Читать книгу Unwordly Secretary, Gorgeous Boss - Lee Wilkinson, Jennie Adams - Страница 9

LAURA didn’t understand everything the other woman said, but she’d been listening to language tapes and devouring phrase books ever since she’d agreed with Carmela that she would fly out to Tuscany and act as her stand-in. Consequently she was quite capable of getting the gist of what the opera star’s meaning was, even if the look of disdain in her eyes didn’t render the message loud and clear.

All of a sudden she fervently wished that the final course would arrive. Then she could make her excuses and get back to work. In fact, she wondered if their host would protest if she bypassed the dessert altogether and left now? As she found herself glancing towards Fabian, and the possessive diva by his side, his startling blue gaze met and claimed hers for a long, perturbing moment. Her stomach dived into empty space, as though she were plunging off the edge of the earth.

‘Is something the matter, Laura?’ he asked, completely confounding her by using her first name and not the more formal address she’d been becoming used to.

‘No … nothing’s the matter. I was just wondering if you would mind if I didn’t have dessert and went back to work instead? I’m anxious to keep on top of things and I—’

‘It is my express wish that you stay until the end of our lunch!’ Looking surprised, then furious, Fabian glowered formidably. ‘I am not accustomed to my guests suddenly getting up to leave in the middle of a meal! As important as your duties undoubtedly are, they will just have to wait.’

Feeling everyone else’s gaze on her now, as well as their host’s, Laura knew the heat in her face must cover every shade from puce to cerise in one fell swoop. All she had wanted to do was escape a situation where she was struggling to feel at ease, and she genuinely wanted to get on with the job she’d been hired for. But instead she’d unwittingly offended the very man she couldn’t afford to offend. His attention had returned to the dazzling creature by his side, but Fabian’s hard, slightly arrogant jaw clearly confirmed her conclusion. Feeling miserable now, as well as hot, Laura reached for her glass of water and took a long draught of the ice-cold liquid, hoping it would help cool her embarrassment as well as quench her thirst.

Laura had been wished an affectionate farewell by a flushed and happy Carmela, eager to be off on her honeymoon at last, and had spent the rest of the afternoon familiarising herself with her new duties. She’d rung several of the companies that were providing their services on the night of the concert to introduce herself, and sent out a last small batch of invitations to staff at a local hospital. Carmela had deliberately kept a few back for this express purpose.

In the middle of arranging for flowers to be delivered from Fabian to the formidable Aurelia Visconti, at the villa she was staying at until just after the concert, Laura glanced up in surprise as the man himself put his head round the door. Could it be that there was something going on between him and the beautiful opera star? She told herself it was only human to speculate after the way the older woman had so clearly staked her claim on him for most of their lunch—although Carmela had mentioned in passing that her boss was divorced and unattached.

‘How are you getting on with everything?’ he asked.

‘Fine so far.’

‘No problems?’

Breaking off her telephone conversation, with her concentrated gaze Laura conveyed the fact that he had her full attention.

‘Nothing I couldn’t handle.’

‘Good. I just came to tell you that I am going out for a while, and do not expect to be back until later this evening.’

‘Okay.’

‘And tomorrow you will be moving into my office with me.’

‘Oh … is that really necessary? I mean, I’ve just got used to where everything is, and won’t a move take up valuable time away from organising the concert?’

‘It will take up hardly any time at all. You will need me around to ask questions, and sometimes to talk to people and problem-solve. It will be easier for us both for purposes of work if we are in closer proximity. Was there anything you needed to ask me before I go?’

‘Not that I can think of right now.’

Feeling heat throb through her at the realisation that from tomorrow onwards she would be working in the same office as Fabian, Laura willed herself not to appear flustered by the news. The incident at lunch had made her even more wary of the man than she’d been initially, and she wished she could just erase it from her memory. Yet, perversely, she’d also experienced frustration at not having a chance to ask him more about the concert.

Their little exchange about life and planning had prompted her curiosity about how he personally viewed such things. Was the anniversary concert something that was set in stone as far as Fabian and his family were concerned? Did he ever find the responsibility of hosting such an event year in, year out, somewhat daunting—onerous, even?

