by Sarah Morgan
And clearly she wasn’t used to getting into the back of a limousine. Accommodating her sudden movement, her skirt slid up to mid-thigh and Alessio’s attention was momentarily diverted. Fabulous legs, he thought absently, his libido acting like a break on his thought processes. Who would have thought that Lindsay Lockheart was hiding a body like that under her sober, serious black skirt? Those long, shapely legs appeared to be encased in sheer stockings with a hint of a sheen and Alessio found himself wishing that her skirt were just slightly shorter…
Then she tugged the skirt down and Alessio started to breathe again.
‘Let me get this straight—’ trying to ignore the vicious ache in his loins, he dragged his gaze away from her slender ankles and leaned an arm on the roof of the car ‘—you’re offering to warm my bed in the Caribbean?’
‘No, I’m not.’ She turned her head and her blue eyes connected with his. ‘You may think you’ve won, but winning doesn’t matter to me. All that matters is protecting Ruby. And if stepping into her shoes protects her job, then fine, I’ll work for you.’ Her tone was cool and collected, but he saw that her pupils were dilated and her breathing was rapid and shallow. Her fingers clutched her bag tightly and Alessio suddenly had a disconcertingly clear image of her naked and squirming on his silk sheets, those same slender fingers curled around a certain part of him.
How much of a nudge would it take to push her from prim to passionate?
He decided to push her a little further out of her comfort zone. ‘My client is recovering from the end of a disastrous marriage. He needs relaxation and legal counsel.’ Was she wearing lipstick? He didn’t think so but there was a tempting sheen to her lips. ‘A relationship counsellor would be about as helpful on this trip as a blizzard at a barbecue.’
‘I’m not accompanying you in my role as relationship counsellor.’ She tucked her bag neatly by her side, but still she didn’t look at him. ‘I worked for a year in a law firm in London when I left college. You can give me a full brief. Whatever it is you expect of Ruby, I’m sure I’ll be able to fulfil it. And I can relax, Alessio, if that’s what’s worrying you.’ But every angle of her body shrieked tension. She looked like someone who was on the verge of snapping in two.
The trip was clearly going to be a nightmare for her. ‘Are you doing this to save your sister’s job or to prove to yourself that your brain is stronger than your body?’
She stilled. ‘I don’t need to prove anything.’
‘So it’s all about your sister.’ But he didn’t believe that for a moment. He sensed that there was much, much more behind her acceptance than a desire to protect her sister’s job. He also sensed that his careless challenge had touched something deep inside her. ‘You think you can make it through a whole week without lecturing me or my client on love and marriage?’
She bit her lip—the same lip he couldn’t stop staring at. ‘Of course.’
‘Or sleeping in my bed?’
‘That will be the easy part.’
Alessio studied her profile thoughtfully. What had promised to be a mundane, uneventful business trip suddenly seemed full of interesting possibilities. ‘What happens when emotions overcome your rational side, Lindsay?’
‘Making decisions based on emotions is always a mistake. I don’t let that happen.’
Alessio’s eyes dropped to the perfect curve of her mouth and drifted down to the slim column of her neck. ‘Are you saying that you’ve never made an impulsive decision based on an emotion?’
‘No.’ Her tone was crisp. ‘And I’m sure that you haven’t, either. Even when you’re in bed with a woman I’m wiling to bet that part of you stays detached. You exercise control over your emotions all the time and you’re much too cynical to allow yourself to be taken for a ride.’
Surprised by her insight, Alessio laughed. ‘You might be right about that. All right, Lindsay Lockheart—’ he reached out a hand and took the passport she held out to him ‘—let’s see how an incurable cynic and a relationship counsellor get on when confined in a small space. I have a feeling that the next week is going to be interesting.’
Private jet. Why did he have to own a private jet?
She’d been hoping for safety in numbers for their flight to the Caribbean, instead of which it was just her and Alessio and a discreet cabin staff who only materialised when something was needed.
