Surprised by Love (18 page)

“I didn’t think damn jet-ski,
amore. 
I
just wondered whether that was more important to you than being with me, and
suddenly I felt a chill—in my feelings, I mean—and I just wanted to go to sleep.”

“Most understandable,” he soothed.  “On our
mini-honeymoon I shouldn’t have been planning a solo activity for early the
next morning.  Am I forgiven?”

Connie smiled.  “Nothing to forgive,
Alesssandro.  I’m sorry I was a bit oversensitive.  Am I forgiven?”

He tightened his embrace, fitting their bodies
together for sleep.   She sighed luxuriously.  After a little
while, she asked, “Think you can sleep now?”

Soft, regular breathing was her only answer.  She
smiled. 
He must’ve been really tired.  I must insist that he go
on that jet-ski thing tomorrow.
 She sank into him a little more,
which was her way of preparing for sleep
.  Ah, my beautiful
Alessandro—my fabulous lover… 

Moments later, she was also asleep, her hand on his
groin, her thumb caressing his skin.

Chapter
17.

All too soon, it was Monday, and after one last ride
on a Wave Runner, Connie and Alessandro drove back home.

****

The next day, they were breezing through Reception on their
way to their offices, when Connie saw a beautiful, dark-haired woman,
exquisitely dressed, get up from a chair.  She walked toward Alessandro,
one hand stretched out to his arm, as if to halt his progress and make him stop
to talk to her.

“Alessandro…”  A soft, hesitant voice.

He turned, and Connie saw his eyes widen.

“Renata?”  He sounded incredulous.

The soft voice went on, “Of course Renata.”

Alessandro sounded amazed.  “You’re a lot thinner
than…”

“When we were a couple?” she responded.  “Yes, I
know.  Looking after my dying Papà was not as easy as it usually is
described in books.”

Initially, Connie was surprised that Alessandro hadn’t
introduced the woman to her—now, she was no longer surprised.  Evidently
someone from his past who had mattered to him.  Turning away, she muttered
something about a phone call—and realized that neither Alessandro nor this
Renata had heard her.  Shrugging, she went to the elevator, deciding to
deal with whatever this was once she and Alessandro were alone.

Alessandro gazed after Connie, frowning, then he
returned his attention to Renata.  “Come into my office.” 

He walked with her to the elevator, and they went the
one floor up to his office.  He gestured to the conversation grouping of
deep chairs in the far corner, saying “Please sit down.  Would you like
coffee?”

“Yes, please.  Thank you.”

Alessandro buzzed Diane.  “Coffee for two,
please?”  He turned back to Renata.

Her voice sounding reproachful, she said, “When I got
back to Florence, and rang your penthouse, I was told that you were not home
and not expected.  Luckily I met your Nonna a few days later at my
sister’s coffee party for our Nonna, whose birthday it was—I’m sorry to say she
is no longer well enough for real parties, so this coffee get-together was our
compromise.  Your Nonna told me you had gone to America—she didn’t know
for how long.”  She gazed at Alessandro, her eyes accusing.  “I
expected you to call me, but you never did.  What happened?”

I’d better tell it like it is. 
“I
was very busy, and was fortunate in engaging a Personal Executive Assistant who
was absolutely perfect at her job.”

Quickly, Renata pounced.  “
Her
job? 
Oh wait, that must be what Marisa meant when she said you were involved with
your secretary?”

Frowning, Alessandro said, “As usual, Marisa
deliberately had the story wrong.  I was never involved with Connie, the
way Marisa meant.  And as I just told you, Connie is my personal executive
assistant, a far cry from a secretary.  Anyway, after a while, we realized
what there was between us, and I proposed.  She accepted.  We were
married last Friday.  The lady I walked in with is my wife.”

Renata’s eyes widened.  “Married?  You
married someone else, when we were so very close?  How could you!”

 “Renata, be reasonable.  You said just now
that you thought we were a couple, but in fact we merely dated for a few
weeks.  I hadn’t seen you in months when I had to go to America on
business.”  He frowned impatiently at Renata’s stricken look. 
Striving to sound calmer than he felt, he went on. 

“You didn’t keep in touch, so I didn’t either. 
For heaven’s sake, you couldn’t have taken our lighthearted affair as a prelude
to a wedding?”

 “Of course I did!  You slept with me! 
Oh, I am so humiliated…”  Renata dug in her handbag for a tissue, blotted
her eyes and ran out of the office—all but colliding with Diane and the
coffee.  With an indistinct sob, she dodged around Diane, who walked to
the conversation area and set the coffee tray down at Alessandro’s elbow. 

“Thanks, Diane,” he said, pouring two cups, taking
them into Connie’s office.

“I ordered coffee for my guest, but she ran away when
I told her we were married last Friday,” he said.  “Will you have the
second cup?”

Connie nodded.  “Thank you.  Did Alice see
you with the coffee?”

He shrugged. “Yes, she must’ve.”

Connie smiled.  “Good.  Then she won’t order
more coffee for me.”  She indicated her conversation grouping by the
window.  “Let’s sit there for a moment.”

When they were seated, she said, “Do you want to talk
about her?”

“Not particularly,” he said quietly.  “We dated
for a while, then she left for Rome to take care of her ailing father. 
This is the first time I’ve seen her since.”

Connie nodded.  “And she thought you’d waited for
her all this time?”

“How did you guess?”  Alessandro was surprised.

“She seemed a very nice, well brought up lady. 
Such women often expect the lightest flirtation to lead to a wedding.”

“That was never on the cards,” Alessandro said
tranquilly and proudly.

“I hope she won’t become clingy, refusing to accept
that we are married,” Connie hazarded a guess.

“Wouldn’t do her any good if she did become clingy—do
you for one moment believe I would allow that?” 

