

‘Friendly would be the wrong word,’ Ava fielded awkwardly. ‘Vito’s still my boss.’

But the atmosphere around her for the rest of the week was strained and she was in receipt of more nosy questions than she wanted to answer. It was a relief to leave early on Friday to keep her regular appointment with Sally, her probation officer.

‘You’ll be staying in a real castle?’ Sally queried, goggle-eyed, as she made a note of the address.

‘Not a medieval one—Bolderwood is a Victorian house,’ Ava explained.

‘And owned by Oliver Barbieri’s brother,’ Sally slotted in, smiling widely at Ava. ‘He must be a very forgiving person.’

‘No, he’ll never forgive and forget where his brother’s concerned and I don’t blame him for that,’ Ava replied tautly, her expression sober beneath the older woman’s curious gaze. ‘But he thinks we both need to get back to normal and he sees this as the best way of achieving that.’

‘It’s still a remarkably generous gesture.’

Travelling down to Bolderwood Castle two days later in the opulent luxury of a limousine with Harvey asleep at her feet and her holdall packed in the boot, Ava was thinking that she had never known that Vito possessed such a streak of generosity. But she should have done, she reasoned ruefully. Hadn’t he given Olly a home when his kid brother was left alone in the world? A little boy he had only met a couple of times, a half-brother some adults might have thoroughly resented? Yet on the outside Vito Barbieri was as tough and inflexible as granite. In business he was as much feared as respected by competitors and at work—if AeroCarlton was anything to go by—his very high expectations and ruthless efficiency intimidated his employees.

As the familiar countryside passed the windows Ava grew increasingly tense. She was both terrified and exhilarated to be heading back to her childhood stomping grounds. Would she dare to visit her father or her sisters? She thought not, best not to push herself in rudely where she wasn’t wanted. Her father and sisters would only resent her for turning up uninvited on their doorsteps and putting them on the spot. Her eyes awash with moisture, she blinked back tears. She had to put her life back together alone but at least she still had her life.

‘You have a very negative attitude,’ Olly had once scolded her with his easy smile.

But then aside of his mother dying and his father having been an absentee parent, Olly had received a level of security, love and support from adults that Ava had never known. She knew that that was why she was prickly, suspicious of people’s motives and always prepared for the worst. As the limo waited for the giant electric gates to open at the foot of the castle drive Ava’s heart was in her mouth and she felt like scrambling out of the car and running away. Of course people were going to think she was utterly shameless and insensitive to come and stay at Bolderwood after what she had done!

The car headlights illuminated the rambling Victorian mansion in the distance. Complete with four turrets and a forest of Elizabethan-esque chimneys, the original architect had recklessly borrowed the style of almost every previous age to embellish his creation. Ava had always thought it was a madly romantic house built in the days when owners had loads of staff and constantly entertained guests. Vito had a very large staff but kept the entertaining to the minimum. Throwing open the doors of his private home for the Christmas party was a major challenge for a male who happily lived behind locked gates and electric fences the rest of the year.

Eleanor Dobbs, the slim brunette housekeeper in her thirties, greeted Ava at the imposing front door. ‘Miss Fitzgerald,’ she said without an ounce of discomfiture. ‘I’ll show you straight up to your room so that you can get unpacked.’

‘Just make it Ava,’ Ava urged, her cheeks flushed with intense self-consciousness. ‘How have you been?’

‘It’s been quiet here since your last visit,’ the older woman remarked on her efficient passage up the sweeping staircase. ‘We’re all very pleased that the Christmas party is to be held again.’

A fixed smile on her taut face as she made determined small talk, Ava found herself standing in the principal guest room without quite knowing how she had arrived there. It was a massive room with a charming en suite bathroom in the turret complete with window seat. A fire burned in the grate of the marble fireplace, flickering shadows across warm brocaded walls and antique mahogany furniture. She stared in astonishment at the imposing four-poster bed draped in embroidered gold silk.

‘Why have you brought me in here?’ Ava whispered.

‘Mr Barbieri asked me to prepare this room for you,’ Eleanor advanced.

Ava froze. ‘Where is Mr Barbieri?’ she asked tightly.

‘I believe he’s in his bedroom.’