Still she grappled with the idea of sharing an office with him …

‘Then have a good evening, and enjoy the dinner that Maria is preparing for you,’ he said now, the faintest suggestion of a smile touching his lips. ‘My housekeeper is an exceptional cook, and she makes the best lasagne in Italy! Ciao!’

‘Ciao …’

The next moment he was gone, leaving just a faint impression of sandalwood and spice hovering in the air, and the slam of another door outside somewhere indicated he was on his way out to his car. Was he visiting Aurelia at her villa, perhaps?

Impatient that such an irrelevant consideration should hijack her thoughts, Laura leant back in her chair behind a desk that screamed to be tidied and ran the flat of her palm over her hair. Shaking the soft fall of golden butter-coloured strands loose from its confining band, she sighed at the release of tension that flowed out of her neck and shoulders, as if a small trapped inlet that had been shut off by a boulder could now flow freely.

The delicious lasagne eaten, and most of the other staff and work teams who had inhabited the building and grounds all day now gone—along with the orchestra and the opera company—Laura found the huge gracious house had become blissfully quiet again. But, although relative silence prevailed, inside Laura’s head all she could hear were echoes of the amazing music that her ears had been treated to throughout the day. She realised that despite everything she was feeling happier than she’d been in ages. She’d made contact at last with a friend she’d very much missed, and had been given this marvellous opportunity to work in an environment that was about as idyllic as she could imagine. Surely it was a sign that life in general was improving vastly?

Humming to herself, she inserted the final invitation to an after-concert supper party into its gilt-edged envelope—this was an event that Fabian was throwing for some local dignitaries—and put it with the others, before tackling the chaos on her desk. That accomplished, she went to kneel on the floor to check through the two boxes of glassware that lay there unopened, wincing slightly as a familiar ache throbbed through her thigh. But the heady scent from the climbing wisteria outside the window, perfuming the tranquil night air, immediately distracted her, and the tune that Laura had been contentedly humming turned into a fully-fledged song.

As Fabian walked into the softly lit marble-floored hallway of the villa all the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. The voice he could hear singing was so delightful, so exquisitely pure, that he just stood where he was listening, hardly daring to even breathe. Who was this angel? He had never heard her sing before, of that he was certain. Such a voice one would not soon forget! Perhaps she was a younger, more recently recruited member of the company?

As the last notes of the song clung, quivering, to the hushed atmosphere of the night, Fabian let out his breath and moved his head in mute astonishment. He simply had to meet her!

Following the direction whence the voice had come, he walked down the wide, gleaming corridor of closed doors. Everything was absolutely still, with no indication of anyone else’s presence. Knocking at each door before he entered a particular room, he called out, ‘Ciao? C’e nessuno li?’ Is there anybody there? But every room he visited was empty of any other human being but him.

Had he imagined what he’d just heard? Ridiculous! Clearly one of the company was rehearsing somewhere in private and he had unwittingly disturbed them. He would make it his mission to find them, offer his sincere apologies then introduce himself.

A few minutes later Fabian went still as a statue as the exquisite voice he had heard sounded on the air again. He made his way to the office that Laura was now occupying instead of Carmela. There was a tension inside him that seemed to build with every step. Entering the room, he saw his temporary assistant with her back to him, straightening some files on a bookshelf. He saw she had dispensed with her shoes and her feet were bare, and her previously bound hair fell softly around her shoulders. But most of all he realised that the amazing voice that he was hearing belonged to her.

A sense of shock interwoven with pleasure electrified Fabian’s spine. He said nothing—he fully intended to let her finish the song before addressing her—but all of a sudden she stopped, turned round, and gazed at him with a slightly stunned expression.

‘Oh!’

‘Your voice is exquisite … I had no idea.’

‘I hope I didn’t disturb you? I was just enjoying being here in your beautiful house, and I let my happiness and pleasure spill over. I always sing when I’m happy.’

‘Do not apologise. That is a remarkable talent you have, Laura. Carmela never mentioned that you could sing.’

