Книга - Innocent In The Boardroom: At Her Boss’s Pleasure / Her Boss by Day… / How to Sleep with the Boss

Innocent In The Boardroom: At Her Boss's Pleasure / Her Boss by Day... / How to Sleep with the Boss
Janice Maynard

Joss Wood

CATHY WILLIAMS


At Her Boss’s Pleasure by Cathy Williams Notorious billionaire boss Alessandro Preda is intrigued by virginal Kate. He’s used to women flaunting themselves – not trying to avoid him! He will relish unleashing the volcano of sensuality he senses within her. Yet neither is prepared for what happens when one pleasurable night is nowhere near enough…Her Boss by Day… by Joss Wood When international fitness tycoon Rob Hanson needs a new accountant Willa Moore-Fisher can’t believe her luck. There’s just one problem: she already knows her new boss… intimately! Soon, brooding bachelor Rob finds himself wondering if he should make his new temp a more permanent fixture in his life!How to Sleep with the Boss by Janice Maynard Libby Parkhurst is out of options. So she accepts Patrick Kavanagh’s job offer – even though he’s only given it at his mother’s request. He may not want her in his office. But taking her to bed? He’s making that his top priority!













About the Authors

CATHY WILLIAMS can remember reading Mills & Boon books as a teenager, and now that she is writing them she remains an avid fan. For her, there is nothing like creating romantic stories and engaging plots, and each and every book is a new adventure. Cathy lives in London and her three daughters, Charlotte, Olivia and Emma, have always been, and continue to be, the greatest inspiration in her life.

JOSS WOOD wrote her first book at the age of eight and has never really stopped. Her passion for putting letters on a blank screen is matched only by her love of books and travelling – especially to the wild places of Southern Africa. Happily and chaotically surrounded by books, family and friends, she lives in Kwa-Zulu Natal, South Africa, with her husband, children and their many pets.

USA TODAY bestselling author JANICE MAYNARD knew she loved books and writing by the time she was eight years old. But it took multiple rejections and many years of trying before she sold her first three novels. After teaching for a number of years, Janice turned in her lesson plan book and began writing fulltime. Since then she has sold over thirty-five books and novellas. Janice lives in east Tennessee with her husband, Charles. They love hiking, travelling and spending time with family.


Innocent in the Boardroom

At Her Boss’s Pleasure

Cathy Williams

Her Boss by Day?

Joss Wood

How to Sleep with the Boss

Janice Maynard






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Table of Contents

Cover (#u06dc3d7d-84ed-54ea-a261-a3ce16faa6a7)

About the Authors (#ub04284dc-8dcc-5174-8423-e95655f1461f)

Title Page (#u7fc25983-c5a5-5011-8bd8-a225e85166b2)

At Her Boss’s Pleasure (#ud620711a-0344-5614-848e-f13bea1e19f3)

CHAPTER ONE (#u1e74384e-3135-57a1-92df-c8c0f61b464f)

CHAPTER TWO (#ub91b31f7-7e31-5cc6-8a6f-ea0a61536c6a)

CHAPTER THREE (#u2726cac7-5e23-527f-854f-a3f769361066)

CHAPTER FOUR (#ue64a1ebb-82d7-5424-8f04-a6fe2aa7bb87)

CHAPTER FIVE (#u5f2056b7-d8c9-574c-a553-19b523eb7f4d)

CHAPTER SIX (#u15001804-2678-5acb-869b-af86df64b63e)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#u086a2fd1-1afb-5358-b792-499c14bd9cfd)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

Her Boss by Day? (#litres_trial_promo)

Dedication (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ONE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWO (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THREE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)

How to Sleep with the Boss (#litres_trial_promo)

Dedication (#litres_trial_promo)

One (#litres_trial_promo)

Two (#litres_trial_promo)

Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


At Her Boss’s Pleasure (#u29a44239-142c-584d-bdfb-84b94218c41c)

Cathy Williams


CHAPTER ONE (#u29a44239-142c-584d-bdfb-84b94218c41c)

FRIDAY. END OF JULY. Six-thirty in the evening...

And where, Kate thought, am I? Still in the office. She was the last man standing. Or sitting, in actual fact. At her desk, with the computer flickering in front of her and profit and loss columns demanding attention. Not immediate attention—nothing that couldn’t wait until the following Monday morning—but...

She sighed and sat back, stretching out the knots in her shoulders, and for a few minutes allowed herself to get lost in thought.

She was twenty-seven years old and she knew where she should be right now—and it wasn’t in the office. Even if it was a very nice office, in a more-than-very-nice building, in the prestigious heart of London.

In fact she should be anywhere but here.

She should be out enjoying herself, lazing around in Hyde Park with friends, drinking wine and luxuriating in the long, hot summer. Or having a barbecue in a back garden somewhere. Or maybe just sitting inside, with some music on in the background and a significant other discussing his day and asking about hers.

She blinked and the vision of possibilities vanished. Since moving to London four years ago she could count on the fingers of one hand the number of close friends she had managed to make, and since qualifying as an accountant and joining AP Logistics a year and a half ago she had made none.

Acquaintances, yes...but friends? No. She just wasn’t the sort of outgoing, chirpy, confidence-sharing, giggling sort of girl who made friends easily and was always part of a group. She knew that and she rarely thought about it all—except...well...it was Friday, and outside the baking sun was fading into pleasant balmy warmth, and in the rest of the world people her age were all out there enjoying themselves. In Hyde Park. Or in those back gardens where barbecues were happening...

She glanced through her office door and an array of empty desks stared back at her accusingly, mockingly, pointing out her shortcomings.

She hurriedly made a mental list of all the wonderful upsides to her life.

Great job at one of the most prestigious companies in the country. Her own office, which was a remarkable achievement considering her age. Her own small one-bedroom flat in a nice enough area in West London. How many girls her age actually owned their own place? In London? Yes, there was a mortgage, but still...

She had done well.

So she might not be able to escape her past. But she could bury it so deeply that it could no longer affect her.

Except...

She was here, at work, on her own, on a Friday evening, on the twenty-sixth of July...

So what did that say?

She hunched back over the screen and decided to give herself another half an hour before she would leave the office and head back to her empty flat.

Thankfully she became so engrossed in the numbers staring back at her that she was barely aware of the distant ping of the lift and the sound of footsteps approaching the huge open-plan room where the secretaries and trainee accountants sat, and then moving on, heading towards her office.

She was squinting at the screen and totally unaware of the tall, dark figure looming by the door until he spoke, and then she jumped and for a few unguarded seconds was not the cool, collected woman she usually was.

Alessandro Preda always seemed to have that effect on her.

There was something about the man...and it was more—much more—than the fact that he owned the company...this great big company that had dozens of satellite companies under its umbrella.

There was something about him... He was just so much larger than life, and not in a comforting, cuddly-bear kind of way.

‘Sir... Mr Preda... How can I help you?’ Kate leapt to her feet, smoothing down her neat grey skirt with one hand, tidying the bun at the nape of her neck with the other—not that it needed tidying.

Alessandro, who had been leaning indolently against the doorframe, sauntered into her office, which was the only area lit on this floor of his company.

‘You can start by sitting back down, Kate. When I achieve royal status you can spring to your feet as I enter the room. Until then there’s really no need.’

Kate plastered a polite smile on her lips and sat down. Alessandro Preda might be drop-dead gorgeous—all lean and bronzed and oozing sexy danger—but there was nothing about him she found in the least bit appealing.

Too many people were in awe of his brilliance. Too many women swooned at his feet like pathetic, helpless damsels in distress. And he was just too arrogant for his own good. He was the man who had it all, and he was very much aware of that fact.

But, since he literally owned the ground she walked on, she had no choice but to smile, smile, smile and hope he didn’t see beneath the smile.

‘And there’s no need to call me sir every time you address me. Haven’t I told you that before?’

Dark-as-night eyes swung in her direction and lazily inspected the cool, pale face that had not cracked a genuine smile in all the time she had been working at his company. At least not in his presence.

‘Yes, you have...er...’

‘Alessandro...the name is Alessandro. It’s a family firm—I like to keep it casual with my employees...’

He swung round to perch on the edge of her desk and Kate automatically inched back in her chair.

Hardly a family firm, she thought sarcastically. Unless your family runs into thousands and happens to be scattered to the four corners of the globe. Big family.

‘What can I do for you, Alessandro?’

‘Actually, I came to leave some papers for Cape. Where is he? And why are you the only one alive and kicking here? Where are the rest of the accounts team?’

‘It’s after six-thirty...er...Alessandro... They all left a while ago...’

Alessandro consulted his watch and frowned. ‘You’re right. Not that it’s stretching the outer limits of the imagination to think that at least a few members of my highly paid staff might be here. Working.’ He looked at her, eyes narrowed. ‘So what are you still doing here?’

‘I had a few reports I wanted to get through before I left. It’s a productive time of day...when everyone else has left for the evening...’

Alessandro looked at her consideringly, head tilted to one side.

What was it about this woman? He had had some dealings with her over the past few months. She was a hard worker, diligent, had been fast-tracked by George Cape. He certainly had not been able to fault the quickness of her mind. Indeed, she seemed to have a knack for cutting through the crap and finding the source of problems—which wasn’t that easy in the fiddly arena of finance.

Everything about her was professional, but there was something missing.

The cool green eyes were guarded, the full mouth always tight and polite, the hair never out of place.

His eyes roved lower, taking in a body that was well sheathed behind a prim white long-sleeved shirt, neatly cuffed at the wrists and buttoned to the neck.

Outside, the temperatures had been soaring for the past three weeks—and yet you would never guess, looking at her, that it was summer beyond the office walls. He would bet his fortune that she would be wearing tights.

He, personally, thrived on a rich diet of sexy women who flaunted their assets, so Ms Kate Watson’s severe veneer never failed to arouse his curiosity.

The last time he had worked with her—for several days, on a tricky tax issue with which she had seemed more adept at dealing than her boss, George Cape, whose head had recently been in the clouds—he had tried to find out a bit more about her. Had asked her a few questions about what she did outside work...her hobbies, her interests. Polite chit-chat as they had taken time out over the food that had been delivered to his office suite.

Most women responded to any interest he showed in them by opening up. They couldn’t wait to tell him all about themselves. They preened and blossomed when he looked at them, when he listened to what they had to say, even though, in fairness, his attention wasn’t always exclusively on what they were talking about.

Kate Watson? Not a bit of it. She had stared at him with those cool green eyes and had managed to divert the conversation without giving anything of herself away.

‘You’re here every evening at this hour?’

Still perched on her desk, invading her space, Alessandro picked up a glass paperweight in the shape of a goldfish and twirled it thoughtfully between his fingers.

‘No, of course not.’ But far too often, all things considered.

‘No? Just today? Even though it’s the hottest day of the year?’

‘I’m not a big fan of hot weather.’ She lowered her eyes, suddenly a little angry at some kind of unspoken, amused criticism behind his words. ‘I find it makes me sluggish.’

‘It would,’ Alessandro pointed out, dumping the goldfish back on the desk where he had found it, ‘if you wear long-sleeved shirts and starched skirts.’

‘If you’d like to leave the papers with me, I’ll make sure I give them to George when he’s back.’

‘Back from where?’

‘He’s on holiday at the moment. Canada. He’s not due back for another two weeks.’

‘Two weeks!’

‘It’s not that long. Most people book two-week holidays during summer...’

‘Have you?’

‘Well, no...but...’

‘Not sure this can wait until Cape decides to grace us with his presence.’

He stood up and slapped a sheaf of papers on her desk, then placed his hands, palms down, squarely on either side of the papers and leaned into her.

‘I asked Watson Russell if he knew anything about the anomalies in the supply chain to the leisure centres I’m setting up along the coastline and he told me that it’s been Cape’s baby from the start. True or false?’

‘I believe he is in charge of those accounts.’

‘You believe?’

Kate took a deep breath and did her utmost not to be intimidated by the man crowding her—but it was next to impossible. Tall, raven-haired, muscular and leaning into her, he didn’t cause anything but a rapidly beating heart, a dry mouth and perspiring palms which she surreptitiously wiped on her skirt.

‘He’s in charge of those accounts. Exclusively. Perhaps you could explain what it is you’d like to find out?’

Alessandro pushed himself away from the desk and prowled through the office, noting in passing how little there was of her personality in it. No cutesy photographs in frames on the desk, no pot plants, no gimmicky pen-holder...not even a desk calendar with uplifting seascapes...or works of art...or adorable puppies...or semi-clad firemen...

He said nothing for a few seconds, then spun to face her, hands thrust deep into his trouser pockets.

‘Quite by chance a batch of files was delivered to me—probably because “Private and Confidential” was stamped so boldly on the envelope that the post boy must have automatically headed up to the directors’ floor. I scanned them and there appeared to be...how shall I say this?...certain discrepancies that need checking out.’

He couldn’t keep his eye on every single small detail within his vast empire. He paid people very generously indeed to do that, and with the fat pay packet came a great deal of trust.

He trusted his people not to try and screw him over.

‘There are a couple of small companies whose names I can’t say I recognize. I may have a lot of companies, but generally speaking I do know what they’re called...’

Kate paled as the significance of what he was saying began to sink in.

‘You catch on quickly,’ Alessandro said approvingly. ‘I had actually come down here to confront Cape with these files, but in his absence it might be a better idea for you to have a look at them and collate whatever evidence is necessary.’

‘Evidence? Necessary for what?’ she asked faintly, and flushed when he raised his eyebrows in question, as if incredulous that the point of what he had said might have passed her by. ‘George Cape is nearly at retirement age...he’s a family man...he has a wife, kids, grandchildren...’

‘Call me crazy,’ Alessandro said, with such silky assurance that she wanted to throw the goldfish paperweight at his handsome head, ‘but when someone I employ decides to take advantage of my generosity I tend to feel a little aggrieved. Of course I could be completely off target here. There might very well be a simple explanation for what I’ve seen...’

‘But if there isn’t...?’ She was unwillingly mesmerized by the graceful way he moved around her small office, his jacket bunching where his hand was shoved in his trouser pocket.

‘Well, the wheels of justice have to do something to keep busy...’ He shrugged. ‘So, here’s how this is going to play out: I am officially going to hand the files over to you and you are to examine them minutely, from cover to cover. I am assuming you know Cape’s password for his computer?’

‘I’m afraid I don’t.’

‘In which case get one of the computer whizz-kids to sort that out. You’re going to go through every single document that has been exchanged on this particular project and get back to me out of work hours.’

‘Out of work hours? What are you talking about?’

‘I think Cape’s been embezzling,’ Alessandro informed her bluntly. ‘We could keep going round the houses, but that’s the long and short of it. I had no idea that he was in sole charge of this project. Had he not been I might have been inclined to widen the net of suspicion, but it fundamentally comes down to just one man.’

He paused to stand in front of her desk and she reluctantly looked up—and up, and up—into his dark, lean face.

‘From what I’ve seen there’s not a great deal of money involved, which might be why no alarm bells went off, but not a great deal over a long period of time could potentially amount to a very great deal, and if there are dummy companies involved...’

‘I hate the thought of checking into what George has been doing,’ Kate said truthfully. ‘He’s such a lovely guy, and he’s been good to me since I began working here. If it weren’t for him I probably wouldn’t have been promoted as quickly as I have been...’

‘Blow his trumpet too vigorously and I might start thinking that you are in on whatever the hell’s been going on.’

‘I’m not,’ she said coldly, her voice freezing over. Her green eyes held his. ‘I would never cheat anyone of anything. That’s not the sort of person I am.’

Alessandro’s ears pricked up. He had dropped down to the third floor to deposit these papers with George Cape before heading out. He had no date—and no regret there either. His last blonde bombshell had gone the way of all good things, and he was back to the drawing board and more than happy to have a break from the fairer sex.

Kate Watson—Ms Kate Watson—was everything he avoided when it came to women. She was cold, distant, intense, unsmiling and prickly. She never let him forget that she was there to do a damn good job and nothing else.

But that single sentence...That’s not the sort of person I am...had made him wonder.

What sort of person was she?

‘You were asking me about my out-of-hours suggestion...’ Alessandro moved the topic swiftly along, at the same time relegating her stray remark to a box from which it would be removed at a later date.

He had nothing to do on a Friday night. A rare situation for him. He dragged the single spare chair in the room across to her desk and sat down, angling it so that he could extend his long legs to the side, crossing them at the ankles.

Kate watched with something approaching horror. ‘I was about to leave... Perhaps we could continue this conversation on Monday morning? I’m usually in first thing. By seven-thirty most days.’

‘Laudable. It’s heart-warming to know that there’s at least one person in my finance department who doesn’t clock-watch.’

‘I’m sure you must have plans for the evening, sir...Alessandro. If I take the paperwork home I can have a look at it over the weekend and get back to you with my findings on Monday morning. How does that sound?’

‘The reason I suggested that we discuss this situation out of hours is because I would rather not have it turned into a matter for speculation. Naturally you would be paid generously for your overtime.’

‘It’s not about being paid for overtime,’ Kate said stiffly. She kept her eyes firmly pinned to his face, but she was all too aware of the lazy length of his body, the flex of muscles under the white shirt, the tanned column of his throat and the strength of his forearms where he had shoved the sleeves of his shirt to the elbows.

He had always made her jumpy, in a way other men never had. There was a raw, primal, barely contained aggression about him that threatened her composure, and it had done so from the very first time she had set eyes on him as a new recruit to the company.

It was dangerous. It was the sort of dangerous she could do without. She didn’t like the way her body seemed to respond to him of its own accord. It frightened her.

Her upbringing had taught her many things, and the biggest thing it had taught her was the need for control. Control over her emotions, control over her finances, control over the destination of her life. She had grown up with a role model of a mother who had lacked all control.

Shirley Watson had adopted the frivolous name Lilac at the age of eighteen, and had spent her life living up to it—moving from pole dancer to cocktail-bar waitress to barmaid back to cocktail-bar waitress, flirting with men’s magazine pin-ups along the way.

A stunningly beautiful, pocket-sized blonde, she had only ever learned how to exploit the natural assets with which she had been born. Kate only knew sketchy details of her mother’s past, but she did know that Lilac had grown up as a foster-home kid. She had never known stability, and instead of trying to create some of her own had relied on being a dumb blonde, always believing that love lay just round the corner, that the men who slept with her really loved her.

Kate’s father had vanished from the scene shortly after she was born, leaving Lilac heartbroken at the age of just twenty-one. From him, she had moved on to a string of men—two of whom she had married and subsequently divorced in record time. In between the marriages she had devoted her life to pointlessly trying to attract men, always confusing their enthusiasm for her body for love, always distraught when they tired of her and pushed on.

She was a smart woman, but she had learned to conceal her brains because a brainy woman, she had once confided in her daughter, never got the guy.

Kate loved her mother, but she had always been painfully aware of her shortcomings and had determined from an early age that she would not live a life blighted by the same mistakes her mother had made.

It helped that she was dark-haired. And tall. She lacked her mother’s obvious sex appeal and for that she was thankful. Her assets she kept firmly under wraps, and when it came to men...well...

Any man who liked her for her body was off the cards. No way was she ever going to fall into the same helpless trap her mother had. She relied on her brains, and goodness knew it had been tough going, ploughing through her school years, moving from place to place, never quite knowing what would confront her on her return home from school.

Her mother, by a stroke of good fortune, had been given sufficient money by her second husband in their subsequent divorce to enable her to buy somewhere small in Cornwall. She—Kate—would not be relying on any such stroke of fortune. She would provide for herself by hook or by crook and be independent.

And when and if she ever fell in love it would be with a guy who appreciated her intelligence, who was not the kind of man with commitment issues, who didn’t abandon women after he had had his fill of them, who didn’t go out with women because of the way they looked.

So far this paragon of virtue hadn’t appeared on the scene, but that didn’t mean that she would ever be distracted in the meantime by the sort of guy she privately despised.

So why, she wondered, did her stupid body begin a slow burn whenever Alessandro Preda was within her radius?

And now here he was, making noises about them working alongside one another outside normal working hours.

‘Then what is it about?’ Alessandro demanded, bringing her back to the reality of him sitting across from her with a bump. ‘Hectic social life? Can’t spare a week to sort this matter out?’ He glanced around him before settling his dark eyes on her cool, pale face. ‘Despite the extremely pleasant office you have here at the tender age of what...? Twenty-something...?’

‘I’ve been promoted on merit.’

‘And part of that promotion involves going beyond the call of duty now and again. Consider this one of those instances.’

Kate lowered her eyes, keeping her cool.

‘You said you were heading off now...?’

‘Yes.’

‘In that case...’ Alessandro stood up and sauntered towards the door, where he proceeded to lean against it, staring at her ‘...I’ll walk you down. In fact, I’ll go one better. I’ll give you a lift to your house. Where do you live?’

Kate licked her lips nervously and ventured a polite smile as she stood up as well, and began tidying a desk that wasn’t in need of tidying.

‘How long have you been here?’