Trying not to be overawed by the sumptuous interior of the plane, Lindsay steadily called her way through her list of clients, relieved to have something to do that didn’t involve talking to Alessio Capelli. ‘I know, Alison,’ she soothed as she listened to the latest round of developments in her client’s tempestuous marriage, ‘but do you remember what we talked about last time we met? About selective listening?’ Catching Alessio’s amused gaze, she gritted her teeth. ‘I’ll be back next week and we can talk about it then.’ Lindsay ended the conversation and dialled her next number, determined that he wouldn’t unsettle her, but all too aware of his own conversation.
‘Let her sweat, Jack,’ he drawled, the phone tucked between his cheek and his shoulder as he studied the screen of his laptop. ‘She’ll be lucky to walk away with the staff flat by the time we’ve finished with her.’
Lindsay gritted her teeth, kept her own call as brief as possible and tried to ignore the worsening pain in her head.
When he finally hung up, she glared at him. ‘Don’t you ever feel guilty? That poor woman has probably given the best years of her life bringing up his children and making him a home, while he was off picking a younger model.’
Alessio stretched his legs out in front of him, completely relaxed. ‘That “poor woman” abandoned her two young children to pursue her affair with her ski instructor.’
Taken aback, Lindsay frowned. ‘Oh—that’s terrible. The poor man. Is he doing all right?’
‘He will be by the time I’ve finished.’ Alessio gave a deadly smile as he pulled a file out of his briefcase. ‘Revenge is sweet. We’ll get her where it hurts her most.’
Lindsay ignored that comment. ‘How are the children?’
‘Better off without her.’ Alessio opened the file and scribbled something in the margin of the first page while Lindsay watched him, deeply troubled.
‘However deep his own pain, I’m sure he wouldn’t want to hurt the mother of his children.’
‘Are you?’ Alessio reached for a file from the table. ‘That’s why you’re not a divorce lawyer.’
Lindsay put down her appointments diary carefully. ‘You can’t apply cold, hard facts to people’s relationships. It just doesn’t work. It’s important to delve deeper. I’m immediately asking myself why she would do a thing like that. Why would any mother leave her children? Was she depressed or something?’
Alessio gaze was faintly mocking. ‘I think it’s fair to say that she was extremely depressed once she realised that she’d trashed her chance of receiving a generous settlement.’
Lindsay lifted her fingers to her forehead, telling herself that his warped humour and lack of sentiment was good. If he kept talking like that it would make it easier to ignore the chemistry that still managed to crackle between them. Chemistry that made it impossible for her to relax.
How was she going to survive a week with him?
It wasn’t that she had doubts about her own willpower, because she didn’t; it was more that their powerful sexual connection stirred up something dark and ugly in the depths of her brain. Something that she didn’t want to face.
Feeling a flicker of panic, she concentrated her mind on work. ‘People usually have reasons for the way they act, Alessio. If she left her children, then—’ her hand dropped to her lap as she pondered the issue ‘—perhaps she didn’t want children in the first place. Did he pressure her? Was he a lot older than her? Was parenthood an issue that they discussed before they married?’
Incredulous dark eyes met hers. ‘Accidenti, how would I know? I’m a lawyer, not a psychiatrist.’ With an impatient flick o
f his long fingers, Alessio flipped through the pages.
‘But surely they should try some form of counselling before they just give up. He should let her come back and try again. There are children involved—’
‘What makes you think she wants to come back?’
Appalled, Lindsay stared at him. ‘Doesn’t she?’
He lifted his gaze to hers. ‘Lindsay—’ his voice held a warning note ‘—you’re doing it already. Ignoring the facts and looking at the emotions.’
‘Emotions are important.’
‘But they’re your emotions,’ he pointed out gently, ‘not my client’s.’
‘But the children—’
‘You seem particularly sensitive to this situation. Are you this emotionally involved with every case you deal with? No wonder you’re always so tense.’