She gave him a dazzling smile.  “I know you
wouldn’t.  All the same, these very nicely brought up ladies can be very
persistent.  If she knows I worked for you at one time…”  she raised
a slim, elegant brow when she saw Alessandro’s frown.  “She does?” Connie
asked.

Alessandro nodded.  “Yes, Marisa told her I was
‘involved’ with my secretary.  I soon corrected her on that.”

Connie shook her head.  “
Caro,
in her view
I’m still an employee, a bit of an upstart employee who tricked you into
marriage.  A
mésalliance—
you have married beneath your status and
she will help you put that right.  Offer me some money for a quick
divorce, and then she will shine at your side as your rightful, proper
wife.  Trust me on this, that is how she views me and our marriage.”

Deeply upset, Alessandro growled, “Then she had better
learn different very quickly, because I will not have you run into the ground
by anyone.”

Connie touched his hand lightly.  “Let Nonna know
what happened.  She will invite her—and will make things clear to her.”

 Alessandro shrugged.  “I doubt even Nonna
could make things clear to a Tevere-Borghese.”

 “Is that her name?  It sounds very
upscale.”

“It is—a princely family.  A very distant branch
of the Borgheses, but of course they cling to the name.  Just the same,
she will learn that I am married to you because I chose you to be my
wife.  If I have to, I’ll tell her that I would never have chosen
her.  She is the kind of woman one invites to a reception, a dinner party,
because she is bound to be a good guest, she’ll chat with bores, charm
everybody with her smile—that kind of thing.  A man approaching forty
might marry her because she would be an asset as a wife—his feelings might be
luke-warm.”  He turned the full charm of his dazzling smile on her. 
“You are the wife I want, Connie—the wife I chose with my heart and the passion
I feel for you.   Renata had better learn that—the sooner, the
better.”

“You have the nicest manners,” she whispered. 

“That isn’t manners, it’s the truth.  You are the
only woman I could ever have considered being married to.”

 “As you are the only man I could imagine being
my husband.”

“Drink your coffee, we can’t stay here all day, we
have work to do.”

“Yessir, sorry for dragging my feet.”  Connie’s
mouth twitched as she took both cups and preceded him from her office. 

“Will you take these back, and the tray from Mr.
Montedalcino’s office, Alice?”

“Sure, Ms. Sherwood.  I guess you don’t want any
more coffee.”

“Right, Alice.  Thank you.”

Behind her, she heard Alessandro’s seductive, husky
baritone.  “How soon do you think you can get done here?”

“Soon,
caro.”
  He was out of Alice’s line
of vision, and she felt him patting her derrière.  

“Better make that very soon.”

“I will, Alessandro.”

****

When they were sitting on the terrace of the
penthouse, each with a flute of
Krug,
their landline buzzed.  “I’ll
get it,” said Alessandro, and reached for the receiver.  “Yes?”

He frowned when he heard the breathless voice of
Renata.  “Alessandro, I’m so sorry I got so upset and…”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said calmly.  “I did not
realize my news would be upsetting to you, but nevertheless that is the
truth.  Please understand that I married Connie because I wanted to, not
because I was coerced, or had to, or whatever you are imagining.” 

He took a deep breath.  “I am delighted to be
married to Connie, and we are ideally happy.  Please accept that, and
don’t try to rekindle embers that weren’t that hot in the first place.”

“But Alessandro!  You are a Count, I am a
Princess.  Your wife is a commoner—an employee of your conglomerate.”

His voice, which had been cool, became several degrees
frostier.

“That is a deeply erroneous description, Renata. 
There is nothing common about my wife, but I find your snobbish clinging to
titles very common. Connie was never an employee of my conglomerate.  She
was and still is my personal executive assistant, reporting only to me. 
Let’s leave it at that, shall we?  Goodbye, Renata.”

“No, Alessandro, no!”  But he hung up on her in
mid-lament.

“I think I should tell you that you were right on the
mark,” he observed to Connie. 

“Renata.”  When he nodded, she went on, “That was
the first move in her campaign to get you back?”

Alessandro nodded ruefully.  “You heard what I
said.”

She nodded.  “Yes.  Was her first line of
attack the fact that you and she are both aristocrats and I’m a commoner?”

He frowned, distressed.  “You also heard what I
said, and I meant every word.  Please don’t let her snobbish remark upset
you.”

Connie smiled.  “It doesn’t, and I heard what you
said—thank you,
amore. 
I just hope she isn’t going to hang about
here for some time, trying to infiltrate our circle of friends.”

Alessandro nodded.  “If she ever discovers we are
friends with Tom and Jeff, she’s going to buy paintings, and have them sent to
Italy, to the
palazzo
of the Princess Renata Tevere-Borghese.”  He
grinned derisively at his wife.  “She actually lived in a small Florence
apartment when we dated, but no doubt she inherited her father’s country house
near Rome.  It is
not
a palace, trust me.”

“Should we warn Tom and Jeff?”

Alessandro shrugged.  “Tom is bright enough to
handle her without warning.  I like your other idea much better. 
Let’s ask Nonna to deal with her.”

Connie frowned. “On second thought, I hate to let this
determined woman loose on poor Nonna—who may well get very upset if Renata
unfolds a determined campaign to get you back.”

He nodded thoughtfully.  “There is that. 
All right, I’ll phone Tom and ask him to be protective of Nonna if Renata
should visit her.”

Connie smiled comfortably.  “You do that. 
When’s dinner?”

“Are you hungry,
carissima?” 

She shook her head.  “No, not at all.  Are
you?”  When he shook his head, she went on, “Let me find out whether Mrs.
R. has started dinner.  If not, maybe we could have fruit and cheese, and
an early night?”

 “Brilliant idea
.
I’ll go talk to Ms.
R.  Stand by for a very early night,
amore.”