by Lynne Graham
‘Tabby’s pregnant again? My goodness…’ Pippa had to struggle to keep the dismayed disapproval out of her voice. After all, if her friend was soon to give birth to a third child at the tender age of twenty-three years, it was hardly Pippa’s place to comment. However, she was seriously tempted to ask Christien if an annual baby was a perquisite of Tabby having married into the top drawer of French society to which he belonged. Surely her poor besotted friend could only be expecting yet again because a mini football team of kids was what Christien’s unquenchable masculine ego demanded? Tabby might be blissfully happy with Christien but Pippa put that down to Tabby’s loving nature.
‘I’ll let her tell you all about it herself,’ Christien countered finally to bridge the awkward silence that had fallen. ‘You’re very quiet. Does a shopping trip in my sole company promise to be more than you can stand?’
Beneath Andreo’s steady appraisal, Pippa turned a guilty brick-red. Christien had seduced Tabby as a teenager and broken her heart. Their past misunderstandings had been resolved before their marriage a couple of years back but Pippa had never really warmed to her friend’s husband. That Christien himself should have guessed that fact, however, mortified her. ‘Don’t be silly. Your wife’s my friend, for goodness’ sake—’
‘Just tell yourself that you’re doing it for Tabby’s benefit.’ Christien’s cool, condescending amusement rarely failed to set Pippa’s teeth on edge. ‘Don’t worry. I’ve never considered your hostility as an issue personal to me…I know you dislike men.’
At that declaration, Pippa’s eyes almost shot out on stalks and she sped into the kitchen to gain the privacy to hiss, ‘Is that what you think? Well, let me disabuse you of the suspicion that I’m either gay or a man hater—’
‘I wasn’t aware—’ Christien sounded startled and well he might have done, for when he had brought his wife over to London in recent years Pippa had always been very quiet in his presence.
‘In fact right now I’m involved in a passionate affair with an Italian guy!’ Pippa asserted in defiant retaliation, hurt and offended by what he had said and desperate to disprove it.
At that rather shattering announcement, Christien just laughed out loud, smoothly assured her that she had misunderstood his meaning but that he was delighted to hear that her private life was flourishing. As she walked back into the hall, mentally kicking herself for rising to Christien’s provocative bait, Tabby’s husband arranged to pick her up on the relevant date. Wondering if her embarrassment over her wild outburst would have subsided even partially by then, she cast aside the cordless phone.
Out in the hall, Andreo had heard most of that exchange. Initially he had only been surprised that Pippa could speak French with the speed and verbal virtuosity of a native but his mood had soon turned dark and stormy. Who the hell was the French guy she was chattering to? Why on earth had she looked so guilty? Evidently this Christien character was married to her friend yet she had seemed most unhappy to learn that her friend was pregnant again. Weren’t women usually overjoyed by that sort of news? Why had she gone into the kitchen to continue the dialogue in urgent secretive whispers? Her discomfiture at the risk of being overheard had been pronounced.
Was she in love with her friend’s husband? It struck Andreo as a quite likely scenario. In love with a married man and fighting it or in love and flirting like mad with the misbehaving bastard but idealistically resisting temptation and refusing to let the relationship become sexual? Was that why she had thrown her virginity away on a total stranger? In a bout of rebellious frustration over the male she could not have? Dio mio, even worse, Andreo reflected with bitter anger flaming through him like a burning arrow of provocation, had he, Andreo D’Alessio, been only a sexual substitute for some other man? Might that not explain why in the aftermath Pippa should be so very determined to try to deny and indeed forget their intimacy?
Her heart rate picking up speed, her throat dry, Pippa focused on Andreo’s lean, dark, devastating profile. She remembered begging for that beautiful, tormenting mouth of his. It had taken him only moments to reduce her to the level of a wanton again. She made herself recall how she had clung and sobbed in the frantic clutches of the sweet agony of ecstasy he had given her the night before and her palms grew damp and her face burned hot as the heart of a fire. All of a sudden she knew why she had hurled that crazy lie at Tabby’s husband. Why had she said she was having a passionate affair with an Italian? Her subconscious mind had spoken out loud what she did not have the courage to admit even to herself: she wanted to have that affair with Andreo!
