The Italian's Secretary Bride (15 page)

‘I've known him but we haven't…that is, Lu…he…we…'

‘Good God, Alice, you're not talking about Luca O'Hagan, are you?'

‘I might be…' There was a definite edge of defiance in Alice's response.

‘Luca O'Hagan. My God. He's a total stud, but, no offence, isn't he a bit
deep end
for someone like you?'

Alice appreciated her tact, but she needn't have bothered. She was perfectly aware that the likes of Luca wouldn't normally look twice at someone like herself. But he had looked, and more, hadn't he? And furthermore he'd acted as if he enjoyed looking.

‘Alice, be careful won't you?' she heard Rachel say worriedly as she tuned back into the conversation.

It could be too late for that, Alice admitted as she forced herself to concentrate on what Rachel was saying.

‘I'd hate to see you get hurt. His reputation—'

‘I know all about Luca's reputation, and, don't worry, I can take care of myself. It's not likely it's going to happen again.'

‘Do you mean that?'

‘Of course I mean it.' I mean it right up to the moment he walks through that door. If, she thought bitterly, he can drag himself away from his meeting. She could almost see his tall, athletic figure, framed in the doorway.

‘You sound as if you're sorry about that.' Alice blinked away the imaginary Luca and her sister-in-law continued. ‘Was he
that
good?'

'Rachel!'

A wicked-sounding chuckle echoed down the line. ‘My husband's been at sea for three months. The only sex I have is vicarious,' she excused herself.

Despite herself, Alice grinned. ‘Let me put it this way: chocolate is good, but you'd get bored if you had it for every meal.' Wasn't chocolate addictive?

‘That good, huh?' came the impressed response.

 

No wonder Rachel had been so shocked, Alice thought as she stood under the hot needles of the power-shower spray. Me and Luca—what am I thinking of falling for a man who changes his women the same way most men change socks?

Be careful
, Rachel had said, and she doubted her sister-in-law had been talking birth control when she had said that! No doubt she assumed that when you were talking to a twenty-eight-year-old, well-educated female who ought to know better this wasn't the sort of thing that needed discussing!

Luca had probably thought the same thing. No doubt he had taken it for granted that she had taken precautions. Though given his claim to never have unprotected sex it did strike her as slightly unexpected that he hadn't done something about it himself. Of course the chances were…what…even given her erratic cycle…
minimal
…?

I can't think about that now!

She had to focus her thoughts and energy on the things that she
could
control…like being good at her job and not acting like a total idiot when she saw Luca again. If they were going to have a sexual relationship she would have to accept some very brutal truths and keep some very difficult secrets. She had serious doubts when it came to her ability to disguise the depth of her true feelings.

She selected a pair of jeans that made her hips look relatively slim—her bottom might be generous but at least it was firm—and topped it with a white designer tee shirt and tailored jacket. She had some free time and if her credit-card limit was not going to allow her to literally shop until she dropped she was hoping that the retail therapy would still be therapeutic. If she didn't think about Luca for half an hour it would be worth the expense!

After a final check of her reflection in the mirror she stepped out into the corridor where she almost walked into someone standing outside the door. She raised her hands to stop herself colliding with the stationary figure.

‘Sorry.' She lifted her head and the breath rushed out of her lungs in one sibilant sigh as she found herself looking up into a pair of electric-blue eyes. ‘Luca…you here…now…how?' She bit down hard on her lip. Me Jane, you Tarzan would have been a step up from that disjointed gibberish.

Start again. From somewhere she dredged something that passed for self-possession.

‘Luca…' Good tone, casual and relaxed, but not too relaxed. It gave no hint of the tumultuous state of her pulse or the mortifying condition of her nervous system, which was what counted.

‘You remembered my name, I'm touched.'

Alice was too occupied repressing her basic instincts to pick up on any undertones beyond casual sarcasm in his comment or his strained attitude.

‘What are you doing here? I was just on my way out.'

His dark brooding features hardened perceptibly. ‘Then you can change your plans.'

It was several seconds before she realised she ought to object to his masterful behaviour. ‘Well, really, that's…' Her legs felt hollow and weak as, with shaking fingers, she smoothed down her hair.

