Читать книгу Unwordly Secretary, Gorgeous Boss - Lee Wilkinson, Jennie Adams - Страница 14

‘WE SHOULD go to Roma.’ ‘Rome?’

‘Si—I have an apartment there. We can have a short holiday and take the opportunity to spend some time alone together. I will show you all the places and sights that the tourists like to see, and some of the not so famous ones that only the locals know about … Sound good?’

‘It sounds wonderful … But, Fabian?’

‘You have reservations about this idea?’

He said all this as he was dressing, and as Laura watched him button up his immaculate white shirt over that heavenly chest, with its slick, solid musculature, she felt as if she was suspended in some euphoric dream she never wanted to wake up from.

The past two weeks had been a whirl of organisation and activity, with an emotional trip back to England for Laura to spend time with her parents before returning to Tuscany and an impatient Fabian back at the Villa de Rosa. Her family had been dumbstruck she’d made such a shock decision to remarry—and to a man she ‘barely knew’. She’d just about convinced them she really did know what she was doing, and had not finally succumbed to a breakdown after all that had happened.

The civil ceremony for Laura and Fabian’s marriage had taken place just yesterday. Their two witnesses had been a supportive and excited Carmela, back from honeymoon—she believed Laura and her enigmatic boss to be genuinely in love—and Maria. The charming Cybele had been a flower girl, and afterwards just a few select friends of Fabian’s had been invited to a discreetly located restaurant for the wedding supper.

But the future she faced was no romantic walk into the sunset with the man she adored. Despite his amorous attentions and apparent concern for her welfare, Fabian had not married Laura because he loved her. He had married her because he desperately wanted an heir and she was the most suitable candidate.

Now, with just a sheet to cover her, she sat on the edge of the fabulous bed in their room and tried hard to put her thoughts in order. Events had run away with her, and it was time to take a good look at exactly what she’d done. From now on she was no longer ‘anonymous’ Laura Greenwood, but Signora Moritzzoni of the fabulous Villa de Rosa. Her husband was a wealthy and influential man who commanded respect in this part of the world where he came from—where a family’s name and lineage was everything. Laura would bear his children, and to all intents and purposes be his partner, but she could not expect ever to receive his love or devotion in return.

Her stomach plunged at the thought. Her feelings for him made the whole idea of this marriage of convenience a farce. How long could she keep up the charade of containing them when that was clearly not what Fabian wanted or expected? After the experience she’d literally only just survived with Mark, why had she been so utterly reckless as to dance so close to the volcano’s edge again? The answer was that she’d married Fabian because after the trauma of the past few years she still dared to dream that a bright future might be hers. He wasn’t anything like Mark … She knew that. There was something special about him that was nothing to do with wealth, status, talent or even the extraordinary beauty he possessed that would stop any woman in her tracks.

And, although it grieved Laura that he had referred to the proposed trip to Rome as a ‘short holiday’, and not the romantic honeymoon she secretly longed for it to be, she was determined to take each day at a time and cherish that dream of hers no matter what.

‘I don’t have any reservations. It’s just that after last night—’

‘Last night was beautiful.’

With a grin that was part cat-that-got-the-cream and part unashamed seducer, Fabian was suddenly in front of her, urging her to her feet. He teasingly kissed the tip of her nose, his hypnotic azure gaze and clean masculine smell sending shivers of appreciation and want cascading through Laura’s body all over again.

‘We didn’t get much sleep—I know that!’ Trying to delicately extricate herself, when his hands were busy impelling her hips towards his, she grabbed hold of the sheet and held it fast, so that there was no danger of it slipping down.

‘It was our wedding night … did you really expect to sleep?’ he mocked gently.

‘Perhaps not … but right now I need some time to relax and get my head together. I feel almost dizzy with all that’s happened!’

‘Well, Signora Moritzzoni … we will breakfast on the terrace by the orangerie, and you can take all the time you want to think about events. Yesterday went well, no?’

‘Yes … it went very well.’

‘And there is nothing worrying you?’

‘Only that you don’t regret what we’ve done? Getting married, I mean? What if you meet somebody you really fall in love with, Fabian? Have you thought of that? You might grow to resent tying yourself to me then!’

