Читать книгу Innocent In The Boardroom: At Her Boss's Pleasure / Her Boss by Day... / How to Sleep with the Boss - Джанис Мейнард, Janice Maynard - Страница 13

CHAPTER SEVEN

“IS IT TOO much of an ask?”

If he had just insisted on dinner, ignored her protests, basically commanded her to relax in his company, then reluctantly she would have agreed, because she would have had no choice. And she would have donned one of her various suits because it was vitally important to maintain the boundary lines between them.

Boundary lines that, yet again, were in danger of being breached.

But that amused, mocking, “Is it too much of an ask?” question had got her back up.

How buttoned up did he think she was? Did he imagine that she was incapable of ever letting her hair down? Did he think that she was such a dull Miss Prim and Proper, glued to her tablet, that she quailed at the prospect of shedding her work clothes and taking time out to be a normal young woman?

Or maybe he thought that she just quailed when the shedding of her work clothes threatened to take place in his company. The man might have shown her a side that was curiously empathetic in his dealings with George, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still the arrogant guy who took what he wanted from women and chucked them out when he decided the time had come to move on.

But if he insisted that she go shopping—that she use the company account to buy stuff she probably would never wear again—then why not?

Toronto was full of wonderful shops. Shops that lined the streets or were packed into malls.

It was still so hot outside that she opted for the Eaton Centre. She had no idea what she intended buying. It wouldn’t take long. She loathed shopping. It was just one of those things that needed doing now and again, under duress.

Her mother had been a shopper. Kate could remember being dragged from shop to shop, spending money they could ill afford on garish outfits. By the age of eleven she had grown accustomed to sitting outside changing rooms, her head firmly planted in a book, while her mother tried on clothes. It had been toe-curlingly embarrassing. She had so desperately wanted her mother just to...to look like all the other mothers. How hard would that have been? Plain trousers? Tops that didn’t cling or have plunging necklines? Shoes that didn’t have five-inch heels and were never, ever worn with tight white jeans? How hard would it have been for her just to avoid wearing bright red?

Her mother had never complained at the little digs she had thoughtlessly inflicted over the years. The not-so-gentle hints that maybe she should tone it down. She had laughed and told her to loosen up a little—had tried to get her out of her jeans and baggy jumpers into the occasional dress. Shirley Watson might not have been good when it came to all the stuff Kate had considered crucially important, she might have failed to take the appropriate level of interest in parents’ evenings and homework projects, but she had never tired of trying to dress her up.

Kate had resisted all those efforts, and had continued doing so even when her mother had no longer been around, trying to steer her in a different direction from the one she wanted.

So now here she was.

And as she browsed through the shops she saw herself through her mother’s eyes. Always a little drab. Never making anything of what she had been given.

Those were Alessandro’s eyes also.

A streak of rebellion coursed through her, and as she shopped she was guiltily aware that she was enjoying shopping for maybe the first time in her life.

She wasn’t buying clothes to project the image she wanted the world to see. She was buying clothes because she liked the way they looked on her. Two dresses, a skirt that reached to mid-thigh, tops that had no buttons...and shoes that had heels and weren’t black.

Though she still avoided red.

She had no idea where they would be going after the ‘city exploring’ Alessandro had suggested, but she didn’t care.

She took her time soaking in the bath, washed her hair and left it loose, so that it tumbled down her back in a cascade of waves, and wore one of the dresses she had bought—a sleek, pale coral affair that did a little clinging. And she wore the high sandals she had bought too.

As she stared at her reflection in the mirror she could feel her heart beating wildly. Because this was not the Kate Watson she had spent her life cultivating.

This was a young woman who had a life—and an exciting one.

‘Okay...’ She grinned sheepishly at the stranger in the mirror. ‘So we both know that that’s a bit of an exaggeration—but what’s the harm in having a life for one evening? Dispelling the ideas Alessandro has about me? Mum, if you could see me now, you’d be proud.’

On the spur of the moment she took a selfie and sent it to her mother, and minutes later, as she headed down to meet Alessandro in the bar, she smiled at the response she got—which was a series of exclamation marks and smiley faces.

They had arranged to meet in one of the trendier bars in the hotel and it took her a few minutes to locate Alessandro, who was sitting at the back, shielded from view by the crowds of young people milling around.

Some of those young people were turning to look at her. Kate was conscious of that out of the corner of her eye, and it gave her a heady little thrill as she took some time to look at Alessandro...