‘Is there someone else in your life?’ Andreo demanded with shocking abruptness.
Taken aback, Pippa breathed, ‘Why are you asking me that?’
Andreo settled veiled dark eyes on hers and the strangest little frisson of incipient threat feathered down her taut spinal cord. ‘Is there someone?’
‘No…of course there isn’t…I don’t even know why you would ask me again,’ she muttered, almost smiling at the realisation that he saw her as rather more irresistible than she saw herself.
Andreo’s lean brown fingers clenched into a fist and thrust into the pocket of his well-cut chinos. After what he had overheard, she had to be lying to him. Yet she looked so innocent! He gazed steadily back at her until she had the grace to blush and drop her head. It infuriated him that he should still be as hungry as hell to feel her slim white body under his again.
Pippa tried to be really brave. ‘I’m…I’m very drawn to you…’
Andreo shrugged a powerful shoulder, stubborn jawline at a punitive angle, eyes bright with hard gold challenge. ‘You said it was just sex, amore. That’s good enough for me.’
Pippa paled. It wasn’t good enough for her. She wanted more. She wanted an open ticket, a proper relationship, the chance of a future with him? Maybe even wedding bells? Did dinosaurs still walk the earth? Or had he stolen her every brain cell? Furious with him for forcing her to face how deep his hold on her already went, she pulled open her front door. ‘You’re my boss. Let’s leave it at that,’ she told him woodenly.
Dark fury claimed Andreo for a long, timeless moment. She blew hot, she blew cold. How dared she do that to him? How dared she try to play him at his own game? In that instant, in proud, angry denial of his own fierce, flaring reaction to yet another rejection from her, Andreo was tempted to snatch her up into his arms and carry her into the bedroom and put the ‘you’re my boss’ embargo to the ultimate test. It was his belief that she would crumble. She was his woman. Didn’t she know that? His every aggressive instinct assured him that he could prove that to her. As soon as he got the chance, however, he intended to check out the identity of the married French guy.
When Andreo had gone, Pippa slumped. She felt horribly let down. Somehow she had lost the plot, for the instant she’d advanced he had seemed to change tack and cool off instead of responding to her greater honesty. Now she could only feel embarrassed that she had harboured naive girlish dreams about a male whose interest in her was unashamedly sexual. She had heard some women say that it was perfectly possible to enjoy sleeping with a guy without emotion getting involved. But she had only shared a bed with Andreo once and already her emotions were in absolute turmoil and he seemed to be occupying her every waking thought. There was a lesson to be learned there, she reflected unhappily.
‘I need time to bone up on the latest projects.’ The following morning, Cheryl angled a bright, determined smile at Pippa. ‘You’ll have to stand in for me at today’s meeting.’
Secure in the knowledge that she had no intention of remaining at Venstar, Pippa was able to tolerate Cheryl’s barefaced cheek in demanding that she take her place in the hot seat.
Ricky Brownlow accompanied Pippa into the lift, clearing his throat to say, ‘The directors asked for you specifically. Miss Long was nervous yesterday and Mr D’Alessio became quite impatient with her.’
In the act of wondering why Ricky now seemed to take it upon
himself to make excuses for Cheryl, Pippa drew in a short sharp breath at the more challenging news that Andreo would be present at the meeting.
She saw him the minute she entered the room. He looked spectacular and she found it almost impossible to drag her eyes from his lean, powerful face. In a navy business suit, silver-grey shirt and silk tie, he stood more than half a head taller than the men around him. The high heels she had selected from the back of her wardrobe that morning clicked on the polished wood floor. He swung round and watched her progress towards the circular conference table: a tall, slender woman with a tumbling mane of cinnamon curls and blue eyes concealed behind large spectacles with dark frames that only accentuated the delicacy of her fine bone structure and the purity of her skin.