His voice had her head snapping up and she looked at him in bewilderment.

‘How long have I been where? In your company? Working in London?’

‘Let’s start with in this office.’

Kate looked around her at her neat space, in which she felt so safely cocooned. These four walls were tangible proof of how far she’d come and how quickly—tangible proof of the solid income that marked her steps along that road called financial security.

Her mother had asked if she could visit her place of work when next she was in London but Kate had tactfully, and a little shamefully, killed the suggestion before it could take shape.

Lilac Watson, not yet fifty, and these days thankfully a little less obvious in displaying what she had to offer physically, would still never have blended into these muted, expensive surroundings.

This was Kate’s life, built with her own blood, sweat and tears, and her mother had her own life. In Cornwall. Far away. Separate.

‘What about it?’ She shoved her work laptop into a leather briefcase and reached for the grey jacket she had slung over the back of her chair.

Grey jacket, grey calf-length skirt, flat, sensible patent pumps and, yes, definitely tights. Not stockings. Tights. Possibly of the support variety. Who knew? It was impossible to tell what sort of figure she had under the prim ensemble. Not fat, not thin, tall... The shirt managed to hide everything up top and the skirt did a similar job with everything down below.

And why the hell was he looking anyway?

‘How long have you been here? In it?’

Kate paused and frowned. ‘A little over six months. To start with I was moved in here because I was working late on a couple of very big clients and George thought that the quiet would help concentration. Not that it’s a mad house outside. It isn’t. And then, when I was promoted, I was offered it. I snapped it up.’

She reached for her briefcase, slung her black bag over her shoulder and straightened her skirt.

‘Thanks very much for your offer of a ride home, but there are one or two things I need to collect on the way so I shall take the Tube.’

‘What things?’

‘Things... Food items. I need to stop off at the corner shop.’

Alessandro heard irritation behind her calmly spoken words. This was something he wasn’t used to, and he was as bemused by his own reaction to it as he had been by his earlier curiosity as to what lay underneath the prissy work clothes.

‘Not a problem.’ He waved aside her objection. ‘I’ve sent my driver home and I have my own car. Far more convenient if you load whatever you need to buy into my car rather than having to walk with it back to your house.’

‘I’m accustomed to walking home with my groceries.’

Alessandro looked at her narrowly. He wouldn’t have taken her for being skittish, but there was something skittish about her now. And why turn down a ride home? With him?

‘It would be useful for us to decide how to approach this delicate problem with George Cape and whatever money he’s been siphoning off.’

‘If he’s been siphoning off any. And I was under the impression that you had already decided what you would do if you found out that he had taken money from you...throw him in prison and chuck away the keys.’

‘Let’s hope I’ve got it wrong, in that case, and he’ll be spared the prison sentence.’ He stepped aside, leaving her just sufficient room to brush past him through the door, switching off the lights in her wake. ‘You’ve been in this office for six months and this is the first time it’s struck me that there’s nothing personal in here at all. Nothing.’ Kate flushed. ‘It’s an office,’ she said briskly, stepping in front of him, briefcase in one hand, bag over her shoulder, head held high and deliberately averted from him. ‘Not a boudoir.’

‘Boudoir...nice word. Is that where you stash all your personal mementoes? In your boudoir?’

Kate heard the amusement in his voice and turned to him angrily. Get a grip, she told herself sternly. Don’t let the man rattle you. Green flashing eyes clashed with his oh-so-dark ones and she felt herself sinking into his gaze, had to yank herself firmly back to reality.

Alessandro Preda had a reputation with women. Even if the gossip hadn’t reached her ears, one glance at any news rag would have informed her of that reputation.

He used women. He was always being snapped with models draped on his arm, gazing up at him adoringly. Lots of models. A different model for every month of the year. He could have started his own agency with the number of them he ran through. She wondered whether some of those models had been like her mother—sad creatures, blessed with spectacular looks but not enough common sense to know how to use what they had been given. Hanging on. Hoping for more than would ever be on the agenda.

‘Shall I email you my findings?’ Underneath the scrupulous politeness her voice could have frozen fire. She pressed the button to summon the lift and stared at him, as rigid as a plank of wood.

Alessandro had never seen anyone so uptight in his entire life.

This went way beyond self-control—way beyond a certain amount of composure.

What was her story? And didn’t she know that all those ‘No Trespassing’ signs she’d erected around herself were enticing beacons to a man like him?

He was thirty-four years old, and he wasn’t sure whether to be proud or simply accepting of the fact that he had never had to try very hard for a woman. They offered themselves to him.

But Ms Kate Watson had issues with him. He didn’t know what they were, but he did know that they constituted a challenge—and since when had he ever been a man to turn down a challenge?

If he had, he certainly wouldn’t have ended up in the exalted position of power that he had.

He suppressed the onslaught of thoughts that always managed to put him in a foul mood.

‘I don’t think so.’ He stepped back as the lift doors slid open, allowing her to edge past him, making sure she kept her distance as much as she could, doing her utmost to be casual about it. ‘Emails can be intercepted.’

‘Aren’t you being a bit cloak and dagger about all of this?’

Kate addressed the long metal case in the lift containing the various buttons, but she was acutely aware of him right next to her, of the warmth of his body wafting through the air and settling around her like a dangerous cloak that she wanted to shake off. She couldn’t remember him having this sort of effect on her before, but then they had usually been in a room with other people around—not heading down in a lift, just the two of them.

She was alive to his presence in a way that made her whole body feel uncomfortable.

Alessandro stared at that pale averted profile. She was a beautiful woman, he realized with sudden surprise. It was something that wasn’t immediately apparent, because she was at such pains to play down her looks, but studying her now he saw her features were perfect. Her nose was small and straight, her lips oddly full and sexy, her cheekbones high and sharp. Maybe the severity of her hairstyle accentuated all of that.

He wondered how long her hair was. Impossible to tell.

She swung round sharply and he straightened, flushing guiltily at being caught red-handed staring at her. Not very cool.

‘I doubt George is going to do a runner if he gets wind that you’re on to him. And that’s if he’s guilty of anything at all!’

‘Why are you so keen to protect him?’

‘I’m not keen to protect him. Just being fair. Innocent until proved guilty, and all that.’

The lift doors opened with a purr and she stepped out into the vast marbled foyer that still impressed her after nearly two years.

She wasn’t protecting George Cape. Or was she? When she thought of George, a little guy staring down the barrel of a gun and not even realizing it, she thought of her own vulnerable mother, who had lived most of her life staring down the barrel of a gun and not realizing it, and when she thought about her mother she felt her heart constrict.

Which, of course, was not going to do. Least of all with a man like Alessandro Preda. And naturally she could see his point of view.

‘Commendable,’ Alessandro murmured. ‘So we begin on Monday. The hunt to find out whether Cape is guilty of fraud or stupidity. Either way, he will doubtless end up being sacked. Now, where do you live...? My car’s in the underground car park.’


CHAPTER TWO (#u29a44239-142c-584d-bdfb-84b94218c41c)

IT HAD TAKEN a lot for Kate not to get in touch with George Cape over the weekend. Was he guilty of fraud? It was hard to believe. He was a true gentleman, courteous and kind, and he had taken her under his wing when she had started working for him. That said, he had not been his usual self over the past three months. Was there an explanation there somewhere?

She had looked through the files. Thankfully, no dummy companies had been set up—which she hoped ruled out fraud on a systematic large-scale basis. But the odd entries were definitely there, and...

She sighed and looked at her watch. She had managed to put off Alessandro the previous Friday evening, but he would be expecting her in his office now. At nearly seven p.m., the offices were again practically empty—aside from a few hard-core, nose-to-the-grindstone employees who barely glanced in her direction as she briskly walked out of the office with her files towards the bank of lifts.

It had been a while since she had been in Alessandro’s office. Not since that tax problem that had needed sorting out. George and the head of finance had been there too, but there had been a brief period when it had just been her, doing the grunt work with the numbers, and Alessandro, who had been covering other aspects of the problem, and he had ordered in food for both of them.

It had been one of the few occasions when they had been alone together and she could still vividly recall the way she had burned when she had glanced up at one point and their eyes had met.

He had very dark eyes, fringed with thick, dark lashes, and that day he had had the sort of brooding, thoughtful expression that sent shivers racing up and down her spine. Having him look at her had felt like a very physical experience and she hadn’t liked it.

And now that she was stepping into the lion’s den again she was determined to bring her wayward reactions to heel.

Unfortunately her rapidly beating heart was already letting the side down, and by the time she heard that deep, masculine drawl telling her to enter her palms were sweaty and her nerves were all over the place.

He was sprawled in his leather chair, hands folded loosely on his stomach.

‘Slight change of plan.’

They were his opening words and Kate stopped abruptly in her tracks. ‘I could always leave the files and we can discuss them another time.’ Disappointment warred with relief. ‘If you’re busy.’ Her eyes flickered away from their compulsive visual tour of his body.

‘We will discuss this over something to eat.’

That had her snapping to attention, and she looked at him with alarm. ‘There’s no need.’ She had already recalled the last time they had shared a meal in this setting, and a repeat performance was something she could do without. ‘I haven’t managed to speak to the computer department about getting hold of George’s password, but I don’t think we will need to do that.’ She took a few steps forward and thrust the files onto his desk. ‘There are no dummy companies. I’ve checked that out thoroughly. And—’

‘Over dinner.’

He slung his long body out of the chair and grabbed the jacket that had been tossed on the leather sofa by the wall. He didn’t bother to put it on, preferring to hook it over his shoulder with his finger, and then he continued.

‘I’ve asked you to work after hours. It’s only fair that I take you out to dinner. I mean, we do both have to eat...’

‘I hadn’t thought... This really won’t take very long...’

Alessandro had paused to stand in front of her, his lean, muscular body radiating a power that sapped her energy and threw her into a state of confusion. She resented both things. She was the consummate professional—a woman whose composed, efficient veneer was never dented. She had devoted her whole life to controlling the sort of feminine weakness that had reduced her mother to a victim over the years.

To combat the treacherous ache in her body she tightened her jacket around her, buttoning it and standing straighter—ramrod straight.

‘This is a man’s future we’re talking about,’ Alessandro’s keen eyes had noted all her little defence mechanisms: the way her lips had pursed, the tension in her shoulders, the buttoning of the jacket. ‘You wouldn’t want to write it off in a five-minute summary just because you happen to have a hot date for the evening, would you?’

‘I don’t have a hot date.’

The words left her mouth before she could drag them back, and it was no big deal but she still felt suddenly vulnerable and exposed. Her cheeks were burning as curious eyes lingered on her face.

‘I...I prefer to stay in on week nights,’ she gamely went on, even though she knew she should just shut up, because now he was staring at her with even more curiosity. ‘I often take work home with me. There’s a lot to get through and I know how easy it is for...for...things to pile up...’

‘You work late every evening, Kate. I don’t imagine anyone would expect you to take work home with you as well.’ He moved towards the door and opened it, standing back to allow her through. ‘Which is all the more reason for me to take you out for dinner, so that we can discuss this in less formal surroundings. I wouldn’t want you to see me as an unscrupulous boss who denies his employees a private life.’

Rattled, Kate walked briskly towards the lift. She turned to look at him. ‘But aren’t you?’

It was a daring question. One she shouldn’t have asked. He represented everything she didn’t like. In the normal course of events their paths would scarcely overlap. He rarely ventured down into the bowels of his offices, where the little people kept the wheels of his machinery well oiled and turning. But she didn’t like what he did to her, what he did to her prized self-control, and some wicked little devil inside her had pushed her to be more daring than she normally would have been.

‘Aren’t I what?’ He wondered how he had not noticed before the way her green eyes were the colour of polished glass.

Those polished-glass eyes slid sideways now.

‘Unscrupulous.’ Kate said eventually, although she still wasn’t looking at him as the lift carried them downstairs in what felt like a step out of routine that she didn’t want to take. Her heart was beating frantically inside her and she was thankful for the reliable armour of her neat starched suit. It gave her a confidence that was suddenly missing.

As they exited the building it was at least easier to talk to him when she was walking next to him and not staring directly at his face.

‘What I’m saying is I thought that in order to make it to the top you would have to be unscrupulous. No one ever gets to play in the Champions League unless they’re willing to...well...’

‘Crush everyone and everything in their path?’ He clasped her arm and turned her to face him.

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘That’s not my style. There’s no need. And if this has to do with any decision I make about Cape, then you’re way off target. If Cape’s been defrauding my company then he’ll take the consequences. It’s an unfortunate truth that people must live and die by the decisions they make.’

‘That seems a little harsh.’

‘Does it?’ His eyes darkened but he released her arm, even though he didn’t immediately carry on walking. The crowds parted around them, shooting them curious looks.

Here, outside, it was very warm, and her suit of armour was beginning to feel more than a bit uncomfortable. Her skin prickled and she licked her lips nervously.

‘Not that it’s any of my business,’ she was quick to add. ‘Where are we going to eat?’

‘Is that your way of telling me that you’d like to bring this conversation to an end?’

‘I shouldn’t have said...what I said.’

‘You’re free to speak your mind.’

They began walking to a gastropub that was tucked down one of the tiny side streets close to his offices in the heart of the city.

‘Because it’s really just a family firm...?’ There was a smile in her voice as she tried to lighten the atmosphere.

‘You’ve got it. One big, happy family—just so long as all my family members behave themselves. When one of them steps out of line, then I’m afraid I have to rule with a firm hand.’

‘It’s a very big family.’

‘Which started small. And I suppose that’s why it’s important for me to take control when a situation such as the one we have now develops. I didn’t create this baby for anyone to get it into their heads that they could climb on my bandwagon and begin looting. Here we are.’

He pushed open the door into a space that was so dark it took Kate a couple of seconds for her eyes to adjust. Dark and refreshingly cool, and quaintly higgledy-piggledy.

‘This is not the sort of place I thought you would have liked,’ she blurted out impulsively, and Alessandro smiled.

‘I’m old friends with the man who owns it, and as a matter of fact coming here is something of an antidote to my frenetic pace of life. Why don’t you take your jacket off?’

‘I’m fine.’

Alessandro raised his eyebrows with mild disbelief. ‘I expect you’d like to get down to work immediately...bypass all the pleasantries...?’

‘I have all the files in my briefcase.’

‘I hate to curb your enthusiasm, but I could do with relaxing for five minutes before I begin to hear about what George Cape’s been up to. You might think I’m hard-line, but Cape’s been with my company for a quite a number of years. It’s regrettable that he could not have just approached me had he wanted a loan.’

She was spared the temptation of telling him that perhaps he needed to work on the whole family atmosphere approach by the arrival of the owner of the restaurant, who made a great fuss of Alessandro. They lapsed into rapid Italian and she covertly watched Alessandro, relaxed, gesticulating, grinning, showing her a natural warmth that was usually concealed under the forbidding exterior.

This would be the man who charmed women, she thought. The guy who could have any woman he wanted at the snap of a finger and made full use of the talent.

And, of course, none of those women were Plain Janes or, God forbid, downright unappealing.

Drawn into their conversation towards the end, she smiled politely and offered the owner her hand in a businesslike handshake which, as they moved towards a table nestled in its own alcove towards the back of the restaurant, Alessandro told her had successfully nipped his friend’s salacious ideas in the bud.

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ Once seated, she pointedly extracted the file they would need to discuss and placed it on the table next to her.

Wine was brought to them. On the house.

‘You must know the proprietor very well,’ she murmured, ‘if free wine is part of the deal when you come here.’

‘He would throw in free food as well.’ Alessandro sat back and looked at her with lazy consideration. ‘But I always insist on paying for what I eat.’

‘That’s very thoughtful of you.’

He laughed aloud and shot her an appreciative look. ‘You have a sense of humour! I never realized.’

Kate thought that that was borderline rude, but how could she object when she had been pretty outspoken in some of the things she had said to him?

‘Relax,’ he urged, gently removing the hand that she held over her wine glass and pouring her some wine. ‘We might be here to work, but you’re not in the office now.’

And that, she thought, was the problem—because when she was in the office, surrounded by computers and filing cabinets and desks, and the constant buzz of ringing phones, she could be a cool, controlled professional. Whereas here...

The place was popular. Nearly every table was occupied, and the bar area was crowded with men in suits and women in sharp summer outfits and high heels.

‘Why do you work so much overtime?’

Kate frowned and played with her wine glass before taking a sip. What sort of a question is that? she wanted to ask. He owned the company. Surely he should be congratulating her on her dedication to her job instead of asking her why she worked so hard?

‘I thought that was the way to get ahead,’ she said neutrally. ‘But I might be mistaken.’

Alessandro grinned, enjoying her understated dry sense of humour.

‘I mean,’ Kate continued, warming to her theme because somehow, somewhere in his remark, there had been just the faintest hint of criticism. ‘You did express some disappointment that the entire floor was empty when you came to drop those files off for George...’

‘Quite true.’

‘So why are you criticizing me because I happen to do a bit of overtime now and again?’

‘I got the impression that it was more the rule than the exception. And I’m not criticizing you.’

‘It sounds as though you are.’ She could feel those dark eyes boring into her and had to restrain herself from squirming.

He was her boss. Actually, he was the lord of all he surveyed, and it was in her interests to remain as polite and detached as possible. Never mind all that tosh about his hundred-thousand-strong family of employees...he could ruin her career with the snap of his fingers. As he would doubtless ruin George Cape’s career.

She bristled with anger, stole a resentful glance at his lean, beautiful face, and wondered what it would feel like to have those sensuous lips on hers.

She didn’t even know where that errant thought had come from, but it was so vivid that her whole body responded. Her breasts ached, and between her legs...she was horrified to realize that she was dampening.

‘I’m ambitious,’ she told him heatedly, ‘and there’s nothing wrong with that. I work hard because I hope that my hard work will pay off, that I’ll be promoted... I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth and I’ve had to fight for every single thing I’ve got.’

It was more than she should have said, although not a word of it was untrue. It just felt weird—wrong—to be confiding in him. And why was she anyway? She wasn’t here for an interview and he hadn’t demanded that she explain herself.

Usually so reticent, she had been propelled into speaking her mind. She licked her lips nervously, realized that she was sitting forward, fists clenched on the table, and deliberately made herself relax and smile.

‘You’re implying that your colleagues come from a more privileged background than you?’

‘I’m not implying anything. I was just...stating a fact.’

Alessandro noted the pink in her cheeks. Up close and personal with her—which he had never been before—he sensed that her reactions were honest. She blushed when he wouldn’t have expected her to, because the impression she gave was one of complete self-control. He could remember asking her questions about certain technicalities in the jobs she had worked on and she had been cool, calm and knowledgeable, barely displaying any kind of personality at all.

But then...

He glanced briefly around him. This wasn’t a cold, clinical office, was it? The neat little folder she had pointedly stuck on the table next to her was the only evidence that this was a work meeting. And without the backup of an office he had a tantalizing glimpse of the person behind the beautiful but bland exterior.

Did he want to bring the conversation back to work? Not yet.

‘Maybe you think that I do...?’ he murmured in a lazy drawl.

‘I haven’t given that any thought at all,’ Kate lied. ‘I’m here to do a job, not to pry into other people’s lives.’

‘Your days must be very dull, in that case.’

‘Why? Why do you say that?’

‘Because it’s commendable to work hard, and to do a good job, but doesn’t everyone get a little titillation from office politics? The salacious gossip? The speculating...?’

‘Not me.’

Her voice was firm but her nerves were all over the place. She picked up the menu and stared at it but she could still feel his eyes on her.

‘I think I might have the fish.’

Alessandro didn’t bother to glance at the menu. He responded by keeping his eyes firmly fixed on her face while he beckoned with a slight raising of his hand and was rewarded when someone sprang to attention and hustled over.

How did he do that? Was there some poor sap hovering in the corner somewhere, waiting until the Mighty One beckoned him across?

Of course there would be. Money talked, and Alessandro Preda had a lot of it. Vast amounts.

People changed when they were around money. Common sense flew through the window. Subservience, slavishness and an awestruck inability to just act normally set in.

So she might feel something—a little insignificant twinge of awareness about the man—but that was natural. He was drop-dead gorgeous, especially when she was receiving the full, undiluted blast of his forceful personality. But she wasn’t and never would be one of those simpering airheads who turned to mush around him. And actually not just airheads. Lots of clever women—definitely two in the legal department—giggled at the mention of his name and projected crazy fantasies about him over lunch in the office restaurant. Several times Kate had had to stop her eyes from rolling skywards.

Her body might be a little rebellious, but thankfully she had her head firmly screwed on.

She politely waited as he ordered, said no to a top-up of wine, and then relented because at least it made her relax.

‘So, about George...’ She flicked open the file and felt the weight of his hand over hers.

‘In good time.’

‘Sorry. I thought you might have finished relaxing.’ Her heart was thumping so hard that she wondered if she might be having a mild panic attack. Or, worse, turning into one of those simpering airheads. Or even worse than that, one of those clever women whose brains went missing in action the second he came too close.

