Along with her change in shape had come a change in wardrobe. Out had gone the frumpish size fourteen clothes she had once hidden behind and in their place was an array of size tens, clothes with shapes and textures and colours she had never really been able to carry off before.
‘I’d rather we weren’t too late, though,’ she said, bending down to scoop up her handbag which was on the floor by her desk. ‘I still have unpacking to do. And you needn’t worry about me falling behind with my work. I intend to spend the weekend at home with some of the files making sure that I know exactly what’s going on with all our accounts.’
‘Right.’
‘Where are we going to eat?’ Rose glanced down at her working clothes. ‘I’m not really dressed for anywhere too fancy.’ And Gabriel didn’t really do cheap and cheerful. Not because he was a crashing snob but because he never really had any need to. She should know. She had booked enough restaurants for him in the past to realise that gingham tablecloths and bare floorboards were not his style. Something a little wicked stirred inside her.
‘I know a very good Italian,’ she said, pausing to look at him. ‘And it’s close to where I live so I can get home relatively quickly once we’re done…’
‘Fine.’ Gabriel was already regretting his invitation. It had not been meant as a working dinner, despite what he had said, and he now felt as though he had been pushed into a corner, forced to gear everything towards business when really he wanted to unwind and, if he were honest with himself, find out a bit more about the woman who had gone to Australia and returned completely changed.
‘You don’t mind, do you?’
Gabriel shrugged. ‘One restaurant is as good as another when it comes to discussing work.’
He called his driver to collect them from the front of the building and discovered that he was only marginally interested in what Rose had to ask about what had been happening in the office during her absence.
By the time they had reached the restaurant a solid forty minutes later, having waged war with the late evening traffic that had reduced some of the roads to gridlock, he was mightily fed up with discussing mergers and acquisitions. He was even more fed up with the interested but impersonal tone of her chatter. He couldn’t remember ever having had such a pressing urge to get behind the smoothly calm surface and see what lay there.
‘I hope this isn’t too casual for you, Gabriel.’
Gabriel narrowed his eyes and tried to work out whether there was a certain insolence in her voice, although when he looked at her she just seemed politely concerned.
‘Why should it be too casual?’ he asked as they entered the restaurant. It was more of a pub than a restaurant, with after work people milling around by the bar area, while others were seated at wooden tables in small, animated groups. And, to his surprise, Rose seemed to be known at the place. Someone materialised out of thin air, smiling and kissing her on both cheeks before showing them to a table tucked away at the very back.
‘Because I know you tend to like more expensive places.’
‘Oh, do I?’
‘Yep.’ She turned to him and smiled dryly. ‘Don’t forget I book them for you.’ She lowered her eyes and slipped into her seat. ‘Beautiful women like expensive restaurants, you once said. They enjoy the goldfish bowl feeling, hence you go to places where seeing who’s there is half the fun.’
‘I once said that?’
‘You did.’
‘I’m surprised you didn’t accuse me of being shallow.’
Rose shrugged, glanced at him and glanced away. ‘Each to their own. Besides, I work for you.’
‘That’s never stopped you from speaking your mind.’
Rose flushed and remained silent. Yes, she had always spoken her mind, had never been scared to disagree with him and he had allowed her to be as open as she felt. Was that one of the reasons why her emotions had become involved, even though she had tried desperately hard to rein them in? He might be a hard task master, with almost zero tolerance of anything that smacked of laziness or stupidity, but he was also the fairest man she had ever met and willing to listen to anyone’s opinions, provided they could be backed up. It was an immensely persuasive side of his personality and one to which she had been exposed for four long years.
‘Is this your local?’ Gabriel asked, changing the subject. He looked around and, after a few minutes, his gaze finally rested on her. ‘I didn’t imagine that this would be your kind of place.’
‘Why is that?’ Rose answered with asperity.
‘Because…it’s pretty noisy.’
‘And I’m more of a library kind of person?’
‘You’re putting words into my mouth, Rose.’
‘I’m tired.’ She was grateful for the waiter’s interruption, placing her order without bothering to look at the menu. ‘Why don’t you fill me in on what’s been happening? I know a bit from your emails, but if you give me some details it’ll be easier for me to catch up.’
‘That Australia flight’s a long one,’ Gabriel said, avoiding the subject of work, which seemed unutterably boring just at the moment. ‘I can understand why you’re tired. And I expect you miss your sister as well, hmm…?’
‘Yes. Of course I do. Although they’re planning on returning to England to live some time next year. Both of them feel it’s time to come back home now that baby Ben is on the scene.’
Their food arrived and Rose was amused to see surprise register on Gabriel’s face as he noted the quality of the dishes. He looked up, caught her eye before she could look away, and grinned.
‘Now I’m going to get a sermon on the foolishness of people who pay over the odds for a meal they can easily get somewhere else at half the price…’
‘No, of course not.’
‘I would come to places like this if it weren’t for the fact that clients and women expect more elaborate entertaining.’
‘I can understand the clients, but maybe you need to mix with a different kind of woman.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Say what?’
