Chapter Eight #2
She clenched her hands and for a moment it looked as if she might be about to launch herself out of the chair and punch her fists against his chest. And wasn’t there a part of Vito which wished she would, so that he could cradle her petite body to his as he had been longing to do for weeks?
So he could feel all that soft, curving warmth beneath his questing fingers and claim her trembling lips with his own—blotting out this unwanted reality she had presented to him, with the sweet oblivion of sex.
‘Let’s cut to the chase,’ he said thickly, angry with the erotic distraction of his thoughts. ‘What do you envisage happening next?’
She looked startled. ‘Well, I guess I’ll just carry on until I’m too big to work. And then I’ll take maternity leave and then I’ll… I’ll…’
Deliberately, Vito allowed the silence to grow as her words tailed off. She really hadn’t thought this through, he realised, with a flicker of impatience. ‘That isn’t going to work, I’m afraid,’ he said, at last. ‘Your current condition isn’t compatible with being secretary to the CEO.’
‘Ah, so that’s where this is headed, is it?’ She tilted her chin with proud defiance. ‘Well, good luck with trying to sack me! There are laws against such things, you know.’
For a moment he almost laughed, her suggestion was so outrageous. ‘I am a twenty-first-century businessman, Flora,’ he offered dryly. ‘Do you really think I’m capable of trying to enforce such outdated ideas?’
‘How should I know what you’re capable of when you barge in here as if you own the place?’ she said, only now her voice had started wavering. ‘I don’t really know you at all.’
‘In that case, there are a great many things we need to address.’
‘Have your office type me out a list and I’ll get round to reading it sometime!’
More used to a red carpet being rolled out for him than dealing with a stubborn woman so obviously in thrall to her raging hormones, Vito refused to rise to a flippancy which was, annoyingly, more than a little appealing.
Because not only was it a mistake to allow her feistiness to weave its strangely sensual spell—couldn’t he detect a deep fatigue which was underpinning her brittle air of defiance?
He remembered what she’d told him about her own family.
She had never known her father, her mother was dead and her sister was in Australia.
She might have friends, but what good were friends when the bills needed paying and the air was chilled?
She was completely on her own. What choice did he have but to help her? ‘You need to pack a bag.’
She looked at him blankly. ‘A bag?’
‘Just bring the basics with you,’ he continued coolly, pulling his cell phone from his pocket. ‘Everything else you need can easily be acquired later.’
‘You’re not making yourself clear,’ she said.
‘I cannot leave you here on your own.’
‘I’ve lived here for years,’ she told him, from between gritted teeth.
‘But you weren’t pregnant then,’ he reminded her acidly. ‘Does Amy know about your condition?’
At this she froze, a look of alarm shadowing her face. ‘No! I didn’t want to worry her and…’
‘And?’ he queried, thinking that she might do better if she stopped thinking about Amy all the time and started thinking about herself.
‘I thought you should be… I wanted you to be the first. To know,’ she concluded unsteadily.
This unexpected streak of consideration was oddly affecting and for a moment Vito was silent as a wave of compassion swept over him. ‘So who is going to look after you?’ he demanded. ‘Unless you are depending on the guy with the ponytail?’
‘I’m sure Joe would be happy to help with the shopping.’
‘Oh, I’m sure he would,’ he said, his voice silky soft.
‘Are you jealous of Joe, Vito?’
‘Why?’ He stared her down. ‘Should I be?’
‘No. He’s just a friend.’ He saw her cheeks grow pink. ‘Though that’s not really the point.’
He gave an impatient wave of his hand. ‘My mind is made up, Flora. You will have to return to Italy with me.’
A disbelieving pause spread out.
‘Really?’ she breathed. ‘I’m not sure I understand. Wh-what…what’s in it for you?’
Vito watched as a series of reactions flickered over her features.
He saw shock, and surprise, and hope. Yes.
There was definitely hope. And not only was hope a waste of time—it was one of the most difficult things to kill off.
He’d seen it on the faces of women before.
Too many to count. Ruthlessly he sought to make his intentions crystal-clear.
‘This is simply a temporary measure. I can’t promise you anything. ’
‘I’m not asking you to promise me anything!’ she flared furiously. ‘I’m not a small child waiting for Christmas!’
‘I have a home in Milan which is easily big enough to accommodate you for a month or two until the sickness has passed,’ he continued carefully.
‘What about my job?’
‘Do not concern yourself about that. I will arrange to have someone replace you while you’re away.’
Was it the suggestion that she was so easily replaceable which caused all the emotion to drain from her face, so that it resembled nothing more than a blank canvas?
‘Thank you, Vito,’ she said quietly, the shining tumble of her curls moving as she nodded. ‘It’s a very…generous…offer. But it’s a bad idea.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘Because?’
‘I don’t have to tell you every thought that’s going around in my head,’ she defended vigorously. ‘I just don’t want to go to Milan and you can’t make me.’
‘You think so?’ he said softly.
‘Try me!’ she challenged.
So he did. Sitting down in the chair opposite her Vito began to speak, softly at first—while for much of the time, she glared at him.
But his determination did not waver. No matter how much Flora railed against his resolve, he was ready for her.
This time he would do the right thing. He would be able to live with the knowledge that he had done what was best for her, no matter what the eventual outcome might be.
So he cajoled and he coaxed—shamelessly listing the many advantages of being under his protection—which easily overshadowed all her reasons for staying.
Every objection she raised he had an answer for, until eventually she nodded, holding up the palms of her hands and giving a heavy sigh of mock surrender.
‘Okay, Vito,’ she said ‘You win. I’ll come to Milan. For a short while, at least.’
But the defiant glint in her green-gold eyes remained and Vito wondered if that was what stopped him from reminding her that he always won.