For a split second, when Andreo studied her without any hint of familiarity, Pippa believed she was about to succumb to an attack of stage fright, and then a director voiced an enquiry, helpfully prompting her into her usual working efficiency. She delivered a detailed breakdown of the figures that had caused Cheryl such grief a day earlier. Nobody was left in any doubt that she knew her field inside out and backwards.
On that same score, Andreo suffered a rare attack of conscience for he could not disprove Pippa’s belief that his criticism of her appearance had led to the promotion of an unsuitable candidate over her head. Yet he could barely credit that a single censorious comment from him could be responsible for the downright stupid decision to appoint Cheryl Long to a position for which she was demonstrably unfit.
As silence fell in the wake of the question-and-answer session Pippa studied Andreo, wanting him to look at her, needing him to notice her, shaken by how fierce that craving was. His intent dark golden scrutiny rested on her for only the briefest moment. But for Pippa, while that moment lasted it was as though their companions just faded out from her awareness. Butterflies broke loose in her tummy and an irresistible urge to smile almost overcame her self-discipline.
‘You have an exceptional grasp of financial planning,’ Andreo acknowledged with approval.
An unearthly silence fell round the table.
At the compliment, Pippa turned pink with pleasure. Andreo sprang upright and shifted a lean staying hand in an indication that he would like her to remain behind. Almost unbearably conscious of the veiled curiosity of her companions, she hovered until he finally turned back to her. ‘I’d like to discuss your future with Venstar over dinner this evening. We’ll go straight from the office and eat early…if that suits you?’
‘Er…yes, of course,’ Pippa muttered hastily, wondering under what terms she was being invited. Strictly business as she herself had requested? She could not fault his present attitude to her. His attention had not lingered on her once and now, in receipt of her agreement, he swung away to deal with someone else. He was driving her out of her mind, she conceded wretchedly. He was behaving like her boss and she couldn’t bear it! Yet wasn’t that how she had asked him to behave? But she couldn’t handle being treated as though she were merely another anonymous employee. She felt absolutely gutted when he no longer looked or smiled at her.
‘You want me too…’ Andreo had told her and he had been much more on target than she had been prepared to admit. Was she guilty of being a closet romantic who needed to dress up sex with more lasting feelings? For a deeper relationship was not on offer, was it? How could it be? Andreo had been upfront about the fact that his time at Venstar would be brief. He wanted to go to bed with her again. He had been outstandingly frank on that score and why should he not have been? He was a notorious womaniser and the last guy alive on whom a sane woman would focus romantic expectations. Why couldn’t she meet him on the same ground and accept that all she would ever share with Andreo would be a physical relationship? In ten days she would be packing to leave London for France and embarking on a new phase of her life. Why didn’t she just reach out and take what she wanted for the next week and a half?
An affair limited by time boundaries that would ensure that she did not get too involved and as a result…hurt. An affair on her terms. She would be in control. It wouldn’t, it couldn’t get messy within the space of a few days. In such a truncated time frame there was surely no room for complications or pain. Her chin came up, eyes alight with hope and pure bubbling happiness. She could have him for a little while, enjoy him the way one enjoyed luxurious chocolates and then go back on a normal healthy and sensible diet.
‘U were right. I want u 2,’ she texted Andreo before she could lose her nerve.
Travelling in his limo across the city Andreo read that message with pleated dark brows and wondered why she had changed her mind. Had his suspicion that she was hooked on her friend’s husband been way off target? It seemed it might well have been and he winced, wondering why he had been so unusually fanciful. Undoubtedly there was a more reasonable explanation than that which had appealed to his more cynical streak. Was he becoming overly distrustful of women? Almost simultaneously, the grim mood that had settled over Andreo and that he had refused to acknowledge evaporated. He pictured Pippa as she had looked in the conference room that morning: sunshine firing her vibrant hair, eyes bright as gemstones against her fine porcelain skin. Even the most fleeting thought of her stirred a dulled ache of arousal in his groin.
‘Wise woman. C u l8r,’ he responded by text.
