by Kate Hewitt
‘You should have told me you were a virgin.’
Her already wide eyes widened even further, looking huge in her face. ‘Would it have mattered?’
‘Yes. I’m not accustomed to…’ Alessandro gestured to the desk, unwilling to put it into words, furious with himself as well as with Mia. What had she been thinking? What had he?
‘Well, obviously neither am I.’ Her voice was grim, humourless. ‘Let’s just say the moment got the better of us, and move past it, shall we?’
He stared at her, surprised and a little discomfited that she was offering so pragmatic an approach, and the one he would have suggested but now oddly resented. Minutes before they’d been twined around each other like…but, no. He wasn’t going to think about that. Mia was right. They needed to move past this—immediately.
‘Yes.’ His voice was tight. ‘Yes, that is exactly what we shall do.’
Mia nodded, still looking grim, and Alessandro felt the need to gain control of the situation; somehow it had slipped entirely out of his hands, and he needed to come to grips with it. He needed to remind himself what kind of man he was, and it most certainly wasn’t one who unzipped a woman’s dress and then ended up having her over a desk in a darkened office.
Those were the actions of a man who had no self-control, no common sense, no sense of containment. They were the actions of a man who allowed lust or any other unruly emotion to control him, and that was not who he was. It couldn’t be.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked stiffly. ‘You’re not…?’ The question nearly brought a blush to his face. He’d never slept with a virgin before. ‘You’re not hurt?’
‘I’m fine,’ Mia said flatly. She reached for her coat and shoved her arms in. ‘I just need to go home.’ She made to leave and Alessandro stayed her with one hand; she flinched under his touch, which both shamed and hurt him.
‘Mia, please. Don’t leave like this.’
Her eyebrows rose. ‘How am I supposed to leave?’
Alessandro didn’t know how to answer, couldn’t even determine what he wanted. For this never to have happened, he supposed, but there was nothing he could do about that. ‘Take the limo,’ he said at last. ‘It will be safer and quicker.’ She stared at him for a moment, her face like a mask, and Alessandro realised how little he was offering. A lift. But he didn’t know what else he could give her.
‘Fine,’ she said, and then she shook off his arm and walked out through the door.
CHAPTER FIVE
MIA WOKE UP to bright, wintry sunlight streaming through the window of her bedroom, her head fuzzy and full of cotton wool from the three glasses of champagne she’d had the night before, her body aching in all sorts of unexpected places.
For a single second she simply lay there, enjoying the sunshine, and then memory slammed into her, again and again, as the events of the last evening played in her mind in an unwelcome and humiliating reel.
What had she been thinking? During the half-hour ride in Alessandro’s limo the night before, she’d been too dazed to truly consider what had happened or its potential consequences, and so she’d simply blanked her mind, stripping off her clothes and falling into bed as soon as she’d returned home, surrendering to the welcome numbness of sleep, except it hadn’t claimed her.
She’d tucked her knees up to her chest and scrunched her eyes shut tight, trying to block out the memories that insisted on coming anyway, relentless and so awful. So embarrassing, so full of shame and regret, as well as pleasure and wonder.
She could hardly believe that she’d been so heedless, welcoming Alessandro’s kiss, begging him to touch her…and losing her virginity on Henry Dillard’s desk. How could she have let that happen? How could she have let herself be so shameless, so weak? What if this ruined everything?
Now, in the cold light of morning, she let out a choked sound, something between a sob and a horrified laugh, as she considered what she’d done.
Of course, it had been amazing. There was no denying or hiding from that stark truth. She’d been transported to a world of pleasure she’d never even known existed, and yet, despite that, she hated how in thrall she’d been to her own body, as well as to Alessandro’s touch.
He had a hold over her that she both resented and feared, and the result was she’d lost something precious, something that had been hers, in the blazing heat of a single moment…and to a man who most likely didn’t like her and intended to fire her in the foreseeable future.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Stupid and shameful and wrong.
Slowly, still aching, Mia rolled out of bed and headed for the shower, more than ready to wash away the scent of Alessandro from her skin. She turned the water up to as hot as she could stand and let it beat down on her until her skin turned pink and then red.
She knew she needed to get out, get dressed for work, get going. She needed to face Alessandro, even if she dreaded it with every cell of her being. Judging from his reaction last night, he regretted their encounter as much as she did, something which was both a relief and an insult. Still, it was better for them to do their best to move past it, and pretend it had never happened…if they could.
Mia felt as if the memory of Alessandro, the strength of his body, the sureness of his touch, was emblazoned on her brain, branded into her skin. It was going to take a huge act of will even to pretend to forget it. Him. And yet she had to. The alternative was inconceivable.
Quickly Mia stepped out of the shower and dressed in a crisp skirt suit of navy blue with a pale grey blouse. She put her hair in a tight bun, determined to look every inch the efficient PA and not the kind of woman who had sex late at night in an empty office. Because she wasn’t that person. At all.