‘I last saw her about ten years ago. Although we kept in touch we never really talked about things like that. Besides … it’s just something I do to amuse myself these days. Nothing more.’

Her hand slid over her cheekbone and he glimpsed a silver earring with a small pale blue stone shimmering on her lobe as she tucked her hair behind her ear. Fabian could hardly believe she was so dismissive of a talent that other people would trade their life savings for.

‘Why is that?’ he asked immediately. ‘With the right people to guide you, you could have an impressive career. I have been around singers, musicians, artists all my life … I do not say this lightly.’

‘But I don’t want an impressive career! What I want is to be able to teach music to children, like I was doing before. I would do it for nothing if I could afford to!’

Stunned by such an unexpected and passionate response, Fabian lifted his brows in surprise. It was no exaggeration to say that people these days seemed to idolise fame and fortune, and yet this slender reed of a girl—although she clearly had talent in abundance—appeared to scorn it in preference to teaching children! He hadn’t felt so taken aback or intrigued by someone in a very long time. Certainly his ex-wife would never have displayed such altruism or heartfelt generosity. Just the opposite, in fact!

But Fabian didn’t want to think about the avaricious and deceitful Domenica. Right now it was this woman who had all his attention.

‘If you would do what you love to do for nothing that is an admirable quality indeed … if a little naïve. You do realise you could very quickly become quite wealthy with a voice like yours, Laura? You would never have to worry about money again.’

‘I told you.’ Moving across the room, she bent down to collect her discarded sandals, and after sliding her small elegant feet inside the soft brown leather she straightened and rested her gaze directly on Fabian. ‘I’m not interested in a career as a singer. I had that dream a long time ago, when I was young, but I’ve since found something I feel far more passionate about. It may never make me rich, but then wealth doesn’t have the fascination for me that it does for some people. Not everyone is so enthralled by the idea of it!’ She bit her lip in sudden anxiety. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any offence.’ ‘None taken.’

‘My needs are simple … that’s all I meant. I think I’ll say goodnight now, if you don’t mind? I want to make an earlier start tomorrow.’

‘You have already worked a long day. There is no need to make an earlier start than normal.’

‘If you say so.’

‘What about the man in your life? Surely he would want you to make the most of your exceptional talents?’

Fabian was fishing unashamedly, and for a moment Laura appeared dazed by his question.

‘I’m a single woman. There is no man in my life apart from my father.’

‘Even so … surely he must—?’

‘He only wants whatever makes me happy.’

Her small chin came up, and her pale eyes signalled such defiance that Fabian glimpsed unexpected steel in her character that warned him this was as far as he should go right now.

Unable to think of any other reason to keep her there right then, he slid his hand into his trouser pocket and briefly inclined his head. ‘Then I will see you in the morning, Laura. Sleep well.’ ‘And you.’

Her moonlit gaze withdrew, and she slipped past him like the brush of silk against bare skin—the air she left behind intoxicatingly and beguilingly scented with a perfume that was both sultry and innocent at the same time. For a long time after Fabian’s feet claimed the same spot on the carpet, as though welded there …

‘The lanterns need to be arranged in the trees on either side of the road, so that the drive is clearly lit when people arrive.’

In the middle of explaining some of the external decorating requirements in an earnest blend of English and Italian to the two cheerful and willing workmen standing in the office with her, Laura gave only a perfunctory glance at her boss as he came in through the door, bringing his cup of coffee with him. From today, she was in his domain, and she had never before set foot in such a plush, richly decorated office.

It was nearly twice the size of Carmela’s and—along with the crystal chandelier that hung suspended from the cathedral-like ceiling—it was full of the most exquisite art and objets d’art. Earlier, the same workmen who were with her now had moved her desk and computer to the opposite side of the palatial room from Fabian, and another young man had appeared to connect everything up again. Sunlight streamed in through the enormous windows as though it were worshipping at a shrine.