‘Only just beginning.’

He dealt her a slashing smile that did nothing to steady her disobedient body and she pursed her lips in response.

‘Perhaps I should have taken more of an interest in your career before...considering you’re one of my rising stars...’

‘I didn’t think you got involved in doing appraisals on anybody in your company,’ Kate responded politely. Boss/employee, she reminded herself. The boss got to ask all the questions and the employee got to ask none whatsoever.

‘True,’ Alessandro conceded.

He didn’t look at the waiter as he placed their food in front of them and then did some annoying perfect positioning of their plates. All he wanted the man to do was disappear. Because he was pleasantly invigorated and didn’t want to lose the moment. They were few and far between as it was.

‘I like to think that’s what my human resources people are all about. Although, in fairness, they probably work to rule like the rest of the occupants of your floor.’

‘Everyone works overtime in the winter months. It’s just that it’s summer and it’s baking hot outside—I guess they want to leave on time and enjoy the sunshine.’

‘But not you?’ Alessandro pointed out. ‘Nothing urgent out of hours waiting for you?’

‘I don’t think what I do outside work is actually any of your business—and I apologize right now if you think I’m being rude when I say that.’

‘No need for apologies. I just want to make sure. Do you feel the need to live in the office in order to get on?’

‘I...’

She tried to imagine living a life in which that mythical other half was right now whipping up something in the kitchen for her, anxiously consulting his watch if she was running late. She would have to do something about that—turn the passing thought into reality. She didn’t miss having a guy in her life now, but she would eventually. She wasn’t meant to be an island, and if she wasn’t careful she would wake up one day and find herself alone because she had sacrificed everything to her quest for security.

‘Tell me what you’re thinking.’

‘Huh?’

‘You’re a million miles away,’ Alessandro drawled drily. ‘Simple question, really. I didn’t think it would have required that much deep thought.’

‘I...’

For a few seconds she nearly told him just how much deep thought that ‘simple question’ required. More than he could ever imagine because—like it or not—this man who saw his vast empire as a family affair was a man who came from money. How could he ever understand the drive inside her to fill all the gaps her upbringing had left?

‘Sorry... No. Of course I know that there’s no need for me to work long hours to get on—although, in fairness, I probably work fewer hours in winter than my colleagues.’

‘Ah, yes. Because you’re a creature of the night?’

And just like that Kate thought of her mother, of those jobs in dark bars earning money from tips, dancing and showing herself off in whatever nonsense she was told to put on. A creature of the night doing night-time jobs. Nothing like her.

‘Don’t you ever say that to me!’ she blurted out before she could stop herself. She was shaking with anger and stuck her hands under the table on her lap so that he couldn’t see that they were shaking.

‘Say what?’ Alessandro asked slowly, his sharp eyes narrowed on her flushed face. ‘Did I say something wrong?’ He frowned and saw her make a visible effort to gather herself. ‘Tell me what the problem is.’

‘There isn’t a problem. I’m sorry. I overreacted.’

‘Firstly, stop apologizing for everything you say that you think might offend me. I don’t take offence easily. And secondly...there is a problem. You went as white as a sheet and now you’re shaking like a leaf. What provoked that sudden bout of outrage?’

Curiosity dug deep. Underneath the calm surface, she was a hotbed of emotion and that intrigued him. He leaned forward, elbows on the table, crowding her.

‘You’re trying to think of a polite way of telling me that it’s none of my business, aren’t you?’

Kate shied away from his searching narrowed stare. She could feel the full force of his powerful personality like something raw and physical and it appalled and mesmerized her at the same time. This was evidence of the driving tenacity that had propelled him into the stratosphere of wealth and power and it went far, far beyond his formidable intelligence and his ambition.

She averted her face, her heart beating wildly. ‘My mother worked in a cocktail bar,’ she said flatly.

Why had she just come out with that? She never, ever went there with other people. Her past was a closed book to prying eyes.

‘Amongst other things. I have no idea why I’m telling you this.’ She looked at him accusingly from under lowered lashes. ‘I don’t usually confide in other people. I’m not usually a confiding kind of person. I know you think I’m strange, working long hours, but...’

‘But you crave financial security?’

‘Crave is a strong word.’ She smiled tentatively. ‘But maybe it’s the right one.’

She felt a weird sense of release at unburdening herself. When she was growing up, those sensitive teenage years had been an agony of embarrassment. She had made sure never to get too close to anyone. She hadn’t wanted them to find out that her mother worked as a cocktail waitress, brought men home who used her because of the way she looked, was a sad, desperate woman who knew only how to barter with her body to keep them going.

She’d loved her mother but she had been ashamed of her—and ashamed of being ashamed. And now here was her boss, Alessandro Preda, whose lifestyle repulsed her, who represented everything she found distasteful in a man, and the sympathy on his face was like a key unlocking her secrets. Stupid. Really stupid. And somehow dangerous...

‘My upbringing was...unsteady. Mum never seemed interested in holding down a normal office job. I can only remember her going out at night, leaving me with some friend or other when I was young, and then the minute I hit twelve I was on my own. I loved my mother...I love my mother...but I hated the way she earned a living. I hated thinking of her in stupid skimpy clothes, with men staring and trying to paw her. And she was always falling in love—always thinking that Mr Right was the next handsome guy who paid her some attention and told her she was beautiful.’

‘So when I called you a creature of the night...’

‘I’m sorry.’ Mortified, Kate stared at her empty wine glass and watched as he poured her some more wine. She hadn’t planned on drinking anything at all. Now she wondered how much she had inadvertently downed. Maybe the alcohol had loosened her tongue? She didn’t feel in the least bit tipsy, but why else would she have suddenly turned into a blabbering mess?

‘What did I tell you about apologizing?’

‘I work for you...’

‘Which doesn’t turn you into one of my subjects. Like I said, I have yet to attain royal status,’ Alessandro drawled. ‘Where does your mother live now?’

‘Cornwall.’ Kate shot him a quick glance and looked away just as fast.

He was just so sinfully good-looking! It shouldn’t do anything for her, because she was the last person on the planet to judge a guy by the way he looked, but her tummy was in knots and she had to force herself not to stare at that dark, brooding, interested face. She almost had the feeling that, given half a chance, he would be able to reach into her head and pull out her deepest, darkest thoughts.

‘She...she married twice. Her second husband, Greg, gave her sufficient money in their divorce for her to buy somewhere small, and she wanted to be by the sea.’

‘And your father?’

‘I had no idea I would be subjected to a question-and-answer session...’ But she had initiated this whole conversation, and there was a weary acceptance of that in her voice.

Alessandro had never had the slightest curiosity about the back stories of his women. He was curious now.

‘My father left soon after I was born. He was my mother’s first love and her only love—so she tells me.’ She cleared her throat and searched for the brisk, businesslike voice that was so much part and parcel of her persona. Sadly it was nowhere to be found. Just when she really felt she needed it. ‘I think she’s been trying ever since to replace him.’

‘And now?’

‘And now what?’

‘There’s someone in her life?’

Kate smiled and Alessandro felt the breath catch in his throat—a sudden, sharp, shocking reaction that came from nowhere. The woman was beautiful. Did she deliberately downplay that? This was a Pandora’s box. She worked for him, and they were here to discuss the future of an employee. Serious stuff. But for the life of him he didn’t want to let the conversation go.

‘I’m proud to announce that my mother has been a man-free zone for three years. I feel she might be cured of her addiction to looking for love in all the wrong places.’

‘And what about you?’ Alessandro murmured huskily. ‘Are you a man-free zone at the moment?’

His thoughts veered wildly into uncharted territory. He pictured her with a man. He pictured her with him. The face she chose to show the world was not the sum total of the person she was. In fact, scratch the surface and the cool, marble exterior gave way to swirling, unpredictable currents.

He had a driving, crazy urge to test those waters.

He had his own reasons, he knew, for the choices he had made and continued to make. His own parents and their all-consuming love had left little room for a kid and no room at all for common sense. Theirs had been a world with room only for each other, and their ridiculous choices had seen their joint family fortunes whittled away into nothing thanks to rash decisions, stupid blunders, irrational money-making ventures.

Control? They had had none of that. He did. He controlled every aspect of his life, including his love life, but suddenly all those beautiful, vapid, utterly controllable women who had cluttered his life seemed like safe, dreary options.

Insane. He had never mixed business with pleasure. Never. This woman was off limits.

But she had kick-started his libido and he felt the thrust of a powerful erection pressing against the zipper of his trousers, bulging and uncomfortable.

Kate detected something in his voice that sent the thrill of a shiver racing through her and desperately tried to squelch it.

How the heck had this happened? How had the conversation swerved from George and his misdeeds to questions about her private life? What on earth had possessed her to start sharing her life story like an idiot?

‘I’ve been very busy getting my career up and going,’ she said briskly. ‘I haven’t had time to cultivate relationships.’

‘All work and no play...’ Alessandro murmured. ‘Personally, I’ve always found that a little bit of play makes the work go a helluva lot faster.’

‘That approach doesn’t work for me. It never has.’ She winced at the tenor of her voice—cold, prim, defensive. ‘And now I think we ought to get the bill. I...it’s later than I expected... I don’t think it would be fair on George if we shoved our discussion of his plight into a few minutes tacked on to the end of a meal. I realize you’ve written him off as a master criminal, but I feel he deserves better than that.’

She automatically felt for the bun at the back of her head. Still firmly in place. Unlike the rest of her.

Alessandro mentally waved aside the topic of hapless George and his unfortunate wrongdoings. Tomorrow was another day. He would deal with that later. They would deal with that later. Right now...

‘What approach doesn’t work for you?’

Kate pretended to misunderstand his question.

‘Ah. You’ve decided to retreat behind your professional mask. Why?’

‘Because we didn’t come here to talk about me. We came to talk about George.’

‘But we didn’t,’ Alessandro pointed out with remorseless logic. ‘We didn’t end up talking about George, as it happens.’

‘And that was a mistake.’ She breathed a silent sigh of relief as the bill was brought to them, and then breathed an even bigger sigh of relief when the proprietor approached and began enthusiastically quizzing them on what they thought of their meal, his sharp black eyes dancing between the two of them.

So she hadn’t answered his question. And he wasn’t sure why he wanted to find out anyway. But he did. What was it they said about wanting what you couldn’t get?

He watched as she rose, terminating all personal conversation.

‘I shall get a taxi home,’ she told him firmly.

He ignored her. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’

He ushered her out into a much cooler evening—suitable weather finally for her starchy suit and jacket. He made a call on his cell phone and his car, complete with driver, appeared from nowhere. It pulled over and he opened the passenger door for her. When she was inside, he leant down so that he was looking at her on eye level.

‘You’ll be happy to know that you’ll be spared my company.’

He grinned, and she had one of those intuitive moments of knowing that he knew exactly what had been going through her head.

‘I’ll get Jackson to drop you home and we can pick up where we left off at a later date.’

‘What later date?’ She worried at her lower lip. If she could stick a few definite meetings in her work diary then she would be able to get a handle on seeing him again. And over her dead body if it was going to be in another cosy little restaurant.

‘I’ll get back to you on that one.’

‘But don’t you want to get this mess sorted out as quickly as possible?’

‘You can keep an eye on all the business accounts for suspicious activity, but if there’s none then why not let George enjoy his last supper, so to speak?’ He stood up, slapped the hood of the sleek, black Maserati, and remained watching as it disappeared from view.

He hadn’t felt so invigorated for a long time.

And what, he wondered, was a guy to do about that?


CHAPTER THREE (#u29a44239-142c-584d-bdfb-84b94218c41c)

FOR THE PAST few years Kate had seen her place of work as a refuge. There, she had felt in charge of her life, had worked hard at putting together all the building blocks that gave it definition and purpose.

Now she felt jumpy. On tenterhooks. Always on the lookout for Alessandro who, for the past couple of days, had often appeared to talk to her. About a client with a thorny tax problem, two overseas companies whose vast returns had generated questions about splitting them into smaller fragments, an acquisition that would mark a significant branching out from electronics, shipping and the leisure industry into publications...

‘Cape would normally handle this, but seeing that he’s on an extended holiday abroad, and seeing that that extended holiday is likely to become permanent, you’d better start getting acquainted with some of his responsibilities...’

This at five-thirty earlier today, when most of her colleagues had mentally switched off in preparation for leaving and had been all agog at the appearance of the big man.

She had kept as cool and collected as she could but her nerves had been all over the place. Surely the head of finance should be handling this situation? she had ventured, watching askance as he had perched on the side of her desk and then dragging her eyes away from his muscular thighs and the way the fine fabric of his trousers was stretched taut over them. But, no. Watson Russell was swamped by several huge ongoing deals—and besides, these matters would qualify as fairly small peanuts for him.

Afterwards, some of the girls had hovered, waiting for her to emerge from her office, and had proceeded to ply her with questions. None of the questions had had anything to do with work. They had wanted her opinion of him. As a hunk. Kate had made it a point never to engage in conversations like that, but she had been pinned to the wall and had found herself admitting that he was all right but not her type.

So how come he’s been around so much...is something going on...?

Argh! She had become just the sort of giggly, girly type she had never been, and it had left her all hot and bothered.

And he still hadn’t committed to a meeting so that he could look through what she had found out—which, as it turned out, was not very much at all. George had been dipping his hands in the till, but it hadn’t been going on for very long and the amounts, in the big scheme of things, weren’t that significant.

She would talk to Alessandro about that—try and find some compassion in him for the older man—but she didn’t hold out much hope.

Now, at home far earlier than she normally would have been, on yet another hot summer evening, Kate looked at her work computer with jaundiced eyes.

It wasn’t yet six and she couldn’t face sitting in front of her computer and picking up where she had left off during the day.

Wandering through her very nice little ground-floor flat, she had plenty of time to think about the social life she lacked.

The back door was flung open and she could smell the neighbours barbecuing. Aside from the pleasant couple with two kids living next to her, she had no idea who her neighbours were.

At work, having almost given up on asking her, two of her colleagues had invited her to go to the pub with them and she had felt a little surge of panic because...

Because her whole life was devoted to work.

How had that happened? Okay, she knew how, and she knew why, she just didn’t understand how it had all run away with her so that she had lost all her perspective.

Not only was her social life practically non-existent, but where was the guy she should be dating? Where was the exciting sex life she should be having?

She had had one boyfriend, three years previously, and he had fallen off the face of the earth because he had wanted more attention than she had been prepared to give. He hadn’t understood that she had been taking professional exams and had had to study when she wasn’t holding down the demanding job at the accountancy firm she had left as soon as she had qualified.

At the time she had been miffed—because how hard would it have been for him to just give her some breathing space? Surely it had been enough that they’d had fun on the weekends? But he had wanted more than just fun on the weekends.

So now here she was—alone. She wouldn’t have wanted to be with Sam still. No, in retrospect, he hadn’t been the man for her, even though he had ticked a lot of the right boxes. But shouldn’t she have moved on? Be having a good time finding his replacement? Somewhere?

She lived in London, for heaven’s sake!

Frustrated with the direction of her thoughts, she slammed shut the French doors at the back so that she couldn’t be reminded of what she was missing by the smell of barbecue wafting into her house.

Then she had a shower.

Then, in a pair of tiny shorts and a cropped top, she prepared to wait out the annoying train of thoughts that were suddenly bothering her.

For which she blamed her wretched boss, who had somehow managed to get under her skin, to make her feel somehow inadequate...

And as soon as she started thinking about Alessandro she found that she couldn’t stop.

He was just so alive and vital and brimming over with restless energy. Next to him, she felt like a pale, listless shadow, going through the motions of having a fulfilling life when she wasn’t.

Absorbed in pointless speculation, she was only aware of the doorbell when it was depressed with such insistency that she was forced to dash and pull open the door or else risk her neighbours complaining about noise pollution.

Alessandro Preda was the last person she’d expected to see standing on her doorstep. In fact she blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision and turn him into someone else. But, no, he was still there. Tall, dynamic, broad-shouldered, and way too exotically good-looking for London suburbia.

He didn’t say a word. Just looked at her. He had obviously come straight from work because he was still in his work trousers—charcoal grey, super conventional, and yet on him somehow not quite. But there was no jacket, and he had shoved the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, revealing muscled forearms liberally sprinkled with dark hair.

She seemed to have forgotten how to speak.

‘Are you going to ask me in?’

Alessandro eventually broke the silence. It took some effort. He had wanted to catch her by surprise, had been driven by sheer curiosity to see her somewhere—anywhere—that wasn’t to do with the office.

But he hadn’t expected this.

This wasn’t the starchy woman who occupied her own office three floors down in his building. Removed from the files, the computers, the telephones and the uninspiring range of suits in various shades of grey, this was a different woman altogether.

This was the woman he had glimpsed at the restaurant.

She was in a pair of shorts and a small top, and her hair was long and tied back in a ponytail that swung down her back.

Where had that body come from? She was long and slender, her stomach flat, her breasts...

He broke out in a fine film of perspiration. It was the sort of reaction he never experienced, and his awareness of her, his physical awareness of her, was intense, immediate—a rush of blood invading his body in a tidal surge.

She wasn’t wearing a bra.

‘What are you doing here?’

It was a breathless, angry question. She could barely deal with him at the office—was at war with herself and her puzzling reaction to him. How dared he now take himself out of that environment, which didn’t even feel safe any more, and superimpose himself here? On her doorstep? In her apartment?

Suddenly excruciatingly aware of just how much of her body was exposed, she hugged her arms around herself and remained rooted to the spot. She hadn’t shut the door in his face, but she wasn’t inviting him in either.

‘I’ve been busy this week,’ Alessandro imparted roughly, raking fingers through his dark hair and staring away to one side while he tried to do the unimaginable and compose himself. ‘I had every intention of going through this business with you, but I haven’t had time. Like you said, Cape deserves more than five minutes of my attention when I can grab a moment.’

‘You managed to grab lots of moments when you were in my office—piling work on me before George has even been given a decent burial...’

‘Hell, why do you have to be so dramatic? And are you going to ask me in? Or am I going to have to stand outside and have this conversation with you? The neighbours might begin to wonder what’s going on.’

Kate spun round on her heels, agonisingly conscious of her small shorts. She realized in a flash how important her formal work attire was. All those bland, off-the-peg suits in drab colours had been her way of keeping the rest of the world at bay. Even at the restaurant with him, when she had dropped her mask and actually spoken her mind, that suit of hers had still been a reminder of their respective roles.

But shorts and a cropped top? Since when could anyone call that armour?

Alessandro watched her extremely pert bottom as she stalked away from him. His erection was so ramrod hard that it was painful—and more than likely visible.

He wanted to ask her whether she made it a habit to open the door to anybody who might ring the bell dressed in next to nothing, because this wasn’t Cornwall. He shoved both hands into his trouser pockets in an attempt to do some damage limitation with the serious bulge of his arousal.

‘I’m going to change,’ she told him ungraciously as she stood aside and indicated that he could wait for her in the kitchen. ‘I’m sorry, Alessandro. I realize that you’re the boss, and you probably think that you can do whatever you please, but I really don’t think it’s on for you to just call by unannounced.’

Her arms were still folded as she swung to look at him. Her heart picked up pace as their eyes tangled and held. Her skin felt too tight for her body. His eyes on her made her nipples tingle, made her want to rub her legs together to ease the ache between them.

‘Why?’

He was now sitting at the kitchen table. Thank God. What the hell was going on here? He’d had his fill of stunning women, and none had had such an instantaneous effect on his libido. Was it because of the dichotomy between the consummate professional and the rangy, leggy, sexy woman she was under the uniform she chose to wear? Maybe it had been too long since he had had sex... He was a man with a high sex drive, and using his hand to do the job was far from satisfactory, given the choice of a woman’s mouth doing the job for him.

He thought of Kate’s mouth there, her pink tongue delicately flicking over his arousal, and he sucked in a sharp breath.

‘Yes...’ He cleared his throat. ‘Go and change if it would make you feel better to slip into your suit because I’m here and you find it impossible to be anything in my company aside from an employee.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Kate enquired tightly.

Alessandro sighed and sat back. ‘It doesn’t mean anything, Kate.’

It means you should leave now and return decently clothed. Sackcloth might do the trick.

‘And you’re right. I had no business showing up here on your doorstep without calling you in advance.’

‘How did you know where I lived anyway?’

‘Jackson was kind enough to provide me with the information.’

‘And that’s another thing,’ she retorted, bristling as she thought back to her colleagues at work and their reactions to Alessandro descending from Mount Olympus to grace them with his presence. ‘People have been talking...’

She reddened, but now that it was out what choice did she have but to stand her ground and say what was on her mind? Besides, he was in her territory now. If she couldn’t speak freely in her own house, then where could she? He might be the ruler of all he surveyed in his towering glass house in the City, but he wasn’t out here.

She quailed. Did he have to look so...so ruler-like even when he wasn’t in his domain? She wished he would just look a little more normal, a little less...intimidating. Or sexy. Take your pick.

