Certainly, he would not be sharing with Ariana that he loathed coming up here. There were just too many memories that resided here. Instead, he pointed out another of its disadvantages. ‘It takes for ever to clean, which you might soon find out,’ Gian said with a wry edge, and he watched as she tucked her slender legs under her. ‘A full two days to service properly.’
‘Let me dream for a moment,’ she sighed. ‘So this was built for the Duke’s mistress?’
‘Incorrect.’
‘Correct me then,’ Ariana said, her voice dropping to huskiness as, for the first time in her life, she officially flirted. Not that Gian even noticed, for he proceeded to give her a history lesson.
‘It was officially built for the Duke and the Duchess,’ Gian told her. ‘It was actually first called La Duchessa,’ Gian said, ‘well, officially, but the locals all called it La Fiordelise...’
She watched as he pulled back some ornate panelling to reveal a heavy door and in it a silver key. ‘Fiordelise lived through here.’
He turned the key and pushed open the door to reveal another completely separate penthouse suite, in feminine reds and with a view of the square and a personality of its own. Yet he was somewhat surprised when the rather nosy Ariana did not untangle her long legs and pad over to look at the sumptuous boudoir. Instead she screwed up her nose. ‘The poor Duchess.’ Her sloe eyes narrowed. ‘How awful to live with just a wall between you and your husband’s mistress.’
‘You don’t find the story of La Fiordelise romantic?’
‘History makes it appear romantic.’ Ariana shrugged. ‘I find it offensive.’
Of course, given her father’s supposed affair with Mia, he guessed that infidelity would be one of her hot buttons, but he sensed that her thoughts had been formed long ago. There was a side to Ariana he had never seen: a free thinker was in there, though somewhat suppressed.
‘Why do you find it so offensive?’ Gian asked. ‘Things were very different back then.’
‘I doubt feelings were different,’ Ariana said. ‘And I hate it that the Duchess had to vie for his attention. You would hope, once married, all that would stop.’
‘All what?’
‘Being shut out. It should have been the Duchess on his mind, not Fiordelise.’
Gian looked at her thoughtfully. ‘You have a very idealistic view of marriage.’
‘Absolutely I do,’ Ariana agreed. She stood and padded over to where Fiordelise had once resided and, standing in the doorway with him, peered into the opulent, sensual, feminine suite. Yet she did not set as much as a foot inside, just faced him in the doorway. ‘And that is why I am still single.’
His eyes never left her face as she continued to speak. ‘My mother has spent the last quarter of a century planning my wedding—any old billionaire will do—but I shall only marry for love.’ She smiled at him then and teased him a little. ‘Do you even know what that word means, Gian?’
‘No,’ he replied, ‘and I don’t care to find out.’
‘As is your prerogative, but it is mine to feel sad for the Duchess. What was her name?’
‘Violetta,’ Gian answered, ‘like...’ He hesitated, for he had been about to compare the name to Ariana’s eyes. For several reasons, that would not be a sensible thing to do. Neither was the way he was looking into them right now.
Yes, he had noticed the huskiness of her voice and the earlier batting of her eyelashes. There was a friction in the Ariana-scented air, and his hand wanted to know for itself the softness of her cheek—so much so that Gian had to focus on not lifting his hand and cupping her face.
Gian, despite his formidable reputation, had scruples, and to kiss her, as he now desired to, while still involved with Svetlana was not something he would do.
And, aside from that, this was Ariana Romano.
The daughter of a man he respected and the little sister of his lifelong friend. And soon to be an employee. A casual affair she could never be, and that was all Gian wanted or knew.
Ariana Romano was completely off limits.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘VIOLETTA.’ ARIANA REPEATED the name of the forgotten Duchess while gazing into his eyes. ‘That’s beautiful.’
She practically handed him a response—and so are you—except Gian refused to rise to the bait.
Or rather he fought not to rise.
They stood facing each other in the doorway, their bodies almost as close as when they danced their one duty dance each year at the Romano Foundation Ball.
And he was as turned on as he had been while holding her in that dress of silver.
Of course it had been more than an educated guess, for she had looked utterly stunning that night.
Gian was well aware of his past with women.
And he was decided on his future too.
Casual, temporary, fleeting, there were many ways to describe the nature of his relationships, except entering into any of the above with Ariana was an impossible concept. If they were seen out more than a couple of times the press would soon get hold of it and her mother would too. As much as Angela resented Gian for holding Rafael’s second wedding here, she would forgive him in an instant to have a title in the family.
No, there could be no kisses, though certainly the moment was ripe for one...
‘What?’ Ariana said. She could feel a sudden charge in the air, a slight frisson that had her on her guard. She assumed he was displeased and wondered if perhaps she shouldn’t have brought up the Duchess’s name, or been so derisive of Fiordelise.
Ariana could not read men.
Well, not real men, which Gian undoubtedly was.
She could read fake men, who wanted to be seen with her just for appearances’ sake. And though she tried to convince herself they cared, she could never bring herself to take it beyond anything other than a tasteless kiss.
Despite popular gossip, Ariana was completely untouched.
Her flirting was all for the cameras.
No, she could