She couldn’t deny her stomach had flooded with butterflies at the idea that they would be working together so closely. And she couldn’t help but recall what had happened last night when Fabian had discovered her singing. She’d been taken aback by the compliments he had paid her on her voice, and the suggestion that she could have a lucrative career out of it, but it had done nothing to change Laura’s mind about the career she desperately wanted to resume … that of working with children. Her singing had been a spontaneous, unplanned event, brought about by a contentment she had not experienced in a long time, and she had not sought or expected an audience, much less acknowledgement!

‘Buongiorno!’

He included everyone in the convivial greeting as he went to his desk and set down his coffee cup, nonetheless Fabian’s glance came to rest specifically on Laura. It was a feat quite beyond her to glance away from the ocean of achingly vivid blue that blazed back at her.

‘You slept well?’ he asked her.

‘Fine, thank you … You?’

‘Like a bambino!’

His lips broke into the most boyish and captivating grin Laura had ever seen. The sun pouring in through the huge windows behind him illuminated him in a dazzling aura of gold. She knew she was staring, but she would defy anyone—man, woman or child—not to do the same.

‘Really?’ she murmured.

‘Last night I heard an angel singing.’ The expression on Fabian’s face was deliberately provocative, and it made Laura’s skin heat and her heart race. It seemed to suggest that they shared a secret … a secret that placed her in his power somehow. ‘Yes … I went to sleep with the sound of her exquisite voice lingering tantalisingly in my ears … bella!’He kissed his fingers in an extravagant gesture and his smile grew even wider.

The two workmen grinned hugely at this, nodding in vicarious appreciation. Meanwhile, Laura’s whole body was trembling so hard she felt sure everyone must see it.

‘Yesterday the house was full of so much beautiful music.’ Forcing herself to smile nonchalantly, she returned her attention to the waiting workmen, because it was far safer than allowing herself to be caught up in the dangerous spell that Fabian seemed to cast so easily. Striving to maintain an even, slightly authoritative tone in her voice, she crossed her arms in front of her chest. ‘Now, you know what’s to be done? The lanterns are all ready and waiting in the storeroom. They arrived yesterday, and I’ve checked that we received the right number. When the job is completed I’ll come and have a look. Grazie.’ ‘Si, signorina.’

The room fell silent again after the workmen’s departure, and Fabian dropped thoughtfully down into his seat. Running his critical gaze over his assistant’s porcelain skin and willowy form, he noted that she was looking almost as pale as the marble of one of Michelangelo’s sculptures this morning. Had his teasing upset her? Hearing her sing was the first thing he had thought about that morning on waking, and he had been thinking about it ever since.

‘Why didn’t you join me for breakfast?’ he asked.

‘Maria very kindly brought some coffee and fruit to my room.’

‘Coffee and fruit? Are you trying to starve yourself? No wonder you are so slender!’

‘I assure you there is nothing wrong with my appetite, Signor Moritzzoni! I enjoy my food just like anyone else! This just happens to be my natural build.’

‘No doubt many women would envy you.’

Even as he made the comment, Fabian knew his own preference usually ran to the more voluptuous feminine form. Yet he could not deny that Laura’s small frame was perfect for her fine, delicate bone structure.

‘I doubt it. I am well aware of how I look, and there is hardly anything to envy.’

Surprised by her self-deprecating reply, Fabian did not believe she’d said it to elicit his protest to the contrary. Yet he could not help but find it a puzzle that she seemed not to realise her own attraction. After all … a scar was just a scar. To him it hardly signified at all, yet he understood that for a woman it might not prove so easy to bear in the looks-obsessed culture that they lived in. About to turn away from her, he saw that she now had two spots of colour in her otherwise still pale cheeks.

‘Anyway … I promise I will make up for my small breakfast by eating a good lunch, so you need not worry that I might faint from hunger at your feet, Signor Moritzzoni!’

‘That would definitely not be good for my reputation, Laura,’ he answered dryly. ‘And, please … it is about time you started to call me Fabian. Formality only gets in the way when we are working so closely together.’

‘If that’s what you prefer. Now, there are a couple of things I need to ask you concerning the supper party after the concert.’ Turning back to her desk, she picked up a sheaf of paper and a pen.

