A Pawn in the Playboy's Game

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A Pawn in the Playboy's Game Page 8

by Cathy Williams


  ‘Don’t blame me!’ Laura laughed and linked her arm through his. ‘Blame your son!’

  ‘Hope...’ Roberto turned to look at Alessandro through narrowed eyes ‘...I won’t have to.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  HE WOULD LEAVE for the week and return on the weekend. It made sense.

  ‘Bloody waste of your time,’ Roberto grumbled. ‘Don’t see the point of it myself.’

  ‘What’s my choice?’ Alessandro shrugged nonchalantly. ‘Edith has returned the dinner invitation for next Saturday. What’s a polite guy like me supposed to do? She looks like she might attack me with a rolling pin if I bail.’

  ‘She’s spirited, that one,’ Roberto agreed.

  ‘And we’re getting nowhere with the decision about London.’ He had now spent more time solidly in the company of his father than he ever had in his life before, and counting. At the rate he was going, he may as well import his PA and set up camp for the long haul.

  Time and big business waited for no man.

  Strangely, though, he was missing the cut and thrust of city life less than he had anticipated. Despite living in the middle of nowhere, the broadband connection was fast and for the past week he had established a routine that worked.

  ‘London Schmondon,’ his father contributed unhelpfully. ‘More to life than pollution and smog.’

  Stalemate.

  But Alessandro was happy to take time out with this particular stalemate situation.

  Indeed, as he returned to Scotland the following Thursday, a couple of days earlier than anticipated, he was in high spirits. He could have travelled by helicopter but had instead chosen a first-class compartment on the train and had managed to get a considerable amount of work done. Few people kicked off before eight-thirty in the morning, by which time he was on his way, and by ten, when his phone began buzzing, he had already signed off two deals and had had his conference call to his people on the other side of the world.

  By mid-afternoon he was at the closest station to the town and on the spur of the moment he set the satnav in the SUV he had conveniently left in the station car park to direct him to the school where Laura worked.

  She would be finishing around now. She always stayed after close of day to mark books and get the classroom ready for the following morning.

  Over dinner with her grandmother and his father he had told her that it sounded like a terminally tedious routine and then had enjoyed the way her cheeks had gone pink and her eyes had flashed. Even her hair had looked annoyed. She spent a lot of her time being annoyed with him, but underneath the annoyance ran a river of desire as strong as an ocean undercurrent. He’d never spent so much time dwelling on one woman, never mind a woman he hadn’t taken to his bed. She was becoming a delicious obsession and he couldn’t wait for the day when she came to him, when her defences had finally been broken down.

  The school was perched at the edge of the village. Stepping out of the taxi, he spotted her car neatly parked in one of the spots for staff. It was just mid-afternoon, but the light was already fading fast and the playground, which was in front of the brick building, was empty of children.

  This was the smallest school he had ever seen in his life and there was no way in unless you buzzed and announced yourself. So he buzzed and was let in by a middle-aged woman with rimless specs and a tightly pursed mouth after he explained that he was there to see Laura Reid.

  ‘We all know who you are.’ The woman’s expression fell into a smile. Her pursed lips were obviously there to tackle any unwanted visitors to the school. ‘Roberto’s son. Maud at the post office bumped into the lady who does for Edith and she told us that you were here. You must be worried sick over the little turn your father had but he’ll be right as rain in no time at all! Similar thing happened to my sister, bless her soul. Had a little stroke and then fell and broke her leg. She was off work for six months! And she bounced right back after that, so don’t you go worrying unduly over your father. He’s a robust one!’

  All the time they were walking through a maze of corridors with classrooms on either side. It was bigger inside than it appeared from the outside. The walls were decorated with bright paintings and there was a low bookcase that ran the length of the corridor, stuffed with books.

  He saw her before she noticed he was there. Straight from London and the wine bar, city crowds, he was knocked back at just how artless she was, sitting at her desk with a pile of exercise books on one side, frowning as she leaned over, marking. Her hair was escaping its ponytail, tendrils curling along her cheek, and she was absently chewing the top of her pencil.

  ‘Thanks, I’ll take it from here.’ He smiled politely at the older woman who had shown him to the classroom and extracted his mobile from his pocket.

  He stood to one side, slanting a glance through the small rectangular glass pane on the door so that he could just about see her, see her as she fumbled in her bag for her phone and then picked it up on the fourth ring.

  ‘Just want to say,’ he drawled, ‘that chewing pencils can be dangerous for your health...’ He saw the way her face lit up, just for that split second when she recognised who was on the other end of the line, and he knew... She could push him away with one hand but she was beckoning him to come closer with the other. He felt the powerful kick of victory and it was an intensely satisfying sensation.

  He pushed open the classroom door and she half stood, mobile phone still in her hand as she pressed the disconnect button. ‘What are you doing here?’

  That little frisson she had felt when she had heard his voice was gone. He could see from the tight expression on her face that she was going to do her best to just block him out because as long as she blocked him out she wouldn’t have to deal with the sizzling chemistry between them.

  And the harder she tried to block him out, the more he wanted to have her.

