The Italian Billionaire's Lover

CHAPTER 1

COPY RIGHT:  2011 All Rights Reserved

Tomas stared at the shapely figure of the woman studiously setting up a buffet stand. Oblivious to her surroundings, she was focused on the food display she was creating. The tip of her tongue jutted out as she constructed an intricate pyramid using a myriad sub tropical fruit in unique shapes and sizes.

Why was he staring at her when he should be finding a typist? Rome was waiting for an authorization from him. Yet he continued to stare at her. She was not beautiful. Her clothes were cheap, off the rail and most unflattering. She was definitely not the type of lady he was normally attracted to, but something about her kept his eyes glued to her profile. Even her fiery red hair was the wrong colour. He preferred leggy blondes in sexy designer cocktail dresses. She had long legs all right. Beneath her tawdry ankle length skirt, he could see the distinct slender shape of one leg as she perched forward like a ballerina and carefully placed a luscious strawberry on the apex of her complex pyramid. She stepped back. A self satisfied smiled radiated across her face transforming her face as if the Mediterranean sun suddenly appeared over the dull London sky.

Why was he wasting valuable time gazing at her when she was not in the league of the sexy, sophisticated, classy blondes he dated? Granted most of the women he took to bed, did not have much grey matter to challenge his astute, razor sharp mind for more than five minutes, but at least they satisfied him between the sheets. Their intelligence or lack of it did not bother him, for he kept his affairs brief. He did not do clingy women, and he ensured his affairs were brief enough, before his lovers entertained any territorial notions. The moment they started to talk of exclusivity or moving into his apartment, Tomas very quickly ended his affairs. Of course it always cost him a considerable sum in consoling farewell gifts but he could afford it. He was not prepared to compromise his independence for any woman. He liked things short and sweet with his lovers. Most times he managed short, but not often sweet. He had developed an expertise in keeping affairs brief right from when he turned twenty one. Then women fell over themselves to get into his bed, just for his flamboyant boyish looks. Now he was even more of a catch, with his super wealthy status and his powerful image in the global financial sector.

The letter idiota! He chastised himself mentally.

Alina rewarded herself with a smile mentally tapping herself on the shoulder. Twice she had practised this very display in the training room of her catering company and twice she had hopelessly failed. Was it because her loathsome boss Leonna Gordon had been barking a dozen different instructions into her ear the entire time she was attempting to concoct the pyramid that she had failed to produce? A worthy craftsman never made excuses. Bravo, she accomplished it today when it mattered. And today was a very important day for Rose Acre catering. Alina chewed nervously on her lower lip.

If they were awarded this two year contract with Casiraghi Financial Services, then her boss promised her a much needed increase. God knew, cramped in their tiny flat, between Alina, her sister and their little niece in primary school; their financial needs were dire. It was only yesterday that Alina had managed to get last week's rent up to date.

She must remain confident.  Yes everything was under control. They will be awarded this lucrative contract. Preparations for the starter course was all on track, so was the dessert menu. Alina had a supportive team to assist with the main course. All she had to do was supervise the finishing touches when the---

'How would you like to earn a generous fee for half an hour's work?' A rich accented voice disturbed Alina's thoughts.

Alina swung around. 'Excuse me?' She stared impolitely. He was so---masculine. She was drawn to the swell of bulging muscles beneath the fabric of his silk shirt. So strong and powerful. Such well defined features. Whilst he patiently waited for her answer, she stupidly gazed at his sensuous lips...chiselled jaw. The exquisite shape of his face gave him the smouldering looks of a European model more suited to the Milan and Paris runways, rather than wasted in a stuffed business suit, albeit a very extravagant, hand cut Italian cloth. It had to have been tailored on his attractive body.