Under the Italian's Command (10 page)

‘There isn’t one,’ she said, turning on a frank stare. ‘I don’t have time.’

Should that answer please him quite so much? ‘So you won’t be leaving anyone behind if you’re awarded the scholarship?’

Only you… With a head and heart full of Lorenzo it wasn’t easy to stare straight at him and convince them both there was no one she cared about. ‘No one,’ she repeated, avoiding his gaze.

‘Surely your parents have someone lined up for you?’

‘Maybe, but I didn’t approve of their selection.’

‘You make them sound like a box of chocolates.’

‘That’s just what they were,’ she agreed. ‘But they were all strawberry creams, when I was looking for—’

‘Bitter chocolate and a hard nut?’ he suggested dryly.

‘Exactly…’ She looked at him, wishing the comparison between men with grey socks and darkly, dangerous Lorenzo could have been a little less extreme. ‘Anyway—’

‘Anyway?’

‘Like I said before, I don’t have time for men.’ It was a useful lie. ‘The speed-dating fiasco was a mistake. I found myself in the right place at the wrong time, and then I just got swept away by the prospect of—’

‘Sharing a man’s bed with countless others?’

‘No!’

He hummed
sceptically
as he might have done in court. ‘Are you sure your parents don’t know what’s best for you?’

He poured coffee, but she wondered at the tense line of his jaw. ‘I’m positive.’ She passed the cream. ‘So-called society can be incredibly dull.’

He sat back. ‘Tell me about it.’

‘Bores who think their stories are irresistible, and when you try to get to know them, you wonder why you—’

He cut in. ‘I didn’t mean tell me literally, I was agreeing with you.’

‘You were?’

‘Yes, I was,
Carly
.’

Well, that had to be a first! The way Lorenzo was looking at her now was unfathomable. The only thing she could say for sure was that it made her heart melt.

She would get over him and get on with her life,
Carly
told herself firmly. This little chat was nothing more than a fishing expedition on Lorenzo’s part so he could write a proper report. ‘Thanks for taking the time to talk to me.’ She was just congratulating herself on a great exit line when she missed her footing and landed in his arms.

‘Bed?’ he suggested.

She stared into his eyes, hardly daring to breathe.

‘I need you back working full tilt tomorrow.’

Ah.

He steadied her back on her feet and said goodnight. She’d almost made it out of the room when he added, ‘Your parents must be very proud of you.’

‘Yes, of course they are.’ She stiffened.

‘And this scholarship would mean a lot to them?’

‘Of course…’

‘And to you?’

When she didn’t reply immediately, he added, ‘I should think they’re already proud of you. You don’t need the Unicorn scholarship on top of everything else.’

Her stomach clenched. Was Lorenzo trying to tell her something? If he was she’d rather he just came out and say it. ‘Lorenzo, please don’t mess me about—I’d rather know.’

‘And you know I can’t tell you my decision.’

She gripped the door handle for a moment and then left the room. He fought the urge to go after her. He had been trying to let her down lightly and he’d messed up. He waited until she shut her bedroom door and then only managed to stop himself punching the wall because it wasn’t his wall to punch.

He was suspended between business and pleasure with a bridge of lust in between. If he had been searching for a recipe for disaster, he couldn’t have found a better one.

ONLY ONE MORE NIGHT until
Carly’s
Christmas party. That was her second thought as she woke up. The first—since it contained Lorenzo—was censored.

There was a street lamp outside the window shedding a grudging light inside the room. She lay in bed staring at the ceiling, telling herself she was stealing the last few moments in a warm bed before getting up, when really she was listening for Lorenzo. And fretting. He had dug and dug last night until she’d given up who knew what innermost secrets. One thing was for sure: he’d read more into what she’d said than anyone who wasn’t a top-flight barrister might. She wasn’t fooled for a minute by his
cosy
chit-chat; he’d been using his tried-and-tested courtroom technique to find out everything he could about her. So had she blown her scholarship chances out of the water? Only Lorenzo knew that, and he wasn’t telling.

It shouldn’t be hard to avoid him today she’d be so busy, but it was when they were both home like this and the apartment hummed with his energy she found it so difficult to relax. How long would it take to fix a leak at his flat? When would she be rid of him?

