by Maggie Cox
Thumping her pillow in pure frustration, Anna released a pained groan. Then, with her eyes determinedly shut, she sent up a swift plea to the universe for the incessant worry going through her mind to grind to a halt so that she might at least get a couple of hours’ rest before having to rise for work…
‘You’re late, Miss Bailey.’
The clipped pronouncement came not from the owners of the hotel, nor Jason their son, but from Dante. He was seated at the head of the meeting table in Grant and Anita’s office, wearing another mouthwateringly tailored dark suit that he’d teamed with an elegant black shirt—the only splash of colour came from his vivid cobalt silk tie and his disturbing light eyes…eyes that now pierced Anna like the dazzling beams of sunlight reflecting on water as she stood in the doorway, wrestling with her embarrassment at being reprimanded.
So the gloves were off, were they? Clearly he’d reflected on her news of yesterday and he did mean to punish her. Making it clear he was the one in charge, he’d probably make her rue the day she’d kept Tia a secret from him and then had the temerity to say she wouldn’t marry him.
‘I’m sorry. I’m afraid I had a bit of a sleepless night. When I did manage to drop off I ended up sleeping through the alarm.’
‘Tia’s not coming down with something, is she?’ Anita’s perfectly arched brows lifted concernedly.
Straight away, Anna saw Dante’s smooth lightly-tanned forehead tighten too.
‘No, she’s fine. I just couldn’t sleep, that’s all.’
Frown disappearing, he scanned a document in front of him on the table, then lifted his gaze to examine her coolly. ‘That kind of lame excuse for being late is unacceptable, Miss Bailey. I’d advise you to get a louder alarm clock if you want to keep your position here.’
Even her employers’ mouths dropped opened at that. As the avuncular Grant shifted uncomfortably in his seat, Anita directed a sympathetic smile at Anna and mouthed don’t worry.
‘Dante?’
The older woman moved her attention immediately back to the outrageously handsome man at the head of the table. Although her voice was soft it didn’t lack authority.
‘Sleeping through the alarm happens to the best of us from time to time—and we’ve always called our staff by their first names…especially Anna. As we indicated to you before, she’s not just an employee. She’s a friend too.’
‘And that’s precisely what goes wrong in family businesses,’ Dante returned, sharp as a blade. ‘Whilst I’m all for informality, to a degree, it’s still important to monitor it so it doesn’t get out of control, or your staff will start taking advantage of your goodwill.’
‘How dare you?’ With her heart beating a tattoo that wouldn’t shame a military marching band, Anna glared at the owners’ new partner and took affront at the superior tone in his voice. ‘I would never dream of taking advantage of my employers’ goodwill. I owe them everything…they’ve given me a job, a home—’
Pulling out a chair next to Jason and dropping down into it, she firmly closed her lips to stop any further angry words from recklessly pouring out. What was between Dante and her was personal, she thought furiously. She wouldn’t drag her personal resentments into work meetings and neither should he!
So she hadn’t been able to sleep last night? Dante reflected with satisfaction, ignoring her outburst. His glance swept helplessly over her delicate, now flushed features. Well, neither had he. Learning only a few short hours ago that he was the father of the most engaging and beautiful child he’d ever seen had never been going to help him get the best night’s rest known to man. Neither was the fact that Anna had seemed far from keen on the idea of marrying him. As in the past, rejection was like a scythe, slicing open his heart. But Dante had already decided she could refuse him all she liked—because in the end he was determined to have his way. As far as his daughter was concerned he would use any means possible to ensure she had the upbringing and the future she deserved. But right now he needed to deal with what was in front of him—his promise and commitment to the Mirabelle, to turn the business around and have it flourishing again. Already his mind was buzzing with ideas for changes and improvements. And he would begin as he usually began when he went into a business to update it and improve its profitability—he would interview the staff.
‘Can I pour you some coffee? ‘ Reaching for the newly filled cafetière, Dante glanced expectantly at Anna as she sat down on the other side of his desk.
‘No, thank you.’ Her sherry-brown gaze briefly acknowledged him then quickly moved away again.
Irritation and disappointment threatened his effort to be as good-humoured and fair as possible. Was she still brooding about him ticking her off earlier? As much as his pride wanted to cajole her into viewing him more favourably, right now this interview needed to get underway as well as remain professional, and Dante knew a battle of wills wouldn’t help. Their personal issues would have to wait until later tonight.
‘Fine…Good. We’ll make a start, then, shall we?’
‘As you wish.’
‘For goodness’ sake, you don’t have to sit there like you’re about to climb the steps up to the guillotine! All I’m doing is interviewing you about your job.’ Tunnelling his fingers through his hair, Dante knew his breath was slightly ragged as he fought to regain control of his temper. What was it about this woman that always inflamed him? Whether it was lustful desire or a burst of bad temper she always seemed to inspire some kind of volatile reaction.
‘Am I going to keep my job, or are you planning to replace me with someone else in your clean sweep?’
‘What?’ His dark blond brows drew together in puzzlement. Anna was slumped back in her chair, and the fear in her eyes was suddenly clear as daylight to Dante.
‘I mean, in your drive to improve things, is my job under threat?’