Since she was eighteen, Mia had been focused on one thing—finding her freedom and forging a career that would give her independence and security. She’d seen how her mother had been miserably beholden to her father throughout their entire marriage, before the release of her death; she’d lived through the awful ups and downs, her father’s sudden, inexplicable rages, his emotional blackmail and silent disapproval, his moods and tempers dictating the unhappy tone of their fractured home, and all the while her mother too scared and unsupported to leave.
Diana James had insisted she loved her husband, even when he’d never shown a reason to deserve that love. Mia had been desperate to escape it herself, as soon as she could. And she had vowed she would never lose her control because of a man—any man—the way her mother had. Yet last night, if just for a few moments, she had lost control, willingly, joyfully…and she was horrified by it.
Resolutely Mia gazed at her pale reflection in the mirror, determined to put last night behind her completely. Hopefully Alessandro would do the same, and she would return to being the useful PA he required…and nothing more.
The office seemed quiet as Mia headed up in the lift, everyone working quietly with their heads down, seeming apprehensive. Alessandro hadn’t started firing people yet, and perhaps if what he’d implied last night was true, he wouldn’t.
But who was the real man? The lover who had shown her a hint of vulnerability in his eyes, or the ruthless tycoon everyone said he was? Who did she want to believe in—and did it matter anyway?
At her desk, Mia let out a little sigh of relief as she looked around and didn’t see Alessandro anywhere. In an ideal world, she wouldn’t see him all day. She could organise the files he’d requested yesterday, and update her CV, just in case. After that, she’d just have to pretend to look busy until Alessandro issued some directives.
As it happened, Mia had barely sat down and clicked on her computer mouse before the lift doors opened and Alessandro strode onto the floor, emanating power and authority in a navy blue suit, looking freshly showered and shaven, reminding Mia of how he’d smelled. Felt.
She tensed where she sat, memories assaulting her senses, and then his steel-g
rey gaze clashed with hers before he nodded towards the office doors.
‘Miss James…?’
Wordlessly Mia rose on rubbery legs and followed him into the office. Her heart was thudding unpleasantly as she closed the door behind her, trying to avoid looking at the desk. Last night when he’d hoisted her up on it, she remembered papers falling, the phone skittering across the polished surface with a clatter. Now, at least, everything had been neatly replaced and there was no way to tell or even guess what had happened there last night.
But Mia remembered. As much as she was trying to forget, she remembered… Alessandro’s hands on her hips, her mouth pressed against his shoulder. The way she’d cried out…
Resolutely she looked away from the desk and fixed her gaze on an innocuous spot on the wall. She wasn’t ready to look at Alessandro’s face and see what expression resided there, derision, desire, or just remembrance. She couldn’t handle any of it.
Alessandro cleared his throat. ‘Last night…’ he began, and then stopped.
Mia reluctantly forced herself to look at him, even though everything in her resisted. His face was bland and closed. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but she shivered just from the coolness in his eyes.
Last night. The two words did not bode well.
Somehow she forced herself to speak, even though her lips were dry, her voice a papery thread. ‘Last night didn’t happen.’
‘While I’d like to agree with you, I can’t.’ Alessandro met her gaze unflinchingly. ‘We didn’t use birth control.’
Shock jolted through Mia at the stark realisation but she kept her gaze and voice steady as she answered. ‘I’m on the pill.’
Alessandro raised his eyebrows, seeming sceptical. ‘You are? Even though you were a—?’
‘Yes.’ She cut him off. ‘It was to regulate my periods, if you must know.’ Except she had, in the welter of her own emotions, forgotten to taken it that morning. And now that she thought about it, with the news of the takeover, she hadn’t taken one yesterday either. It had hardly seemed important, considering her lack of a sex life, and yet now…
Mia swallowed hard. Surely skipping just two didn’t matter so much? She’d take one later today, in any case. The amount of risk wasn’t worth telling Alessandro about. She could not possibly handle his reaction to a potential pregnancy right now. She couldn’t get her head around it herself.
‘Fine,’ Alessandro said. ‘It’s good to know a pregnancy will not be a concern.’
A pregnancy.
No, she really could not handle thinking about that now. And it was surely so very unlikely. ‘No, it is not a concern,’ she managed.
‘And you do not need to worry about any possible disease,’ Alessandro continued steadily, starkly. Something else Mia hadn’t even considered, not remotely, although if she’d been thinking straight, she surely would have.
‘That’s good to know. Thank you.’
They stared at each other, the tension in the room ratcheting up with every second until it felt unbearable. ‘Then there’s nothing more to say,’ Mia said finally, desperate to have this over, to move beyond this moment, and more importantly, beyond last night’s moment. ‘So, as far as both of us are concerned, last night didn’t happen. We can move on as if it didn’t. We need to, for the sake of…everything.’ She drew herself up, determined to do just that. ‘Is there anything you need from me today?’
Alessandro stared at her for a long, hard moment, a muscle ticking in his jaw. ‘I’m going to write a letter to all of Dillard’s clients,’ he said at last. ‘You can take it down and then show me a draft copy.’
Mia’s heart tumbled in her chest as she felt a weird mix of relief and disappointment that she didn’t want to understand. Alessandro was doing what she wanted…trying to act normal. ‘Very good,’ she said, and turned from the room to get her laptop.
