‘It’s not a relationship!’
‘No? Then tell me what it is.’
‘We’re attracted to each other and we’re…following that attraction…’ Yes, she had laid down the rules, but it still felt awful—cheap somehow—to refer to what they had as just sex. Furthermore, it was a lie. She thought about him a lot—analysed what they had over and over again. Did she mean anything to him? Was it really all about the sex for him and nothing else? Now he was telling her that it was more than just falling into bed and having fun twice a week. He was branching out from their arrangement. And while she didn’t want to go down any slippery slopes, the little hope thing was rearing its head once again, teasing her with scenarios she knew were wrong.
Or were they?
‘And would that be like dogs in heat?’
‘I don’t want you intruding into my life, Alessandro. You seem to have conveniently forgotten that I’ve been there before. I would have done anything for you back then.’
This, he recognised, was the sound of her raising the stakes, and it was reflected in the determined expression on her face. Take her on board in a full relationship, wherever that might lead, or else they kept what they had in boxes which were brought out on specific days and returned to their shelves as soon as the allotted time was over.
He could, of course, tell her that if the fairy-tale ending was what she was after then it was a promise too far. He could tell her that he had tried the total commitment thing with Victoria. It had crashed and burned, despite the fact that they were so utterly compatible in every way on paper, so there was no hope of it coming to anything with a woman who, theoretically, was the diametric opposite of him. But did he really want to do that? He was enjoying what they had, and when he thought about it it wasn’t just the mind-blowing sex. Why bring it all to an abrupt end and be left with that sour taste of unfinished business all over again?
That made no sense, and Alessandro prided himself on being someone who was coolly and unequivocally practical.
‘I’m not asking you to do anything for me,’ he drawled, although the concept was enticing. ‘But I’m not prepared to carry on a situation that involves us meeting up like thieves in the night and snatching a few minutes of passion before we slink back to our separate hideaways. I bet you haven’t told anyone about us.’
‘Charlotte knows.’
‘And would that be only because you share a house with her, so it would be virtually impossible to conduct any situation without her finding out?’ Her silence gave him the answer and he leaned towards her. ‘I want more of you, Megan. Why don’t we give what we have a chance? See where it leads and stop consigning it to some kind of artificial timetable?’
If she wanted to raise the stakes, then he was willing to go along for the ride.
Megan swallowed. She wanted to tell him that she would need a little time to think it through—that way she could maintain her control—but the way he was looking at her, his dark eyes steady and utterly, utterly mesmeric….
And wasn’t this what she had secretly hoped for? That he would begin to consider a proper relationship with her? One that might actually stand a chance of going somewhere? She felt her heart begin to beat quickly. This was a step forwards for them, and, while she would take nothing for granted, she could either agree to relax her rigid timetable or else accept a situation, as he had put it, which would eventually end up being stifled by her self-imposed straitjacket.
The fact that he wanted to introduce her to some of his colleagues was also a big plus, because it indicated that at least he wasn’t ashamed of her—which was what she had felt seven years ago, when he had dumped her. Ashamed of the girl who had it in her to pop out of a birthday cake in front of his Very Important Business Opportunities, as she had afterwards referred to the pinstriped trio whose meeting she had so rudely gatecrashed.
‘When you say that we could give this a chance,’ she prodded, ‘what exactly do you mean?’
Put on the spot, Alessandro refused to concede further ground. ‘Do you want to come or not?’
‘I’m honestly not sure if I have anything suitable to wear….’
‘Which is why I am suggesting we go shopping.’
‘Go shopping?’
‘It’s something people tend to do now and again. Women seem to fall victim to the trend more often than men.’
‘I know what shopping is, Alessandro. I just can’t imagine it’s the sort of thing you would enjoy doing on a Saturday.’
Megan savoured this further indication of advancement in their relationship. Hope was shooting up inside her like the proverbial beanstalk from the fairy story.
‘It’s not how I usually pass my time on a Saturday,’ he agreed, ‘but needs must.’
‘You mean, you don’t trust me to buy my own clothes?’
‘I mean, I intend to buy whatever you need for you. If I tell you to go shopping with my credit card, you’ll spend the next five hours arguing why you won’t. Don’t even think of it, Megan,’ he said, seeing her open her mouth as this new thought dawned on her. ‘I’m paying because you’ll be coming to something at my request. You can wear whatever you want—bearing in mind that there’s no green-and-red dress code….’
‘Well…I guess I’m not doing anything much tonight….’
‘Good.’ He stood up, his mouth curving into a smile of triumph. ‘Then let’s go. You can leave that rucksack thing of yours here. No point going back to your house to change. You can come back here. We leave at six.’
Like someone suddenly finding that a gentle fairground ride was turning out to be a roller coaster stomach-churner, Megan was vaguely aware of a certain amount of manipulation. But when she tried to follow through with that suspicion, she found that all she could actually think about was the fact that this was the first really normal thing they had done since they had locked themselves away in their little bubble of sexual gratification.