Who was she trying to kid? She was aching for sex; aching for Lorenzo.

Burying her head under the pillows, she tried to shut out the sound of his shower running. The thought of him naked beneath the spray was nothing short of torment, but, short of a miracle, aching for sex was how she was going to stay. Lorenzo
Domenico
might be the hottest thing on two hard-muscled legs, but he wasn’t interested in her.

The bathroom grew silent again. Sitting up in bed, she hugged her knees, resting her chin. The best thing to do was work twice as hard to prove to Lorenzo that her parents’ expectations weren’t the only thing driving her.

Lifting the envelope containing
Carly’s
lists, he picked up the phone and summoned her. Minutes later she was in his office.

He eased back in his chair, acting as if the sight of her had no effect on his libido. ‘Let’s go over these lists,’ he said, handing her the copies.

Lists plural? He had both her lists?

‘Lists?’ she squeaked, delving frantically through her memory bank. She distinctly remembered stuffing Lorenzo’s list inside an envelope and popping it inside his pigeon-hole. She knew it was his envelope because she had marked it For Your Eyes Only. For one look into Lorenzo’s eyes she would do a lot of things…but not, surely, mix up her lists?

‘You put an envelope into my pigeon-hole, didn’t you?’ he said, confirming it was all right to relax. But then a suspicious curve tugged at his lips. ‘And I picked this list up when you dropped it…’

He’d got the wrong envelope! It wasn’t just a list she’d dropped, it was the bottom out of her world!

‘Is it getting too hot for you?’ Lorenzo murmured as she eased the neck of her shirt. ‘I can easily turn the central heating down.’

He could turn the air-conditioning up and it wouldn’t impact on her discomfort. Toughing it out was the only way left to her. She played it cool. ‘Oh, that list. I still have one or two additions to make, so if you wouldn’t mind…’ She held out her hand in a way that would make any normal person act immediately.

‘Additions?’ Lorenzo said dryly. ‘Can it be possible you’ve left something out?’

Her cheeks fired as she thought about it. Her cravings, her fantasies of everything she’d like Lorenzo to do to her—all of them written down in note form, some with explicit doodles…

‘No, I didn’t think so,’ he said. ‘I think you’d better explain yourself,
Carly
.’

Inwardly, she shrank. Explain what? That she wanted to go to bed with Lorenzo—and not once, but many times, and each of those times was going to be more inventive than the last—

‘I hope you haven’t circulated this list to your colleagues,’ he said, showing a distinct absence of
humour
.

‘No, of course not!’ That was the one thing she could be sure about. The list Lorenzo had just placed on the desk in front of him was one of a kind.

‘Good,’ he said evenly. ‘It could corrupt in the wrong hands…’

Forget toughing it out! ‘Sorry.’ Snatching the list off his desk, she ran out. If she was going down she was going down with all guns blazing!

Back home that night, wanting to take her mind off Lorenzo, and inspired by his prowess in the kitchen,
Carly
baked a cake. And not just any cake. A cake decorated with emerald-green icing. The bottle of
colouring
had been tiny, the bowl large—who knew you were supposed to put in a drop of green
colouring
and not the whole bottle?

In spite of this small setback she decided stubbornly that it would make an excellent
centrepiece
for the buffet table at the Christmas party.

‘Emerald-green icing?’ Madeline stared.

‘It’s festive,’
Carly
pointed out. She had drawn quite a crowd on her arrival in chambers, and was prepared to defend the first cake she had ever baked to hell and back again.

‘It will brighten up the buffet table no end,’ one of the clerks agreed. ‘You could use it for a
centrepiece
.’

‘That’s the plan…’ She was smiling again by the time she replaced the lid on the tin.

‘You have got everything ready for tonight, haven’t you,
Carly
?’ Madeline asked anxiously as everyone peeled away. ‘Only Lorenzo went off to court like a bear with a sore head—’

‘Did he…?’ she asked, trying to sound indifferent while she inwardly groaned. This was it. She was finished. After the encounter in his office and the wretched list she should have expected it. ‘Of course I’m ready.’ She changed track quickly, seeing Madeline’s suspicious nose was already twitching at the thought of something juicy to spread around.

‘What will you wear?’ Madeline gave her the quick up and down.

