Kitabı oku: «Unwordly Secretary, Gorgeous Boss», sayfa 3

Even as he made the comment, Fabian knew his own preference usually ran to the more voluptuous feminine form. Yet he could not deny that Laura’s small frame was perfect for her fine, delicate bone structure.

‘I doubt it. I am well aware of how I look, and there is hardly anything to envy.’

Surprised by her self-deprecating reply, Fabian did not believe she’d said it to elicit his protest to the contrary. Yet he could not help but find it a puzzle that she seemed not to realise her own attraction. After all … a scar was just a scar. To him it hardly signified at all, yet he understood that for a woman it might not prove so easy to bear in the looks-obsessed culture that they lived in. About to turn away from her, he saw that she now had two spots of colour in her otherwise still pale cheeks.

‘Anyway … I promise I will make up for my small breakfast by eating a good lunch, so you need not worry that I might faint from hunger at your feet, Signor Moritzzoni!’

‘That would definitely not be good for my reputation, Laura,’ he answered dryly. ‘And, please … it is about time you started to call me Fabian. Formality only gets in the way when we are working so closely together.’

‘If that’s what you prefer. Now, there are a couple of things I need to ask you concerning the supper party after the concert.’ Turning back to her desk, she picked up a sheaf of paper and a pen.

There was something quite irresistible about the expression she got on her face whenever she was concentrating, Fabian realised. It had the strange effect of making all his muscles tighten with what he had to acknowledge was most assuredly sensual pleasure. He clenched his jaw a little as she approached. Her captivating summery scent reached him first, and he was genuinely perturbed that his reaction to her was so acute. It was an unexpected discovery that could no doubt lead to some unnecessary complications if not handled correctly.

‘What is it you want to know?’ he asked, frowning.

‘It’s about the protocol for the evening.’

To his further discomfiture, she came round to stand by his side, then crouched down low, so that he could clearly see the list of invitees with their various titles and designations. But all Fabian could really focus on right then was how her hair seemed to be woven through with dancing sunlight, and how with her small straight nose and delicate jaw her profile was like the most exquisite cameo …

‘Si.’ Taking the list out of Laura’s hands, Fabian heard the dismissive tone in his voice. ‘I will make some notes in English at the side of each name for you. In the meantime I have some important phone calls to make. This afternoon after lunch we will go through the entire plan and programme together, and find out exactly the state of play.’

‘That would be good. Thank you.’

He had said to Carmela that he hoped his new assistant would not expect him to hold her hand or guide her step by step, yet here he was—her desk conveyed to his office and a strangely inexplicable impulse in him not to leave her to cope on her own …

Moving away from him, she suddenly paused. ‘Your father must have loved music very much … and this is such an exquisite setting for such an event. Was it your idea to hold a concert in his memory each year?’

Stunned by the question, Fabian stared hard at Laura. A muscle throbbed in his cheek and for a long moment he struggled to stem the swift tide of resentment that flowed through his bloodstream. ‘Music meant a lot to him, yes. He considered himself an avid aficionado of the opera. He considered himself an expert in many things as a matter of fact! But holding the concert was not my idea. Far from it! My father left instructions in his will. Even in death, Roberto Moritzzoni wanted to ensure that he was not forgotten. He did not easily let go of his possessions or his life.’

‘I see.’

‘I doubt that you do, Laura. But perhaps one day before you leave the Villa De Rosa … I will explain.’

Moving his coffee cup out of the way, Fabian concentrated his focus on the list of dignitaries in front of him. They were all—with the exception of some of the key performers in the concert—ex cohorts of his father’s who still ‘milked’ their association with Roberto Moritzzoni for all it was worth. As if they had not dined in the style of kings enough throughout the years at the expense of Fabian’s family! At that moment he honestly felt like putting a lighted match to that damned list and having done with it. Glancing up, he saw that Laura had quietly made her way back to her desk, her attention captured by whatever was on the computer screen in front of her. What would Roberto have said if Fabian had introduced someone like her to him as his wife-to-be? He could hear the old man’s mocking laughter even now, after all these years, at the thought that he would even entertain such an absurdity! Everything about her would have been wrong, he realised—starting with the fact that she was not Italian. Add to that the probability that she had no important or useful family connections—that would be two more strikes against her suitability. As for her looks and figure—Roberto would no doubt have disparagingly dismissed her as too pale, too thin, and not maternal or voluptuous enough to be the bearer of his grandchildren …

‘Bigoted old fool!’ he muttered savagely beneath his breath.