She suddenly felt her youth, her lack of experience.

‘Talking?’ Alessandro tilted his head to one side and looked at her intently. ‘Talking about what? And who are these “people” who have been talking?’

‘I maybe shouldn’t have brought this up...’ she began, chickening out.

‘But you did, and now that you have you might as well finish. And for God’s sake don’t launch into any full-blown apologies when you’ve said what you want to say.’

‘You seldom come down to our floor. In fact, I can only think of one time when you actually came to see me in my office, and George was there as well. Suddenly you’ve been appearing out of the blue and people...well, people have been wondering what’s going on. They think... I don’t know what they think... But I don’t want them to think it. Whatever it is.’

‘So these people think something...you’re not sure what...and you don’t want them to think it...?’

‘I’m a very private person. Always have been.’

Except for one night in a restaurant, when I spilled my guts about my background to you...

‘I’m at a loss as to what I can do to resolve this issue...’

He spread his arms wide in a typical gesture that was at once rueful and ridiculously phoney, because there was just a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth that made her feel like an idiot. His brows knitted in a frown which was also phoney.

‘I guess you must think that Jackson thinks something too...although who knows for sure...?’

‘It’s all well and good for you to sit there sniggering, but I’m the one who has to live with other people’s stupid speculations!’

‘That’s office life for you. Maybe you should climb out of your ivory tower and experience it. And don’t worry about Jackson, by the way. Whatever he might think, or not think, he’ll keep it to himself.’

Kate gritted her teeth together and remembered diplomacy. He was rich, and immune to the opinions of other people. Not that there would be many people willing to shoot their mouths off at him. The man was unbearably arrogant in his self-confidence. And he talked about her living in an ivory tower!

‘Maybe I should,’ she said, with a tight, forced smile.

‘You look as though you’ve swallowed a lime.’ Alessandro grinned. He hadn’t noticed her freckles before, or the fact that her dark hair was more chestnut than brown, and golden at the ends.

‘I’m going to change. If you want something to drink there’s an opened bottle of wine in the fridge, or you can make yourself tea or coffee. It’s not a big kitchen. I’m sure you’ll be able to find what you need.’

With that she swung round and headed to her bedroom, fuming at the way he had invaded her privacy, fuming at the way he saw fit to say exactly what happened to be on his mind, fuming at her evening, which she had had neatly planned and which would now be spent in a state of edge-of-the-seat nervous tension.

She got to her bedroom and gazed at her mutinous reflection in the mirror. Her colour was up. Her hair was not in the neat little bun he was accustomed to seeing. The ponytail was coming undone and wisps of long brown hair trailed around her face. Which was completely bare of make-up...

She peered at the freckles which had always made her look so young.

Freckles, dishevelled hair, a pair of shorts that she would never in a million years have worn had she known that he—or anyone else, for that matter—would be turning up on her doorstep, and a small stretch top with no bra. The top might be navy blue, but she had generous breasts and it was perfectly obvious that they were not constrained.

If she half squinted and stood back just a tiny bit...well, she might pass muster as one of those cocktail waitresses she scorned. Small clothes, busty, legs everywhere, hair everywhere...

In the rational part of her mind Kate knew that it was just her imagination playing tricks on her. She wasn’t dressed any differently from any young woman hanging around in her own home on a balmy summer evening.

But this was her tender spot—the place where her imagination took flight. She was ultrasensitive to any suggestion that she and her mother had anything in common when it came to the way they saw themselves and their bodies. Her mother had always been a benchmark as to how she, Kate, would never conduct herself.

She closed her eyes, breathed deeply, and hurriedly removed the offending attire, replacing the shorts and cropped top with a pair of jeans and a very sensible baggy tee shirt which revealed nothing but a faded logo on the front. She neatened up the ponytail, but drew the line at turning it into a bun.

When she made it back to the kitchen it was to find Alessandro well ensconced at her kitchen table, a glass of wine next to him, long legs extended to one side, relaxing back with his hands folded behind his head.

‘I like your place.’ He watched as she hovered for a few seconds by the kitchen door, the very picture of the disgruntled and reluctant host. ‘Cool, airy, light colours... And nice that it’s not in a big, impersonal block of flats as well. I take it there’s just the one other flat above you...?’

‘You’ve been poking around...’ she said, eyes narrowed.

‘You disappeared to change your clothes. What else was I supposed to do?’

‘You were supposed to make yourself a cup of tea and stay put.’

‘Wine seemed a better alternative. I try and avoid caffeine after six. You look nothing like her, you know.’

Kate stiffened. She took a couple of steps into the kitchen with about the same enthusiasm as someone entering a lion’s den. This was her house and her kitchen, and yet he seemed to dominate it with his presence, making her feel as if she needed to ask permission to open the fridge.

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ She helped herself to a glass of wine and took up position at the opposite end of the table. ‘And I would rather not get into any of that.’

‘Any of what? If you don’t know what I’m talking about?’

He slung his long body out of the chair and headed to the fridge, opened the door and peered inside.

‘I see you’re a very healthy eater,’ he said conversationally, helping himself to the bottle of wine and bringing it back to the table, where he proceeded to pour himself another glass. ‘Although the box of chocolates is a giveaway of a more...decadent nature...’

‘If you give me five minutes, I’ll go and fetch the file on George.’

‘But returning to what I said...’ This time his dark eyes were thoughtful, serious. ‘And that remark you so adroitly tried to avoid. You’re nothing like your mother. I looked at some of the pictures you have framed in your sitting room...’

‘You shouldn’t have come here and you shouldn’t have nosed around...’ For a few appalling seconds, Kate felt as though her little world was in the process of being tilted on its axis. ‘I should never have told you any of that stuff.’

‘Why? Is there something wrong with confiding in other people?’

‘Do you?’ She turned the question right back at him. ‘Do you run around spilling your guts to all and sundry? What about all those models you go out with? Do you get deep and personal with them? Do you hold hands and sob over a bottle of wine while you pour your soul out?’

This was what it felt like to lose control. She had always had control, and now here she was, sitting at her own kitchen table, losing it with a guy who had the power to terminate the career she had so carefully built.

And the worst of it was that she didn’t want to retract the accusation.

She was aware of him with every pore of her being. He swamped her. When she breathed she felt that she was breathing in his clean, masculine scent. When she leaned forward she could feel his personality wrap around her like tendrils of ivy.

She felt...alive.

But not, she told herself uneasily, in a good way. There was nothing about Alessandro Preda that could make her feel anything in a good way. She felt alive in a very, very annoying way.

‘At least you’re not apologizing for asking that daring question,’ Alessandro drawled.

So she had ditched the shorts and the cropped top, but the jeans and the baggy shirt did nothing to reduce her sex appeal. Now he had seen that body shorn of its camouflage outfits the image was imprinted in his brain with the force of a branding iron.

‘And you’re right. I don’t tend to do the personal touchy-feely business with the women I go out with. I can’t recall pouring my soul out and sobbing in recent times.’ His mouth twitched with amusement. ‘In that we’re strangely alike. But you wear your defence system on the outside. You cover up from neck to ankle but there’s no need. You’re not your mother. You may want to make sure you don’t follow in her footsteps, but you don’t have to dress like a spinster schoolteacher to do that.’

‘How dare you come here and try and analyze me?’ Tears stung the back of her throat but thankfully she was far too reticent a person to allow them access.

‘I’m not trying to analyze you,’ Alessandro told her in just the sort of gentle voice that she knew might prove her undoing if she let it. ‘Don’t you feel a little trapped by all the hoops you make yourself jump through?

‘I don’t feel trapped by anything. This is the life I’ve chosen to lead. You have no idea what it’s like to be...insecure when you’re growing up...’

‘How do you know that?’ Alessandro asked softly.

Her eyes widened. She paused for thought. How did she know that? Because of who he was? Rich. Powerful. Confident. Arrogant. Those were not the hallmarks of someone whose upbringing had been anything but exemplary. Besides, he was the sole issue of the union of two wealthy families. If you looked him up on the internet—which she never had—you would discover that. She had overhead one of the giggly girls from the legal department imparting that titbit one day in the office restaurant. He occupied a stratosphere that was quite unlike hers. Actually, quite unlike most peoples.

‘But you were right when you said that we’re here to talk about Cape.’

For a minute there Alessandro had felt the pull to trade one set of confidences for another. He didn’t know where that had come from, but it wasn’t something he was going to give in to. Probably hearing her talk about her mother had naturally led him to think about his own parents. They too lived on the coast—probably not a million miles away from her mother. Small world...

‘Of course. I’ll just go and fetch the file I’ve compiled. I’ve summarized all my findings. I thought it might be easier for you to go through rather than follow the trail piecemeal.’

‘Highly efficient, and just what I would expect of you!’

Kate frowned, but before she could rise to the bait he interceded with a grin.

‘And, before you jump down my throat, I wasn’t being sarcastic...’

‘I wasn’t about to imply that you were.’ But she had been. And that made her feel a little uneasy. Either she was as transparent as a pane of glass, which was a bad thing, or else he could read her mind—which was a bad thing.

And what had he meant when he had hinted that it wasn’t true that he wouldn’t know what it might feel like to have an insecure background?

She felt her pulse race at the thought of him confiding in her and had to yank herself back to the reality that, when all was said and done, he was her boss and they had nothing in common.

Maybe he was right about that ivory tower, she thought feverishly as she fetched the file and headed back to the kitchen. Not as it applied to her in an office scenario but as it applied to her in a life scenario. Maybe she had lived life in the safe middle lane for too long. Maybe she had detached herself too much from the highs and lows of getting involved with people...with men. Maybe that was why she was behaving like this with him: disobeying common sense and flirting with something dangerous...

Flirting with an impossible attraction.

Shoot me in the head first, she thought.

But she had to take a deep, steadying breath before she pushed open the door and stepped inside where, thankfully, he was still in the same place and not snooping through the kitchen drawers and making himself even more at home.

‘Would you like some coffee?’ she asked politely, and Alessandro raised his eyebrows.

‘I don’t need sobering up,’ he told her drily. ‘So no, thank you. Besides, what did I tell you about caffeine after six?’

‘Yes, you did say that—but I do remember you helping yourself to several cups of strong black coffee a few months ago, when we were working with George and a couple of others on that deal late into the night...’

‘I didn’t realize that you had been keeping a watch on what I was eating and drinking...’

God, but she was sexy when she blushed like that and looked away, as though she was in danger of giving away state secrets if she met his eyes. He felt himself stir again, aroused by images that had no place in his head.

He waved his hand for her to hand over her findings and started reading. There wasn’t a great deal to get through—less than he had been expecting.

‘So all in all,’ he said slowly, raising his eyes to hers, ‘he hasn’t been at it for very long...’

‘Which I think is in his favour...’

‘We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one. The fact is that the man has stolen from me...’

‘He must have had a reason.’

‘Of course he must have had a reason. Greed. Possibly linked to a debt which had to be paid off. My money is on a gambling debt. Unless you’ve noticed anything out of the ordinary? Vodka bottles in his desk drawer, perhaps?’

‘I can’t imagine that George is a gambler,’ Kate persisted, thinking furiously, trying to remember if she had noticed anything unusual about his behaviour over the past six months and coming up with nothing. ‘And he certainly isn’t an alcoholic, if that’s what you’re implying!’

‘How would you know, unless you socialize with him out of work? On a regular basis?’

‘He’s a good guy.’

‘Who has just happened to steal over a hundred grand from me over a five-month period. His halo’s slipping slightly, wouldn’t you agree? Still, he will have the opportunity to explain his borderline saintly status to a court of impartial jurors, and you are more than welcome to sign on as a character witness.’

‘Sometimes—’ She swallowed back something she would instantly regret saying and took a deep breath. ‘Surely you could at least hear what he has to say before you condemn him and throw away the key...?’

Could he? Well, under any other circumstances there would be no question as to what course of action he would take. There could never be any excuse for fraud. Life was full of people forgiving the idiocy of other people, but in the end idiots deserved the punishment they got. The feckless deserved their fate.

He looked at that earnest face. That beautiful, earnest face. She should be as tough as nails—immune to feelings of empathy given her background. But she wasn’t.

She was complex, intriguing, quirky... And all of this despite the fact that she was so desperate to be just the opposite.

He liked that.

Was there anything wrong with that?

When it came to women he had always been able to have what he wanted. This woman introduced a challenge to his jaded appetite and what was wrong with that? What was wrong if he wanted to explore that just a little bit further?

‘I could...’ he admitted, watching her carefully. ‘Everyone has a story to tell...’

‘I know!’

She hazarded a smile, leaned forward.

‘You think I’m mad, but I just know that George isn’t a bad guy. He...he’s actually one of the kindest men I’ve met in my entire life! Although...’ She laughed, and the sound was light and infectious, ‘Compared to some of the guys I’ve had the misfortune to meet, thanks to my mother, that’s not hard! Not that any of them threatened me in any way,’ she added hurriedly, ‘but I certainly grew up having first-hand knowledge of how scummy guys can be...’

She smiled shyly at him, marvelling that underneath that forbidding exterior and arrogant self-assurance he might not be quite as unrelenting as she’d thought.

‘I’m really glad you’re prepared to at least listen to what he has to say.’

Alessandro made a non-committal sound under his breath and smiled at her lazily. ‘And wouldn’t it be so much fairer if I had this discussion with him face to face? Outside the office? After all, the last thing I want is for the world to see him being marched out in handcuffs...’

‘Absolutely,’ Kate agreed, delighted at his turnaround. ‘That sort of thing would just...destroy him...’

‘Which is why we are going to fly to Canada and confront him there. Find out just what the hell has been going on. Surprise him, so to speak. But it will be a far less unpleasant surprise than if I do it in the office, with all those curious eyes peering through the glass, people jumping to conclusions and gossiping...’

‘Sorry...we...?’

‘Of course!’

He smiled broadly at her while she stared back, her brain moving sluggishly to compute the message it was receiving.

‘You’re the one who has influenced me into a decision I would never have otherwise taken. It’s only right that you be there when the questions get asked...don’t you agree?’

‘Well...’

‘Congratulations on changing my mind! It’s a rare occurrence. I’ll get my secretary to book flights out first thing on Monday morning. I take it you have a current passport? Yes? Well, then...’ He looked at her with satisfaction. ‘That’s settled...’


CHAPTER FOUR (#u29a44239-142c-584d-bdfb-84b94218c41c)

ALESSANDRO WAS WAITING for her five days later at the first-class check-in desk at the airport.

Kate spotted him from a mile away. Not hard. He stood out even in a packed terminal, where people were either rushing around frantically or else standing in long queues with blank How much slower can this line move? stares.

He was frowning at his smartphone, scrolling through messages, leaning against the counter with a solitary, very expensive holdall on the ground next to him. The picture of understated elegance in cream trousers, a white shirt and a lightweight jacket which he had tossed on top of the holdall.

Having planned on arriving bang on time, if not early, Kate was unavoidably running late and she was hassled.

She thought her neatly pinned-back hair might be unravelling. and her suit and pumps felt stiff and uncomfortable—unsuitable for the heat here in London, never mind abroad. Lord only knew how they would fare on a long-haul flight, but she had been determined to dress appropriately because, crucially, this wasn’t a holiday.

She had allowed her rules to slip. She had found herself losing her self-control. It was going to be very important that she re-establish that self-control while she was in Toronto on this business trip.

Comfy trousers and a casual cotton jumper with loafers had thus been ruled out as suitable travel gear.

‘You’re late,’ were the first words Alessandro greeted her with as he snapped shut his phone and straightened.

‘Traffic. I’m sorry. It would have been quicker for me to have come by tube. But I’m here now, and I hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long.’ She managed to say all that in a cool, polite voice whilst not actually looking at him at all. ‘Have you checked in?’

‘I was waiting for you.’

‘Is that all the luggage you’ve brought?’ Kate asked incredulously.

Next to his holdall, her suitcase was the size of a small mountain—but they were going for a week, and she hadn’t quite known which clothes to take for which occasion. So she had packed to cover every eventuality.

They had found out where George was staying with his wife without actually contacting him for the information—because, as Alessandro had persisted in telling her, the element of surprise would afford him no time to start thinking up fancy stories to cover up what he had done.

Kate hadn’t said anything. Poor George. Little did he know what he was in for. Alessandro had assured her that he was prepared to listen, but was he prepared to absolve from blame and forgive?

In the world of Alessandro Preda there was no room for excuses or apologies. If you crossed him in any way retribution would be swift and unforgiving. She could only try and be the restraining hand on his arm, so to speak. It was a minor miracle that he was prepared to listen at all.

‘I’m a believer in travelling light,’ he said, checking in her suitcase and then taking his time to examine the picture in her passport, while Kate patiently waited for him to return it to her, teeth gritted. ‘I take it you’re not...?’

‘I wasn’t sure what to bring with me.’

‘So you decided to bring it all? Including the kitchen sink?’

She reddened and mumbled something about it being so much easier for guys, who could fling two things in an overnight bag and disappear abroad for a month.

She might have added that she could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times she had been abroad in her entire life. She wasn’t an expert when it came to working out what to pack. Aside from confronting George and ruining his holiday, they would be visiting a potential business opportunity on the outskirts of the city—killing two birds with one stone, so to speak, which was probably partly why Alessandro had chosen to make this trip in the first place.

So, yes, work clothes... But it wasn’t really feasible to wear suits in the evenings as well, was it?

Not that she planned on spending a single one of those evenings in his company. Not one. She intended to draw some very clear and definite lines. Between nine and five she would be his employee, and after five she would disappear and do her own thing.

So she had stuffed some casual wear in her case as well. Jeans and loose, baggy tops. The woman in the tiny shorts and cropped top with the ponytail was not going to make an appearance.

‘If I need more clothes,’ Alessandro was saying, leading her through customs, handling everything so efficiently that she barely noticed them heading towards the first-class lounge, ‘then I can always buy out there. I travel so much that I can be in and out of an airport a lot faster if I don’t have to check in any luggage.’

‘Hence the holdall?’

‘Hence the holdall. Usually I bring something a lot smaller when I’m going to Europe.’

‘I can’t imagine what could be smaller,’ Kate panted, walking fast to keep pace with him. ‘A wallet?’

Alessandro chuckled and shot her an appreciative look—which she missed because she was trying to remain composed whilst half running beside him, one hand holding her neat little bun in place, the other dragging a pull-along case which she had stuffed with all sorts of useful reading matter.

‘Occasionally,’ he drawled, slowing down and veering off to the left, ‘a wallet is all a man needs. It can hold a lot more than just banknotes and credit cards...’

‘Really? Like what?’ Kate retorted sarcastically, getting her breathing back and looking sideways at him. ‘A change of outfit? Spare jacket? Pair of shoes?’

He burst out laughing, stopping and looking down at her with an unreadable expression that left her feeling a little dizzy.

‘Where have you been hiding?’

‘Sorry?’ She stared back at him, confused.

‘This witty, funny woman with the sharp tongue... Where have you been stashing her away? If I’d known she existed I would have taken some time out to try and find her...under the desk, maybe...or behind the coatrack...or in the stationery cupboard...’

Kate couldn’t help herself. She blushed and smiled and looked away, and then caught his eyes again. And all the while she was doing that she could feel her heart pick up speed.

There was still laughter in his eyes as he continued to hold her gaze. ‘A wallet,’ he murmured, his dark eyes suddenly glinting with lazy devilry, ‘can hold something that’s even more vital than cash or credit cards...’

‘What?’

‘I’ll let you think about it...’ He grinned and began walking again, pushing open the glass doors that led to the first-class lounge.

Kate paused and took stock. This was amazing. Here, the hustle and bustle of the airport terminal gave way to...well, peace, quiet...glassy counters groaning under the weight of food...men and women on their computers, comfy chairs and sofas...

‘Wow.’

Accustomed to all of this, Alessandro took a few seconds to register her expression, and he felt a weirdly heady kick at having been the one to introduce her to the experience.

‘So this is how the other half live,’ she breathed, impressed to death. ‘Am I standing out like a sore thumb?’

She looked at him anxiously and he smiled.

‘I don’t think there’s a dress code in operation here,’ he told her gently, guiding her forward and flicking their first-class passes to the well-groomed woman behind the polished curved counter.

Actually, there was. The dress code was expensive. He felt a sudden surge of protectiveness, which he dismissed as the normal reaction of a boss looking out for his employee. Having her insulted, stared at or criticized in any way was something he would not tolerate.

He ushered her to a long, low sofa, settled her down. When he asked her what she would like to drink he was amused to see her spring to her feet, eyes bright.

‘I should do the honours,’ she told him seriously. ‘You are my boss, after all...’

‘Of course,’ Alessandro murmured. ‘What was I thinking?’

So she didn’t blend in? He was suddenly contemptuous of all those unspoken rules the seriously wealthy played by. A rich diet of supermodels had blinded him to the realities that everyone else lived with. And, of all people, shouldn’t he know that the wealthy had their failings? Didn’t always conform?