‘I’m not tense.’ She was agonisingly aware of him, of his powerful shoulders and his hard, handsome face. Why is it, she wondered desperately, that a person can still be devastatingly attractive even when they are so deficient in other more important qualities? ‘You hate women, don’t you?’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Is this my cue to say that some of my best friends are women?’
‘That’s not friendship.’
His smile was impossibly attractive. ‘Friendship means different things to different people.’
And she was in no doubt as to what it meant to him. ‘But you seem to make it your life’s work to make sure that women don’t profit from marriage.’
‘Only when the purpose of their marriage was profit. I don’t believe that marriage should be a source of income.’ His long bronzed fingers played idly with his pen and she lifted her own fingers and rubbed her forehead again. The dangerous mix of cool and charismatic was making her head spin.
‘It’s the source of your income,’ she pointed out, and his smile widened.
‘Touché.’ He glanced up as a uniformed girl sashayed down the plane with a tray of refreshments. ‘Ah—supper. Are you hungry, Lindsay?’
Her head was getting worse and to make matters worse her stomach was starting to churn. ‘Actually, no. But thank you.’ She wished once again that she hadn’t left her pills at home. This whole situation was going to be difficult enough without having to do it with a headache. ‘Perhaps this would be a good time for you to tell me something about the objective of this trip. If I’m to assist you, I’d better know something about the case.’
‘My prospective client hasn’t yet appointed legal counsel,’ Alessio purred. ‘He simply wishes to discuss his situation. I’ve agreed to listen.’
‘So he’s not even sure he wants a divorce?’
‘He knows he wants a divorce—he just hasn’t yet decided how to go about it. Or who he wants to represent him.’
‘So he might choose you.’
‘If he can afford me, he’ll choose me.’ Alessio suppressed a yawn and Lindsay shot him a bemused glance.
‘Why do you do this? You obviously don’t need the money.’
‘I enjoy the mental stimulation. I’m naturally competitive. I enjoy winning.’
‘Do you really think it’s “winning” to destroy someone’s marriage?’
‘Marriages come to me ready broken.’ His dark eyes flashed a warning. ‘And lecturing me isn’t in your job description.’
‘But has your client even tried to fix what’s wrong? Perhaps if he talks to an outsider—someone who isn’t involved—’ Lindsay broke off and winced as another shaft of pain lanced her head. Her stomach churned horribly and she sat totally still, willing it to settle.
Not now. She didn’t need this to happen now.
Alessio frowned, his eyes fixed on her face. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘Nothing at all.’ She could just imagine how a man like him would react to a woman with a migraine. Deciding that it was best to make her escape while she could, she stood up gingerly. ‘If you’ll excuse me for a moment. I need to use the bathroom.’
His eyes lingered thoughtfully on her face. ‘Last door on the left.’
Wishing he weren’t studying her quite so intently, Lindsay followed his directions and pushed open a door. Had circumstances been different she would have been amazed by the beautiful bathroom that confronted her, but as it was she felt too ill to react with anything other than relief at the prospect of privacy.
Closing the door carefully behind her, she put her hand on her stomach and took a deep breath. How long was the flight to the Caribbean? She hadn’t even asked, but without her medication she knew that she was going to be ill for all of it. And it was going to be horribly embarrassing.
Why now? Why now, when she really needed to have her wits about her?
Her head throbbed and she just wanted to lie down, but the thought of doing so in front of Alessio prevented her from returning to the cabin. Instead she sat down on a chair and leaned her head against the cool, marble wall, closing her eyes.
If only the pain would stop—
She didn’t know how long she sat there. She was in too much pain to move; so much so that when the bathroom door opened, she barely reacted.
‘Maledizione,’ a rough masculine voice cursed softly, ‘how long have you been like this? Are you ill?’
‘Migraine. I’ll be OK. Just leave me alone for a bit.’ Her eyes tightly shut against the light, Lindsay felt a firm masculine hand touch her forehead and then he muttered something under his breath in Italian.
‘I thought you were looking pale. Why didn’t you say something before?’