‘Is something the matter?’ At the other side of the sun-filled room, Laura studied him in surprise. ‘You seem upset,’ she pressed, when he did not immediately reply.

‘You are right. I am upset. Thinking about my father usually ensures that reaction. He was not the most—shall we say … pleasant of men, Laura. He could be quite cruel in fact … especially to those that were closest to him. Does that shock you?’

Her sweetly shaped mouth turned down a little and her big eyes looked concerned. ‘Cruelty always shocks me … even though I know it is hardly rare in the world.’

Fabian grimaced. ‘Then let us change the subject and think about something more pleasant. If you want to restore my good mood, perhaps you would be kind enough to go and get me some more coffee?’

‘Of course. I’ll go and find Maria and get you some.’

She was on her feet immediately, her shy gaze touching him briefly as she left the room, and as Fabian watched her go he was filled with a longing that he didn’t dare examine too closely. The kind of longing that could definitely play havoc with their fledgling boss/secretary relationship.

CHAPTER FOUR

SOME of Fabian’s well-heeled friends turned up unexpectedly for lunch, and he insisted that Laura join them. They ate al fresco, at a table on another spectacular terrace overlooking a lush sea of olive groves. The sun shone and the wine flowed, and although her boss showed an interest in the conversations that went on around him—even occasionally laughing or smiling with his companions—Laura detected that his mind was not entirely focused on the present.

As she cut a sweet red apple into neat quarters and bit into one, she recalled his surprising comments about holding the concert in his father’s memory. The revelation that he had been a cruel man had disturbed her—mostly because of how that must have affected the young Fabian, growing up. Now that she’d gleaned his relationship with Roberto had been less than idyllic—and that obviously this concert held in his memory was reminding him of the fact—she wasn’t surprised that Fabian’s thoughts appeared to be elsewhere. She couldn’t begin to imagine the money, time and effort it took to organise one of these impressive events—and how much must he be resenting that if it was something he did out of duty and not love? Could it be that he was willing the whole event to be over instead of anticipating it with pleasure?

Her curiosity and concern deepening, Laura lifted her gaze—only to find it on a collision course with Fabian’s. Next to her, an Italian count with an unpronounceable name laughed hard at a joke he had made—but she barely registered the sound because once again she’d dived into that flawless blue ocean and found herself short on oxygen. Expecting him to say something, she was honestly deflated when he didn’t, but simply glanced away again and started talking to the elderly gentleman beside him.

‘Lo zio, Fabian!’

A small girl with glossy brown pigtails and eyes the colour of luscious cocoa appeared at the top of the terrace steps, ran towards the table and climbed onto Fabian’s lap. Weaving her sturdy brown arms around his neck, she buried her head into his chest.

‘Cybele!’

There followed an affectionate demonstration of delight bar none from Fabian, and Laura watched him make a fuss of the child with a sense of almost dizzying surprise and pleasure that she couldn’t deny. They made the most compelling tableau—the man with the kind of masculine beauty that would haunt you to your grave and the enchanting dark-haired child—and an old longing swept through her heart and made her want to weep, because she knew it would probably never be realised. A longing that had been almost utterly destroyed by a relationship turned dramatically wrong.

Everyone around the table was either applauding or making some admiring comment about the child’s beauty and their host’s obvious pleasure in her company. Simply for being herself, the child commanded all their attention. But that was just as it should be Laura thought smiling.

‘Scusa, Signor Morittzoni?’

Now Maria appeared at the top of the steps, puffing and clearly out of breath in her sombre black dress, a delicate lace handkerchief mopping the perspiration that beaded her brow. From what followed, Laura gathered that Cybele was her grandchild, come for a visit. Delighted to learn that Fabian was home, she had rushed ahead to find him.