She looked at the rucksack lying on the ground, as if it might just deliver the answer to the question she was asking herself—which was whether she should open this door or not. But she knew that she would. She had fought to be sensible, but the fact that he had broken off his engagement with Victoria because of her, because of the attraction he still felt to her, must mean something. That was the steady drip, drip, drip continually eroding her good intentions.
‘We’ll start at Selfridges, shall we?’ Alessandro said, before she had a chance to change her mind. Suddenly it was very important that she yield to what he wanted. ‘Unless you have somewhere else in mind?’
‘I guess I could do Selfridges….’
Several hours later and Megan had discovered that she could do a great deal more than Selfridges. Shopping with a wealthy Alessandro was a completely different affair from shopping with a broke Alessandro, and although she refused to allow him to buy her anything that wasn’t going to be worn that evening to the theatre, she still found herself the owner of a new pair of shoes, a fabulous dress, jewellery which she insisted she would wear just the once and then give back to him—because she couldn’t possibly accept a gift with that kind of price tag—a coat of the warmest, softest cashmere, and a selection of make up which she would never have been able to afford in a million years.
Over lunch, she made sure to stress her returns policy. ‘That jewellery is ridiculous, Alessandro,’ she said, toying with a fat, juicy prawn. ‘Anyway, where on earth would I ever wear it after tonight? And the coat…Well, it’s beautiful, but it just doesn’t feel right to accept stuff from you.’
Alessandro shrugged and declined to mention that he was accustomed to spending far, far more on the women he had dated in the past—women who had never had any qualms about accepting the tremendously expensive gifts that had been lavished upon them. Somehow he didn’t think that the observation would have gone down too well. He also declined to tell her that this was the first time he had ever physically gone shopping with any woman. It was a task which he preferred to l
eave to his personal assistant. And he decided to keep to himself the fact that he had actually enjoyed the expedition—enjoyed watching her parade in a selection of outfits for him to see, enjoyed seeing the way her eyes opened wide at the sheer beauty of some of the dresses. It had all given him a kick.
‘You can give it all back if it makes you feel better,’ he told her ‘But if you do it’ll all end up stuffed at the back of a wardrobe somewhere. I, personally, have no use for women’s clothing or jewellery.’
Megan looked at him. This was a different animal from the one she had known. Urban, sophisticated, blasé about the things money could buy—things that were well beyond the reach of most ordinary mortals. From out of nowhere came the uneasy thought that she was now out of his league even more than she had been seven years ago. At least then they had been broke together.
But she wasn’t going to think about that. She was going to enjoy the rest of the day and the evening ahead. So she smiled and didn’t say anything—but the prawns no longer looked quite as appetising as they had.
‘Who’s going to be at the theatre tonight?’ She changed the subject and closed her knife and fork conclusively on the remaining sad prawns on her plate. ‘Anyone exciting?’
‘Aside from me?’ Alessandro grinned at her.
‘Your ego’s showing again,’ she teased, relaxing after that brief spell of unwelcome thought. ‘Careful, Alessandro. If it gets any bigger then you won’t be able to get through the doors to the theatre.’
‘Well, my darling, you know you need only concern yourself with me.’
‘But what if there’s a really fantastic-looking guy there?’
‘Are you telling me that you’re on the lookout for another man?’
There was a chill note of warning in his voice.
‘I’m not your property, Alessandro.’
‘When it comes to my women, I don’t do sharing.’
‘Well, I would never dream of sleeping around, and I’m insulted that you would think that of me.’ She looked at him coldly, and eventually he gave her a conciliatory smile.
‘You’re right—and it’s good that we understand one another.’
He called for the bill and she watched as he left a wad of cash, which included a generous tip for the waitress. If there was one thing she couldn’t accuse him of being it was stingy, but it still took a little while for the slightly sour end of their shopping day to disappear, and it really wasn’t until she was standing in front of the mirror at a little before six that her spirits were once more where they should be.
With the whole outfit put together—the classic jewellery round her neck, the perilously high shoes adding a further four inches to her frame, the dress which clung in all the right places—she felt like a million dollars, and she felt even better when she saw the expression in his eyes as he stood watching her descend the staircase.
‘Maybe,’ he growled, taking her in his arms, ‘we should just keep the taxi waiting a few minutes.’
Megan laughed throatily and touched the extravagant string of diamonds at her neck. ‘I’m not missing a minute of this play, Alessandro Caretti!’
‘Are you telling me that I take second place in your life to a bunch of actors on a stage?’
‘I’m afraid so.’ She sighed and shook her head regretfully.
‘You know…’ he kissed her neck, which she wished he hadn’t because now her body was responding, opening up like a flower for him ‘…you’ll have to make up for that terrible insult later….’
‘Oh? Will I, really?’
Of course he was expecting her to spend the night at his house! It would be ludicrous to drive all the way out to her place from the West End at some silly time of night! The roller-coaster ride seemed to be picking up speed.
‘Yes,’ Alessandro told her gravely, ‘you will. And if you don’t mind, I’ll just check to make sure that you’re getting in the mood….’