She wasn’t falling for that one again. ‘I haven’t decided yet,’
Carly
replied vaguely, her mind on other things—like the tirade of anger due from Lorenzo.

‘Don’t you think you should?’ Madeline demanded with a frown, taking a large bite out of a succulent
Krispie
Kreme
. ‘Want one?’ she offered, holding out the box. She didn’t just offer, she held the box stuffed with freshly-baked doughnuts right under
Carly’s
nose. ‘I didn’t have time to stop for breakfast,’ Madeline explained as the mouth-wateringly sugary smell invaded
Carly’s
quivering nostrils.

Carly’s
stomach growled in disappointment as she refused the offer. But what could she do? She had nine hours to drop a dress size, and no intention of squandering a single minute. ‘I had breakfast before I left the flat, thank you,’ she lied glibly. ‘And now, if you will excuse me, Madeline, I really should be getting on…’

‘Of course…’ Madeline looked curiously at the hefty brief beneath
Carly’s
arm, tied ostentatiously as all briefs were supposed to be with bright pink ribbon. The sight of it didn’t have quite the same effect on Madeline as the box of
Krispy
Kremes
had had on
Carly
, but at least it made Madeline’s predatory gaze narrow, which was something.

‘Lorenzo entrusts you with his briefs?’

‘I’m looking this one over for him, actually,’
Carly
said, excusing her fib on the grounds of extreme provocation. The truth was Lorenzo had left the papers behind in the flat, and she thought he might need them. And returning them was as good an excuse to see him again and beg for his mercy.

‘What about your dress for tonight,
Carly
?’ Madeline pressed.

‘Who said anything about a dress?’

‘You surely can’t be thinking of turning up in trousers?’ Madeline looked fit to faint.

‘Now, Madeline, you know that everything about the Christmas party is supposed to be a surprise.’

‘A surprise, not a shock,’ Madeline pointed out, taking another monster bite from her doughnut. ‘But if you should need any help…’

And see you coming? I’ll run a mile,
Carly
thought, smiling sweetly as she pressed the elevator call button. She had enough trouble on her hands as it was.

‘Only I saw this dress, and it’s just you—’

Carly
breathed a sigh of relief as the elevator doors closed right on cue.

Carly
smiled with satisfaction. She was ready. She had arranged for everything to be delivered at least two hours before it would be needed for the party, and so far her plan was running like clockwork. Everyone else had gone home at lunchtime to prepare. She hadn’t managed to see Lorenzo, which she told herself was a good thing as she
plonked
the brief down on his desk. Actually, it was; she was anxious enough. She had warned the security guard at Reception that no one, apart from her suppliers, was to come anywhere near the main hall. If she was going down, she was going down with the most spectacular bang.

How could you go without food for a whole day and still not lose weight? Having raced back to the flat,
Carly
was now struggling with the skirt she had planned to wear for the party—black lace over a flesh-
coloured
skirt. If you didn’t look too closely, it gave the illusion of lace over naked skin—though whatever had possessed her to imagine anyone would want to see her naked flesh escaped her now. Tugging it off, she discarded it on top of the ever-growing clothes mountain at the foot of her bed.

She was getting desperate, but then she noticed the snow drifting past the window. Snow was good news, because snow made it possible to pile on layers which, hopefully, would conceal everything underneath. Plus, if she transformed herself into something shapeless and sexless, no one would care how much she ate. Brilliant. When she wasn’t handing out food she could be eating it.

There was a far bigger turnout than
Carly
had expected, and everyone was in party mood, including Madeline.

‘
Carly
, you’re a star!’ Madeline enthused, managing at the same time to frown with incredulity that
Carly
could have achieved something so enjoyable. ‘Everyone’s saying that no one but you would have had the nerve to put on a Northern night.’

‘Really?’ Was that good, or bad?
Carly
wondered. And where was Lorenzo? She gazed around nervously. The sooner they could have their confrontation and get it over with, the better. She knew she was finished. She just didn’t know the mode of execution Lorenzo would choose to
despatch
her with yet.

‘I can see now why you didn’t need my fashion advice,’ Madeline commented with a critical gaze. ‘How clever of you to get that grunge outfit exactly right.’