‘You are such a foolish little romantic, my sweet Laura!’

Even though his words pierced her heart, Fabian’s glance was unmistakably tender in that indelible moment when he cupped her face between his hands and gazed into her eyes.

‘There is no possibility of any such thing happening to me. I know exactly what I am doing, and why, and I do not regret a thing! I told you before that emotions are not to be trusted, and I stand by that statement. In time I do not doubt that you and I will become good friends … we are already lovers … and when we have our children we will have a marriage based on a solid foundation of friendship and respect—not something built on a precarious little love affair that fizzled out after just a few weeks or months!’

Laura was silent, even though his disbelief in love stung worse than the sharpened points of a thousand swords digging into her flesh. Was he destined to be cynical about love for the rest of his life because of his ex-wife’s behaviour? She wanted to ask him more about his past and her, but she sensed it was a topic he wouldn’t readily discuss. She had brought shame on him, he had told her, and now there was a wall in him because of it … a wall that sooner or later she would have to crack if their future lives together had any chance of success at all. She made herself change the subject. ‘By the way … regarding my return to work. I want to look for a post teaching music to children fairly soon. I’ve been away from it too long since the accident and I need to get back to doing what I love. You said you would respect my wishes about this.’

‘Of course.’ Moving even closer, Fabian lifted a few strands of her wheat-gold hair and just stared at them as if contemplating something profound. But then his gaze sank back into hers once again and made Laura’s breath catch. ‘It will not be a problem. You have my promise that you may work up until such time as you are pregnant with my child. But after that … the situation will have to be reviewed. Agreed?’

At the idea of falling pregnant with her husband’s child, Laura’s stomach fluttered half with joy and half with fear. Having Fabian’s baby would bind her to him with love even more … how could it not? One day he would realise that she loved him and what then? Her mouth was suddenly so dry that she could barely speak her answer. ‘Agreed.’

‘And the perfect teaching post for you will not be hard to find. I have a lot of contacts in both the arts and in other areas of education and you will soon be doing the work you love again.’

‘That would please me but …’ Hectic colour swam into Laura’s cheeks at the almost ‘predatory’ way Fabian was suddenly regarding her and she deliberately pulled her glance from his, determined to finish what she was saying. ‘I don’t want any special favours. I’d like to win the right position on my own merit. Not because you used your influence in any way! Now I need to shower and dress. I’ve lingered here too long and I—Stop looking at me like that!’

‘You seriously expect me not to be aroused when I know you are naked under that sheet? If so … you attribute to me powers of self-control I do not possess where you are concerned! After the intensity of pleasure last night, my body cannot help craving yours again! I mean it as a compliment. You are a very desirable woman with all the womanly attributes a man could want … and try as I might, I cannot resist the hot demand that burns in my blood for you!’

Before Laura could gather her wits, his lips seared hers in a kiss that completely obliterated the flimsy vestiges of her resistance as though it was nothing at all and she found herself clinging to him with an un-contained moan of longing and delight as he stripped away the sheet she wore and let it drift to the floor in a soft burgundy pool at her feet.…

Rome—noisy, beautiful, vibrant—descriptions were legendary and myriad and it was one of Fabian’s favourite cities in the world. He had an apartment in the Piazza Navona that overlooked the impressive fountain of Neptune. Fashionably decorated but with its fair share of faded grandeur in keeping with the building’s age—it was a place that had no associations with his father whatsoever. When Fabian had left Tuscany to go to university to study art—he had gone to Rome. His first taste of freedom—it had held an affectionate place in his heart ever since. Now he wanted to show what it had to offer to Laura—the woman who was now his wife. A memory came to him as they strolled together down the narrow bustling side streets that led away from the piazza—a memory of tears glistening in her beautiful eyes when they had been listening to that young tenor singing. He had reached for her hand to comfort her because he’d intuited that the sorrow in her was a deep, far-reaching river and the singer’s voice had merely been a catalyst to opening the floodgates of sadness that dwelled inside. He had not yet asked her properly about the accident or about the husband she had lost. Now that Laura was his wife Fabian felt even less inclined to visit both those subjects—yet he could not avoid doing so for ever. If he felt a little possessive and wanted to shut out the past for both of them so that it wouldn’t intrude on the pleasure of today—he told himself it was only natural. But he really did have a great desire to get to know her better and therefore, some time soon, he would have to find out the details about what happened to her. He fully intended to be the best husband he could be in this marriage. And if there were difficulties ahead, then he honestly believed they could be overcome because already they had a profoundly sensual connection that would go a long way towards healing any rifts.