He slid his hand under her dress, up along her thigh, and felt the stirrings of arousal as his finger slipped underneath the scrap of silk he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about ever since they’d purchased it in the lingerie department earlier that day. If the taxi hadn’t been there he would have yanked up that dress and taken her right there in the hall. He had never been in the grip of such uncontrollable passion in his life before. He removed his hand and smoothed down the dress with an audible sigh of regret.
When he looked at her, her face was flushed, her breathing uneven.
‘Stop that,’ he said unsteadily, and Megan gathered herself sufficiently to answer.
‘Stop what?’
‘Looking so damned sexy. An outing to the theatre doesn’t stand a chance when your mouth is begging to be kissed…along with every other part of your body….’
His cellphone beeped, and he picked up the call from the taxi driver, telling them that he was waiting outside. He should, he thought, have handed the job to his own driver, but a family illness had seen him off for the week. Now he would have to sit through the entire evening watching a musical in which he had no particular interest, making polite conversation to a bunch of people in whom he had only marginally more interest, when he knew that his woman was right there next to him, hot and eager and desperate to be kissed all over. Worse, they would have to wait at the mercy of a black cab to bring them back to the house late.
‘Duty calls,’ he said sourly, and Megan tiptoed to give him a fluttery kiss on his mouth—because it gave her a heady feeling of power to have him looking like that. As though she was the only woman in the world, as though he wanted to ravish her senseless on the wooden floor of his hall.
‘It’s going to be fun.’
‘I loathe musicals.’
‘This is going to be brilliant,’ Megan assured him as he helped her on with the coat. ‘The lead singer was recruited on a reality television show.’
‘And I loathe reality television shows even more. So put those two things together and I have no idea why I agreed to go in the first place.’ He folded her against him as they walked out to the taxi. ‘Just as well I shall have something to look forward to when we get back….’
But Megan was excited. It had been ages since she had last been to the theatre. It also made a nice change to be going out. Between seeing Alessandro and doing the routine business of her work, a lot of her extra-curricular hobbies had gone by the wayside. Her football games, which were on a Wednesday, had been ditched in favour of him. Thinking about it, so had a number of her friends outside work—including Robbie, whom she hadn’t seen since New Year’s Eve.
She frowned and wondered at how quickly her spare time was being eaten away.
She would have to do something about that—give Robbie a call in the week, see what he had been up to, maybe arrange to meet him for a drink.
Alessandro hadn’t mentioned the football coach for a while, so hopefully he wouldn’t mind her meeting him. Good friends should never be dropped in favour of a relationship, however preoccupying that relationship might be.
He also never spoke of Victoria, and all attempts to get him on the subject had been stillborn. It was as if she had never existed.
She looked at him in the darkness of the cab. Aside from the standard white shirt, he was in black. Black trousers, black jacket, black coat. He looked dangerous, but then he turned to her, smiled, and pulled her towards him, and Megan settled in the crook of his arm with a contented sigh.
‘Are you glad I persuaded you to come with me tonight?’ he asked softly, and after a moment’s hesitation Megan nodded—because what could be better than this? ‘And, in case I haven’t told you, you look amazing.’
‘Is it the sort of thing Victoria would have worn?’ The words had left her mouth before she could hold them back, and she could feel Alessandro stiffen next to her.
‘It is immaterial what Victoria would have worn or not worn. Don’t compare yourself to her. I don’t.’
Megan sank closer against him with a content
ed sound. ‘I know, and you don’t realise how much that means to me, Alessandro. That you don’t compare us. That you broke off your engagement because of me.’
She raised her head to look at him, but he was staring through the window, and in the darkness of the taxi she couldn’t make out the expression on his face.
CHAPTER SEVEN
MEGAN had expected the others in their party to be replicas of the pinstriped trio, but in fact, she was pleasantly surprised to find that they were neither old nor boring. One of the women, Melissa, was radiantly pregnant, and was keenly interested to hear everything about the school at which Megan taught—because, as she explained earnestly, although her baby was still only a seven-month bump, names had to be put on registers for private schools as early as possible. Places were so oversubscribed in certain boroughs.
‘Ideally, I’d like to move to the country,’ she confided, as they were swept along in the crowd to their seats. ‘But apparently that’s not where the money is. At least not the banking money.’
‘I’m going to move back to the country,’ Megan said wistfully. ‘As soon as I’ve got enough experience at my school. Maybe in a couple of years’ time. Somewhere green and pleasant, as they say. Lots of open fields and trees and rabbits.’
‘I don’t see Alessandro feeling comfortable around fields and trees and rabbits,’ Melissa said, one hand on her stomach.
‘Oh, I know! He’s definitely a city kind of guy! He enjoys the fast pace, and the cut-throat, watch-out-for-the-knife-in-the-back kind of lifestyle….’
Alessandro, who was right behind her, could hear every word—even though he was apparently keenly tuned in to a conversation about the stockmarket—and he wasn’t sure whether he liked the fact that Megan was discussing a future without him in it. Of course what they had would fizzle out in due course…they were both dealing with the process of successful closure of a relationship. The intensely gratifying sex would inevitably become mundane, at which point they would bid each other goodbye with a little sigh of relief that they were over one another at last. But shouldn’t he be the one to decide when that point in time came?
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