A flash of memory of that night they’d met came back to Dante, and he recalled her telling him that she’d lost her previous job to a ‘ruthless takeover’.
‘I’m only interviewing you to find out what your responsibilities and duties are, and if you enjoy your work. I have no plans to replace or fire anyone right now, so your job is quite safe.’
‘Oh…’ Her sigh was relieved. Her restless hand lifted to play with the tiny heart-shaped crystal on the end of a slim gold chain she wore round her neck. Had an admirer bought her that?
His equilibrium coming under disagreeable fire yet again, Dante leaned forward to level his gaze. ‘Now that we’ve got that out of the way, perhaps you could give me a rundown of your duties?’
‘I will… Only…’
‘What?’
‘I’m worried that because you’re clearly angry with me about Tia you might deliberately find something wrong about the way I do my job so—so that you can get back at me in some way.’
‘What?’ Stunned, Dante widened his blue-grey eyes. ‘Do you really think I’d resort to the kind of tactics that would jeopardise my daughter’s well-being? Think about it. If I tried to punish you in some way, would it not have repercussions for her too? I’d hardly allow that.’
‘You see? That’s where our sticking point is. I don’t know you well enough to know what you might be capable of.’ Her slender shoulders lifted in a shrug. ‘All I know is that it’s been a confusing and worrying time, what with the threat of Anita and Grant possibly having to sell up and leave, and then—and then out of the blue you show up, and I learn that you’re the man who’s looking to invest in the hotel and will become the new senior partner. More importantly, I then have to break the news to you that Tia is your daughter. I had no idea how you’d react. We only spent a night together. You might feel utterly compromised and furious. Or you might.’ Her voice faltered a little. ‘You might want to try and take her away from me. Can you wonder why I couldn’t sleep last night?’
Dante pushed to his feet, because the restlessness and annoyance that deluged him wouldn’t allow him to remain sitting.
&nbs
p; ‘Why would I want to try and take her away from you? Don’t you think—to use an English expression—that would be rather like shooting myself in the foot? I can see that she adores you, and you her. From what I’ve seen you’ve done an admirable job of raising her by yourself. But I’m sticking by my original conviction that she needs her father in her life too. She needs two parents…which is why I said we should marry.’
‘Why would you want to tie yourself to a woman you knew for just one night?’ Anna’s voice was slightly husky as she asked this, and a tiny perplexed crease puckered her brow.
‘Because that one night resulted in a child…a child I didn’t even know about until yesterday!’ He drove his hands into his trouser pockets as he moved away from the desk, briefly presenting her with his back.
Was the impression he’d left her with so poor that she hadn’t considered even for a moment trying to contact him? It didn’t make Dante feel very good or wanted. It just made him mad. Briefly thinking of his father and his ex, he wondered what rare quality he had that made it so easy for people to walk away from him. And to make them think he wouldn’t be concerned about his own flesh and blood.
‘Dante?’
Garnering his composure, he turned back to face the striking redhead on the other side of the desk.
‘What is it?’
‘I didn’t tell you before because I didn’t quite know how to put it, but I did initially try to contact you when I found out I was pregnant. I did find out your name, and I even looked you up on the internet.’
‘And?’ Dante interjected impatiently, his heart thudding.
‘Your reputation was quite—quite intimidating. To be perfectly honest, it worried me. I didn’t even know if you’d remember me, let alone believe me when I told you I was pregnant. Anyway…’ Glancing away, Anna heaved a sigh. ‘I decided perhaps it was best after all if I didn’t contact you. But some months after Tia was born the conviction that you had a right to know about her took hold of me again. For days I followed every lead I could to try and track you down, but it was as though you’d disappeared. Of course now I realise that it was because you’d changed your name. I went back to believing that maybe it had never been on the cards that we should meet again. In any case, for all I knew you could have married and had children with someone else. And besides…that night we were together you did tell me it was a one-time-only thing and that I had to accept that…remember?’
Dante remembered. He sombrely reflected on how he’d regretted that over the years. There had been many lonely nights when he would have been thrilled to have Anna in his arms again. But, to be brutal, at the time all he could have offered her was sex. Not even companionship had been an option. Not after his mother’s death. He’d been in too dark a place to take anyone there with him. But it still hit him hard that because of his ruthless reputation Anna had been frightened of trying to make contact. And later, when she’d wanted to try and find him again, he had changed his name back to Dante Romano. He could no longer blame her for anything. Everything that had happened was his fault.
‘We cannot turn back the clock. That is beyond even my power, ruthless reputation or no.’ His lips twisted ruefully. ‘What has happened in the past has happened, and all we can do now is face what’s in front of us today. Besides…our personal issues probably shouldn’t be discussed in work time. We’ll talk tonight, as previously agreed. Right now I have an interview to conduct.’
He sat down again, automatically switching his brain to work mode. He’d turned that ability into a fine art over the years whenever emotions had threatened to swamp him. The woman sitting opposite him was silent.
‘Anna? ‘
For a moment she seemed troubled. But then the corners of her pretty mouth curved into a smile.
‘You mean you’re not going to call me Miss Bailey any more? ‘ she teased.