‘Alessio, please just go away,’ she muttered. ‘You’re difficult enough to deal with in good health. Trust me, you don’t want to be in here. I think I might be sick.’
Apparently undeterred by that warning, he scooped her easily into his arms and carried her through a door that led to a bedroom. Then he laid her gently on the enormous king-size bed. The soft pillow was cool against her cheek and it felt so wonderful to lie down that she gave a moan of gratitude.
‘Maybe you’re not all bad,’ she mumbled. ‘At this moment in time I almost like you.’
His eyes gleamed. ‘Stop talking, Lindsay. You might say something you regret.’
‘Sorry. Forgot you don’t want women to like you.’ She winced as another bolt of pain shot through her head. ‘Well, this must be a first for you. Tucking a sick woman into your bed.’
‘Do you have tablets in your bag?’ He sounded cool and efficient and her eyes drifted shut, her teeth gritted against the pain.
‘Forgot them. Packed in a hurry.’ She snuggled deeper into the pillow. ‘I didn’t even know planes came with beds. I guess it’s an essential item for a man like you.’
‘Believe it or not, I don’t use it for seduction. Being able to sleep when I need to makes me more efficient,’ he said dryly, pulling a heavy silk cover over her. ‘So—what am I going to do with you?’
The pain was agonising and she winced as a shaft of light penetrated the window. ‘You’re going to pass me my phone. I need to try calling Ruby again—’
‘Stop thinking about your sister and think about yourself for once.’ A frown in his eyes, Alessio leaned across and closed the blinds, shutting out the beams of sunlight. ‘Better?’
She never would have believed him capable of being so thoughtful. But her stomach was still churning and she was terrified that she was going to be sick over his handmade shoes. ‘I think you’d better leave now—for your sake.’
It seemed as though he was following her advice because he rose to his feet and left the room. But he returned moments later with a bowl and placed it by the bed, apparently unfazed by the situation. ‘I’m going to fetch you a doctor.’
If she’d had more energy Lindsay would have laughed. They were in mid-air, for goodness’ sake. Where was he going to find a doctor?
Perhaps he meant that he was going to talk to a doctor on the phone, but what good would that do?
The pounding in her head was unbearable, but when sh
e heard voices next to her she gingerly opened her eyes and saw a man standing with Alessio.
With a frown, he sat down on the bed, asked her a few questions and then opened his bag.
Dimly in the back of her mind Lindsay was wondering how Alessio had managed to produce a doctor in mid-air, but her head was hurting too much to care and she was almost sobbing with gratitude as the doctor gave her medication and then left the room. Moments later, something deliciously cool was placed gently against her throbbing head.
She opened her eyes a slit and saw Alessio sitting next to her. He’d removed his tie and the sleeves of his white shirt had been rolled back to reveal strong forearms shadowed with dark hairs. As always he looked strong and capable and, surprisingly perhaps, not the slightest bit put out by her sudden illness. ‘The doctor thought this might help.’
‘Thank you. That feels wonderful. Why are you still here?’ But she felt intensely vulnerable and pathetically grateful to him for not walking out and leaving her alone. ‘I suppose your ego won’t allow a woman to claim a headache when she’s in your bed.’ Her remark made him smile.
‘Be quiet and go to sleep, Lindsay.’
‘You really are impossibly good-looking,’ she muttered as the medication started to take effect and her eyes drifted shut. ‘It’s a shame you’re such a selfish bastard.’
CHAPTER FOUR
SHE woke to find the pain gone and Alessio sprawled on the bed next to her, his eyes closed.
Still sleepy, Lindsay gazed at his dense lashes and the hard lines of his perfect bone structure.
So this was what it felt like to wake up next to a really, really gorgeous man. Like not getting up, she thought dreamily. Like spending all day lying in bed staring at him; counting those incredible eyelashes, studying the blue-black stubble that darkened his jaw, following the sensuous curve of his firm mouth.
Even relaxed and asleep, he looked strong and hotly masculine.