Kelly frowned as she studied the summery pinned to the front of the file her employer had just handed her.

Nichols the 2nd was the kind of billionaire who, by rights,

only ought to have existed in fairy stories—as a particularly genial and indulgent

godfather, Kelly thought. She had been introduced to him at a party to which

she had been invited by some acquaintances of her brother’s. She had only

gone to the party because she had been feeling particularly lost and insignificant,

having only recently left her Europe college and moved to Italy. They

had got chatting and Nichole had begun to tell her about the trials and traumas he

had experienced in running the huge wealthy Trust set up by his father.

‘The old man had this thing about stately homes, I guess I feel the same.

He owned a fair handful of the things himself, so he had a taste for them,

if you know what I mean. There was the plantation down in Lina and then a

couple of caux in France and a palazzo in Rome, so it just happened

naturally that he should have this idea of using his millions to preserve and

protect big houses, and now the Trust has a whole skew of them all over the

world, and more wanting to have the Trust bankroll them every day.’

Kelly, with her own admittedly second-hand experience of her brother’s

problems in running and financing his own large family estate in Australia, had

quite naturally been very interested in what Nichole had had to say, but it had still

surprised her a few days later to receive not just a telephone call from him but

the offer of a job as his personal assistant.

Kelly wasn’t nineteen any longer, nor was she the naive and perhaps over-

protected girl she had once been. Nichole might be in his early sixties and might,

so far, not have done or said anything to suggest that he had any ulterior motive

whatsoever in making contact with her, but nevertheless, having asked him for

time to consider his unexpected offer, the first thing Kelly had done was

telephone her brother in Australia and ask for his advice.

An unscheduled and unfortunately brief visit from Nick and his wife Elly to

vet Nichole and talk over the situation with Kelly had resulted in her deciding to

take the job, a decision which, twelve months down the line, she regularly

paused to congratulate herself on making, or at least she had done until now.

Her work was varied and fascinating, and barely left her with any time to Her work was varied and fascinating, and barely left her with any time to

draw breath, never mind for any personal relationships with members of the

opposite sex, but that didn’t worry Kelly. So far, what she had learned from her

experiences with men was that she was a particularly poor judge of the breed.

First there had been her revoltingly humiliating teenage crush on David and his

rejection of her, then there had been the appalling danger she had put herself and

her family in with her foolish involvement with Sam.

She and Sam might never have been lovers but she had known, from the

first, of his involvement in the drug scene and, as foolishly as she had tried to

convince herself that David would fall in love with her, she had also tried to

convince herself that Sam was simply a lost soul in need of protecting and

saving.

She had been wrong on both counts. Love was the last emotion David had ever

felt for her. And as for Sam... Well, thankfully he was now safely out of her

life.

Her new job took every minute of her time and every ounce of her energy.

Each new property the Trust decided to ‘adopt’ had to be inspected, vetted and

then painstakingly brought up to the same standard as all the other properties the

Trust financed and opened to the general public.

Kelly knew that her employer’s highly individualistic and personalised way

of deciding which of the multitude of properties he was offered as potential new

additions to the Trust’s portfolio were worth acquiring caused other

organisations to eye him slightly askance. For Nichole to accept a house it had to

have what he described as the ‘right feel’, but his eccentricities tended to make

Kelly feel almost maternally protective of him.

Or at least they had until now.

To return from a some-week trip to city, where she had been supervising the

takeover of a particularly beautiful if horrendously run-down eighteenth-century

palace they had recently added to their acquisitions, to discover that in her

absence Nichole had made yet another acquisition in the form of city, a

huge neoclassical building set in its own parkland , had caused her

heart to sink into her shoes.

‘But Kelly, this place is a gem, a perfect example of Europein neoclassicism,’

she could hear Nichole protesting as he studied her stubborn expression. ‘I

promise you, you’ll love it. I’ve had Sena book you onto the day after

tomorrow’s flight for Australia. I thought you’d be pleased. You were

only complaining way back in the spring how much you wanted to spend more

time with your brother and his wife and their kids...

‘This house... Did I tell you, by the way, that the guy who inherited it just

happens to know your brother and that’s how he’d got to hear about us? It

seems that he was telling your brother about the problems he was

experiencing, having unexpectedly inherited this place, and Nick suggested that

he should get in touch with me... I wasn’t too sure at first. After all, we’ve

already got that pretty little bebeis place down near tower, but, well, I

felt I owed it to Nick, so I flew over to Australian and went to have a look.’