Fabian told Maria not to worry. He was more than happy to see the child, and asked if she would like to stay and have some food with them. Maria thanked him, but insisted that Cybele go with her and let the grown-ups enjoy their meal in peace. The child went reluctantly, waving goodbye until she and her grandmother finally disappeared from view.

‘What a gorgeous little girl!’ Laura remarked.

‘You like children, signorina?’ The elderly man next to Fabian leant towards her across the table, the thin, faintly bloodless lips beneath his military-style moustache curving in a knowing smile. ‘Yes, I do. Very much.’

‘Then you will make a perfect mamma! But first you need a husband, si?’

There was a chorus of approving laughter, and as Laura tried to field the wave of embarrassment that swept over her at suddenly being the centre of so much attention Fabian’s penetrating gaze seared into hers with undisguised interest. But he said nothing.

‘Put everything on hold for while … we are going out.’

Re-entering the office after a short but necessary meeting with Maria and her kitchen staff—Laura stared at Fabian in surprise. She got the distinct sense that he’d been pacing and thinking hard about something in her absence, and the tousled appearance of his golden hair indicated he’d tunnelled his impatient fingers through it several times.

‘Where?’

‘I am taking you to visit the hospice that the concert is being held in aid of. It will be a good opportunity for you to see for yourself the necessity for such a valuable organisation to continue to receive our help.’

‘Well, then …’ She hovered in the doorway, taken aback by the impromptu nature of this planned visit, as well as by the overwhelming idea of seeing children who were suffering and sick and in some cases dying. Already Laura’s senses were clamouring in sympathy and trepidation. ‘If you just give me a minute I’ll go and get my jacket.’

She hardly registered the helicopter ride to the simple whitewashed group of buildings set deep in the Tuscan hillside. During the short journey, both she and Fabian had lapsed into thoughtful silence, mutually respected and understood. She had questions, without a doubt—but for now they would have to keep.

On their arrival at the hospice they were greeted by a joyful elderly nun—Sister Agnetha—who welcomed Fabian with a beaming smile and a fiercely affectionate hug. The sight made Laura’s legs feel unaccountably wobbly. There was no sense of awkwardness or embarrassment evident in him at all, and his arresting eyes clearly reflected his genuine heartfelt pleasure at the reunion. The man was beginning to intrigue her more and more.

Once inside, they were guided from ward to ward, room to room, and in every case Fabian sat on the edge of the sick child’s bed and conversed with him as though he were a personal relative, and the children responded in kind—their delight at seeing him palpable, even though they were so ill. For his part, during those encounters a myriad of emotions crossed his startlingly handsome face. Laura saw sympathy, kindness, humour and love written there. At times during the visit, her heart was so full she could barely speak.

It was well into the evening when they emerged from the hospice, and the night was silky soft and fragrant with the rich natural scent of the stunning Tuscan countryside. Laura couldn’t help but think that on such a night all should be well in the world … there shouldn’t be innocent children suffering and dying. She bit her lip and could not bring herself to look at Fabian in case he saw her distress. After receiving an affectionate goodbye hug from Sister Agnetha herself she knew her mind and emotions were swamped with impressions and feelings both raw and tender, and her already tenuous grip on her self-control was under serious threat.

‘Are you all right?’ Fabian asked gruffly at her side in the helicopter, as the powerful rotor blades roared into action and lifted them off the ground.

‘Yes, I’m fine,’ she said, turning her face away to stare out of the window at the fast disappearing earth below.

There had been babies as well as older children there. That was the sight that had almost completely undone her. What was the point of such short desperate lives full of suffering? She could only imagine what agony their parents were going through. Yet the staff at the hospital had been full of smiles and humour, and some of the less ill children had responded with ready laughter to Fabian’s teasing and joking around. This side of his character had been a wonderful revelation to Laura, and she was still reeling from the evidence of it.

‘It is hard the first time to see the little ones in such a condition,’ he said thoughtfully, his voice raised to compete with the almost deafening sound of the rotor blades. ‘But they are so brave … so strong. The least we can do is make sure that they have every facility and comfort available to alleviate their situation as much as possible. Here …’

Finding a large white handkerchief pressed into her hand, Laura dabbed disconsolately at the tears she suddenly couldn’t hold back, vaguely aware of the scent of Fabian’s arresting cologne on the soft linen square crumpled in her palm. Still she couldn’t speak.