He frowned, distracted by the rare intrusion of introspection. He came from wealth—had known first-hand its ups and downs, had experienced the frailty of what could be so easily taken for granted. He was secure in his own personal fortune—had made sure of that—but it struck him that he no longer looked outside the box at lifestyles that weren’t rich and privileged.

He was accustomed to his rare stratosphere because it was the one everyone he knew inhabited—including the women he dated. Although it had to be said that their passports came via their incredible looks.

She returned five minutes later with two plates heaped with various titbits, from little dainty sandwiches to cream cakes and packets of biscuits.

‘I’ve gone a little mad,’ she confessed. ‘I know it’s not cool to take a bit of everything that’s there, but I couldn’t resist.’

‘You don’t have to justify yourself to me, Kate. Take whatever you want. That’s what it’s there for. I’d bet that half the people here would love to do the same, but some warped sense of wanting to blend in and look cool stops them.’

Kate breathed a sigh of relief. ‘I’m ravenous, anyway.’

‘We could have a full breakfast if you’d rather?’

‘You’re kidding?’

‘Perfectly serious. Airlines command fat fares for first-class travellers. Frankly, hot food in their lounges is the very least one can expect.’

‘I’m fine.’ She reminded herself that she wasn’t there to have fun. Work was what was on the agenda—and not of a very pleasant nature either. ‘But thank you for the offer.’

She tucked in as delicately as possible whilst noticing that he ate next to nothing.

‘You can work if you want to,’ she contributed awkwardly. ‘You don’t have to feel that I need entertaining.’

‘I don’t.’

She reluctantly looked at the little pile of uneaten sandwiches on her plate. ‘How do you intend to...to confront George? Have you given it much thought? I know you have all the evidence compiled, but are you just going to present him with it in front of his wife?’

‘Haven’t thought that far ahead.’

‘I’d hate him to think that I might have been the one to instigate this whole sorry business,’ she admitted. ‘Although if I show up at your side I guess that’s the first thing he’ll think.’

‘Why does it matter?’ Alessandro dismissed her concern with a careless shrug. ‘So he gets the boot and puts it down to you? What’s the big deal?’

‘The “big deal” is that some of us actually care what other people think of them.’

‘Why? Will you ever see him again? His family?’

‘That’s not the point.’ She looked at him curiously. ‘How can you be so...so cold and detached?’

And he was. Despite the fact that he socialized heavily, dated women by the bucketload if office gossip and the daily tabloids were anything to go by, there was something about Alessandro Preda that remained remote and untouchable.

She shivered. Was that all part and parcel of his incredible appeal?

In the City he was feared as a ruthless competitor. Men and women alike were awed by him. Even here, as she surreptitiously slid her eyes to the side, she could see the way people checked him out. He commanded attention and took it as his right. They all knew he was rich, or else he wouldn’t be in a first-class lounge. They only wondered if he was famous—and if so famous, for what?

But, for all the attention he garnered, on some level he didn’t engage. Why was that? she wondered.

‘Trust me...cold and detached are two words that have never been used by a woman to describe me...’

And all at once Kate knew what he had been referring to with that little smile curling his lips, when he had told her that wallets held more important stuff than money and credit cards.

Condoms.

A man who could have whatever woman he wanted always had to be prepared, she thought, with a burst of cynicism.

It was incredible that she had managed to forget just what sort of a person he was. He might be remote, he might be as shallow as a puddle when it came to anything emotional, but he was also witty, intelligent, and when he focused those dark, speculative, brooding eyes on her, all her misgivings floated away like dew on a hot summer morning.

Which didn’t change the fact that he was a man who made sure he carried condoms in his wallet—because who knew when some poor good-looking girl might cross his path, hoping for more than just a one-night stand or a one-month fling with a bunch of goodbye roses when she was on her way out?

‘Well, this is one woman who’s using them now,’ Kate said coolly. ‘When we’ve confronted poor George in his hotel room and you’ve shaken him down and booted him out of your company without a backward glance, will you be able to wipe your hands and walk away without giving him a second thought? Because if you can then you’re cold and detached—and it doesn’t matter how many adoring fans tell you the opposite.’

From any other woman Alessandro would not have taken this. He had his rules and his boundaries and those were lines that were never crossed. In truth, he never really even had to lay them down. They were unwritten, unspoken and obeyed without fail.

Kate Watson—who, on the surface, promised to be as non-committal as a plank of wood—chose to disregard every single one of those boundary lines, and her rampant disobedience intrigued him and he didn’t quite know why.

Maybe it was the dichotomy between what she strove to conceal and what she was lured into revealing against her better judgement.

He might not be involved with her on a personal level, but there was something in her that aroused his interest.

‘I expect you’re going to remind me that it’s not my place to voice opinions about you or what you do...’ she muttered in a half-hearted apology.

‘We’re going to be in each other’s company for a week. If you have something to say then you might as well get it off your chest. I don’t think I can face your constant disapproval. And I’m guessing from those pursed lips that you do disapprove of me?’

‘I... No, of course I don’t...’ Her voice fell away.

‘Of course you do. You have opinions on the type of person I am, and admiration isn’t one of them. That’s something you’ve decided you’ll leave to those adoring fans of mine.’

Hot colour crawled up into her cheeks. Pursed lips. She was a woman with pursed lips and disapproval and starchy suits. He was fun. And she was the schoolmarm who always rained on his parade.

Except it wasn’t fun when there was some poor, deluded hopeful woman at the receiving end, was it?

‘I have a lot of admiration for your business acumen,’ she said stiffly. ‘They say that everything you touch turns to gold. That’s quite an achievement. I think it takes a lot to be a guy who builds all the businesses and it’s something quite different from the guy who services them. You’re the guy who builds the businesses.’

‘Not exactly adoring, though, is it...?’ he mused. ‘When it comes to accolades...?’

He enjoyed the way she blushed. It was something he had never noticed before. Like a wayward horse tugging at its reins, his mind broke its leash and zoomed back to the picture of her in those shorts, long legs going on for ever, full breasts bouncing braless in that small top.

Great body sternly kept under wraps because she had learned lessons from having a mother who was too ready to flaunt hers.

Had she ever flaunted her body for a man?

‘I don’t have to be a member of your fan club to appreciate that you’re talented at what you do.’

She wanted to tell him that this was hardly appropriate conversation, but she suspected that he didn’t give a damn what was appropriate and what wasn’t. He did what he wanted to do because he could.

If she annoyed him too much she would probably find herself next to George on a trip to never-never land.

‘But when it comes to anything that isn’t work-related your admiration levels drop off sharply—am I right?’ Her face was averted and he absently appreciated the fine delicacy of her profile. He had a sudden urge to release her long chestnut-brown hair from its ridiculous clips and pins.

‘I suppose I have different standards to you when it comes to relationships,’ she said eventually, when the silence was threatening to overwhelm her. She wasn’t looking at him, but she could feel his dark eyes boring into the side of her face.

What was this all about? He didn’t give a hoot what she thought about his personal life. Maybe he was irritated because she was being a little more forthcoming than he was used to, but her outspokenness probably amused him.

She was providing him with a different taste sensation—why not try it?

‘And tell me what those standards are...’

Kate swung to look at him and discovered that he was leaning towards her, far too close for comfort.

Dark, dark eyes with ridiculously long eyelashes clashed with hers and the breath caught in her throat. She inched back, furious with herself for feeling uncomfortable in his presence, for letting him get to her, when she had given herself a stern talk about all that nonsense before she had left her house.

‘I...’

‘You’re not going to dry up on me now, are you, Kate? When you’ve come this far?’

And just how had she managed to do that? she wondered. One minute they were striding through an airport and the next minute she had launched into a personal attack on his moral standards. Or as good as!

Trapped by her own idiocy, she frantically tried to think of a clever way to change the conversation, but he was waiting for her to say something. And not a sudden commentary on the weather or the state of the economy. No such luck. Why would he rescue her from her hideous discomfort when he could get a kick from pinning her to the wall and watching her wriggle like a worm on a hook?

‘I don’t approve of men who...use women. Maybe that’s the wrong word,’ she corrected hastily. ‘I mean I don’t approve of men who slide in and out of relationships, trying them on for size and then discarding the ones that don’t quite fit.’

‘And what about women who try men on for size?’

‘That doesn’t happen.’

‘No?’ He raised his eyebrows in a cool question. ‘Ever had a boyfriend, Kate?’

‘Of course I have!’ she said hotly. ‘And I don’t see what that has to do with anything!’

‘Where is he now?’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Where is this wonder guy now?’ He peered around him, as if at any moment the man in question would stride out from where he had been hiding behind a computer terminal.

‘We... It finished...’

‘Ah.’ Alessandro sat back and linked his fingers lightly on his lap. ‘So it didn’t work out?’

‘No, it didn’t,’ Kate said uncomfortably.

‘Was it a case of him using you ruthlessly before tossing you aside on the discarded heap?’

‘No!’ she cried, as flustered as a witness sitting in the box, being picked apart by the prosecution.

‘Well, what happened, in that case?’ And now his tone had changed. Very subtly. Because he’d discovered that he was curious about this mystery guy who hadn’t chucked her on his discards pile. ‘And don’t think about launching into a little sermon about it being none of my business. You don’t seem to have too many qualms about speaking your mind, so you can answer one or two questions of your own.’

‘We broke up.’ She shrugged and tore her eyes away from his lean, aggressive face. ‘The timing was wrong,’ she admitted grudgingly. ‘I was very busy. I wasn’t in the right place to fully cultivate the relationship the way it deserved to be cultivated...’

‘Ah...so an amicable parting of ways...?’

Kate could have thought of other ways of describing their inevitable split. Amicable didn’t feature on the list.

‘So here’s the thing,’ he said, voice as smooth as silk and yet razor-sharp. ‘You seem to be under the impression that every relationship that doesn’t end in a walk up the aisle is a relationship that involves one person using the other. But life’s not like that. Yes, it may have been so for your mother, but your mother was a certain type of personality. Your mother—and I’m no expert on this—may have been searching for something, and the only way she could conduct her search was by offering what she had and hoping it got picked by the right kind of guy...’

‘You’re right. You don’t know my mother.’

‘Maybe your mother was fundamentally insecure,’ he carried on relentlessly. ‘But that doesn’t mean that everyone is like her. She’s not the benchmark.’

‘I never said she was.’

‘No?’

‘I should never have said anything,’ she breathed resentfully. ‘It’s awful when you tell someone something and they then proceed to use it against you like in a court of law.’

But didn’t he have a point? She refused to concede that he did, but her conscience nagged in a way it never had before. He had stripped her of her convenient black-and-white approach and she didn’t want that. It was easier to set a course when you weren’t distracted by grey areas and murky questions.

‘It’s not about the outcome,’ she muttered in a driven voice. ‘It’s about the intent.’

‘Explain.’

‘I don’t want to be having this conversation.’ She gazed at the tepid coffee in her cup and wished she had something to fiddle with. ‘Maybe we ought to find out whether we should be boarding. Or something.’

‘They’ll call us when it’s time for us to board the plane. Relax.’

She was as tense as a bowstring, her body rigid. So much emotion contained behind that bland exterior. He reached out and brushed his finger against the soft skin on the underside of her wrist and she tensed.

And he tensed.

Electric. Unexpected. A high-voltage charge that suddenly ran between them.

He withdrew his hand quickly. ‘You initiate conversations,’ he said coolly, ‘and when the going gets a little tricky you back away because you’re too scared to carry on. Weren’t you ever taught to finish what you start?’

The lazy teasing had gone, wiped out by that ferocious assault on his senses when he had casually touched her. Watching and speculating was one thing. But what he had felt just then, when he had briefly touched her...

It had felt like a loss of control. For a couple of seconds he had been knocked back by a reaction he had not expected. Curiosity had stoked his libido, but now...now he felt something as powerful as a depth charge. The shock of the unexpected jacked his responses into full alert. For once, toying with the idea of a woman in his bed seemed a dangerous adventure not to be undertaken.

‘Okay...’ Kate surreptitiously rubbed her wrist where his finger had been. ‘If you really want to know, there’s a difference between starting a relationship in the hope that it’ll develop into something and starting a relationship knowing that it’s going to crash and burn when you decide it’s time to move on.’

‘And I’m a crash-and-burn guy...?’

She shrugged and he stared her down, his dark eyes cool, his expression unreadable.

Was he storing away everything she said to be used at a later date? Did he even care one way or another what she said? She decided that, no, he probably didn’t. He wasn’t the kind of guy who would tolerate personal comments on his moral choices. She couldn’t picture any woman sitting him down with a cup of tea and sharing her opinions on his ethics and his principles. They might have a rant when he chucked them over for a new model, but that was different.

Yet here he was now, waiting for her to say something. If he didn’t care about her opinions he wouldn’t be allowing her this leeway. Would he?

‘Sort of... I guess... It’s not for me to say...’

‘Easy to make assumptions, isn’t it?’ he said softly. ‘You criticized me for making assumptions about how your background influenced you...yet here you are... A bit hypocritical, wouldn’t you say?’

The question hung in the air between them. Suddenly it felt as though they were the only two people sitting here. Background noise—not that there was much of that—faded, until she could almost hear the beating of her own heart.

It had been easy to tell herself that she could redefine the lines between them. Sitting here, she couldn’t understand how those good intentions had been swept aside so fast and so completely.

‘If you can’t take the heat,’ Alessandro drawled, ‘then you should stay out of the kitchen. You think it’s okay to offer your opinions on what you imagine my personal life is like...? Well, it’s a two-way street...’

He beckoned across a young girl who was on the hunt for empty plates and glasses and asked her to fetch him a cup of black coffee, and all the while his eyes remained fastened on Kate’s flushed face.

‘But I’m glad you brought this up,’ he continued, obviously not getting the vibes she was transmitting, ‘because, like I said, a week of constant silent disapproval isn’t what I need...’

‘I didn’t have to come,’ Kate muttered.

‘But here you are. And, incidentally, you actually did have to come. You had to come because I requested it. So, now we’re having this cosy little chat, let me fill you in on your misconceptions. I don’t pick women up and drop them, having led them up the garden path. I don’t make promises I have no intention of fulfilling in exchange for sex.’

Kate stared mutinously at the ground, wishing it would do her a favour and open up and swallow her.

She was being chastised. Like a misbehaving kid in a classroom.

‘Trust me—I don’t have to do that.’

Coffee was brought to him and Kate noticed the way the young girl half curtseyed and stared at him, goggle-eyed. He might make noises about not wanting to be treated like royalty, and laugh because maybe he really did mean it, but he was treated like royalty.

‘So you don’t leave any broken hearts behind you?’ she finally asked, prompted into filling the silence.

He looked at her thoughtfully.

‘Maybe I do,’ he mused. ‘But through no fault of my own.’

Kate’s mouth fell open. Talk about ditching responsibility! Her face must have revealed what was going through her head, but this time he relaxed, sipped the coffee that had been brought to him and smiled.

‘I don’t want commitment and I never pretend that I do,’ he said, and she bit down hard on the ready retort rising to her lips. ‘I lay my cards on the table from the start.’

‘And what would those cards happen to be?’ Kate asked politely. She thought that they probably came from the same deck that all commitment-phobes used.

‘No strings attached. I tell them from the outset that I’m in it for fun. I give them the opportunity to walk away.’

How considerate.

‘No sleepovers...no cosy nights in in front of the telly...no knick-knacks in the bathroom...’

‘That’s a lot of rules,’ Kate said truthfully. ‘And then what happens?’

‘What do you mean?’ Alessandro frowned in puzzlement, because how much clearer could he get with his explanation?

‘What if some of the rules get broken? I mean, what if one of your dates decides that she’d rather stay in than go out. But, no... I suppose those supermodel types love the camera, so why would they ever want to do something as boring as staying in...?’

Alessandro grinned but didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. Why would any woman want to go out when they had the option of staying in a bed with him? Kate could read that clearly from his wicked grin.

‘My rules don’t get broken,’ he murmured with soft assurance. ‘And if they do then it spells the end of a relationship. And now that we’ve cleared that up...’ He leaned forward to flip open his laptop, which had been resting on the table in front of them.

Now that he had cleared that up she was dismissed—along with her opinions.


CHAPTER FIVE (#u29a44239-142c-584d-bdfb-84b94218c41c)

IT WASN’T THE MOST relaxed of trips, even though it should have been. The first-class service was faultless. There seemed to be no end to the smiling girls waiting at the ready to bring whatever they were told to bring. They were, literally, primed to jump to attention. People paid a fortune—and they didn’t just get hot breakfasts in the first-class lounges. The bowing and scraping followed them onto the plane.

Kate had been on a one-week holiday with her mother three years previously. They had flown to Ibiza for a few days of sun and the flight over had been cramped and unpleasant. The airline staff had been abrupt and indifferent and it had been a relief to land and get off.

On this flight she had endless leg room. The seat could be transformed into a bed. There was champagne and wine and the food was of fine-dining standard.

But she shouldn’t have worn a suit. The pumps she could dispense with, but the skirt was horribly uncomfortable. Grey jogging bottoms had been thoughtfully provided in a sanitised plastic bag, along with a matching jumper, but she couldn’t bring herself to wear either.

The only saving grace was that Alessandro worked and dozed, leaving her to get on with the business of dreading the week ahead.

There was a lot to dread. High on the list was the fact that she could give herself a million stern lectures on keeping her distance but none of those words of wisdom counted for anything—because he seemed to have the power to seduce her into whatever conversation he happened to want at the time.

She could wave the folder she had on George in front of his handsome face, but if he wasn’t in the mood to get down to business then he just...didn’t.

And something about him propelled her into speech. The hatefully arrogant man could just tilt his head to one side, direct that devastating half smile on her and off she would go, blabbering on about stuff that didn’t concern him and pouring out confidences that she never shared with anyone.

Then he would grow bored and she would be dismissed—just like that.

If in the space of a few days and some snatched conversations she had managed to tell him about her insecure upbringing and how that had made her feel, not to mention her thoughts on men like him, then what was the week ahead going to bring?

And then there was the uncomfortable question of the way she couldn’t seem to stop herself from looking at him—and not in the harmless way an employee was supposed to look at her boss. Nothing about what he aroused in her felt appropriate.

What was that all about? Was it because she had been so careful to put things into boxes—to put men into boxes—that the first time one had slipped through the net, she had not had the necessary weaponry to deal with the intruder?

That calmed her. It was easy to picture him as an intruder, muscling his way past ‘Do Not Trespass’ signs, making inroads into places he had no right to be.

She could deal with intruders. Even metaphorical ones. So she might have been caught off guard? That didn’t mean that she was doomed to being caught off guard whenever she happened to be in his company. She might be inexperienced but she wasn’t a complete idiot!

She was in a better frame of mind by the time the plane began taxiing down to land.

‘Good flight?’ he asked as everyone began to stand in preparation for disembarking. ‘You look a little...rumpled. Didn’t I question your choice of outfit? Why didn’t you wear the comfy clothes provided? Or didn’t you locate them...?’

‘I had a very good flight,’ Kate answered serenely. ‘It was relaxing. I read my book, watched a couple of movies, dozed...and as a matter of fact I’m very comfortable with my choice of clothing.’

The damn man looked as fresh as a daisy—all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and ready for what was waiting for them in Toronto.

She didn’t dare glance down at her skirt, which would be horribly creased—a suitable companion to her shirt, which was also horribly creased. She wondered whether it was physically possible for a face to look creased as well. If it was, then she would bet that hers did.

But her smile was wide and bright.

‘It beats travelling cattle class,’ she volunteered, making sure not to watch as he hoisted his bag down from the overhead locker, as well as her own pull-along. ‘I guess I should make the most of it. I don’t see it happening again any time soon.’

‘You aim too low.’

Alessandro looked down at her as they began the process of disembarking. Her neat bun was disobeying orders from above and staging a rebellion. Tendrils had escaped and she had tried to push them back into position without much success. She looked as though she had travelled prepared to step out of the plane straight into a board meeting, but had been dragged through a hedge somewhere along the way. Cute.

‘I like to aim for what I can reasonably achieve,’ she replied primly, stepping past him and out into the sweltering summer heat.

She felt his warm breath on her neck as he leant towards her from behind.

‘Repeat. You aim too low. Reasonable achievements are for the unadventurous.’

‘That’s me,’ she said sharply, half turning towards him. She spun back round and heard him chuckle behind her.

She had no idea what to expect of Toronto, having never travelled further afield than Ibiza, but whatever lay in store, it would flash past in style—because they’d cleared customs and outside there was a stretch limo waiting for them.

‘Is this another wow moment?’ Alessandro cupped her elbow with his hand and ushered her into the long, luxurious, totally over-the-top car.

There was lazy amusement in his voice.

When she had been feverishly writing him off as an intruder, who could be locked out with just a little bit of will power, she had been dealing with a cardboard cut-out in her head. Which was what she wanted him to be. An arrogant, obnoxious, ruthless cardboard cut-out.

