Enthralled by Moretti
Page 4
‘Lyla was my mother’s name. I like it. I didn’t think there was anything wrong in using it.’
‘And so you stopped liking it when you decided to join a law firm?’
‘You said we weren’t going to do a question-and-answer session!’ Her skin burned from the intensity of his eyes on her. Alessandro Moretti, even as a young man in his mid-twenties, had always had a powerful, predatory appeal. There was something dangerous about him that sent shivers up and down her spine and drew her to him, even when common sense told her it was mad. He certainly hadn’t lost that appeal.
‘It was easier to just use my real name when I joined Edge Ellison, that first law firm. I mean, my Christian name.’
‘Why am I getting the feeling that there are a thousand holes in whatever fairy story you’re spinning me?’
‘I’m not spinning you a fairy story!’ Chase snapped. Bright spots of colour stained her cheeks. ‘If you want, I can bring my birth certificate to show you!’ Except that would suggest a second meeting, which was not something that was going to be on the cards.
But what would he do if he found out where she really came from? What would he do if he discovered that the solid, middle-class background she had innocently hinted at had been about as real as a swimming pool in the middle of the Sahara?
He might be tempted to have a quiet chat with the head of her law firm, she thought with a sickening jolt. Of course, she hadn’t lied about any of her qualifications, and she knew that she was a damned good lawyer. There was no way she could be given the sack for just allowing people to assume a background that wasn’t entirely true, yet...
Wounded pride and dislike could make a person do anything in their power to get revenge. What if he shared all her little white lies with the people she worked with—the posh, private-school educated young men and women who weren’t half as good as she was but who would have a field day braying with laughter at her expense? She was strong, but she knew that she was not so strong that she could survive ridicule at the work place.
‘I should be getting back to work.’ She drained the remainder of her orange juice and made to stand up.
Without thinking, Alessandro reached out and circled his hand around her wrist.
Chase froze. Really, it was the most peculiar sensation...as if her entire body had locked into place so that she was incapable of movement. His fingers around her wrist were as dramatic as a branding iron and she felt her heart pick up speed until she thought it might explode inside her.
‘Not so fast.’
‘I’ve answered all your questions, