The Italian Duke's Virgin Mistress by Penny Jordan

Author:Penny Jordan [Jordan, Penny]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Contemporary, Romance
ISBN: 9781426864339
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2010-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

‘Let me guess: these clothes that you have at home are dull, plain garments that are two sizes too big for you? Si? They will not be suitable for your new role. You will be dealing with artists and craftsmen who value beauty—Italian men,’ he emphasised. ‘It is vitally important, since you are representing me, that they respect you and recognise that you understand the importance of quality craftsmanship. To the master stonemason the correct drape of fabric against a woman’s body is as important to his artistic eye as the correct choosing of a piece of stone, and that applies to all those with whom you will be dealing. In addition to that there will be many occasions on which I shall require you to accompany me to meetings and business dinners. Tonight, for instance, I do not want…’

‘Me to show you up with my dull plain clothes?’ Charley finished for him. ‘Well, in that case I’m surprised you’ve brought me here instead of…of some elegant clotheshorse.’

‘Why does the thought of wearing beautiful clothes fill you with such panic? Most women…’

‘I am not most women, and it does not fill me with panic,’ Charley denied. But of course he was right. She couldn’t tell him, though, that she was afraid of beautiful clothes because she knew they would only underline how unworthy she was of wearing them.

‘What I was actually going to say,’ Raphael continued, ‘was that most women would wish to be dressed appropriately in the company of other women—particularly Italian women, who take a pride in their appearance. You will feel uncomfortable if you are not comparably clothed.’

No, she wouldn’t, Charley wanted to say, because she knew how unsuited she was to the kind of Italian elegance to which Raphael was referring.

‘You have already agreed to work under my direction and to abide by my conditions,’ Raphael reminded her.

‘As project manager, not in telling me what to wear,’ Charley retorted. ‘Work clothes for me mean a sturdy pair of boots and a properly fitting hard hat.’ Was that really pity she could see in Raphael’s gaze?

‘You shall have those, of course, but I hardly think that even you would want to dress in such things for dinner.’

His words were a statement and not a question, Charley recognised, and, much as she would have liked to argue the point, Raphael was turning away from her, nodding to the uniformed doorman to open the door to the store, signalling that any attempt at rebellion on her part simply would not be tolerated.

Now Raphael’s hand under her elbow felt like a form of imprisonment, but despite everything she believed about herself, humiliatingly, Charley was forced to admit that, when the sultry-looking sales assistant who had glided forward cast an assessing glance over her, she was glad she was wearing goodquality clothes—even though at the same time she felt acutely conscious of how badly her looks and lack of self-confidence at being in this most feminine of female places compared to that of the sales assistant.

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