‘It’s just as I imagined it would be.’

‘It is?’

Catching her hand and knowing a fierce pleasure in keeping it in his—Fabian smiled. In her white peasant-style cotton dress with its puffed sleeves and flared skirt, her blonde hair shining and her extraordinary eyes as excited as a child’s … she was definitely molto bello …

‘Bustling, busy and everywhere you look, something beautiful or fascinating to gaze at!’

‘I cannot argue with that!’ He was looking at his wife, with frank male appreciation, and she stared back at him with an expression that was both shy and surprised.

Then she smiled and hit him playfully on the arm. ‘You know what I mean!’

‘Yes, but we have barely even started our little tour of discovery yet! There are many amazing sights in Roma to see. First of all I want to take you to a coffee bar that does the best espresso in all of Italy! It is mostly only known to locals, but I think you will like it.’

‘Well, seeing as though I’ve become a huge fan of your beloved espresso in the weeks since I’ve been here, lead on!’

In the bustling aroma-filled coffee bar, with its array of monochrome photos of 1940s and ‘50s jazz musicians adorning the walls, functional unfussy wooden tables and sturdy chairs, Fabian chose seats by the window so that Laura could sit and ‘watch the world go by’, as she so charmingly put it.

She was like an excited child today, and her enthusiasm for being in his favourite city gave him a sense of satisfaction and pleasure that took him by surprise. He also had to keep curtailing a sudden great need to touch her and hold her, and the warmth that kept invading his insides whenever his gaze met hers he stubbornly put down to excitement and pleasure—not anything more meaningful. He had been down that road of self-deception before, with Domenica, and she had exposed him for the trusting, naïve, lovestruck idiot he had been—too blinded and besotted to know that his wife was fooling around behind his back.

Swallowing down the bitter memory, Fabian nodded towards the grey-paved square outside, complete with fountain and edged by yellowed crumbling buildings with dusty and in some cases ancient shop signs.

‘This place used to be a flower and fruit market, but now the sellers have dwindled to just two or three. It is now mainly used as a meeting place for locals.’

‘You sound like you know it well?’

‘I discovered it when I was a student here. My friends and I would often meet over an espresso here, or stand in the square and put the world to rights!’

‘And what did you study?’ She leant towards him a little across the table, her glance intensely interested.

Quirking a philosophical eyebrow, Fabian grinned. ‘What else does one study in Rome?’ he asked, teasing. ‘The history of art, of course!’

‘What an amazing resource you had for your re-search!’ Laura sighed. ‘It must have been wonderful!’

‘It was.’

‘And is this where you met your ex-wife, Fabian?

In Rome?’

His chest tightened uncomfortably. ‘No. I met Domenica in Tuscany. Her father was a friend of my father’s.’

‘Domenica? That’s a beautiful name.’

‘She was a beautiful girl … but unfortunately her heart was not so beautiful.’

‘Were you—?’

‘Let us talk about something else. I do not care to dwell on the past today … only on the future.’ His tone was firm.

‘And what about the present?’ Leaning back in the straight-backed chair, Laura was reflective. ‘Time goes by so quickly, and sometimes we don’t realise that moments are passing us by because we’re not paying attention.’

‘You have clearly spent a lot of time thinking about such things, I can tell.’

‘After the accident, when I was in hospital, I had nothing but time to reflect on what life was all about. And here in the west we take so much for granted. It seems to me there’s not much point in being given the gift of life if we never even pause to reflect on what is the meaning and purpose of it.’

‘Well … not everyone is as conscious or as appreciative of the gift we have been given as you, my sweet Laura. Most people behave as though they are going to be here for ever!’