  His eyes travelled the length of her, from tousled hair to fur-booted feet and then back up, noting the faded jeans and the bright red jumper.

  ‘Thought I’d come a little earlier. So...this is where you work?’ He looked around him and then strolled towards the pictures and essays that were tacked to the walls.

  ‘Yes, it is,’ Laura said tersely. She wanted to fling herself in front of the drawings he was inspecting with overdone interest because having him here, in the classroom, felt way too intimate. Or maybe it felt intimate because she’d been thinking about him. Correcting an essay while her mind had played and replayed that kiss. Even when he wasn’t physically present, he could still manage to get under her skin and rattle her and she didn’t like it.

  ‘Nice. Homely.’ He swung round to look at her. She was so determined to resist him. He felt that she would run for the hills if she only knew how much he relished the prospect of proving her wrong. As if either of them could resist what was between them.

  ‘Why did you decide to come up here early?’

  ‘A few things I wanted to run past you so I thought I’d see if you were still here. And you are. Why don’t you stop...marking those books and have a coffee with me? There must be somewhere here we can go...is there?’

  ‘I still have work to do.’

  ‘Bring it with you. I can help you mark and then when we’ve finished we can have something to eat and I can talk to you about one or two things that have been on my mind.’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ she said, flustered. She smiled weakly past him at Evelyn, the deputy head, who was peering through the open doorway with lively curiosity. ‘Just...er...’

  ‘Yes, we met! Showed him in!’

  Alessandro smiled at the woman who had ushered him to Laura’s classroom and Evelyn blushed like a teenager.

  ‘Perhaps,’ he drawled, ‘you could convince this stubborn little minx that she can leave with me so that I can take her out for a coffee...or something str
onger...’

  Laura didn’t pay any attention to their bantering conversation but as soon as she and Alessandro were on their own, heading out to his car, she turned on him furiously.

  ‘Thanks very much, Alessandro!’

  ‘You’re welcome. Next time you need rescuing from the monotony of marking books, feel free to call on me.’

  ‘That’s not what I was talking about!’

  ‘No? Then you need to be a little clearer. I can’t really follow you just going from your heated expression. Where’s the quaint coffee shop? Or pub? I seem to remember that the town down the road is a little more vibrant when it comes to places to sit and pass the time of day.’ He started the engine and began pulling out of the car park.

  Was it his imagination or was the formidable middle-aged woman who had shown him in hovering by one of the windows?

  ‘You don’t come up here often,’ Laura hissed, ‘so you probably don’t know just how fast the grapevine works!’

  ‘Don’t you get a little bored?’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Sitting in a classroom, marking exercise books in a village that has twenty residents.’

  ‘Are we back to your comments about it being a backwater? Because we just have to agree to disagree on that one.’

  ‘Do you find it constricting, living with your grandmother?’

  ‘Why would I?’

  ‘Because you’ve lived on your own in London, had all the freedom you wanted. It might have suited you while you felt that Edith needed your presence, but she seems in full working order now, from what I’ve seen.’

  ‘You didn’t barge into my classroom so that we can discuss whether I enjoy living here with my grandmother or not.’

  ‘So that’s a no...you don’t really enjoy it... What’s that pub like? Any good?’

  Laura glared at him. He was just so damned sure of himself! When she and her grandmother had joined him and Roberto for dinner, she had felt his dark, lazy eyes on her, as tangible as a caress, making her want to squirm, forcing her into awkward speech so that she stumbled over her words, blushing like a gawky teenager.

  Had either her grandmother or Roberto noticed? She didn’t know, and she had made sure to talk about him as little as she possibly could afterwards, even though her grandmother had asked leading, nosy questions.

  ‘It’s fine. Getting back to Evelyn—’

  ‘Evelyn? Who’s Evelyn?’

  ‘The deputy head.’

  ‘Never met the woman in my life before but, by all means, let’s get back to her.’ He pulled into a space, killed the engine and then relaxed back in the seat to look at her.

  ‘She showed you to my classroom.’

  ‘Ah. That lady... It took a while for her to crack a smile, but I sense an empathetic person. Remind me why we’re talking about her?’ The lights in the car park of the pub glinted off her vibrant hair, which was still in a ponytail. The expression on her heart-shaped face was cross and earnest. She had dragged a shapeless black coat over the red jumper outfit. It drowned her but that made no difference to her sex appeal. She still oozed it by the bucketload.

  ‘She’s going to wonder who you are.’

  ‘She knew who I was. Someone had told someone who had told someone else who worked for your grandmother. It seems that I’m a talking point without even knowing it!’

  Laura groaned. ‘Lord knows what she’s thinking.’

  ‘Who knows what anyone’s thinking?’ Alessandro mused softly. He abhorred gossip but he had to admit that he was getting a certain buzz from this situation. ‘Sometimes, though, it’s easier. For instance, you must know what I’m thinking and here’s what I think you’re thinking...’