His PA called Pippa to tell her what time she would be picked up at the rear entrance. The afternoon drifted past Pippa while she lost herself in a daydream. By the time she emerged from the building, having spent an inordinate amount of time fussing with her hair, she was on a nervous high of anticipation. A chauffeur swung out of the long silver limousine waiting by the kerb and opened the passenger door for her. Endeavouring to act as though limos were two a penny in her world, she climbed in.
Andreo surveyed her with burnished golden eyes framed by black spiky lashes. He looked incredibly handsome and her heart raced so fast she felt giddy and breathless.
‘So now you’re mine on request, bella mia…’ he breathed, savouring the syllables in the most impossibly sexy style.
As he urged her into connection with his big powerful frame, she blushed at the reality that she could barely wait for him to touch her. He meshed one long-fingered hand into her bright hair and claimed her lips with hungry, driven urgency. She shivered and pushed up against him, temporarily so bereft of anything but her own overwhelming need to connect with him again that the move was instinctive.
‘We have business to discuss,’ Andreo groaned, drawing back from her.
‘What sort of business?’
But the limo had come to a halt and the dialogue was shelved until they were seated at a corner table in a fashionable restaurant.
‘You’ve suffered an injustice at Venstar. If that was—indirectly—my fault, I can only apologise. Unfortunately, the company’s choice of candidate, however inappropriate, cannot be deprived of the job without good reason and establishing grounds takes time,’ Andreo murmured dryly. ‘In the short term it makes more sense for me to find a better position for you in another company.’
Pippa had grown very tense. ‘I don’t need your help—’
Andreo expelled his breath on an impatient hiss. ‘I’m not offering help. I’m trying to redress a wrong. There’s a subtle distinction.’
An uneasy flush had lit her cheekbones. She was convinced that he only felt he ought to intervene on her behalf because she had slept with him and that belief mortified her. ‘What’s done is done…I can look after myself—’
‘I’d also like to see you achieve a status commensurate with your abilities—’
‘Don’t you think that I can manage that on my own?’ Pippa was angry at being patronised. ‘You’re not responsible for me—’
‘Maybe I feel responsible.’ Andreo surveyed her with brooding dark eyes. ‘But naturally I’ll respect your wishes.’
Unexpectedly, amusement afflicted Pippa and melted her annoyance. ‘Will you really? Even thoug
h you think my wishes are rubbish and you really hate people disagreeing with you? Will I have to grovel to get back in with you again?’
Andreo’s appreciative gaze narrowed to a blazing sliver of raw gold. ‘Just share my bed, amore. I’ve thought about nothing but you for thirty-six hours.’
Her mouth ran dry, a wanton flame lighting low in her pelvis.
‘Are you hungry?’ Andreo asked thickly.
‘Not really but…’ Her voice faded for Andreo had already sprung upright.
Three minutes later, he had swept her back out of the restaurant and settled her back into the limo. Without hesitation he had shown her that he would not allow conventional expectations to come between him and what he wanted. The atmosphere between them sizzled. She felt dizzy with wicked anticipation.
CHAPTER SIX
ANDREO had taken a penthouse apartment for the remainder of his stay in London.
He opened the door on the vast impressive hall, linked his lean fingers with Pippa’s and walked her down to a bedroom as big as the entire ground floor of her home. She hovered in the centre of the carpet, suddenly desperately shy, realising that alcohol had blunted her inhibitions on the night of the party.
‘Every time I look at you, I want to take your clothes off,’ Andreo confided, shedding his tie and his jacket and tossing both aside with flattering enthusiasm.
She blushed to the roots of her hair. ‘I’m glad I didn’t know that at the meeting today. You seemed so distant.’
Andreo laughed huskily, strolling forward with easy assurance. ‘Now you know why…I have a very active imagination. All guys are the same, cara mia.’
He untied her wrap top, took it off and tugged her closer. She kicked off her shoes, felt her skirt give at the waist as he unzipped it. When she stepped out of the skirt, he flipped her round, clamped her to his all-male muscular frame and crushed her mouth with passionate hunger below his.