Unfortunately the second he opened his mouth, her brain rebelled against categorizing him because he had far too many layers.

‘It’s just a car,’ she returned politely.

It wasn’t. Just a car was something small that took you from A to B, and fingers crossed it didn’t decide to break down en route. At least, that would be the kind of car she would probably buy in a year or two.

‘I’m not impressed because I don’t see the point of something this big. I mean, you can’t nip down to the supermarket in it, can you?’

‘Good point. However you can help yourself to a glass of whisky from the handy little bar... Care for a drink?’

Kate shook her head. The last thing she needed was to start relaxing into yet another dangerous conversation with him.

She looked through the window, her whole body aware of him next to her, lazily lounging against the door, his long legs spread slightly apart.

‘Have you been here before?’ she asked eventually, turning to him, her body pressed against the door.

‘If you’d paid attention to those reports on the company we’re going to try and fit in while we’re here, you’d have seen that I was here less than six months ago. Don’t tell me you haven’t scoured the file? I’ll be bitterly disappointed.’

Kate cleared her throat. ‘You enjoy doing that, don’t you?’

‘Enjoy doing what?’

‘Winding me up.’

‘Is that what I was doing? I thought I was paying you a backhanded compliment, as a matter of fact. You’re such a professional that I expected you to have scoured that file from front to back and memorized everything in it.’

‘I glanced through it. I wasn’t aware that I was going to be actively involved in the acquisition.’

‘Why wouldn’t you be?’

‘Because it’s quite a sizeable...er...I just thought that perhaps someone a bit higher up the pecking order would be put in charge...’

‘I don’t see how that’s going to be possible,’ Alessandro mused speculatively, ‘when George will be busy packing up his belongings for the big goodbye. You waxed lyrical about your ambitions...’

‘Of course I’m ambitious.’ She automatically fell into familiar terrain. As long as they were talking about work then she was comfortable, and repeating her hopes for her career was a damn sight safer than getting lost in a personal conversation with him.

‘Yes—you need to build financial security to protect you because you lacked it when you were growing up...’

‘I want to get on,’ she amended through gritted teeth.

‘The work you did for me last week on those files I dropped off for you...good job...’

Kate flushed with pleasure. ‘You mean it?’

‘I can see why Cape decided that you had what it took to fast-track you. Mind you, I’m thinking he was busy directing his attention elsewhere, so it helped that you were so quick. You could pick up any slack.’ He grinned. ‘And before you launch into a defence of the hapless George, I have a proposition for you...’

‘What?’

‘Instead of recruiting from outside for a replacement for Cape, I am considering promoting you. Of course you won’t qualify for Cape’s vacated post, but you’ll effectively be hoisted a couple of steps up the career ladder. You will be responsible for bigger accounts, and to alleviate any bad feeling with the people you work with I will reorganize the team. There will be a greater distribution of more responsible tasks and I’ll bring in a few lower down the scale to be trained up. Effectively, you and your team will all benefit...’

‘I...I couldn’t...’ Guilt swept over her. ‘Poor George finds himself without a job, thrown on the scrap heap, and to top it all off I step into his shoes. I would feel like I was dancing on someone’s grave.’

Alessandro frowned. ‘You’re being melodramatic. No one’s dancing on anyone’s grave. A vacancy will arise with his departure...it makes complete sense...’

‘It might make sense, but it doesn’t make it right...’

‘He leaves and I either recruit from outside, with all the attendant hassle of training someone up, or I promote from within the company—and you’re the obvious choice. You want financial security? This will lever you a couple of rungs up the security ladder.’

‘It’s not black and white like that!’

‘Fine. You can get lost in the grey blurry bits, but it’s pretty black and white from where I’m standing. Furthermore, would you deny your colleagues a golden opportunity to advance their careers because you’re so concerned about a guy who didn’t seem to care very much when it came to defrauding the company that’s treated him very well for countless years?’

‘You could still do something for them...I don’t have to be part of the equation...’

‘No deal. You accept the whole package or you don’t. Simple as that. Think about it...’

‘I...’ Could she deny the people who worked alongside her their chance of getting pay rises? Of going further with their careers?

‘Of course this would not be with immediate effect,’ Alessandro said, watching her carefully. ‘There would be a slow transfer of duties and when I’m reassured that you’re up to the increased workload, you will be given a new title...and a suitable pay rise to reflect that. See this as my having faith in your abilities and not as twisting the knife in someone else’s back. If any knife-twisting has gone on, it’s been done by Cape to himself. He dug his grave the minute he decided to start embezzling.’

‘I—I’m pleased that you have faith in my abilities,’ Kate stammered. ‘But...’ She sighed. ‘We don’t know what will happen about George. We haven’t...you know...heard what he has to say yet...’

‘Don’t really have to,’ Alessandro told her gently. ‘I could humour you by pretending that I give a damn about his explanation, but in my book theft is theft. My only concern is how he will be rewarded for his misdoings...’

‘So this trip is...pointless...?’

‘This trip is about you being on an essential learning curve when it comes to handling awkward situations. There’s no room for grey areas or indecision. And whether you accept the promotion I’m offering you or allow your guilt to get the better of your good sense, you should know one thing: the higher up the ladder you climb, the more important it is for you to know how to do that.’

‘In other words I have to become as ruthless as...as...?’

‘As me?’

‘I guess I believe there are other ways of...of...’

‘There aren’t.’

‘You’re so cut-throat...’

‘Life has a curious way of shaping our responses.’

Kate looked at him and wondered what he meant by that. Was it just a general remark, or were there factors in his life that had made him the way he was? He was beyond rich, beyond powerful and beyond good-looking—and yet he moved from woman to woman with no intention of settling down. Why was that?

What it was, she told herself sternly, was none of her business.

‘Of course...’ Alessandro moved on smoothly. ‘Before you accept your brand-new shiny job promotion—and I know you will because it would be stupid not to, and you’re not stupid—there’s something I should ask you...’

‘What’s that?’

‘How reliable do you think you will be in this new role? You don’t seem to object to putting in overtime in the steady climb upwards, but will that become difficult for you when and if you’re given extra responsibilities and overtime ceases to be a choice and becomes a necessity? No, don’t answer that. But think about it and we will discuss it over dinner. The back of a cab—even a very long cab—is no place to have this conversation.’

‘Dinner?’

What dinner? What was wrong with room service in their separate rooms and a career discussion over a cup of coffee in the morning?

‘It’s all we’ll be able to do with what remains of the day.’ Alessandro was irked at the look of horror that had flashed across her face. ‘We both do have to eat,’ he said coolly.

‘Yes, but I thought that I might just grab something in my room and hit the sack early. It’s been a long day.’

‘Well, you’ll have to rethink your plans.’

‘Of course.’

‘And I trust your entire wardrobe isn’t comprised of a selection of starchy suits...?’

‘What difference does it make?’ Kate asked tightly.

‘It’s not a working meal.’

Control. Yes, he understood. You didn’t have to be a genius to join the dots. Her background had made her the sort of woman who felt a driving need to impose control in every aspect of her life. She controlled her appearance, she controlled her hair, she controlled her reactions, controlled her emotions. She was so serious that it was sometimes hard to believe that she was actually in her twenties. All over the world there were grannies out and about having more fun than her. And he wasn’t used to women looking appalled at the thought of spending five minutes in his company.

‘You can relax in my company for five seconds, Kate.’

Frankly, she thought she already had—and it hadn’t been a good idea. ‘Right...’

‘You could sound more convinced.’ Irritation had crept into his voice. ‘We’re here.’

She hadn’t even noticed the stretch limo slowing. She had missed most of the trip because her attention had been exclusively focused on the man sitting next to her. So much for dispelling the intruder by getting a grip.

She looked around her and saw a city that was like any other—although there was something more peaceful and less frantic about it than London. The hotel they were approaching was, as she might have expected, the last word in expensive, from its imposing facade to the doormen waiting to relieve the wealthy visitors of their baggage, eager to make sure that they did absolutely nothing for themselves if it could be helped.

The foyer was bustling with visitors, coming and going. Next to them Kate felt the inadequacy of her carefully chosen but now creased outfit. She didn’t blend in. Even some of the younger people in jeans and tee shirts managed to look staggeringly designer-casual, as though they had randomly plucked something out of the wardrobe and yet succeeded in looking effortlessly cool.

For a few rebellious seconds she wished that she hadn’t tied her hair back—wished that she hadn’t worn a knee-length drab skirt and a sensible blouse. She wished, for the first time in her life, that she had taken a page out of her mother’s book and made the most of her assets.

She frowned. Alessandro had accused her of being a hypocrite and she had predictably reacted by hitting the roof—because who was he to pass judgement on her? Yet, wasn’t she?

If she’d seen life in exactly the same black-and-white way that he did wouldn’t she have worn more comfortable clothes for the flight over? Brought more to wear than stuff that could only be labelled as excruciatingly businesslike...? Had a wardrobe that actually contained clothes a girl her age would wear? She was so scared of emulating her mother that she had veered off in completely the opposite direction, ignoring the fact that there was always a middle ground.

No wonder he was so entertained by her! No wonder he got a kick out of winding her up! She played straight into his hands by trying to control everything she said and did—way more than the occasion demanded.

Yet he had seen her in relaxed mode, she thought with a twinge of discomfort. And whilst that would have been nothing for him, because he was used to seeing far more beautiful women wearing a lot less, it had been something for her. She had felt exposed and vulnerable. Stupid.

She surfaced to find that she was being led out of the foyer and towards a bank of lifts up to her hotel room—which would give her welcome relief from her thoughts.

She was a lot less relieved when they were shown to the same door, which was flung open to reveal an absolutely enormous suite. She stared at it in horror.

‘What’s this?’ She remained firmly planted in the doorway, only shifting to allow the porter inside, watching with her arms folded until he was dispatched and the only occupants of the vast room were Alessandro and herself.

Alessandro looked around, as though noticing his surroundings for the first time.

She was so predictable in her reactions. Dismay at the prospect of being in his company, horror at imagining dinner with him, and now downright shrieking tension, barely kept in check, at the idea that this vast suite might be a shared situation.

Was it any wonder that he couldn’t seem to stop himself from goading her?

Especially when, as it was now, the colour staining her cheeks looked just so unbelievably appealing?

As was her half-opened mouth, her flashing eyes, and the way her pink tongue had sneaked out to moisten her lips...

‘It’s a room, Kate,’ he said, in the patient voice of someone explaining the obvious. ‘Hotels tend to have them. It’s a must when it comes to attracting potential guests.’

‘Ha-ha.’ She wasn’t budging. She could feel her pulse racing as she craned her neck from her position by the door to try and ascertain just what the situation was regarding sleeping arrangements.

He couldn’t possibly expect them to share a bedroom, could he? No. No way.

As if reading her thoughts, and reluctantly deciding to put her out of her misery, he said without looking at her, strolling towards the huge bay window to gaze idly outside, ‘No need to panic. This is where I’ll be staying.’

He turned to face her and saw her visibly relax.

‘I asked my secretary to book two adjoining rooms. It wasn’t a necessity, but I thought it might be more convenient if this deal kicks off and we find ourselves having to work late. I only realized when I read through the confirmation that my instructions were taken a little too literally...’

He took his time walking towards a door which she hadn’t noticed and flung it open.

‘You’re in there... Actually, if you’d looked at the bedroom you would have noticed that your case is nowhere in evidence. You could have spared yourself your giddy meltdown.’

‘I was not having a giddy meltdown... I was just curious as to... Well...’

‘You may have your opinions on my relationships with women...’ Alessandro’s voice was cool and hard ‘...but I draw the line at sharing a bedroom with one of my employees when we’re on business...’

And when we’re not?

Kate shoved aside the immediate thought that sprang into her head on the back of his remark. She walked towards the door and peered into a suite that was almost as big as the one in which she was standing.

‘And, before you ask, yes, there’s a lock on the interconnecting door—so you’ll be quite safe should I find myself accidentally trying to sleepwalk into your bedroom.’

His voice left her in no doubt that that was the last thing he would consider doing. There was laughter just below the surface and she flushed. She might be having a hard time disassociating the sex-on-legs guy from the guy who actually paid her salary, but that was because of her own overactive imagination.

‘In that case,’ she said stiffly, ‘I think I’ll freshen up...have a bath.’ She looked at him. ‘I wonder whether it might not be a better idea for us to continue our discussion about my job in the morning. When we’re more alert.’

‘It’s not even seven-thirty in the evening,’ Alessandro said drily. ‘I think I’m alert enough to focus. And in the morning we can both look forward to a fun-packed full day tracking down our adventurous crook. So...’ He looked at his Rolex and then back at her as she waited, ready to sprint to safety. ‘I can either come and get you in an hour, or so you can meet me in the bar downstairs...which would you rather?’

‘I’ll meet you,’ Kate muttered.

‘Fine. In an hour sharp.’ He grinned. ‘You can scuttle off and have your bath now...’

Scuttle.

Horrible word. Scuttle was the sort of thing timid little creatures did to get away from danger. Admittedly Alessandro might easily be classed as a dangerous species—at least to her peace of mind—but she had never particularly considered herself a timid little creature.

She had had to develop a tough streak just to get though most of her childhood. In addition to her mother’s guilelessly flamboyant jobs, her shocking naivety when it came to the opposite sex and her casual disregard for most aspects of parenting, Kate had also had to be on standby for her mother when her heart had inevitably got broken.

In the framework of things, being timid was a luxury she had never been able to afford.

But was that how Alessandro saw her? If so, wouldn’t that come into play when it came to sealing the deal on any job promotion for her? Who wanted someone timid handling important accounts and clients?

The clothes she had packed all fell into the category of timid. When she had chosen what to take she had made sure to pack stuff that conveyed the right message—she was a working woman on business. A few less formal things had been brought for those evenings that she had intended spending on her own, discovering the city at her own pace and without her challenging boss for company.

Prospects on that particular front now looked anything but sunny. Overcast with the threat of downpours might be more like it.

She took her time enjoying her bath, absently marvelling at the size of the bathroom, and then, with a sigh, opted for a variation on the eternal suit. The navy skirt was, like all her work skirts, knee-length, but instead of a white blouse she chose a red one. And after a lot of hesitation decided against the bun—because she could already visualize those mocking dark eyes taking in the ensemble and having a laugh at her expense.

It took her a while to find the bar. The hotel was enormous, with extensive shopping within it and several dining areas. Eventually, however, she was directed to one of the less casual bars, which was where she expected he would be. Relaxing over a whisky and soda and amusing himself with various scenarios involving George and his dismissal.

Sure enough, he was there, nursing a drink, although it looked like wine instead of whisky.

He glanced at her as soon as she began heading in his direction.

He had changed out of his travelling gear into a pair of cream trousers, an open-necked pale shirt and some loafers. He looked completely at ease—which had the perverse effect of making her feel totally out of place.

She had brought her tablet, which she placed on the table before sitting down.

‘What’s that for?’

Alessandro poured her a glass of wine before she could tell him that she wasn’t going to be drinking.

‘Have you decided that you’d rather watch a movie than talk to me?’

Instantly flustered, Kate adjusted the tablet and then sat back, hands on her lap. ‘I thought I’d take notes on it rather than on paper,’ she told him.

‘We’re having an informal chat.’ Alessandro finished his wine, and before he could top up his glass someone materialized and did it for him before subsiding back into the background. ‘I’m not dictating terms and conditions.’

‘Yes, I know that. But...’

‘No matter. If it makes you happy to busy yourself on a tablet then who am I to tell you otherwise? I thought we’d eat here. It’s less formal than one of the hotel restaurants and it saves us the trouble of venturing out... Unless you’d rather do a bit of city exploring...? See what’s out there...?’

He waited for a heated negative to that idea—which, predictably, he got.

Did she ever let her hair down? he wondered. Aside from when she was closeted away in her house, safe in her territory, where no one could see her? Unless they unexpectedly dropped by and refused to go away without being invited inside... What did she do for fun? Did she have any? Or was that an alien concept to be avoided at all costs?

Curiosity niggled away at him, and he wasn’t sure whether he was impatient with that, exasperated or invigorated—because curiosity and women was a combination that didn’t occur in his life.

His dark eyes lazily fastened to her face, he summoned the same guy who had leapt to refill his glass and somehow managed to convey a request for menus without actually saying anything.

Kate watched this interplay between power and subservience, unsettled but fascinated.

‘I sincerely hope you’ve brought something else to wear tomorrow, Kate. It’s boiling here at this time of year...’

‘I’ll be fine,’ Kate said airily.

‘Sure? Because if you’ve brought those shorts of yours then feel free to wear them. They’d be far more appropriate, given the weather. The food here’s excellent,’ he carried on, as menus were placed in front of them. ‘I stayed here the last time I was in Toronto and I couldn’t fault the food. Or the service.’

‘They’re very obliging,’ Kate said politely. ‘I guess it’s the least you’d expect, considering what you’re probably paying...’

Alessandro grinned. ‘A bit like the service and the hot meals in the first-class lounge...? Touché...’

‘I don’t suppose you ever slum it...’

‘I try and avoid that. Why? Have I been missing out?’

At the prospect of another detour into a personal conversation she didn’t want—one she would have to manoeuvre through with the adroitness of someone walking in a minefield—Kate brought the talk firmly round to business and the reason why she was sitting opposite him in the first place. In a darkened bar. Knees practically touching under the table. Chilled wine in front of them. She inched her knees to one side and hoped he hadn’t noticed.

‘You mentioned in the car on the way here that there was something you wanted to talk to me about in connection with this job promotion...that’s why I’ve brought my tablet, as a matter of fact. I thought it might be an idea to make some notes on the various responsibilities I’ll be taking on board.’

‘Ah, down to business straight away...’

Kate reddened, resenting the way that simple observation made her feel instantly like a bore. A bore in a semi-suit.

‘Good idea. You’re right. We’ll probably both need our beauty sleep if tomorrow’s going to be a long day.’

Kate searched his face for typical Alessandro irony but he returned her gaze seriously. Not that she believed he needed to go to sleep at this hour. She doubted he needed much sleep at all. Maybe even none. He struck her as the sort of guy who could just keep going...and going...and going...taking the occasional power nap while the rest of the world collapsed, exhausted, in his wake.

And he’d be able to do that whilst still managing to look, frankly, drop-dead gorgeous.

They both ordered something light from the menu and then she nervously gulped down a generous mouthful of wine and looked to him to carry on the conversation. He didn’t.

‘Yes...’ she returned feebly at last. ‘So...’

‘So here’s the thing, Kate.’

He leaned forward, suddenly all business, and she inched back in the chair, taking the wine glass with her.

‘If you recall, I expressed some concern that you might find the hours attached to your new role a little tedious if you’re forced to do them...and that’s something we should clear up right here and right now before going any further...’

He really had the most amazing eyelashes. He hadn’t shaved, and there was a shadowy stubble on his chin that also looked pretty amazing.

Kate tore her eyes away from both those amazing features and focused on him with a slight frown.

‘There’s nothing to clear up,’ she told him crisply. ‘I have no problem working long hours, if required. I one hundred per cent realize that that’s all part and parcel of any job that entails responsibility.’

Alessandro made a non-committal sound under his breath and sat back, pushing his chair away from the table so that he could cross his legs. He looked at her long and thoughtfully.

‘What about your personal life? Not to put too fine a point on it, I wouldn’t like to find that I’ve promoted you and you’re not up to the challenge because there’s some guy in the background, waiting for you to return home to cook his dinner...’

‘That won’t be the case,’ Kate responded hotly. ‘Firstly, there’s no man in the background—and secondly, even if there was, I certainly wouldn’t expect him to be a demanding kind of guy who wants his dinner cooked by me! In fact the reason I broke up with my last boyfriend—’ She clamped shut her mouth and stared at him, aghast.

He returned her stare, unperturbed.

‘Those sort of demanding men are to be avoided at all costs,’ he murmured softly. ‘I’m taking it that the boyfriend wanted more than you were prepared to give...? Hence he was given the heave-ho...?’

‘I... It was a very busy time for me... I...’ She cleared her throat and attempted to recover her lost composure. ‘So you needn’t fear that my mind won’t be completely on the job.’

‘I’m relieved. Although,’ he mused, ‘I sympathize. I guess he must have been an important person in your life, because you did tell me that you don’t believe in transitory relationships...’

‘It didn’t work out,’ Kate told him firmly, as she frantically sought an exit from the conversation. ‘I don’t dwell on the past.’

‘Very wise. Although you do allow it to influence certain aspects of your life. For instance, your dress code.’

At which point she decided that the next thing she would do, just as soon as she got the chance, would be to wipe that smirk off his face by making a point of showing him just how much it did not affect her dress code.

One slip-up—one slip up and the wretched man thought that he knew everything there was to know about her.

‘And now that we’ve settled that,’ she said calmly, ‘maybe you could let me know how you plan on handling tomorrow...?’


