Chapter 5 #2
God, she was good. If Francesca weren’t his hostage, he’d employ her as a debt collector. She wouldn’t need to use menaces to recover any debt; simply sit with them for five minutes. They’d offer extra interest just to get rid of her.
He drank his coffee slowly and braced himself before meeting her stare.
“I can’t take you shopping. You know that.
But if you agree to spend the rest of your stay here sitting quietly whenever I’m working, I will let you choose whatever clothes you want from a store I have an account with, and have them delivered here today. ”
He wouldn’t have believed the light on her face could become even brighter. “Whatever I like?”
“Whatever you like. Bring the other chair over and use my laptop so I can supervise you. I will give you thirty minutes to make your choices.”
“And can I take it all home when I’m released?”
“I’m hardly going to wear it, so yes.”
“Give me an hour to choose?”
“Thirty minutes.”
“Please? I’m hopeless at shopping, so will need to choose lots of things – don’t worry, most of it will be sent back, it’s just that everything looks so nice in the pictures, but when I put them on, they look wrong.
Take this dress.” She plucked at its skirt.
“It looked wonderful on the model, but makes me look like an old-fashioned English teacher.”
“Then why did you buy it?”
She shrugged. “I buy everything online. It was the best of a bad bunch.”
Gino closed his eyes a moment. There was no reason on earth his heart should feel a tug of tenderness towards her, and when he looked at her again, there was no reason on earth either that he should say, “Thirty minutes. Pick a selection of clothes in the style you would like to wear. When you make your selections, you’ll be prompted to add your height and other statistics.
I will send it to the store’s senior stylist, and she will find clothes to fit your taste and fit you as you want them to fit. ”
Her eyes widened. For once, there was no hint of teasing or mischief in them. Just apprehensive wonder. “Really? You would do that for me?”
It took more effort than he would have believed to keep his voice even.
Even more effort to resist the inexplicable urge to capture a strand of her still-damp hair.
“If it means I get to do my work in peace, then yes. Get the chair, Miss Marino. Your thirty minutes start now.” And for the love of God, get off my desk.
With a smile softer and lighter than all her other smiles, she slid her bare feet onto the floor.
While she dragged the chair over to his desk, he brought the website up for her.
“Can I ask something else of you?” she asked as she sat. Her chair was so close to his that it would take effort not to allow their arms to touch.
He swallowed to loosen his suddenly tight throat. “You can ask.”
“I’ve finished my book – could you order some more for me, please? It’s the only way to stop me getting bored while you work.”
“Write a list, and I’ll have them delivered.”
“Thank you. Clothes that fit first!”
Closing his eyes again, Gino took a deep breath before fixing his stare back to his desktop.
This was all for the greater good, he told himself.
He’d made a deal that would allow him to work in peace for the next six days.
Get through the next thirty minutes of Francesca’s closeness and the awful awareness of her dainty hand working the mousepad of his laptop and of her every shoulder wriggle and absent kick of her feet, and then she would be on the sofa, and this awful, thrilling static dancing on his skin and pumping through his veins would vanish.
“Will you teach me to play poker?” she suddenly asked.
“In exchange for what?”
“Not in exchange for anything. I’d just like to learn.” She turned her face to him and flashed her mischievous smile. “You’re confining us to your apartment for the week. You can’t work twenty-four hours a day. We’ll need to find something to occupy our time in the long evenings.”
He would not let his mind roam to what else they could do to occupy their time.
“Can’t you spend the evenings cowering in a corner and pretending to be scared of me like a good little hostage should?”
Sniggering, she looked back at the screen and clicked the mousepad. “You need to work harder at being mean and threatening for that to happen.”
“It’s not something I usually need to work at. Most people find me mean and threatening as a matter of course.”
He felt her playful glance land back on him. “I thought we’d already established I’m not like most people, Mr Vicario.”
“You’re certainly one of a kind, Miss Marino.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment, now will you please stop talking – you’re distracting me from my shopping.”
This time, there was no stifling his laughter.
She’d fallen asleep. Gino couldn’t even blame it on her mouth exhausting her into sleep, not when Francesca had been as good as her word.
Her thirty minutes up, she’d slid the laptop to him, telling him her chosen items were in the store’s basket, then asked for a pen and a piece of paper.
After writing a quick list of the books she wanted, she’d taken herself to the sofa without being told.
Lunch had been brought in for them, and she’d eaten hers in silence.
Ten minutes after Carmita had cleared it all away, the chosen books had been delivered.
Francesca had dived into them with glee, selected one, popped a cushion beneath her head, stretched out, and started reading.
All this silence had allowed him to work at his usual speed.
He’d read all the overnight reports from the general managers who ran his nightclubs across Europe, checked in on all his other investments, set up numerous meetings for the following week and answered his backlog of overnight messages.
An hour earlier, a message had come through on a burner phone from one of his spies confirming that Mattia Esposito was putting everything in place to comply with Gino’s demands, with the caveat not to trust him.
It was a caveat Gino did not need. He trusted no one, least of all an Esposito.
Lorenzo had been a good man to do business and party with, but beneath his bonhomie and generosity had lived a man whose eye was always fixed firmly on the main chance and whose brain was always ten steps ahead of everyone else’s. Gino had learned a lot from him.
And yet for all the work he’d completed, he’d found his stare continually flickering over to the woman happily reading on his office sofa.
Often, he’d found her stare already on him.
Other times, his eyes had barely glanced at hers before her gaze blinked onto his.
Every time their eyes connected, his heart pumped a little faster.
He could still feel the tingle of the strange static on his skin and in his veins.
He’d noticed her falling asleep before she’d finally gone.
Seen the growing heaviness of her eyes. Noticed the exaggerated blinks as she tried to keep them open.
He’d been messaging his spy back when she’d pressed her open book to her chest and closed her eyes for the final time.
The book was still there, just, sliding off in tiny increments as her chest rose and fell.
Soon, it would slip off her. She would lose her page.
The sun was starting to set. He supposed he should wake her.
Rubbing the back of his tightening neck – he was a man always on the move; sitting for any length of time like this was not normal for him – he looked up at the ceiling and wondered how the hell he was going to make it through the next six nights with this woman in his bedroom.
“Are you still working?” a soft, sleepy voice asked.
He lowered his gaze.
She smiled, then covered her mouth and yawned. “How long have I been asleep?”
“About an hour.”
“I bet you’ve spent all that time silently celebrating.”
“Something like that.”
“So, are you still working?”
He shook his head. “I’ve just finished.”
Mischief flashed on her sleepy face. “Interrogation time?”
“Your clothes have been delivered. Don’t you want to try them on first?”
She considered this, then scrambled upright, swinging her feet to the floor.
“Okay, clothes first, then interrogation.” Standing, she stretched her back and rolled her neck.
Her hair had dried, the back of it fanning out as if the static he’d felt on his skin and veins had jumped to her and pulled it in all directions.
He didn’t think he’d ever seen anything sexier.