One dark brow lifted. ‘You have a problem with that?'

A tiny fractured sigh escaped her parted lips as she recalled with perfect clarity the way it had felt to run her hands covetously over the surface of his skin.

‘No problem,' she whispered, mentally teasing her fingers into the dark fuzz of silky hair on his chest.

Resisting the abrupt and almost overwhelming urge to rip off his shirt and expose that golden expanse of hard flesh beaded her upper lip with sweat. She felt dizzy.

‘What are you thinking about?'

The truth sprang to her lips. ‘Touching you.'

His bronzed features clenched. ‘I like your hands on me. I like you touching me.'

Her insides melted as a shard of sexual energy blasted through her feeble defences. ‘And I
love
touching you,' she admitted in a small breathless whisper.

Her heart was thudding so loud that she could hardly hear her own voice. ‘But, Luca, I think it isn't really a good idea…under the circumstances.'

‘To hell with the circumstances!'

‘Easy for you to say.'

‘No, actually, it isn't.' His ironic laugh held a bewildering degree of bitterness. ‘Not easy at all. Open the door, Alice.' He planted his hands palm-flat on the wall either side of her shoulders.

Alice instantly lost the ability to think or even breathe. His fingers slid into her hair, loosening the clip that held it in a casual twist on her head; it fell down into a silky sheet around her shoulders. He cupped her chin in his hand and tilted her head up to him.

‘You want me. Say it!' he demanded fiercely.

Alice shuddered and closed her eyes as surrender flooded through her body. ‘I want you, Luca.'

A
LICE
placed the item on the neatly packed suitcase and sat down on the bed. She felt her small self-congratulatory smile was well deserved; she hated packing with a vengeance and couldn't understand people who happily lived out of a suitcase. It was definitely not the lifestyle for her.

Of course the travelling she got to do with work had seemed very glamorous at first to a girl who had never been on a plane until she was twenty. She had not been a cool teenager, and family holidays when she was young had been a seaside boarding house in Cornwall, before it was a trendy destination. She had shared a room with her sister and slept in a bottom bunk that wouldn't have accommodated a plump Cornish kipper let alone a growing girl!

She had recollections of lots of rain, compulsory board games in the evening, and a fair number of family squabbles. All memories she treasured. Basically she was a girl who needed roots and that was where she was headed for a fort-night's holiday in the bosom of her family to recharge her depleted batteries.

Her expression softened as she thought of her home. Her father had been retired for several years. Not as spry as he once had been and with no son or daughter who wanted to work the land, he had sold all but a few of his acres off to a neighbour several years earlier. However, the half-timbered farmhouse with its odd-shaped rooms, low ceilings and passages that led nowhere was still the place where the brood returned and Alice was no exception.

This time was different. The tug of her roots was still as strong as ever, but she knew that the moment she walked through the door her mother would
know
. There was no
maybe
involved. It was spooky, but her mother always knew about these things. Her husband laughingly claimed she would have been called a witch in an earlier century.

Alice wasn't sure she wanted her feelings for Luca to be poked and prodded even by her liberal-minded mum. How was she going to admit that she had fallen in love with someone who had forgotten she even existed?

Her mother had been the only one to express concern when she and Mark had announced their engagement.

‘I know you both like the same films and support the same football team. I'm sure you're as compatible as hell, sweetheart, but is he the love of your life?' she asked Alice on the evening of her engagement party. ‘Are you sure you're not marrying because everyone expects you to?'

Alice was hurt by the question. ‘Don't you like Mark, Mum?' she asked.

‘Of course I like him. That's not the question; he's a very likeable boy. Do you love him? That's the only question that counts.'

‘Of course I do,' she responded and at the time she believed it, but now Alice knew there was more than one way to love a man. Comparing what she had felt for her husband with what she felt for Luca was like comparing a gentle summer breeze to a full-scale hurricane warning.

It was a warning she ought to have heeded!

Though Mum ought to approve, Alice thought. I did what she always told me I ought to—I followed my instincts!

And where did it get me?