A few minutes later Alessandro was sitting behind his desk and Mia was in front of it, the laptop opened on her knees, her fingers poised on the keyboard, as professional a look as she could manage on her face. This was going to work. She was going to make this work.
She was not going to think about how Alessandro had felt or smelled or tasted, how she’d come apart in his arms and was still desperately trying to put herself together. She wasn’t. She absolutely wasn’t.
And yet the memories still bombarded her as Alessandro began dictating the letter. It took all her mental power, all her energy and willpower, to focus on the words forming on the screen in front of her instead of what had happened between them last night.
It will get better, Mia told herself. The memory will fade.
This was going to work.
This wasn’t working.
Alessandro couldn’t keep from the glaringly obvious fact as he dictated his letter to Mia. Twice he had to start over, correcting himself, because he was hopelessly distracted by the sight of her, looking as prim and proper as you please, yet still, amazingly, seeming sexy to him.
That tight topknot made him long to pluck the pins from it and run his fingers through the spill of straight, wheat-gold hair. The crisp grey blouse with the mother-of-pearl buttons seemed to be begging to be undone, button by tiny button. The crisp navy suit would look far better crumpled on the floor.
‘Mr Costa?’ Her voice, crisp and precise, broke into his scattered thoughts. ‘You were saying…?’
‘I think, considering the circumstances, you should call me Alessandro.’
Something sparked in her eyes. ‘I do not wish to consider the circumstances, and I didn’t think you did, either.’
‘I meant,’ Alessandro clarified, ‘as your employer.’ But he hadn’t been thinking of her as his employee. Not at all.
A faint pink touched Mia’s cheeks, making her look all the more delectable. Making him want her all the more. ‘Of course,’ she murmured, and turned towards back to her laptop, her gaze focused determinedly on the screen.
Alessandro went back to dictating the letter, but again he lost his train of thought, which infuriated him. This was not who he was. This was not who he could be.
‘Mr… Alessandro?’ Mia prompted. Again. Her eyebrows were raised, her eyes so very blue.
‘Type up what you have,’ Alessandro said abruptly. ‘And I’ll look at it then. Thank you.’
Wordlessly Mia nodded, rising from her seat in one elegantly fluid movement. Alessandro couldn’t keep from watching her as she left the room, noting her long, slim legs in sheer tights, the low navy pumps. As far as he was concerned, she could have been wearing a negligee and stiletto heels. Her staid, puritanical outfit still enflamed him, and that was most definitely a problem.
The door clicked shut softly behind her, and Alessandro swivelled in his chair, too restless to get back to his work, although he certainly had plenty to do. He needed to weed through Dillard’s clients and decided which ones were worth keeping. He needed to woo the clients he wanted to stay on and make sure that they did. And he needed to find positions for the employees he intended on keeping, and offer redundancy packages to the ones he didn’t.
Which made him think of Mia. He’d intended on keeping her in the office for at least another week, to help smooth the transition period, but that thought felt like torture now. He could at least check on the details for her eventual transfer, to make sure it happened as easily and quickly as possible.
He was always generous with his offers, and so he would be with Mia. It made the most sense. It filled him with relief, that he could be proactive about arranging her inevitable transfer. All it would take were a few phone calls.
Alessandro felt his shoulders loosen at the thought of being free of this alarming obsession he’d developed—and over someone so unprepossessing. He’d been with women, many women, who were far more attractive and alluring than Mia James, with her straight hair and English schoolgirl l
ooks. What was it about her that affected him so much, drove him to such irritating distraction?
It didn’t matter. His involvement with Mia James was thankfully going to come to an end. He was just reaching for the phone to make the first call when a knock sounded on the door.
‘Yes?’ he barked.
‘It’s Miss… Mia. May I speak to you?’
After a second’s hesitation he put the phone down. ‘Come in.’
She slipped into the office, her blue eyes looking crystal-bright as she met his gaze, a hint of determined challenge to the tilt of her chin.
‘I wanted to speak to you.’
‘About?’
She angled her chin a bit higher. ‘I’d like to request a transfer.’
Shock rooted him to the spot, the phone dangling from his hand. ‘A what?’
‘A transfer. I don’t think it is prudent for us to work together. You mentioned that you found positions for your employees when possible, so I’m asking for you to find me one.’ Her eyes blazed as they met his. ‘Somewhere preferably not in London.’
She wanted to be shot of him, Alessandro realised dazedly. Just as he wanted to be shot of her…so why did the thought rankle so much?
‘Where is this coming from?’ he asked, even though he knew. Of course he knew.
‘Where do you think?’ she returned sharply. ‘You mentioned my usefulness as your PA would only be for so long.’
‘But it’s not finished yet,’ he returned, surprised and a bit alarmed by his own annoyance. He’d been planning this very thing, and yet absurdly he resented her suggesting it first.
‘I think it is finished,’ Mia answered levelly, her tone brooking no disagreement. And, despite the instinctive, gut-level reaction that he had to argue with her, even to insist that she stay, Alessandro held his tongue. Mia wanted what he wanted. Surely he wasn’t so pig-headed as to resist simply because it was now her idea rather than his?