  ‘I don’t want to hear.’ She looked at him and discovered that she couldn’t look away. As fast as his image had crept into her head, she had done her best to dispel it by thinking about Colin and reminding herself that there was no point to learning curves if you just went ahead and ignored them the second they got a little inconvenient.

  Colin had worked his charm on her, had used her own trusting nature against her, had played the part of the perfect boyfriend, and she had fallen for all of it, hook, line and sinker.

  There was no way that she was going to jump headlong into a similar situation! Alessandro might be more upfront and more straightforward...he might call it more honest, but they were essentially made of the same stuff.

  She had made a mental promise to herself that the next guy she got involved with would be a normal, considerate, one hundred per cent sincere and honest gentleman. The sort who didn’t have a wife and a couple of kids stashed away in a house somewhere. Like Colin.

  The sort who didn’t change catwalk models as often as he changed his suits. Like Alessandro.

  In fact, Alessandro posed a far more dangerous option. Which, frustratingly, was probably why she couldn’t get him out of her head.

  In fact, and this thought only now occurred to her, she had managed to clear her head of Colin with a lot more success than she was having trying to clear it of Alessandro.

  Probably because she had been able to dump her job, dump London and disappear.

  While with Alessandro...having made it his duty to avoid Scotland as much as possible, he now seemed to be on the scene all the time...like a guilty conscience.

  ‘Would you like to hear what I’m thinking?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Didn’t think so. You’d much rather try to run away from what’s between us.’

  ‘There’s nothing between us!’ She was appalled at the edge of hysteria that had crept into her voice and she knew that he had heard it as well, if the knowing, speculative glint in his eyes was anything to go by.

  No one could force her to do anything. She knew that. She wasn’t going to let emotions or her body guide her actions. She had grown up since her unfortunate experience with Colin. She would use her head to make her choices! So why did she feel so hot and bothered as he continued to look at her with just the sort of pensive, amused speculation that she wished she could wipe off his face?

  Why was it so terrifying to think of the way she was attracted to him? When, theoretically, she could control that attraction by boxing it up and ignoring its existence?

  ‘Nothing except raw sexual attraction. You’re cropping up in my head when I try to focus on work. It’s very bad.’

  ‘That’s not my fault,’ Laura said faintly, pushing down the little thrill she got from hearing him say that.

  ‘Well, it’s not mine.’

  ‘There’s nothing between us,’ she repeated, just a little desperately, ‘and I don’t need the whole village gossiping about something that doesn’t exist!’

  ‘Ah, I get it. You think Evelyn the deputy head is going to start spreading unfounded rumours...’

  ‘Yes!’

  Personally, Alessandro could think of nothing worse than unfounded rumours. He’d had a couple of unfortunate experiences in that particular field...women who had stupidly spoken to a couple of reporters who had had nothing better to do than run an article or two on the private life of whatever billionaire they could find. They had intimated there had been more to their relationship than had actually been the case and had found to their cost that he could be ruthless when it came to eliminating complications. Women who expected more from him than he was willing to give became complications and women who thought that talking to reporters might somehow pin him down to something he didn’t want invariably found themselves dispatched without delay.

  Alessandro had never really thought about that side of his life, the side that refused to become emotionally involved, but on the few occasions when it had crossed his mind he had concluded that it had to do with his background.

  Love had not been readily shown. He
assumed his father cared about him but with reserve and distance, and that reserve and distance had created in him an emotional vacuum that he had never chosen to explore or overcome.

  He just wasn’t one of those types in search of happy-ever-afters. He relied on what he knew and what he knew was the world of power and big money, the concrete world of business, of deals and machinations and running an empire.

  Women were stress-busters. He was upfront with them and if some of them got the wrong idea or started imagining a future that wasn’t on the cards, then whose fault was that? Not his. He was nothing if not scrupulously honest when it came to that sort of thing.

  So unfounded rumours in a small village...?

  He decided that this would be his exception to the rule. What she did to certain parts of his body was worth the inconvenience.

  ‘Doesn’t matter, though, does it? Considering they’re unfounded?’

  ‘That’s not the point.’

  ‘You don’t care what people think to the extent that you’d actually pay attention to what they say about something that doesn’t even exist, do you?’

  Laura met those dark, cynical eyes evenly. ‘Yes, I would, because I actually care what people think of me.’

  ‘Why?’ Alessandro was genuinely mystified.

  ‘Why don’t you?’

  ‘Come again?’

  ‘It’s not natural to not care at all what anyone thinks of you. Okay, I get it that you don’t care what a perfect stranger thinks of you or what you choose to do. I mean, if the milkman peers past you into your hallway and doesn’t like your choice of wallpaper, it’s no big deal. But don’t you care what anyone thinks of you or what you do? Isn’t there anyone whose opinion matters to you?’

  ‘Shall we continue this fascinating conversation over a very early glass of wine?’ He reached across to open the car door on her side and his forearm brushed against her breast. He felt her flinch back and half smiled, even though he was still playing around with the annoying question she had posed.

  Aside from the gruelling demands of his job, what did he care about? And was not caring a strength or a weakness? Irritated by this sudden bout of introspection, he swept it aside and levered his big body out of the car.

 

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