Kelly closed her eyes as she listened to Nichole extolling the virtues of

City Hall.

How could she admit to him that it wasn’t so much the house itself she

objected to as its owner?

Its owner...

There it was on the front page of the report... City Hall... Owner... Sir

David. Sir David now, not just David any longer... Not that Kelly

was impressed by a title. How could she be when her own brother was an

earl?

She had known all about David’s unexpected inheritance of course. It had been

the subject of a good deal of discussion at Christmas, when she had gone home,

not least because David, with an estate of his own to run, quite naturally could no

longer run her brother’s.

No one, least of all David himself, had expected that he would inherit. After all,

his cousin had only been in his early forties and had seemed perfectly fit. The

last thing anyone imagined was that he would suffer a fatal heart attack.

Kelly had smiled politely, but without interest. The last thing, the last person

she wanted to waste time talking about was David.

Her memories of the way he had rejected her might have been carefully and

very deeply buried but...but every time she returned to her brother’s home she

was painfully reminded of her eighteen-year-old self and her vulnerability.

No question about it, she must have annoyed and aggravated David with her

unwanted adoration, but surely he could have handled the situation and her a

little more gently, let her down a bit more caringly instead of...

Kelly was aware that Nichole was watching her expectantly. How could she, as

her instincts urged her to do, totally and flatly refuse to have anything to do with

David? She couldn’t. She was a woman now, a woman who prided herself on her

professionalism, a woman who along with her outward Australia shine and

gloss had also developed an inner self-worth and determination. She loved her

work and she truly believed that what Nichole and the Trust were doing was

extremely worthwhile extremely worthwhile.

Secretly, there was nothing she enjoyed more than watching the houses that

Nichole rescued from their often pitiful state of decay being restored to their

former glory... Perhaps it was idealistic and, yes, even foolishly romantic of her,

but there was something about watching the process, of seeing these once grand

homes rising phoenix-like from the ashes of their own neglect, that touched a

chord within her. She could well understand what motivated Nichole, and she

suspected that, ironically, it had been that long-ago conservation scheme she had

worked on under David’s supervision which had awakened within her the

awareness of how very important it was to preserve and care for—to protect—a

landscape and its architecture, which had ultimately led to her sharing Nichole’s

passion for their task.

However, Kelly’s responsibility as an employee of the Trust included a duty

not just to share Nichole’s enthusiasm but to make sure as well that the Trust’s

acquisitions were funded and run in a businesslike manner, and that the Trust’s

money was used shrewdly and wisely and not wasted or squandered—a

responsibility which Kelly took very seriously. No project, and certainly no bill,

was too small for Kelly to break down and scrutinise very carefully indeed, a

fact which caused the Trust’s accountants to comment approvingly on her

attention to detail and her excellent bookkeeping.

It had been pointless for Nichole to protest when they had been renovating the

palazzo that he preferred the red silk to the gold which Kelly had

favoured.

Pink is almost twice as expensive,’ she had pointed out sternly, adding as a

clincher, ‘And besides, the records we’ve managed to trace all indicate that this

room was originally decorated in gold and hung with gold drapes...’

‘Then gold it is, then.’ Nichole had given in with a sigh, but Kelly had been the

one who had been forced to give in to him a few weeks later when, on their

departure from Rome, Nichole had presented her with a set of the most exquisite

and expensive leather luggage crafted as only the Italians could craft leather.

Nichole, I can’t possibly accept this,’ Kelly had protested with a small gasp.

‘Why not? It is your birthday, isn’t it?’ Nichole had countered, and of course he

had been right, and ultimately Kelly had given in.

Although, as she had told her brother defensively at Christmas when

Elly had marvelled enviously at the luggage, ‘I didn’t want to accept it but

Nichole would have been hurt if I hadn’t.’ She’d added worriedly, Nick, do you

think I should have refused...? If you...’

Kelly, the luggage is beautiful and you did the right thing to accept it,’ Nick

had reassured her gently. ‘Stop worrying, little one,’ he had commanded her.

‘Little one’! Only Nick ever called her that, and it made her feel so...so

protected and safe.

Protected and safe? She was an adult, a woman, for heaven’s sake, and more

than capable of protecting herself, of keeping herself safe. Irritably she dragged

her attention back to the file she was holding.

‘You don’t approve, do you?’ Nichole demanded, shaking his head ruefully.

‘Just wait until you see it, though, Kelly. You’ll love it. It’s a perfect example

of.