Rose, who had not really been paying much attention to what she had been saying, looked up to find his midnight-blue eyes fixed on her. Weren’t they supposed to be talking about work? Wasn’t that the whole point of them being here?
‘I’ve never really known what you think about my…women…but I guess you must have had opinions on them over the years. After all, you’ve met them all…’
‘Not really…’ Oh, yes, she had opinions on them! Beautiful, empty-headed, utterly unthreatening. For a long time she used to wonder how a man as dynamic and astute as Gabriel could ever be interested in the stereotype of the blonde bimbo. Yes, she could understand his need to have a beautiful woman on his arm. Like attracted like, after all. But wouldn’t he have been more challenged by a woman who had something to say for herself? Then gradually she had realised the simple truth, which was that he didn’t want to be challenged. He got enough challenge with his work. What he wanted was docility. When he eventually decided to settle down, he would doubtless want that same docility from a woman who would be content to serve him, have his children and patiently stand by while he worked all the hours God made. Behind the passion and seduction of his work, he would require a soothing, calming domestic life.
‘Is that why you’re looking at me with such disapproval?’ Gabriel asked and Rose caught herself with a little start. While she grappled with the dilemma of working out how to lead the conversation back into safe waters, Gabriel seized the moment to press her for an answer.
‘Was I?’
‘Oh, yes. Your little mouth was pursed tightly with disapproval!’
Rose glared at him and he grinned back at her, knowing very well that his description would have got under her skin. It wasn’t like him to tease. Up until now she had rebuffed every effort he had ever made to move their relationship on to a more cordial basis and he had obligingly backed off, but something had changed and, although he couldn
’t put his finger on it, he knew that he was rather enjoying the change.
He smiled down into the glass of wine he was cradling in his hand. She had stuck to water but, with a driver waiting patiently for him outside, he had decided to have a couple of drinks.
‘What you do in your private life is entirely up to you.’ Rose heard the primness in her voice with mounting irritation. ‘If you choose to go out with women whose IQs are in single figures, then that’s your business!’
‘Ah. I never took you for an intellectual snob,’ Gabriel murmured in an infuriatingly meek voice.
‘I am not an intellectual snob!’ Rose defended hotly.
‘And how,’ Gabriel continued with pseudo-thoughtfulness, ‘can you condemn women who like having money lavished upon them unless you’ve been in that position before?’ He paused. ‘Have you?’
‘No, but…’
‘I mean, how do you know that you wouldn’t enjoy being taken to the finest restaurants? Having pearls and diamonds bought for you? Being flown to Paris or Venice for the weekend?’
‘I don’t recall booking too many flights to Paris or Venice for weekend jaunts,’ Rose said tartly. Gabriel had no problem in spending vast sums of money on gifts for the women who came and went in his life but setting aside time for them was an entirely different thing. He rarely had time off and when he did he invariably went back to Italy to visit family. She should know. She didn’t think he had ever booked a flight himself.
‘You know what I mean,’ Gabriel said irritably.
Torn between abandoning the conversation and standing up for herself, Rose took the plunge and for once set aside her determination to keep her thoughts to herself. ‘I don’t have to have expensive things bought for me to know that it wouldn’t be what I wanted. My parents both instilled in us a healthy awareness that money doesn’t buy happiness.’
‘Oh, I know that money can’t buy happiness,’ Gabriel agreed readily. ‘At least not happiness of the lasting kind, but it can buy fun…’
‘Depends if you think fun is having a six-month fling, dusting yourself down and moving on,’ Rose muttered.
‘I take it you don’t think it is…’
‘This is a ridiculous conversation. Weren’t we supposed to be talking about work? Apparently, I need to be brought up to speed just in case I get left behind.’
Gabriel knew damn well that his comment had been totally unjustified, but hell, he had invited the woman out to dinner only to find that she had no desire to go so apologising wasn’t on his list of priorities. Nor was discussing work. He couldn’t think of anything duller than discussing acquisitions, profit and losses, breakdowns in supply and demand with one of his hotels, not when the alternative was so much more interesting.
‘There’s no chance that you’ll get left behind, Rose,’ he said placatingly. He nodded to the waiter to clear their plates and when another glass of wine was offered he looked enquiringly at her dubious expression.
‘Please don’t tell me that that nasty concept called fun also includes the occasional bit of alcohol…’ That, he was pretty sure, would really get her bristling, and it did.
‘Of course I have a drink now and again! I do have a life outside work, Gabriel.’
‘Tell me about it.’ He was in there like a shot, having dispatched the waiter to bring them a glass of wine each. Large. ‘No boyfriends with lavish spending habits—that would be unhealthy and bad for the soul…’
Rose opened her mouth to respond and then shut it. Instead she gave him a wry look. ‘The devil finds work for idle hands, Gabriel. I feel very sorry for those poor girls if you were like this with them.’
‘Like what?’ Gabriel asked piously.
‘Barbing them.’
‘None of them would have been equipped to handle it.’
‘Or maybe you respected them more…’ Rose insinuated quietly.