He glanced up and there she was. For a few seconds Alessandro’s mind went completely blank. He had thrown down a challenge to her—dress like a woman and not like a robot—but he had doubted she would pick up the gauntlet. He had fully expected to see her in yet another tiresome version of ‘The Suit’, complete with discreet blouse buttoned all the way up, just in case a glimpse of her neck made her feel like a tart.

Not for a single passing second had he expected...

A vision.

He had seen her in a pair of shorts and a cropped top, but not even that had prepared him for just how beautiful she was when she stripped off the suit of armour.

She was tall anyway, but her heels escalated her to nearly six foot. Her long brown hair, streaked with shades of chestnut and deep gold, flowed down her back and over her narrow shoulders, and the dress, in some peachy colour that would have made most women look washed out, was glorious against her skin tone.

Glorious, and clinging in all the right places.

A surge of purely masculine appreciation kicked in with force. He watched as she glanced through the crowded bar, noticed as eyes were turned in her direction, realized that he wasn’t the only one in the room feeling a surge of purely masculine appreciation.

He relaxed back, half smiling as she sashayed towards him.

Who would have guessed that she could sashay? But then prissy, starchy suits weren’t conducive to sashaying, were they? Neither were sensible flat black pumps...

But a peach-coloured dress that lovingly cupped generous breasts, clung to a slender waist and fell to mid-thigh with a frilly little kick was definitely the stuff that sashays were made of...

He wondered whether it would be politically incorrect to insist in the contract for her promotion that she only wear clothes conducive to sashaying...

‘I see you went shopping...’ he said, rising to his feet as she approached him. In heels, she was almost at his eye level. Eye make-up. A charcoal colour on her lids that gave her a sultry, sexy look. And just a shimmer of lip gloss, emphasizing the fullness of her lips.

An inconvenient erection was making itself felt, pushing against his zipper.

‘You were right.’ Kate sat down hurriedly. Because, unusual and satisfying as it was to garner stares from other people, her prurient streak was just a little too insistent to ignore for very long. ‘My suits are way too formal and hot for the weather over here, so I’ve invested in one or two things...’

She discreetly tugged at the hem of the dress, which had ridden up and was exposing too much thigh for her liking.

‘Very wise,’ Alessandro murmured gravely. ‘Although you might have gone to the other extreme. If you plan on wearing sexy little numbers like this during the day...it might be a little too dressy...’

Kate’s breathing hitched and her eyes widened at the slow, lazy smile that lightened his features.

‘This is just a normal...er...dress,’ she stammered, mesmerized by the gleam in his eyes. ‘Nothing that any other woman in here isn’t wearing.’

Alessandro made a show of looking around him before resting his dark eyes on her flushed face. ‘But not many of them have the body to pull it off. You must know that.’

‘I...’

‘I admit I was a little surprised when I saw that you had taken me at my word. Aside from the time when I surprised you in your house, I honestly thought that your entire repertoire of clothes was comprised of suits in various shades of grey and navy...’

‘I don’t have much use for... I don’t usually...’

‘Paint the town red in snappy little numbers that attract attention?’

So what had she expected? That they would talk about work? When he had specifically told her that work was the last thing he wanted to think about after the day they had had with George and his sad, disturbing revelations?

‘I’ve never been one for going to clubs.’ She couldn’t conceal a shudder. ‘So, no, this is the one and only dress I have along these lines. Well, aside from the other one I bought today. Now I have two.’

‘Two? I don’t know why, but that strikes me as a little sad...’ He grinned, and she blushed and looked away.

‘You’re winding me up again, aren’t you?’

‘More stating a fact,’ Alessandro told her drily. ‘Maybe we should play truant tomorrow and go shopping again...’

‘Haven’t you made arrangements for us to visit the company that you’re interested in buying? I heard you on the phone when we were driving back from the hospital...’

‘Arrangements are made to be broken. The company isn’t going anywhere, and besides...’ he shrugged carelessly ‘...they’re keen to sell and they won’t find a better buyer than me.’

‘Well, thanks for the offer, but I’m all shopped out. It’s not something I do unless I have to, and—’

‘You really need to start living your own life, Kate, instead of the one prescribed by your mother’s lifestyle.’

He poured her a glass of wine from the bottle that was chilling in a cooler on the table. ‘Your mother liked shopping for clothes you deemed inappropriate, so your instant reaction was to dislike shopping and to dress in clothes your mother probably wouldn’t be seen dead in.’