‘Sometimes it takes something momentous like an accident or an illness to wake people up. Don’t you think it would be better if they woke up to their life before that point?’

‘I am beginning to think that I have married a budding psychotherapist!’

‘I’m sorry.’ A crimson tide swept into her cheeks. ‘I tend to get a little carried away when I’m talking about these things.’

‘Do not apologise. Passion and enthusiasm are not things to be ashamed of.’ Reaching for her hand, Fabian stroked his thumb back and forth over her flawless porcelain skin. ‘I like it that you feel things so strongly.’

‘Do you?’ Suddenly still, her steady thoughtful gaze dived deep into his. ‘I thought you believed that feelings aren’t to be trusted?’

An intensely awkward few seconds ensued as Fabian fought hard to keep his treacherous feelings under control. With a self-deprecating grimace, he lifted his coffee cup in the gesture of a toast. ‘You have backed me into a corner, I fear … touché.’

‘Well …’ Her hand shook a little as Laura swept her fingers through her hair, and he saw that she was embarrassed as well as a little upset.

He silently abhorred his inability to make the kind of real connection he secretly craved with her. Then, in the next second, he told himself he would get over it. His reactions were all at sea because for the first time in months he was starting to relax, as he was here in his favourite city with the pretty, vivacious woman who was going to give him the thing that he desired most … a family. He could surely be forgiven if he didn’t feel quite himself?

‘I can’t believe we flew here in a helicopter all the way from Tuscany!’ she finished.

‘I would never make half the meetings I have on time here in Italy without it,’ Fabian replied, grateful that the tricky moment had passed.

‘It’s such a different way of life you lead, compared to my own back in the UK.’

‘And do you think you will grow to like it?’

‘I hope so.’ Some of the light seemed to go out of her mercurial eyes, and the taut muscles around his stomach clenched hard in concern.

‘You seem doubtful?’

‘It’s going to take some adjusting to, that’s all. My feet feel as if they haven’t touched the ground for quite a while! And now that the dust has started to settle I find myself wondering what a man like you—a man who could probably have anything in the world that he desired—including his pick of beautiful women—sees in a woman like me?’

Her hand was touching her fringe again as she said this, and Fabian frowned. ‘If the scar bothers you so much, I could arrange for you to see a very good plastic surgeon. I do not like it that you feel it diminishes you somehow.’

‘I don’t.’ She flushed. ‘Not really. I’ve grown to accept my imperfections as time has gone on. In a way, having them has made me stronger … as well as less focused on the more superficial aspects of life. I’m just happy to still have my life after what happened. No … it was you I was thinking of, Fabian. You—with your beautiful house and beautiful things. You move in the kind of circles where these things matter. How will you cope with having a wife who hardly conforms to the standards of beauty your friends and peers might expect?’

‘First of all, it is a problem only in your mind, Laura … not mine! Do you think I care what anybody else thinks? After years spent living with my father I will not be dictated to on how to live my life by anyone! And beautiful things have their place, but I do not attribute such importance to them as you may think. So let us focus on the future we have resolved to make together, and not be so concerned with the opinions of others.’

‘All right. I’ll try.’

‘You have the strength to do anything you put your mind to. I have sensed this many times since I met you.’ ‘I suppose I’m a survivor … that’s why.’ ‘You are indeed a strong woman … I admire that.’ ‘It’s funny … but after Mark I—’ She cut the thought off abruptly, and even though he hated himself for it Fabian was glad.

Sitting in his favourite café on a glorious day with his pretty new wife, and contemplating an enjoyable afternoon’s sightseeing, he perhaps selfishly wanted to keep the mood as light as possible. And encouraging Laura to talk about her past would probably mean that she would then turn the tables on him. She had already tried by bringing up the subject of his ex-wife. Wanting to resist more pain, he stayed deliberately silent.

‘Fabian?’

‘What is it?’

‘Are you sure you don’t regret—?’

‘I am perfectly satisfied that I have done absolutely the right thing in marrying you, Laura. In time, you will also come to see that. Now, drink your coffee and do not spend another moment worrying. We only have a week here in Rome before we go home again, so let us just try and relax and enjoy our time together.’