It had been three whole days since their last passionate encounter, and it had meant so much to Luca he hadn't even picked up a phone to call her since. She knew because she'd been waiting for it to ring…her heart racing every time she leapt to answer it and her spirits plummeting when she didn't hear his voice.

Her expression hardened as she gazed bleakly into the distance. Luca's method of giving the brush-off was brutal but efficient and he didn't even have to do anything, just make himself unavailable. Alice had got the message loud and clear. She just wished she had got it before she had rung his office number and got through to a nervous-sounding temp.

Alice could understand why she sounded nervous; she didn't see Luca as being an easy man to work for. Perfectionists rarely were, in her experience.

‘Miss Trevelyan…sorry, you're…bear with me, I'd better check. Hold on a sec.'

Alice heard a few rustles and bangs and realised the harassed temp had obviously left the receiver lying on her desk.

‘There's an Alice Trevelyan on the line asking for you?'

Alice winced and held the phone a little way from her ear as the voice continued loudly. ‘Shall I put her through?'

Alice was looking at the tickets in her hand, wondering what she'd do if Luca hated the ballet, when down the line she heard a door slam.

‘This is the intercom…next time use it.'

Alice winced in sympathy at the cutting derision in Luca's exasperated voice.

Despite that, I could listen to his voice all day, she found herself thinking.

‘Sorry, sir, I just…sorry. Shall I put Miss Trevelyan through?'

‘No.'

The contemplative smile that lifted the corners of Alice's wide mouth snuffed out. She lifted her hand to her mouth and a chill spread through her body as every last vestige of colour leeched from her face.

‘What shall I say?'

‘Use your imagination, but I don't want to speak to her. Is that clear?'

‘Yes, absolutely, you don't want to speak to Miss Trevelyan.'

Alice replaced the phone down on the cradle with exaggerated care; she was shaking with hurt bewilderment. With stricken eyes she stared at the silent phone.

Oh, yes, she had got the message all right.

Was he more interested in the chase than anything that might follow? It certainly looked that way and she had made a terrible mistake. She had believed that what had passed between them was more than great sex. She had been misguided enough to imagine what they had shared was special…she was special.

What was she feeling? Humiliation, pain, anger and regret? Did she regret what had happened? Would she actually play it differently if the choice were offered her now?

Would she
not
have that memory?

God, why am I doing this? she wondered. The man didn't even have the decency to dump me and I'm obsessing about him. Would it have been so hard for him to issue some face-saving platitude like ‘I think you're a lovely girl and we've had a great time but this isn't going to work out' in person?

‘I'm doing it again!' she cried out loud. ‘Say this after me, Alice…I will not think about Luca O'Hagan. He is not worth wasting one second of one minute on.' She gave a decisive nod and picked up the control for the TV while she finished packing.

She was flicking between a cartoon channel and a documentary on volcanoes when there was a knock on the door. Tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, she pulled it open with one hand while still looking at the screen.

‘Hello, Alice.'

The voice made her freeze. She dropped the remote and poked her head around the door. Her eyes widened to their fullest extent. ‘Oh, God, no!' she gasped and ducked back inside.

Standing with her back to the wall, she pressed her hand to her head and released a silent groan.

I can't believe I did that!

I could have spent a week figuring out how to look a total idiot and not come up with something that good. She turned her face to the wall and rested her forehead against the neutrally painted surface. A slick one-liner, that's what I need. A glib phrase that will leave me with a crumb of self-respect.

‘Go away!' she heard herself growl.

That wasn't the line.

‘You were very much nicer to me the last time we met.'

She could hear the nasty tone in his voice. Anger made her feel courageous. Chin up, eyes blazing with anger, she stepped into the doorway. ‘I must have been drinking,' she choked. Even though she knew it had meant nothing to him, the memory of their lovemaking was precious to Alice. That he could use it to mock her hurt her beyond measure.

‘Next you'll be saying you didn't know what you were doing.'

‘I knew what I was doing,' she agreed quietly. ‘The same way I know I'm not going to do it ever again.'

She definitely hadn't known what she was doing when she made the mistake of looking directly into his eyes. Normally expressive, his blue eyes were flat like a bottomless lake, nothing in them but her own reflection. It took all of her not inconsiderable will-power to break the hypnotic pull of those impenetrable orbs.