‘It is late and we have not yet eaten. I will get the pilot to take us to one of my favourite little restaurants so we can have dinner and talk … si?’

She managed a nod and the wobbliest of smiles. The smile Fabian delivered to her in return stole her breath away with the sheer dazzling power of its beauty and warmth.

‘You were so easy with the children … so natural.’ Laying down her fork on the pristine tablecloth, Laura held his gaze almost reluctantly.

Fabian sensed she was still self-conscious about the emotional response that she hadn’t been able to contain during and after their visit to the hospice, but her reaction only confirmed to him that she would make the most caring of mothers herself. The thought was at the forefront of his mind when he finally responded to her quiet observation.

‘It is not difficult to be oneself with children, no? They are just themselves, and so that makes it easy. And these particular little ones are such an example of courage and strength in the face of adversity that it humbles one … it truly does.’

The visit had also reminded him why he went on with the concert year after year—even though the event had been instigated by a father who had not been the best of examples, and memories of Fabian’s own painful childhood were inevitably stirred by it’s existence.

‘Clearly you have a great bond with children yourself, Laura … Motherhood is something that you must have considered from time to time?’

Taking a deceptively relaxed sip of the fragrant red wine he had ordered with their meal, he realised that there was definite tension inside him as he awaited her response. A faint becoming flush bloomed on her cheeks as she glanced away from him, and he glimpsed sadness in her eyes before she tore her gaze free to stare out at the twinkling lights of the town below.

Situated on a charming terrace high on the hillside, the restaurant had a view that was breathtaking and magical. The cuisine was also exceptional, which was why it had fast become one of Fabian’s favourite places to dine when he was back home.

‘Laura?’ Knowing he had triggered something hard to bear inside her, he felt the tension in the pit of his stomach grow.

‘I would love to be a mother,’ she answered quietly, returning her glance warily to his. ‘I didn’t tell you before but … I was married up until just over two years ago.’

Married? Shock and surprise imploded inside him. Carmela had not acquainted him with such a startling piece of information—but then why should she?

‘My husband died. We were in a car accident, and unfortunately he was killed outright.’

‘Please accept my condolences.’

Even as he voiced the stilted-sounding words, Fabian duelled with feelings of relief as well as regret that Laura had suffered such a shocking event. Relief that she had survived and—if he was honest—relief that she had a husband no longer …

‘Thank you. I wanted children—of course I did. But my husband, he …’ She folded her hands on the tablecloth, interlinking her ringless fingers with an agitation she wasn’t quick enough to disguise. ‘He didn’t feel the same way.’

Lifting her glass, she drank some wine, as though striving to contain whatever bruising memories had surfaced inside her. When she returned it to the table again she looked slightly calmer. But Fabian wasn’t fooled. It must have been devastating to a woman who loved children as she did to be with a man who had not shared that feeling.

‘And the accident did not affect your ability to bear children in the future?’ he heard himself ask.

‘Thankfully, no. Broken bones … cuts and bruises … that was the extent of my injuries. I’m lucky there was no internal bleeding, or anything that could have caused a major problem.’

She had escaped being killed in a car crash, had lost her husband and been left with physical scars as well as psychological ones, no doubt—and she thought herself lucky?

‘I am sorry that I have inadvertently raised a subject that brings you so much pain and sorrow.’ His hand moved across the table to cover hers. It was deathly cold. ‘The visit to the hospice clearly upset you far more than I had envisaged, but I did not know beforehand that you had your own personal tragedy to endure.’

‘How could you have known? But don’t think for one second that I regret going. It makes me want to work even harder to help make this concert the very best it can be! Thank you for giving me the opportunity to meet those wonderful children. I’ll always remember them.’

‘Now you must eat something. Food and wine can help in times like these. And if we do not look as though we are enjoying our meal my good friend Alberto, who owns this restaurant will think we do not like it and will worry that he has done something wrong!’