Kate gulped down some wine and glared at him. ‘I’m getting paid to work while we’re over here,’ she pointed out.

He smiled at her. ‘And I’m telling you that you’re off the hook tomorrow. If you don’t tell, then I won’t.’

‘You like shopping? With a woman?’

‘In answer to question number one—can’t stand it. I have someone who knows the sort of clothes I wear. I leave it to her to stock my wardrobe.’

‘Who? Who does that?’

‘Let’s just say that a long time ago I went out with a woman who got a little more involved than she should have...’

‘You mean she wanted more than just a one-night stand?’

Kate couldn’t believe she had actually said that to Alessandro, but this whole expedition was beginning to take on a slightly surreal air—and, frankly, if he wanted to command her to relax, then he would just have to take the consequences. The thrill of being daring and reckless, of releasing some of her tightly wound strings, soared through her veins, making her giddy.

‘I don’t do one-night stands,’ Alessandro informed her.

Kate laughed aloud.

‘Where’s the joke in that? I’m missing it.’

‘I thought...I thought you were a guy who didn’t do long-term relationships?’

‘The opposite of long-term isn’t one-night stand. There’s a very happy middle ground—trust me. Now, drink up and let’s go out. I’ve asked the concierge for a couple of recommendations and he’s booked a restaurant for us within walking distance.’ He eyed her shoes. ‘Are you going to be mobile in those?’

Kate stuck out her foot and inspected it, turning it round in a circle. The shoes were wonderful. The first pair of high, strappy sandals she had ever owned.

‘Yes, you have a lovely foot,’ Alessandro told her. ‘Nice toes. Very good ankle. Would you like to twirl the other one for my inspection?’

‘I wasn’t fishing for compliments.’

‘Of course you were. Woman’s prerogative.’

‘They’re a little tricky to walk in...’

‘We’ll take it slowly—and if you feel yourself toppling over, don’t worry. I’ll catch you.’

Kate’s head filled with that thought. It was as if someone had switched on a lightbulb, illuminating dark corners and lots of murky thoughts she had been shying away from.

Alessandro Preda might represent everything she disdained, but he was sexy and he was charming—was it any wonder that she was attracted to him? Against all odds? For so many reasons it was all wrong. She worked for him. He was a player. He was way too good-looking, too rich and too self-assured for his own good. And, yes, she was inexperienced.

All those things combined into a heady mix—which was why, as they left the bar, she could feel a powerful thread of excitement racing through her veins, so that she was hyper-aware of him next to her, practically brushing her arm with his.

The restaurant was much further from the hotel than she had thought, and she could feel the steady burn of developing blisters as they navigated the crowds, but there was no way she was going to mention that to him. Besides, what could he do?

She sighed with relief as they entered the blessed cool of a fish restaurant and discreetly kicked off the sandals underneath the table as they sat down.

The backs of her feet stung and her toes were throbbing. Thank God he had begun to talk to her about the electronics company he wanted to take over, because she could plaster an interested look on her face and focus on that instead of trying to subdue the pain.

‘And so,’ Alessandro concluded, ‘the entire company was sucked into a black hole, to disappear into the ether...’

‘Absolutely!’ Kate chirped, tentatively feeling one blister with her toe and trying hard not to wince. ‘It’s such a good idea and I’m sure it’ll all work out. I’ll make sure to look up the company and do some research...er...later tonight...’

‘I’ve never been able to resist a woman who hangs onto my every word,’ he drawled. ‘Have you heard a word I’ve been saying for the last ten minutes?’

‘You were talking about the electronics company...’

‘Care to recap? Ah. Thought not. Tell me I’m not such a bore that you lost interest in my conversation after five seconds...?’

‘I’m sorry. I was miles away.’

‘Anywhere in particular?’

Yes, in a world of pain and agony where my only mission was to get hold of some blister plasters and paracetamol.

‘Nope. Just...just thinking about being here in North America... You know, I’ve done next to no travelling? I guess I was just overwhelmed by all the sights and sounds. I got lost filtering them all in my...’

Wine had been brought to them. When had that happened? She gulped down most of her glass in the hope of discovering some restorative or anaesthetic qualities to help her get through the evening without making a complete fool of herself.

‘You must have been abroad, though, at some point in your life...?’

‘Ibiza.’ She rolled her eyes and grimaced. ‘I took my mum.’

‘And?’