The housekeeper departed and Ava expelled her pent-up breath in a hiss while she scanned the opulence of the room. Totally unsuitable, she reflected incredulously. Vito could not put her in the main bedroom reserved for only the most honoured VIPs. My goodness, there was even a fire burning in the grate! Harvey, no slowcoach at spotting the most warm and comfy place in the room, settled down on the rug and lowered his shaggy head down on his paws.

‘Don’t bother getting comfortable,’ Ava warned him ruefully. ‘We’re not staying in the five-star accommodation!’

Leaving Harvey, she crossed the landing at a smart pace to knock on Vito’s bedroom door while she waited outside with folded arms. When there was no answer she knocked again and waited with mounting impatience. Finally she just opened the door and went in, only to stop dead on the threshold at the sight of Vito emerging from his en suite clad in only a pair of black briefs.

For a split second she simply stared, eyes wide, mouth dropping open in shock and awkwardness. He had an incredible body because he worked out and swam regularly in the basement fitness suite. Vibrant skin the colour of honey glowed in the lamplight, drawing attention to his powerful shoulders, truly remarkable abs and a stomach as flat as a washboard. Short black curls accentuated his pectorals while a silky dark furrow of hair ran down over his concave belly and disappeared below the waistband of his briefs. With her attention lingering in that most private area, embarrassment bit deep into Ava and she spun around, rejecting the view and presenting him with her back. ‘I’m so sorry … I didn’t mean to interrupt you—’

‘At least close the door,’ Vito said drily.

She shoved the door shut, her face so hot she thought eggs could have fried on it. What on earth had she been doing staring at him like that? As if she’d never seen a half-naked man before—she hadn’t, though, apart from on the beach. Her lack of experience at almost twenty-two years of age affronted her pride. She was a case of arrested development, imposed by her years locked away in prison. Obsessed with Vito before she lost her freedom she had missed out entirely on the phase of youthful experimentation.

‘Che cosa a successo … what has happened?’ Vito drawled, cool as ice water with an edge of mockery.

Ava spun back to him, catching the sardonic hint of amusement written on his face as though on some level he relished her discomfiture. ‘I came straight to find you because you simply can’t plonk me in the main guest room!’ she shot at him. ‘It’s a very bad idea.’

Engaged in drawing up the zip on a pair of close-fitting designer chinos, his magnificent torso providing a stunning display as his hips arched back and the ropes of muscle across his abdomen flexed, Vito had never looked more assured or calm. Being half naked in her presence clearly did not trouble him in the slightest. ‘Let me decide what is appropriate,’ he advised.

‘Well, that’s just it, isn’t it?’ Ava snapped back at him heatedly, inflamed by his refusal to take the subject seriously. ‘Obviously I can’t trust you to do what is appropriate!’

His black brows were level above his spectacular dark deep-set eyes. ‘This is my house and I am the best judge of that. What I say goes here.’

His arrogant unconcern infuriated Ava. ‘How can you completely ignore how other people will feel about me staying here?’

An ebony brow lifted. ‘It’s none of their business.’

‘You have a hell of an attitude problem, Vito!’ Ava hurled.

‘Agreed,’ Vito fielded softly as he reached for the shirt draped over the back of a chair. ‘I never could stand being told what to do.’

The crack was not lost on Ava. She reddened, her lush mouth compressing. ‘I’m not trying to tell you what to do—’

Vito studied her with interest, noting that she had chosen to travel in her office skirt and shirt, the violin curves above and below her tiny waist pronounced in the outfit. He wanted to rip the restrained garments off her, clothe her in excessively feminine silk and lace lingerie so that he could picture her lying on his bed without even stretching his imagination. Seeing her in his bedroom, he decided, was a disturbingly intimate experience.

‘Sì, you are. You’re a real little bossy-boots—you always were,’ he riposted, watching her succulent lips part in surprise at the comeback, recognising the flare in her bright blue eyes with wicked anticipation.

Ava threw her head high, thick silky hair shimmering like a fall of molten copper round her cheekbones, eyes huge and fiery with defiance. ‘I am not a bossy-boots!’

‘Olly always did as he was told,’ Vito murmured silkily. ‘But be warned—I don’t. You’re in the main guest room purely because it was my decision to put you there.’

‘Then put me somewhere a little more humble!’ Ava cut in angrily.

In the strained silence that stretched in the wake of her demand, the atmosphere hissed and buzzed like a crackling fire.