It wasn’t until he glanced downwards that Fabian saw he was still holding Laura’s hand, and she had made no move to dislodge it.

She had wondered what Fabian’s incredible hands might look like holding a child, and since yesterday at the hospice, and before that with Maria’s granddaughter Cybele, she had seen for herself. Now Laura could hardly get the image out of her mind.

Her thoughts were thus occupied when he came up behind her at the photocopier, and Laura sensed the air crackle with the electricity of his presence. She didn’t turn around.

‘You are very quiet today. Is anything wrong?’

Pressing the keypad to issue further copies she did not really need, Laura hid behind the confusion of noise to disguise her feelings—disturbing feelings that she barely knew what to do with.

‘I’m fine! There’s nothing wrong. I’m just concentrating on my work, that’s all.’

‘You are still perhaps upset at seeing the children yesterday? It is completely understandable and nothing to try and hide.’

To Laura’s disconcertment she felt his hands come to rest on either side of her hips, the contact all but burning her through her thin silk dress. Heat descended like soft, intoxicating warm rain on skin laid bare to its touch.

‘I like this dress you are wearing,’ he murmured softly behind her, his warm breath stirring her loosened hair.

Sucking in her own breath, she felt shock and pleasure roll through her with equal force. He’d already filled her with myriad longings by the touch of his hand holding hers last night at dinner to comfort her, but this … this had to be the sweetest, most sensual torment she’d ever experienced!

‘It’s nothing special.’

‘On the contrary. Do you really not realise how enticing it is?’

The touch of his lips at the place where her neck sloped down into her collarbone made Laura gasp out loud. She was glad she was standing next to something she could lean on, because all of a sudden her limbs had no bones to hold her upright.

‘Fabian … you shouldn’t be—please don’t do that!’

With a supreme effort she forced herself to move, to turn around and face him, and was stunned to see the liquid heat that blazed back at her from his azure eyes. A heat that confirmed to her it was desire that interested him right now … not the demands of the concert or running his estate or anything else. It had been a long time since Laura had thought of herself as desirable, and it was hard to believe a man like him would look at her that way … as if he could eat her up with just a glance!

‘You looked so pretty … so fragile and thoughtful … as you stood there with the sunlight glinting in your hair. I could not resist you!’ His fingers tipped up her chin. They were hard, warm and insistent, so that she had no choice but to face him. ‘Do not be afraid of me, Laura … I would never do anything to hurt you.’

‘I—I know that. Look, I’d really better get back to work. The list of things to do seems to be growing ever longer, and time isn’t standing still!’

She broke away from him so abruptly she nearly fell over a nearby chair, and with her face flaming with embarrassment she bolted from the room before Fabian could stop her.

He had mulled over the stunning and perhaps crazy idea he’d had over and over again until finally—restless and slightly agitated from its relentless demand—he’d left Laura amid the detritus of organisation and gone for a walk.

The Moritzzoni family estate included several hundred acres of fertile land around the villa, and Fabian had headed off deep into the hills, uncaring that the afternoon sun laid its hand upon his unprotected head like an overheated iron. Eventually driven to seeking some shade, he’d dropped down onto his haunches beneath a dense grouping of trees, and now he wiped the sweat from his brow and the back of his neck with an unconnected, distracted air.

A compelling picture stole into his mind … the soft, melting glance on Laura’s face when Cybele had appeared during lunch yesterday. And when his old friend Lachimo had made that comment about her making a perfect mother Fabian had felt an answering leap of confirmation deep in his gut. Later on in the day, when they’d visited the children at the hospice, another layer of admiration and approval of her maternal instincts had been beguilingly reaffirmed.

Perhaps it wasn’t so crazy after all to contemplate the route that had become almost too persuasive to ignore? If he were going to commit to such an undertaking at all then he would much prefer it to be with a woman who had no connection with his past or his family. That way it would be a completely fresh start for both of them. A woman who genuinely appeared to love children as well as sharing his own passion for music might be persuaded to see that the idea had much to commend it—despite her avowed uninterest in wealth. Their partnership would not be complicated or sullied by the kind of emotional entanglement that Fabian wanted to avoid at all costs. Yet there would be physical consolation too. He recalled how aroused he’d been when he’d kissed her neck and felt her delightful body quiver through her thin dress. What if she really did turn out to be the solution he’d been searching for?