‘And it was...fun—although Mum did spend quite a bit of time flirting with the waiters.’ Kate laughed. ‘But, thinking about it, it really was fun. She made me put away every single textbook I had taken with me—I had been studying for exams—and she forced me to repeat that I was there to relax whenever I mentioned tax laws, or corporate finance laws, or profit and loss columns or dividends. She also made me wear my swimsuit without a great big tee shirt over it—even though I told her all about the dangers of too much sun and overexposure.’ She sighed and looked at him. ‘You must think me the last word in dull...’

‘Not dull, no. Just a little...cautious...’

‘And I guess you’ve never been cautious?’

‘None of us is exempt from being careful when it comes to certain situations,’ Alessandro murmured. ‘Now, choose whatever you want from the menu—and don’t be afraid to eat to your heart’s content. The concierge tells me that the chocolate brownie pudding on the menu is famous...’

Lots of very good food, far too much very good wine and Alessandro Preda as a dinner companion—it all went a long way to numbing the pain in her feet, and she only woke up to the reality that her blisters were still there, alive and kicking, as she wriggled her feet into the sandals at the end of the meal.

The walk was less than half an hour, the air was still warm and they weren’t jogging at speed—but every step was agony and it was only when the hotel was in sight that she heard herself give a soft moan, partly out of relief that her ordeal would soon be over, partly because she just couldn’t help herself.

‘What?’ she asked brightly when he stopped and looked at her narrowly.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing. Just taking it easy...enjoying the buzz... It’s very different from London, isn’t it? Not as hectic.’

Alessandro cocked his head to one side, then took his time looking at her, those clever dark eyes travelling the length of her body until they rested on her feet.

‘Hell!’ He stooped to examine her feet and she uttered a little shriek of mortification.

‘Get up!’ she whispered. ‘Please, Alessandro! People are looking at us! They’re going to think...to think that you’re proposing or something!’

‘To your feet?’ He glanced up at her and she kept her face firmly averted. ‘How long have you been in pain?’

‘I’m not in pain. My feet might be a bit sore because I’m not used to wearing heels. Or sandals...’

‘Good God, woman.’

He vaulted upright and then scooped her up in one fluid, easy movement. She squealed and clutched him, shocked rigid as he began striding towards the hotel while people turned to stare and laugh.

‘Put me down!’ she wailed. ‘Everyone’s staring!’

‘You worry too much about what other people think. And I’m not putting you down. I’m only just about hanging on to my temper. Why the hell didn’t you say something earlier?’

‘They were fine at the restaurant!’

It was hard to talk whilst trying to wriggle into some sort of position that wasn’t utterly humiliating. Was her underwear on display for everyone to have a look at? She wriggled frantically, ignoring his commands to keep still, hating him at that moment in time even if he had rescued her from having to hobble for the rest of the way.

‘Please put me down when we get into the hotel. I can manage from there.’

He ignored her and headed straight for the reception desk. In her head she could picture the curved marble counter, manned by banks of cruel, sniggering young girls, as she heard him ask for a comprehensive first-aid kit to be sent to his suite immediately. No, a doctor wouldn’t be required—just get the kit up to his quarters double quick.

She gave up protesting and clung to him, arms around his neck, fingers clasped, eyes squeezed tightly shut—because that way she could kid herself that none of this was happening.

She only opened her eyes when she was gently lowered onto his bed, and then she watched as he even more gently removed the offending sandals and cursed softly under his breath.

‘You’ve probably done your back in,’ was all she could find to say.

‘My back is fine—which is more than I can say for your feet. They’re raw.’

‘I’m not used to wearing heels. Or shoes like this.’

Embarrassment washed over her as he rested her aching, swollen feet on his lap and reached for the first-aid kit, which had already been placed on the bed.

‘You’re right. I should have mentioned earlier that I was developing one or two blisters... But, please, I can take care of this myself.’ It was a last desperate plea that she thought he might ignore—and he did.

His hands were so soothing... Kate closed her eyes and her breathing slowed as he dealt with her blisters, gently cleaning them, putting cool cream on them, and then the special plasters from the kit. Maybe blisters were a common occurrence here? she thought drowsily. Maybe every silly tourist took to the streets in inadequate footwear and returned to the hotel in need of a first-aid kit?

‘I had no idea that you were a doctor along with everything else,’ she murmured, joking because the silence was so intense and somehow so intimate.

‘I had planned on doing medicine, as a matter of fact...’