‘So you no longer want me?' His expressive brows quirked. ‘You want us to have a platonic relationship?'

Breathing hard, she gazed at the shiny surface of his leather boots while she tried to collect her thoughts. As her glance climbed over his long legs and muscular thighs clad in faded denim and moved upwards to his taut midriff and broad chest, so did her heart beat until it was pounding so hard she felt light-headed and breathless.

‘I don't want us to have any sort of relationship.'

His nostrils flared. ‘You think you can dismiss me the way you do your one-night stands?'

‘One-night stands!' she gasped.

He looked into her wide eyes filled with bewilderment and stifled the irrational urge to comfort her. ‘Don't look like that.' Voice harsh, he lowered his eyes. ‘Sex is sex, you said.'

‘I did no such thing…oh…!' Alice broke off, her eyes widening as her face flushed with colour. She did have the distinct recollection of saying something not dissimilar. ‘I didn't mean—'

Luca cut her off with an imperative gesture. ‘I know you probably don't think about it in those terms,' he conceded heavily. ‘I suppose in your own peculiar way you think you're staying faithful to the memory of your dead husband. But the bottom line is avoiding involvement is—'

‘Something you'd know all about,' she supplied, white with fury. ‘A lecture on morals from you of all people. Do me a favour!'

There was a short static silence. Their eyes locked. ‘That's exactly what I intend to do,' he said, before barging past her into the room.

Alice stayed where she was, her hand curled over the door handle; she wasn't too proud to run away. In fact the longer she considered the option, the more appealing it seemed. She kept her wary eyes trained on him as he sauntered across the room.

The navy cashmere sweater he wore had designer written all over it. It made his eyes look even more startlingly blue than usual…if that were possible! He had casually pushed the sleeves up, revealing the light sprinkling of dark hair on his sinewed forearms.

The stab of lust she experienced was so all-consuming that she was literally paralysed with longing. The paralysis was not just physical; she couldn't think…she couldn't breathe…

How long was I standing there eating him up with my eyes?

The truth was she didn't have the faintest idea. It could have been half an hour or seconds but she sincerely hoped it was closer to the latter estimate!

Tiny muscles along her delicate but firm jaw quivered as she inhaled.

He ran a hand over his aggressive jaw, drawing Alice's attention to the dark designer stubble that covered the lower half of his face. Fairly predictably the almost piratical look it gave him was wildly attractive.

‘It's a new look for you,' she said, simulating amusement. ‘Very moody and if you're sporting it I'm sure it's all the latest fashion.'

His hand fell to his side. ‘You think I'm a fashion victim?'

‘I'm sure you couldn't give a damn what I think,' she returned with a carelessness she was a long way from feeling.

‘I didn't come here to play word games.'

‘Why did you come?'

So far her own efforts to figure this one out had not been productive. This could have something to do with the fact she was on some sort of intellectual hamster wheel. Her thoughts were stuck in a nightmare loop and nothing that was happening made any sense to her.

Luca, who was looking at the luggage neatly stacked on the bed, didn't appear to hear her question.

‘You going somewhere?'

‘Yes.'

His questioning glance didn't waver. ‘Home,' she supplied reluctantly. ‘I'm booked on the nine-thirty flight. So if you don't mind I need to finish—'

‘It's lucky I got here in time, then, isn't it? Have you told your family?'

She gave a puzzled nod. ‘I planned this holiday last year.'

‘That's not what I was talking about and you know it,' he contended grimly.

‘I don't know anything!'

Her heart-felt protest made him turn back towards her, and the light from the east-facing window fell directly across his face. Alice's stomach tightened. Whatever else Luca was, she thought as her eyes moved over the strong, powerful contours of his amazing face, he was beautiful.

Swallowing, she lowered her pain-filled gaze.

‘Look, Luca, I can see how you might think my door and my bed is always open to you when your plans for the evening have fallen through.' She caught her lower lip between her teeth, hating the embittered note in her voice. ‘We had a nice time, but trying to recreate a mood is, in my experience, all too frequently disappointing. Let's keep the memory.' An inspired response if I say so myself.