From the moment he pushed to his feet again and swept his sweat-dampened hair off his brow he had convinced himself that he should not let this potential opportunity to realise the thing he wanted most—an heir—slip away.

Working late into the evening again, Laura was surprised when Fabian returned to the office to rejoin her after dinner. He had said little during the exceptional stracotto di fagiano that Maria had served up for them, and continued to wear that same distracted, pensive air about him that he’d worn yesterday at lunch. Now he paced the floor as Laura endeavoured to tick off the myriad jobs she’d managed to accomplish that day, though it was practically impossible to ignore his eye-catching physique in fawn coloured chinos and sky-blue linen shirt as he walked back and forth in front of her. It was even more impossible not to let her gaze rest upon his perfectly shaped, highly erotic tanned bare feet as he did so …

Withdrawing her fingers from the keyboard, she flexed them a little, sensing a trickle of perspiration meander sluggishly down her back. It was as though invisible strings were pulling her attention back to him every time she tried to look away, and the fact that she couldn’t resist played on her mind. Given that she had made a spectacularly wrong choice about a man once before, her interest troubled her deeply.

‘Is there anything I can do for you?’ she asked now, her softly modulated voice sounding almost too loud in the quiet room.

‘No.’ He stared at her as though in a trance.

‘It’s just that you seem so—’

‘Si,’ he said abruptly, suddenly approaching her desk and leaning his hands on it.

Suddenly his compelling face was right in front of hers, and Laura saw the shadowed imprint that cleft his strong chin with such definition, and the faint but discernible threads of maturity that waved on his brow. As for his too-disturbing gaze—Laura did her best to skim over it, lest she willingly drown in that perfect river of blue.

‘I would like you to take a walk with me.’

‘Now?’

‘ Si. You have not had an opportunity to see the grounds properly yet, and we should go before the light dies. Fetch a wrap or shawl, if you have one, and I will meet you at the front entrance.’

In the end, it didn’t matter that it was almost dusk. Nearly everywhere Laura glanced were softly glowing lanterns and fairy lights, and the extensive grounds of the impressive Villa de Rosa took on a quality of enchantment that would ensure she never forgot the breathtaking impression it made for as long as she lived.

‘We will stop here for a moment.’

Fabian touched her arm and Laura sensed the contact sear through the delicate lace of her antique shawl, permeate her skin and reach down inside the very marrow in her bones. Ever since he’d kissed her neck she was like the most inflammable tinder to his touch. All her defences seemed to be in tatters where he was concerned.

They were standing by a weathered wooden bench positioned against an aging brick wall, and the glorious scarlet bougainvillaea that tumbled over it sang its seductive perfume to the gentle night air.

‘We will sit for a while.’

‘Something is bothering you, isn’t it? Is it anything to do with the organisation of the concert?’

‘No. I can see that you have everything under control where that is concerned, and I am impressed by what you have accomplished so far and your dedication to doing a good job.’

As he laid his hand on her knee, she saw the stunning gold and emerald signet ring on his little finger glint in the softly diffused light.

‘Then what is it?’

‘I have been thinking that we should get to know each other a little better.’

Hardly prepared for such a statement, Laura stayed quiet. But, even so, wave upon wave of heat coursed through her in a seemingly unstoppable flow.

‘What I mean is, this is a good opportunity for us to talk. Why don’t you start by telling me a little bit more about yourself? I know that you went to school with Carmela in London, that you have the most surprisingly angelic voice and have a passion for teaching music to children. What else?’

Laura’s mind seemed to freeze for a moment. Telling him more about herself would inevitably bring up the past again, and she’d really like to avoid that if she could.

‘Laura?’ His voice was edged with slight impatience.

‘I was just thinking. What kind of things would you like to know?’

As soon as the question left her lips she knew it was the wrong one. She’d been trying to buy time and it had backfired on her. Now she’d left herself wide open, perhaps to some too dangerous examination.