The look on her face was somewhere between angel and imp, and Dante all but groaned—because it was as though someone had shot a flame-tipped arrow straight into his loins. A charged memory of her whispering softly into his ear and moving over his body, erotically sliding her mouth over his as her long hair, carrying its scent of oranges and patchouli, drifted against him surfaced powerfully.
‘When we’re working together, and in the company of our colleagues, I may from time to time call you Miss Bailey. When we’re alone.’ his voice lowered meaningfully ‘.I’ll call you Anna.’
‘Right.’ Beneath her flawlessly satin skin, a soft pink bloomed like a summer rose.
Gratified that he still had the power to discomfit her, Dante couldn’t help the smile that escaped him.
‘We’ll carry on then…yes? ‘
‘Yes, all right.’ She straightened her back, but her expression seemed transfixed and he had to prompt her again.
‘Anna? ‘
She patted down her hair.
‘Sorry. To answer your question—my first responsibility is to the manager…to help support him in fulfilling the hotel’s promise of delivering an impeccable service to the customer.’
‘And how do you and Mr Cathcart get on? Do you communicate well? Are there any problems there, for instance?’
‘There aren’t any problems. Jason—Mr Cathcart and I have always got on. He’s kind and fair… just like his parents.’
‘So you like him?’
‘Yes, I like him. We work very well together.’
‘Good…that’s good to hear.’
Twirling his pen absently between his fingers, now it was Dante’s turn to fall into a trance. Studying the arresting face before him, the face that had haunted his sleep many nights in the past, he had a hungry need to just look and appreciate. To his mind, Anna Bailey’s features were perfect. The finely shaped brows above those dancing long-lashed brown eyes, the slim and elegant nose and the pensive pretty mouth—there was a serenity about her that was more than a little appealing to a man who had lived his life mostly in the fast lane.
Did Jason Cathcart enjoy that aspect of her company too? He had certainly been voluble in his praise of Anna’s talents and abilities during his interview with Dante earlier. A fierce little knot of jealousy throbbed painfully under his ribs. Did the man wish they were more than colleagues? he wondered. A disturbing image of him getting cosy with Anna and Tia almost stole his breath.
‘And is Mr Cathcart good at leading and inspiring his staff, would you say?’ he asked, gravel-voiced.
‘Definitely.’ A flicker of apprehension crossed Anna’s face. ‘You interviewed him earlier. Surely you formed an impression of him? ‘
‘I did,’ Dante answered abruptly. ‘And that, of course, will remain confidential. Now, what other responsibilities does your role entail?’
Even though he would have preferred to quiz Anna further about her impression of her colleague, he knew it shouldn’t be in the arena of a professional conversation concerning her job. Corralling the urge to ask her outright if she had more personal feelings towards Jason, he listened intently as she described other aspects of her role as assistant manager, determinedly making himself focus on the interview at hand and not get sidetracked by emotion.
CHAPTER SIX
THE ring on the doorbell just after she’d checked to see if Tia was asleep made Anna’s heart skip a beat. She knew it was Dante. He had vowed he’d return later, after going back to his apartment. They’d agreed he would drop by after she’d put Tia to bed so that they could talk in private.
Glancing at the two slim-stemmed wine glasses she’d left on the coffee table, she nervously smoothed down the multicoloured jersey tunic dress that she’d hastily donned over black leggings and cinched with a vivid green belt, praying she didn’t look as flustered as she felt.
‘Hi.’
She hadn’t known how starved she was for the sight of his sculpted, strikingly good-looking face until she was confronted by it at the door. Her pulse went wild. In turn, Dante’s disturbing gaze ran up and down her figure with equally hard-to-hide
intensity, and every flicker of his glance was like lighted touchpaper to already simmering embers.
‘Come in,’ she invited, her voice hoarse, practically pressing herself into the wall to let him pass.
‘Nice perfume,’ he remarked, low-voiced, as he entered, his eyes reflecting electric blue sparks tonight, rather than the dramatic hue of stormy seas. ‘Sexy.’
‘Thanks,’ Anna murmured, her mind going unhelpfully blank at the compliment.
‘I’ve brought some very good Italian wine.’ He placed a dark slim bottle into her hands. ‘It’s a Barolo. It comes from a region known as Piedmont, where they’re famed for making the best wines.’
‘That’s kind. I’ve got some dry white chilling in the fridge, but if you prefer red then that’s fine with me. We can have either.’ Shrugging self-consciously, she shut the door behind them, adding, ‘I don’t mind.’
Wishing she didn’t feel as if she’d been shaken hard, then stood on her head, Anna led the way into the living room.
‘When we first met, I didn’t know you were Italian,’ she remarked lightly.
‘Only on my mother’s side.’
‘What about your father?’
‘He was British.’
‘That explains why you used the surname Masterson, then. You don’t have much of an Italian accent, either.’
‘I stopped residing in Italy a long time ago.’
‘Why? Did your parents move to the UK?’
His fascinating eyes darkened almost warningly. ‘No. They didn’t. They parted company when I was very young…younger than Tia, in fact.’
‘And you didn’t want to stay in Italy? ‘