‘Don’t be bloody ridiculous. Is that what you really think? That I don’t respect you? Or are you just fishing?’ When she didn’t answer, he raked his fingers through his hair and gave her a brooding, frustrated look. ‘They were bloody useless, the lot of them. I meant it when I said that I needed you, Rose. I do.’ His magnificent blue eyes flicked over her and he added, wickedly, ‘Need you and want you…’ He watched slow colour infuse her cheeks.
Rose, accustomed to his brilliance, his impatience and his temper, which was seldom directed at her, was thrown off balance by his flirtatious charm, something which she had always assumed was abundant but reserved for the women he dated. She didn’t like it. It made her feel vulnerable and uneasy and she stoically hung on to her composure and managed to say, without any inflection whatsoever in her voice, ‘You think you do, Gabriel, but no one is indispensable, least of all a secretary.’ She sipped her wine and eyed him over the rim of her glass.
‘Don’t underestimate yourself.’
‘I’m not. But I’m not about to think that your working life will grind to a halt if I’m not around.’
‘Maybe not grind to a halt,’ Gabriel admitted. ‘But run considerably less smoothly. I’ve spent the past three months finding that out.’ He was amused to realise that she had never voiced her opinions to him about the women in his life. He also realised that, without using so many words, she had managed to imply distaste with how he conducted his private life. Belatedly it occurred to him that she had widely overstepped the mark with her smugness and she had got away with it. How did that follow when he prided himself on being a man who knew exactly where to draw his verbal boundaries? Healthy criticism on the work front was fine. In fact, to be encouraged! His personal life was, however, his own business and not up for discussion. He chose to disregard the little voice in his head telling him that he had solicited her opinion. It was not really fair now if he castigated her for having one because he didn’t like it.
She had moved on, though. Was defining the role of secretary and why it was a position relatively easy to fulfil. Sounding like a member of the Personnel department giving advice to a prospective interviewee.
Gabriel grunted non-commitally.
‘Basically,’ she concluded, ‘if I’m to be successful recruiting someone, then you need to tell me exactly what you’re looking for.’
‘Recruiting someone?’
‘For the days when I’m at college.’
‘How many days would that be?’
‘I…I’ll be able to tell you that by the end of the week and I can start recruiting in a few weeks’ time.’
‘Naturally, you will have to continue managing sensitive clients and anything that might be of a confidential nature.’ He signalled for the bill and contemplated the dispiriting prospect of a never-ending train of incompetent girls scuttling around, trying and failing to keep up with him. ‘The key quality I’m looking for is an ability to function without behaving like terrified little rabbits every time I speak.’
‘We’ve been through that,’ Rose said patiently. She glanced at her watch and realised that it was a lot later than she had imagined. And they still hadn’t touched upon all that work which apparently she needed to be filled in on. ‘We haven’t got down to discussing work,’ she pointed out.
‘And now you have to go? Or else you might turn into a pumpkin?’ He frowned and tapped in the pin number for his card. ‘I’ll drop you back to your house.’
‘No need. I live within walking distance.’
‘Nonsense. I would never let a woman walk back to her house at night.’
‘I do it every single day, Gabriel! Do you think I take taxis to and from work? The bus stops just down from here and I walk to my house quite safely, no matter how dark it is.’ She didn’t really know why she was bothering to protest because Gabriel always did what he wanted to do. Right now he wanted to play the gentleman and drop her back to her house.
‘You need a car,’ he said abruptly.
Rose stopped dead in her tracks and looked at him with her mouth open. ‘I need a what?’
&nbs
p; ‘A car. A company car. The fact that you haven’t got one has been an oversight on my part.’
‘You must be desperate to hang on to me,’ she said wryly, ‘if you’re now offering me a car…’
‘It’s not exactly unusual for a PA to have a company car.’ He held open the car door for her to slide in. ‘Where do you live?’
Rose gave his driver the directions. Today was proving to be a day of firsts for her and she was uneasily aware that a number of them didn’t sit well with her. This was the first time Gabriel had managed to crash through her carefully maintained barriers. No, they hadn’t shared confidences over a bottle of wine but he had seen her professional mask slip and that wasn’t good. It was also the first time he had flirted with her. Or at least spoken to her in that velvety, amused voice that she had only ever heard him use occasionally on the phone to one of his women. It was also the first time they had shared a meal together in a restaurant, just the two of them with no particular work agenda driving the occasion. None of these firsts did anything to soothe her frayed nerves at being back in his company after three months.
It was odd but it almost felt as if a door between them had opened. Over the years she had managed to cope with her feelings for him by being very careful to make sure that their roles were defined. He was her boss, a man she respected, got along well with but ultimately a man who gave her orders which she was obliged to follow. Over time, as they had grown into one another, his orders had stopped resembling orders but she had never deluded herself into thinking that she was anything to him but a very useful tool.
Some of the things she had been requested to do, as far as she was concerned, went beyond the bounds of secretarial duties. Presents for some of his girlfriends, flowers at the end of an affair, bookings for restaurants. She had done them without argument, however. She had never volunteered an opinion and he had never asked her for one. Tonight, some of those barriers had been eroded and Rose felt like a snail suddenly deprived of its protective shell.
The Italian Boss's Secretary Mistress Page 3