There was something quite irresistible about the expression she got on her face whenever she was concentrating, Fabian realised. It had the strange effect of making all his muscles tighten with what he had to acknowledge was most assuredly sensual pleasure. He clenched his jaw a little as she approached. Her captivating summery scent reached him first, and he was genuinely perturbed that his reaction to her was so acute. It was an unexpected discovery that could no doubt lead to some unnecessary complications if not handled correctly.

‘What is it you want to know?’ he asked, frowning.

‘It’s about the protocol for the evening.’

To his further discomfiture, she came round to stand by his side, then crouched down low, so that he could clearly see the list of invitees with their various titles and designations. But all Fabian could really focus on right then was how her hair seemed to be woven through with dancing sunlight, and how with her small straight nose and delicate jaw her profile was like the most exquisite cameo …

‘Si.’ Taking the list out of Laura’s hands, Fabian heard the dismissive tone in his voice. ‘I will make some notes in English at the side of each name for you. In the meantime I have some important phone calls to make. This afternoon after lunch we will go through the entire plan and programme together, and find out exactly the state of play.’

‘That would be good. Thank you.’

He had said to Carmela that he hoped his new assistant would not expect him to hold her hand or guide her step by step, yet here he was—her desk conveyed to his office and a strangely inexplicable impulse in him not to leave her to cope on her own …

Moving away from him, she suddenly paused. ‘Your father must have loved music very much … and this is such an exquisite setting for such an event. Was it your idea to hold a concert in his memory each year?’

Stunned by the question, Fabian stared hard at Laura. A muscle throbbed in his cheek and for a long moment he struggled to stem the swift tide of resentment that flowed through his bloodstream. ‘Music meant a lot to him, yes. He considered himself an avid aficionado of the opera. He considered himself an expert in many things as a matter of fact! But holding the concert was not my idea. Far from it! My father left instructions in his will. Even in death, Roberto Moritzzoni wanted to ensure that he was not forgotten. He did not easily let go of his possessions or his life.’

‘I see.’

‘I doubt that you do, Laura. But perhaps one day before you leave the Villa De Rosa … I will explain.’

Moving his coffee cup out of the way, Fabian concentrated his focus on the list of dignitaries in front of him. They were all—with the exception of some of the key performers in the concert—ex cohorts of his father’s who still ‘milked’ their association with Roberto Moritzzoni for all it was worth. As if they had not dined in the style of kings enough throughout the years at the expense of Fabian’s family! At that moment he honestly felt like putting a lighted match to that damned list and having done with it. Glancing up, he saw that Laura had quietly made her way back to her desk, her attention captured by whatever was on the computer screen in front of her. What would Roberto have said if Fabian had introduced someone like her to him as his wife-to-be? He could hear the old man’s mocking laughter even now, after all these years, at the thought that he would even entertain such an absurdity! Everything about her would have been wrong, he realised—starting with the fact that she was not Italian. Add to that the probability that she had no important or useful family connections—that would be two more strikes against her suitability. As for her looks and figure—Roberto would no doubt have disparagingly dismissed her as too pale, too thin, and not maternal or voluptuous enough to be the bearer of his grandchildren …

‘Bigoted old fool!’ he muttered savagely beneath his breath.

‘Is something the matter?’ At the other side of the sun-filled room, Laura studied him in surprise. ‘You seem upset,’ she pressed, when he did not immediately reply.

‘You are right. I am upset. Thinking about my father usually ensures that reaction. He was not the most—shall we say … pleasant of men, Laura. He could be quite cruel in fact … especially to those that were closest to him. Does that shock you?’

Her sweetly shaped mouth turned down a little and her big eyes looked concerned. ‘Cruelty always shocks me … even though I know it is hardly rare in the world.’

Fabian grimaced. ‘Then let us change the subject and think about something more pleasant. If you want to restore my good mood, perhaps you would be kind enough to go and get me some more coffee?’

‘Of course. I’ll go and find Maria and get you some.’

She was on her feet immediately, her shy gaze touching him briefly as she left the room, and as Fabian watched her go he was filled with a longing that he didn’t dare examine too closely. The kind of longing that could definitely play havoc with their fledgling boss/secretary relationship.