CHAPTER SIX (#u29a44239-142c-584d-bdfb-84b94218c41c)

KATE SPENT A restless night, even though she’d checked and double-checked and, just for good measure, triple-checked that the interconnecting door was firmly locked.

She didn’t expect him to waltz into her room—not at all—but she knew that she would have no peace of mind unless he was physically incapable of doing so.

As it was, she didn’t have much peace of mind anyway.

Her brain was buzzing with thoughts of promotion, of George—poor George—and the surprise he was going to have delivered to him the following morning in the form of Alessandro and herself, of her helplessness when it came to taking a step back from Alessandro...

She had left him sauntering towards one of the hotel lounges, where he’d intended to relax and work. She had no idea what time he had eventually returned to his bedroom, but she had not settled into sleep until after midnight.

Now, with her alarm buzzing her awake at seven sharp, she felt tired and unrested.

She took a few minutes just to lie there, appreciating the splendour of her surroundings. The sleeping area of her suite was twice the size of her bedroom at home. A super-king-sized four-poster bed dominated the space—wickedly, decadently romantic, with gauze curtains—and through the shimmery cream veils she could make out the sleek fitted wardrobes, the clutch of chairs by the window for relaxing...

Beyond the bedroom was an exquisite sitting area, with sofas, a concealed plasma television, a drinks cabinet...

It was a home away from home—except Kate felt anything but relaxed as she contemplated the day ahead.

Alessandro had the name of the hotel where George and his wife were holidaying. Somewhere slightly outside the main hub of the city. They would get the whole thing over and done with and then, from there, devote the remainder of the day to arranging meetings with the company he wanted to buy and two others he might or might not want to have a look at.

He had made no appointments ahead of their arrival but she knew that that would not matter. He had such clout that doors would open before he even got round to knocking on them.

‘You look tense,’ were his opening words as she took a seat opposite him in the dining area where they were having breakfast. He indicated the buffet area, which was extensive, and told her that a cup of strong coffee and plenty of food would settle her nerves.

‘I’m not nervous,’ Kate lied. ‘Yes, I’m tense, because what we have to do will be unpleasant, but I’m not nervous.’ Because nervousness was closely related to timidity, and they were not up sides when it came to a job promotion.

At any rate, Alessandro thought wryly, she was doing her utmost to ward off the nerves she claimed not to have by wearing yet another suit and having her hair scraped back into its habitual bun. Just in case he didn’t get the message, her choice of clothes would remind him that she was here to do a job and relaxing wasn’t part of the programme.

He had almost had to drag her down to have dinner with him, and even then she had kept up the professional facade that he was increasingly tempted to shatter.

The glimpses he had had of the real, living, breathing, passionate woman underneath the straitjackets she insisted on wearing 24/7 had whetted his appetite.

Of course it didn’t make sense. He had enough choice in his life when it came to women not ever to make the mistake of hunting one down in his own office building. He also had enough choice to avoid any woman who gave off signals of looking for more than he was prepared to offer, and Kate Watson was definitely one of those women. He liked no-strings-attached, no-demands-made sex. She wanted strings and he was pretty sure she would be demanding. Not for her a few casual words of warning and then full steam ahead.

But he couldn’t get that image of her wearing those shorts and that cropped top out of his head. He couldn’t forget how she looked without make-up, with her hair swinging in a ponytail and those cute little freckles sprinkling her nose.

‘I’m relieved to hear it,’ he said.

Alessandro wondered whether she was aware of the challenge she was posing by wearing those unappealing suits at every opportunity. Maybe he should tell her that all items of clothing that were buttoned to the neck begged to be ripped off. Perhaps he could slip that into the conversation somewhere along the line. Her white, sensible blouse was buttoned to the neck...

‘Are you insisting on taking me with you to dispatch George as some kind of test?’

Alessandro’s eyebrows shot up. ‘You mean to see if you pass out at the ordeal? We’ll be dealing with a common criminal, Kate. I’m not asking you to visit a morgue and identify a body. But, like I said, it’s important to know how to be tough when the occasion demands. I’m surprised that you’re fixating on the stress of this fairly straightforward situation,’ he added with silky assurance, ‘when you brushed your last boyfriend aside because he wouldn’t do as you wanted...’

Without giving her a chance to say anything, and with his eyes firmly pinned to her face, he summoned one of the many hovering waitresses and ordered them both a full breakfast.

‘You’ll need it. If we’re heading up to see Wakeley’s there’s no guarantee that lunch is going to be on the agenda. We might have to grab something on the way. Now, you were about to explain how it is that this situation is bringing you out in a cold sweat when dispatching the potential love of your life didn’t...’

‘I was not about to explain any such thing!’

‘Apologies. I had no idea that it was still such an issue for you...’

‘It’s not an issue for me!’ Kate felt like a swimmer, desperately trying to fight against a current. Why had he ordered breakfast for her? She was fine with fruit and a croissant! Fine with removing herself from his suffocating presence on the pretext of taking her time to choose items from the buffet table.

‘There’s no need to explain why you’d rather not discuss this. I was only making conversation, Kate. No need to panic.’

‘I am not panicking,’ she gritted tightly, and he threw her a kindly smile which implied that he didn’t believe a word she was saying.

‘And why,’ she pressed on, snatching at the coffee and taking a restorative mouthful, ‘do you insist on asking me loads of personal questions? Which have nothing to do with my job?’

‘Like I said, I was only making conversation. If I’d known that you were still sensitive on the topic of your ex-boyfriend then I would never have gone there. Trust me.’

Kate resisted the urge to burst into manic laughter. Trust him? She would rather trust a river seething with hungry piranha.

‘And as to asking you “loads of personal questions”...I like knowing a bit about the people who work for me—especially those higher up the pecking order, in positions of responsibility. Which, I’m sure, is where you will be very soon, given your talents... It helps if I know whether they’re married, involved in a serious relationship, have children... That way I can tailor the needs of the job to accommodate their needs as much as is possible...’

He had never given it any such thought before, but now that he had it sort of made sense. Not that he would be playing by those rules. Ever. Still, never let it be said that he wasn’t a man who didn’t see things from every angle.

Kate allowed her ruffled feathers to be soothed. She had overreacted. Breaking up with her ex was not exactly state-secret fodder. Who cared? Did Alessandro Preda really give a damn whether she had called off a relationship years ago with a man who no longer featured in her life? Wasn’t he telling the truth when he said that he was just making conversation? Polite conversation? The sort of polite conversation that was made every second of every day between people who didn’t know one another all that well?

‘It didn’t work out,’ she told him. ‘Simple as that. And before you tell me that I’m a hypocrite, because I make such a big deal about the importance of taking relationship building seriously...’

‘Relationship building? What’s that?’

Something my mother never did, was the reply that immediately sprang to mind, but she bit it back because that would be perfect proof of just how much she had been influenced by her mother’s behaviour.

In truth, looking back on her relationship with her ex-boyfriend, she could see that it had been built on hope—hope that he might be the one because they got along and because he ticked all the boxes. Like her, he had been studying accountancy. He had been reliable, feet firmly planted on the ground, a solid, dependable sort. He had been just the type of guy who made sense.

‘It’s when two people take the time to really establish the building blocks of a future together.’

‘It sounds riveting. How do they do that?’

Kate lowered her eyes and remained silent.

‘Please don’t tell me you’re going to slip back into I couldn’t possibly say because I’m just your employee mode...’

‘I am just your employee.’

‘I’m giving you permission to speak your mind. Believe it or not...’ he sat back as enough breakfast to feed a small developing country was placed in front of them ‘...I do have conversations with some of my employees that don’t revolve exclusively around work...’

‘I doubt you’d understand the sort of building blocks I’m talking about,’ Kate told him politely. She stared at the mound of food facing her and wondered where to begin. She speared some egg and then eyed the tempting waffles at the side. ‘Considering you’re not into building relationships.’

‘Fill me in. I want to see what I’ve been missing.’

Kate looked at him with exasperation. The man was utterly impossible, even though the smile on his face was so charming that it would knock any woman for six. She hurriedly focused on her food as her heart picked up speed and started relaying all those taboo messages from her brain to her body.

‘I know you don’t mean a word of that,’ she retorted, glaring. ‘But if you’re really interested then I’ll tell you. Relationship building is taking time to get to know someone else—to find out all you can about them, to open up so that they can find out all about you, and to plan a future together based on love and friendship and respect.’

‘You’re not selling it.’

‘I’m not interested in whether I’m selling it or not,’ Kate snapped. ‘And I wouldn’t expect to sell it to you, anyway!’

‘So, having spent time on this relationship building exercise, at what point did you discover that the fun element was missing...?’

‘He was lots of fun.’

He hadn’t been. He had been nice and he had been steady, and he had been all those things she had thought she wanted, but when it had come to the crunch he had also been ultra-traditional. So traditional that he had wanted her to be the little lady whose career was secondary to his, who did as he asked, who dropped everything because he came first...

She felt a wave of self-pity as she realized that she would probably never find anyone. She would end up with a terrific career but next to no friends—and certainly no significant other doing the barbecue thing in the back garden.

And she would never know what it was like to have fun because she had always been adamant that having fun wasn’t important—so adamant that the only important thing in life was being in control and never letting herself get swept away by emotion as her mother had.

But right now, in the depths of Cornwall, and despite her chequered past with men and jobs, Shirley ‘Lilac’ Watson was pretty contented.

Kate abruptly closed her knife and fork and fought against the sudden confusion rolling over her like fog.

‘It just didn’t work,’ she said flatly. ‘The time wasn’t right. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t put my heart and soul into it. And that’s all I have to say on the subject—I don’t want to discuss it again. It’s not relevant. And it’s not always just about fun.’

This to try and stifle some of the sudden misgivings that had swept over her—dark thoughts that some of the choices she had made in her life might not have been the right ones, even if they had been made with all the right intentions.

‘You’re probably right.’

But she barely heard him. His soothing agreement floated around her and dissipated.

‘I know for...for some people...’ she only just managed not to pin him as one of those people she was talking about ‘...fun is all about sex, but as far as I’m concerned there’s a great deal more to relationships than sex...’

She glared at him defiantly, challenging him to argue with her, but Alessandro had no intention of doing any such thing.

He had never registered much interest in analyzing women, or trying to plumb their hidden depths, but in this instance he could see the pattern of her life as clearly as if it had been printed in bright neon letters across her forehead.

She had instilled such a strict code for herself that she was a prisoner of it. He doubted she had ever had any sort of fun with that ex-boyfriend of hers, and he wondered what fun she had now, with her stable job and her bright future. Her head told her what she needed, but what she needed was not necessarily what she wanted.

And he got the impression that she was thinking about that conundrum for the first time in her life.

Because he had rammed it down her throat.

On the one hand he had done her a favour. She was so uptight that she would snap in two given a slight breeze. Life was not kind to the seriously uptight. He was certain of that. They were always the ones who ended their lives thinking about all the things they’d strenuously resisted doing.

On the other hand she was visibly upset—and that was hardly a positive way for a boss to encourage his employee to start the day.

‘You haven’t finished your breakfast,’ he told her, indicating her plate.

She smiled, thankful for the change in conversation and the reprieve from her thoughts.

‘I don’t think I’ve ever sat in front of a bigger breakfast.’

‘Bigger is better—that’s the motto, I think. We can stick to the buffet tomorrow.’

‘I didn’t have much appetite anyway,’ Kate admitted. ‘I guess I really am nervous about what today’s going to bring. Normally I eat like a horse. Perhaps we should think about going.’ She dug into her capacious handbag and extracted her tablet. ‘I’ve brought along all the information I have on George, in case you want to sit down with him and go through it.’

Alessandro had no intention of doing any such thing, but he was relieved that she was back to normal—back to her usual efficient self, back to being the woman who matched the uniform of suits she always wore.

Even though those moments just then, when he had seen her vulnerability, had merged into the other moments when he had glimpsed the woman underneath the navy suits...strangely alluring, weirdly appealing...

Impatient with himself, he signalled a waiter in order to sign for the breakfast and flung his linen napkin next to his plate. ‘Right.’ He stood as he signed the bill. ‘Let’s get going.’

It was as though their very personal conversation had never happened. He was all business. Even without the business suit.

‘Shall we get a taxi there? Do you know whether it’s a long drive out of the city centre?’

‘We won’t need a taxi.’ He flicked his cell phone out of his pocket and scrolled though the numbers. ‘I’ve arranged to have my own driver for the duration of our stay here. More reliable and more convenient than trying to find a taxi when we need one.’

‘The limo...?’

‘No.’

They began strolling out to the street and she followed him as he expertly made his way through the grand hotel and the designer shopping centre that circled it.

He looked at her, his eyes creased with amusement. ‘I didn’t think that my conscience could stand the guilt caused by the carbon footprint.’

There he went again, she thought with a little flurry of desperation. Undoing all her plans to ignore him by being...funny. By saying something that made her want to smile, even though half an hour before she had been mentally snarling at him for invading her private life and asking personal questions.

He was also in business mode. She could sense that as they settled into the back of the car—a far more modest affair than the limo, though still sleek and impressive by most people’s standards.

The hotel was forty minutes’ drive away, which made it quite a distance out of the hub of downtown Toronto, and he turned to her and said, with a thoughtful frown, ‘Seems a little odd to head for a hotel in the hills when you’re spending vast sums of money on a city holiday—wouldn’t you agree?’

Kate gave that some thought and nodded. ‘Although some people hate cities.’

‘Then why holiday in one?’

‘His wife might like shopping.’ She grinned. ‘That’s one of those building-block situations I was telling you about. He hates cities and shopping, she loves them—so they go somewhere in between.’ She surprised herself by harking back to a conversation she wanted to forget, but at least it distracted her from the unpleasant task that lay ahead.

‘I’m not sensing an element of compromise here...’

‘Well, the next time it’s her turn to give in and allow him more of what he wants.’

‘For instance...?’

Kate shrugged. ‘He might want to...I don’t know...go fishing, rent a cottage in the Cotswolds and have long walks, head up to Scotland to appreciate the wild, stunning scenery...’

‘My take is that that particular couple aren’t suited. She wants to shop...he wants to half freeze to death in the middle of nowhere to appreciate the scenery... It’ll end in tears. You wait and see...’

Kate laughed. Really laughed.

She felt all her concerns melt away and their eyes met. Her breath caught in her throat because she felt as if it was an intense moment, when something intangible had been shared. Though what, she couldn’t say. A shared sense of humour? A certain way they both had of finding the same thing funny...?

‘Here, it might make a little more sense. You don’t have to travel too far out of the city before you come slap-bang into some remarkable scenery...’

He began giving her a potted history of the place, telling her about its geographical splendours, the thousand and one sights that made it so special.

What the hell had happened just then? he wondered. He had got caught out by a curveball—had had the oddest sensation of stepping onto quicksand, a place where he was no longer in complete control but at the mercy of reactions and responses that went against the grain, against his rigidly imposed rules.

The hotel, when they finally arrived, was a modest building, with a car park in the front, sandwiched between a fast food restaurant and a shop advertising all manner of office supplies.

Kate could see that Alessandro was taken aback at the place George and his wife had chosen to stay for their vacation, but he said nothing as they walked through the glass revolving doors and straight to the reception desk, which was manned by a bored-looking girl, twirling her hair and chatting on her mobile.

Kate wondered whether they had chosen this spot because it offered access to the city but also access to the outlying countryside...pine forests, lakes...beautiful terrain to explore. She didn’t know what George and his wife did for fun, aside from family stuff with their kids and grandkids. Maybe they loved mountaineering, hiking...who knew...?

The blonde twirling her hair instantly hung up and straightened as they approached the desk.

Mr and Mrs Cape... Would she buzz through to them...? Tell Mr Cape that Alessandro Preda was in Reception and wanted to have a word with him...? Tell him that Kate Watson was there as well...?

The blonde shot Kate a covert look that simmered with envy.

‘Mr and Mrs Cape aren’t in.’ She didn’t need to consult the register for this information. ‘They leave at the same time every morning. Eight sharp. I can leave a message for them and get them to contact you—or you can leave a note and I’ll make sure they get it as soon as they’re back.’

‘Which would be at what time...?’

‘This evening. Six sharp.’

‘Unusual sightseeing activities that can be planned with such precision,’ Alessandro said with stinging sarcasm, and he received a shocked and surprised look from the blonde in response.

‘Can I ask whether you’re related to George and Karen?’

Alessandro raised his eyebrows expressively. Cosy relationship with the girl at Reception? he thought. Bit odd... Admittedly the hotel was only the size of a bed and breakfast. For all he knew that was exactly what it was, despite its grandiose name: the Ruskin Hotel. But still...

‘I’m his boss, and I’m here to see him on a business-related matter.’

‘If you’re his boss then I’m surprised... Didn’t he mention...?’

‘Mention what?’ Kate asked gently, reading sudden confusion in the receptionist’s blue eyes.

‘They go to the hospital every day. They’re allowed some leeway with the visiting hours, but they tend to stay there pretty much for the whole day, so that they can be there for Gavin and Caroline.’

‘Caroline’s their daughter...’ Kate turned to Alessandro, her mind a whirl. ‘Gavin’s their son-in-law. I know that because there’s a family photo on his desk...’

‘Right. Hospital. Perhaps you could tell us which hospital this is...?’

They arrived at the hospital in under an hour. It had been a largely silent journey. For the first time Alessandro had been caught on the back foot—handed information he had not been expecting...information that altered the straightforward situation he’d thought he would be dealing with.

Despite the fact that George and his wife had chosen to stay outside the city, the hospital was actually in downtown Toronto. Kate guessed that either the little hotel was very reasonably priced, or else they had some experience of being there before. Or maybe they just needed to be outside the main drag of a city to clear their heads at the end of the day.

A long day.

Because the days would be long. In the back of the car Alessandro had looked up the hospital on the internet, so they both knew that it was a centre for the treatment of sick children.

Now, as they approached the white-fronted building visible through a bank of trees, Alessandro turned to her and spoke for the first time.

‘This is not what I expected,’ he said roughly, raking fingers through his dark hair. ‘And you won’t be accompanying me into the hospital.’

‘Perhaps we should wait until they’re back at the hotel this evening. And I will be accompanying you, by the way.’

‘It wasn’t a suggestion, Kate. It was an order.’

‘And my answer wasn’t a suggestion either. It was a statement of fact.’ She sighed. ‘I’m very fond of George. He’s been good to me, and I want him to know that I’m here for him and his wife. Whatever the outcome of your...talk with him.’ She paused and looked at Alessandro’s averted profile. His beautiful eyes were veiled.

He turned to her before opening his door. ‘Stubborn.’

‘Yes, I can be.’ She stuck her chin out defiantly, prepared to go all the way into an argument, but there was no argument as he shrugged and stepped out of the car, waited for her to join him.

She wished she could reach into his head and see what he was thinking. She had the strangest urge to rest her hand on his forearm in a gesture of comfort, although she had no idea what she would be comforting him for—unless it was just for getting something wrong, for showing himself to be fallible like the rest of the human race.

She didn’t imagine that he liked being wrong. She thought that he had probably never been wrong about anything in his entire life—at least not when it came to business. In business—and this was a business matter after all—his judgement would always have been faultless.

‘Stubborn can sometimes be a good thing,’ he mused, glancing down at her.

‘What...what do you intend to do?’ she ventured, half running to keep up with him and longing for a bit of cool, because she was beginning to overheat in her outfit.

‘I intend to play it by ear...’

‘Can that sometimes be a good thing?’

‘I’ll let you know later. Can’t say it’s something I’ve ever done before.’

They entered the cool foyer of the hospital, and after that everything seemed to happen very quickly.

Alessandro commanded attention. How did that work when he wasn’t Canadian, wasn’t a doctor and had no connections to the hospital? It just did.

Within half an hour they knew where they could locate George, and after an hour and a half—during which time they sat in a very modern, very nice restaurant in front of cups of coffee, with Alessandro working via his smartphone and Kate pretending to be hard at it in front of her tablet—George came to meet them.

A wearily resigned George, who had obviously sussed why they had landed up in Toronto and at the hospital.

Kate’s heart went out to the older man. He was in one of his usual trademark brightly coloured outfits. She had always smiled at that. Even when he was in a suit his shirt was always jolly, his tie was always patterned, his hankies were always ridiculously gimmicky. He had told her once, laughing, that his wife chose his shirts, his daughter chose his handkerchiefs and his grandchildren chose his socks. So what chance did he ever have of looking debonair?

He seemed to have shrunk—or maybe she was only noticing that now because he looked so weary.

‘I know why you’ve come,’ were his opening words as he sat opposite them with a cup of coffee. He looked at Alessandro with resignation. ‘Of course I was going to be found out. I’d hoped that somehow I would have managed to start repaying what I... I want to say what I borrowed, but I realize, Mr Preda, that you probably won’t see it that way...’

‘You have no idea how I’m going to see it, George. So why don’t you start from the beginning and leave nothing out...?’

* * *

It was after six by the time their day was done. And every second of it had been spent at a high-voltage pace that had left Kate breathless, barely able to keep up.

Now, as she tripped along in Alessandro’s wake, she ran her fingers through her hair, which had unravelled, been scooped back up again, and then unravelled again—so heaven only knew what she looked like now. Not the consummate professional, she was betting.

‘Alessandro...’ she breathed, only realizing afterwards that it was the first time she had addressed him by his Christian name without feeling awkward.

Alessandro stopped en route to his very patient driver, who had been on call throughout the day and was probably as exhausted as she was.

He shot her an expressive and very wry look. ‘Well? Get it over and done with...’

‘What?’

‘A tender-hearted comment about my soft side... Have I turned into one of those, caring, sharing touchy-feely types who do foot massages for their loved ones every evening before running them a hot bath and cooking them a slap-up meal?’

‘I have seen a different side to you...’

‘Same side as always,’ Alessandro told her drily. ‘You’re just choosing to interpret it in a different way. There would have been no point prosecuting George.’

‘You did more than just not prosecute him,’ she pointed out.

But she wasn’t going to run away with a long explanation of exactly what had transpired over the past few hours. He might tell her that he had been as tough in his dealings as he always was, but he hadn’t.

George’s granddaughter was ill. Tears had sprung to his eyes as he had described the speed of little Imogen’s disease and their dismay when they had discovered that the prognosis in the UK was not favourable.

They had scoured the internet—searching for hope, really—and it had come in the form of a revolutionary breakthrough treatment in Toronto. But it was treatment that came at a price, and hence his dipping into money that didn’t belong to him. Because he had already used all his savings—every scrap of money that had been put aside for his retirement—on the initial consultations and the first lot of treatment.

Alessandro could have listened and stuck to the programme: You ripped me off and you’re out—save your excuses for the judge.

Even at her most optimistic she’d thought he might have acquitted George of blame, understood the extenuating circumstances and been sympathetic when it came to a repayment scheme.

Instead, he had not only heard the older man out and absolved him of having to repay the debt, but he had taken charge of everything. He had dealt with the bank, set up an account for George’s daughter, then spoken to the hospital, assured them that the treatment would be covered whatever the cost. He had also—and this had made her heart constrict—informed George that he would not have to see out his old age in penury.

Alessandro Preda, a hard man in the world of finance, a guy who was ruthless in his business dealings, had gone beyond the bounds of duty.

‘True,’ he agreed, stepping aside so that she could precede him into the car. ‘And of course he should have spoken to me before he did what he did...’ He sprawled back against the door, facing her, his handsome, lean face amused and speculative.

‘But all’s well that ends well...’ Kate inserted hurriedly. ‘Although we didn’t get to visit your client. Will that be on the agenda for tomorrow?’

‘Tell me you’re not about to stick on your business hat after the day we’ve had?’

Kate licked her lips, nervously aware of his eyes fastened to her face. She had completely forgotten throughout the course of the day that she had to be careful when she was around him. She had seen another side to him and had been swept away by the revelation.

Which didn’t change the fact that she still heartily disapproved of him on a number of fronts...

‘Because I’m too tired to start thinking about cutting deals...’

‘Of course.’

‘And I’m surprised you don’t feel the same.’

‘I suppose I could do with a little downtime...’

‘Splendid. Because tonight we’ll go out for dinner, do a little city exploring. We can both knock business on the head for a couple of hours—wouldn’t you agree?’

‘Dinner...? City exploring...?’ she asked, dry-mouthed.

‘Or you can call it “downtime”. Whatever you prefer. And you’re not going to be wearing a suit.’

‘But that’s pretty much all I—’

‘Then use the company account to buy something more suitable to wear. You have got a company account, haven’t you?’

‘Yes, but—’

‘Then it’s settled. Today has been a day full of surprises,’ he murmured, in a soft voice that was as devastating to her senses as a caress. ‘I’ve surprised you. Now it’s your turn to surprise me... Be someone more than just the prim and proper busy little bee. Do you think you can do that? Or is it too much of an ask...?’


CHAPTER SEVEN (#u29a44239-142c-584d-bdfb-84b94218c41c)

“IS IT TOO much of an ask?”

If he had just insisted on dinner, ignored her protests, basically commanded her to relax in his company, then reluctantly she would have agreed, because she would have had no choice. And she would have donned one of her various suits because it was vitally important to maintain the boundary lines between them.

Boundary lines that, yet again, were in danger of being breached.

But that amused, mocking, “Is it too much of an ask?” question had got her back up.

How buttoned up did he think she was? Did he imagine that she was incapable of ever letting her hair down? Did he think that she was such a dull Miss Prim and Proper, glued to her tablet, that she quailed at the prospect of shedding her work clothes and taking time out to be a normal young woman?

Or maybe he thought that she just quailed when the shedding of her work clothes threatened to take place in his company. The man might have shown her a side that was curiously empathetic in his dealings with George, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still the arrogant guy who took what he wanted from women and chucked them out when he decided the time had come to move on.

But if he insisted that she go shopping—that she use the company account to buy stuff she probably would never wear again—then why not?

Toronto was full of wonderful shops. Shops that lined the streets or were packed into malls.

It was still so hot outside that she opted for the Eaton Centre. She had no idea what she intended buying. It wouldn’t take long. She loathed shopping. It was just one of those things that needed doing now and again, under duress.

Her mother had been a shopper. Kate could remember being dragged from shop to shop, spending money they could ill afford on garish outfits. By the age of eleven she had grown accustomed to sitting outside changing rooms, her head firmly planted in a book, while her mother tried on clothes. It had been toe-curlingly embarrassing. She had so desperately wanted her mother just to...tolook like all the other mothers. How hard would that have been? Plain trousers? Tops that didn’t cling or have plunging necklines? Shoes that didn’t have five-inch heels and were never, ever worn with tight white jeans? How hard would it have been for her just to avoid wearing bright red?

Her mother had never complained at the little digs she had thoughtlessly inflicted over the years. The not-so-gentle hints that maybe she should tone it down. She had laughed and told her to loosen up a little—had tried to get her out of her jeans and baggy jumpers into the occasional dress. Shirley Watson might not have been good when it came to all the stuff Kate had considered crucially important, she might have failed to take the appropriate level of interest in parents’ evenings and homework projects, but she had never tired of trying to dress her up.

Kate had resisted all those efforts, and had continued doing so even when her mother had no longer been around, trying to steer her in a different direction from the one she wanted.

So now here she was.

And as she browsed through the shops she saw herself through her mother’s eyes. Always a little drab. Never making anything of what she had been given.

Those were Alessandro’s eyes also.

A streak of rebellion coursed through her, and as she shopped she was guiltily aware that she was enjoying shopping for maybe the first time in her life.

She wasn’t buying clothes to project the image she wanted the world to see. She was buying clothes because she liked the way they looked on her. Two dresses, a skirt that reached to mid-thigh, tops that had no buttons...and shoes that had heels and weren’t black.

Though she still avoided red.

She had no idea where they would be going after the ‘city exploring’ Alessandro had suggested, but she didn’t care.

She took her time soaking in the bath, washed her hair and left it loose, so that it tumbled down her back in a cascade of waves, and wore one of the dresses she had bought—a sleek, pale coral affair that did a little clinging. And she wore the high sandals she had bought too.

As she stared at her reflection in the mirror she could feel her heart beating wildly. Because this was not the Kate Watson she had spent her life cultivating.

This was a young woman who had a life—and an exciting one.

‘Okay...’ She grinned sheepishly at the stranger in the mirror. ‘So we both know that that’s a bit of an exaggeration—but what’s the harm in having a life for one evening? Dispelling the ideas Alessandro has about me? Mum, if you could see me now, you’d be proud.’

On the spur of the moment she took a selfie and sent it to her mother, and minutes later, as she headed down to meet Alessandro in the bar, she smiled at the response she got—which was a series of exclamation marks and smiley faces.

They had arranged to meet in one of the trendier bars in the hotel and it took her a few minutes to locate Alessandro, who was sitting at the back, shielded from view by the crowds of young people milling around.

Some of those young people were turning to look at her. Kate was conscious of that out of the corner of her eye, and it gave her a heady little thrill as she took some time to look at Alessandro...

He glanced up and there she was. For a few seconds Alessandro’s mind went completely blank. He had thrown down a challenge to her—dress like a woman and not like a robot—but he had doubted she would pick up the gauntlet. He had fully expected to see her in yet another tiresome version of ‘The Suit’, complete with discreet blouse buttoned all the way up, just in case a glimpse of her neck made her feel like a tart.

Not for a single passing second had he expected...

A vision.

He had seen her in a pair of shorts and a cropped top, but not even that had prepared him for just how beautiful she was when she stripped off the suit of armour.

She was tall anyway, but her heels escalated her to nearly six foot. Her long brown hair, streaked with shades of chestnut and deep gold, flowed down her back and over her narrow shoulders, and the dress, in some peachy colour that would have made most women look washed out, was glorious against her skin tone.

Glorious, and clinging in all the right places.

A surge of purely masculine appreciation kicked in with force. He watched as she glanced through the crowded bar, noticed as eyes were turned in her direction, realized that he wasn’t the only one in the room feeling a surge of purely masculine appreciation.

He relaxed back, half smiling as she sashayed towards him.

Who would have guessed that she could sashay? But then prissy, starchy suits weren’t conducive to sashaying, were they? Neither were sensible flat black pumps...

But a peach-coloured dress that lovingly cupped generous breasts, clung to a slender waist and fell to mid-thigh with a frilly little kick was definitely the stuff that sashays were made of...

He wondered whether it would be politically incorrect to insist in the contract for her promotion that she only wear clothes conducive to sashaying...

‘I see you went shopping...’ he said, rising to his feet as she approached him. In heels, she was almost at his eye level. Eye make-up. A charcoal colour on her lids that gave her a sultry, sexy look. And just a shimmer of lip gloss, emphasizing the fullness of her lips.

An inconvenient erection was making itself felt, pushing against his zipper.

‘You were right.’ Kate sat down hurriedly. Because, unusual and satisfying as it was to garner stares from other people, her prurient streak was just a little too insistent to ignore for very long. ‘My suits are way too formal and hot for the weather over here, so I’ve invested in one or two things...’

She discreetly tugged at the hem of the dress, which had ridden up and was exposing too much thigh for her liking.

‘Very wise,’ Alessandro murmured gravely. ‘Although you might have gone to the other extreme. If you plan on wearing sexy little numbers like this during the day...it might be a little too dressy...’

Kate’s breathing hitched and her eyes widened at the slow, lazy smile that lightened his features.

‘This is just a normal...er...dress,’ she stammered, mesmerized by the gleam in his eyes. ‘Nothing that any other woman in here isn’t wearing.’

Alessandro made a show of looking around him before resting his dark eyes on her flushed face. ‘But not many of them have the body to pull it off. You must know that.’

‘I...’

‘I admit I was a little surprised when I saw that you had taken me at my word. Aside from the time when I surprised you in your house, I honestly thought that your entire repertoire of clothes was comprised of suits in various shades of grey and navy...’

‘I don’t have much use for... I don’t usually...’

‘Paint the town red in snappy little numbers that attract attention?’

So what had she expected? That they would talk about work? When he had specifically told her that work was the last thing he wanted to think about after the day they had had with George and his sad, disturbing revelations?

‘I’ve never been one for going to clubs.’ She couldn’t conceal a shudder. ‘So, no, this is the one and only dress I have along these lines. Well, aside from the other one I bought today. Now I have two.’

‘Two? I don’t know why, but that strikes me as a little sad...’ He grinned, and she blushed and looked away.

‘You’re winding me up again, aren’t you?’

‘More stating a fact,’ Alessandro told her drily. ‘Maybe we should play truant tomorrow and go shopping again...’

‘Haven’t you made arrangements for us to visit the company that you’re interested in buying? I heard you on the phone when we were driving back from the hospital...’

‘Arrangements are made to be broken. The company isn’t going anywhere, and besides...’ he shrugged carelessly ‘...they’re keen to sell and they won’t find a better buyer than me.’

‘Well, thanks for the offer, but I’m all shopped out. It’s not something I do unless I have to, and—’

‘You really need to start living your own life, Kate, instead of the one prescribed by your mother’s lifestyle.’

He poured her a glass of wine from the bottle that was chilling in a cooler on the table. ‘Your mother liked shopping for clothes you deemed inappropriate, so your instant reaction was to dislike shopping and to dress in clothes your mother probably wouldn’t be seen dead in.’

Kate gulped down some wine and glared at him. ‘I’m getting paid to work while we’re over here,’ she pointed out.

He smiled at her. ‘And I’m telling you that you’re off the hook tomorrow. If you don’t tell, then I won’t.’

‘You like shopping? With a woman?’

‘In answer to question number one—can’t stand it. I have someone who knows the sort of clothes I wear. I leave it to her to stock my wardrobe.’

‘Who? Who does that?’

‘Let’s just say that a long time ago I went out with a woman who got a little more involved than she should have...’

‘You mean she wanted more than just a one-night stand?’

Kate couldn’t believe she had actually said that to Alessandro, but this whole expedition was beginning to take on a slightly surreal air—and, frankly, if he wanted to command her to relax, then he would just have to take the consequences. The thrill of being daring and reckless, of releasing some of her tightly wound strings, soared through her veins, making her giddy.

‘I don’t do one-night stands,’ Alessandro informed her.

Kate laughed aloud.

‘Where’s the joke in that? I’m missing it.’

‘I thought...I thought you were a guy who didn’t do long-term relationships?’

‘The opposite of long-term isn’t one-night stand. There’s a very happy middle ground—trust me. Now, drink up and let’s go out. I’ve asked the concierge for a couple of recommendations and he’s booked a restaurant for us within walking distance.’ He eyed her shoes. ‘Are you going to be mobile in those?’

Kate stuck out her foot and inspected it, turning it round in a circle. The shoes were wonderful. The first pair of high, strappy sandals she had ever owned.

‘Yes, you have a lovely foot,’ Alessandro told her. ‘Nice toes. Very good ankle. Would you like to twirl the other one for my inspection?’

‘I wasn’t fishing for compliments.’

‘Of course you were. Woman’s prerogative.’

‘They’re a little tricky to walk in...’

‘We’ll take it slowly—and if you feel yourself toppling over, don’t worry. I’ll catch you.’

Kate’s head filled with that thought. It was as if someone had switched on a lightbulb, illuminating dark corners and lots of murky thoughts she had been shying away from.

Alessandro Preda might represent everything she disdained, but he was sexy and he was charming—was it any wonder that she was attracted to him? Against all odds? For so many reasons it was all wrong. She worked for him. He was a player. He was way too good-looking, too rich and too self-assured for his own good. And, yes, she was inexperienced.

All those things combined into a heady mix—which was why, as they left the bar, she could feel a powerful thread of excitement racing through her veins, so that she was hyper-aware of him next to her, practically brushing her arm with his.

The restaurant was much further from the hotel than she had thought, and she could feel the steady burn of developing blisters as they navigated the crowds, but there was no way she was going to mention that to him. Besides, what could he do?

She sighed with relief as they entered the blessed cool of a fish restaurant and discreetly kicked off the sandals underneath the table as they sat down.

The backs of her feet stung and her toes were throbbing. Thank God he had begun to talk to her about the electronics company he wanted to take over, because she could plaster an interested look on her face and focus on that instead of trying to subdue the pain.

‘And so,’ Alessandro concluded, ‘the entire company was sucked into a black hole, to disappear into the ether...’

‘Absolutely!’ Kate chirped, tentatively feeling one blister with her toe and trying hard not to wince. ‘It’s such a good idea and I’m sure it’ll all work out. I’ll make sure to look up the company and do some research...er...later tonight...’

‘I’ve never been able to resist a woman who hangs onto my every word,’ he drawled. ‘Have you heard a word I’ve been saying for the last ten minutes?’

‘You were talking about the electronics company...’

‘Care to recap? Ah. Thought not. Tell me I’m not such a bore that you lost interest in my conversation after five seconds...?’

‘I’m sorry. I was miles away.’

‘Anywhere in particular?’

Yes, in a world of pain and agony where my only mission was to get hold of some blister plasters and paracetamol.

‘Nope. Just...just thinking about being here in North America... You know, I’ve done next to no travelling? I guess I was just overwhelmed by all the sights and sounds. I got lost filtering them all in my...’

Wine had been brought to them. When had that happened? She gulped down most of her glass in the hope of discovering some restorative or anaesthetic qualities to help her get through the evening without making a complete fool of herself.

‘You must have been abroad, though, at some point in your life...?’

‘Ibiza.’ She rolled her eyes and grimaced. ‘I took my mum.’

‘And?’

‘And it was...fun—although Mum did spend quite a bit of time flirting with the waiters.’ Kate laughed. ‘But, thinking about it, it really was fun. She made me put away every single textbook I had taken with me—I had been studying for exams—and she forced me to repeat that I was there to relax whenever I mentioned tax laws, or corporate finance laws, or profit and loss columns or dividends. She also made me wear my swimsuit without a great big tee shirt over it—even though I told her all about the dangers of too much sun and overexposure.’ She sighed and looked at him. ‘You must think me the last word in dull...’

‘Not dull, no. Just a little...cautious...’

‘And I guess you’ve never been cautious?’

‘None of us is exempt from being careful when it comes to certain situations,’ Alessandro murmured. ‘Now, choose whatever you want from the menu—and don’t be afraid to eat to your heart’s content. The concierge tells me that the chocolate brownie pudding on the menu is famous...’

Lots of very good food, far too much very good wine and Alessandro Preda as a dinner companion—it all went a long way to numbing the pain in her feet, and she only woke up to the reality that her blisters were still there, alive and kicking, as she wriggled her feet into the sandals at the end of the meal.

The walk was less than half an hour, the air was still warm and they weren’t jogging at speed—but every step was agony and it was only when the hotel was in sight that she heard herself give a soft moan, partly out of relief that her ordeal would soon be over, partly because she just couldn’t help herself.

‘What?’ she asked brightly when he stopped and looked at her narrowly.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing. Just taking it easy...enjoying the buzz... It’s very different from London, isn’t it? Not as hectic.’

Alessandro cocked his head to one side, then took his time looking at her, those clever dark eyes travelling the length of her body until they rested on her feet.

‘Hell!’ He stooped to examine her feet and she uttered a little shriek of mortification.

‘Get up!’ she whispered. ‘Please, Alessandro! People are looking at us! They’re going to think...to think that you’re proposing or something!’

‘To your feet?’ He glanced up at her and she kept her face firmly averted. ‘How long have you been in pain?’

‘I’m not in pain. My feet might be a bit sore because I’m not used to wearing heels. Or sandals...’

‘Good God, woman.’

He vaulted upright and then scooped her up in one fluid, easy movement. She squealed and clutched him, shocked rigid as he began striding towards the hotel while people turned to stare and laugh.

‘Put me down!’ she wailed. ‘Everyone’s staring!’

‘You worry too much about what other people think. And I’m not putting you down. I’m only just about hanging on to my temper. Why the hell didn’t you say something earlier?’

‘They were fine at the restaurant!’

It was hard to talk whilst trying to wriggle into some sort of position that wasn’t utterly humiliating. Was her underwear on display for everyone to have a look at? She wriggled frantically, ignoring his commands to keep still, hating him at that moment in time even if he had rescued her from having to hobble for the rest of the way.

‘Please put me down when we get into the hotel. I can manage from there.’

He ignored her and headed straight for the reception desk. In her head she could picture the curved marble counter, manned by banks of cruel, sniggering young girls, as she heard him ask for a comprehensive first-aid kit to be sent to his suite immediately. No, a doctor wouldn’t be required—just get the kit up to his quarters double quick.

She gave up protesting and clung to him, arms around his neck, fingers clasped, eyes squeezed tightly shut—because that way she could kid herself that none of this was happening.

She only opened her eyes when she was gently lowered onto his bed, and then she watched as he even more gently removed the offending sandals and cursed softly under his breath.

‘You’ve probably done your back in,’ was all she could find to say.

‘My back is fine—which is more than I can say for your feet. They’re raw.’

‘I’m not used to wearing heels. Or shoes like this.’

Embarrassment washed over her as he rested her aching, swollen feet on his lap and reached for the first-aid kit, which had already been placed on the bed.

‘You’re right. I should have mentioned earlier that I was developing one or two blisters... But, please, I can take care of this myself.’ It was a last desperate plea that she thought he might ignore—and he did.

His hands were so soothing... Kate closed her eyes and her breathing slowed as he dealt with her blisters, gently cleaning them, putting cool cream on them, and then the special plasters from the kit. Maybe blisters were a common occurrence here? she thought drowsily. Maybe every silly tourist took to the streets in inadequate footwear and returned to the hotel in need of a first-aid kit?

‘I had no idea that you were a doctor along with everything else,’ she murmured, joking because the silence was so intense and somehow so intimate.

‘I had planned on doing medicine, as a matter of fact...’





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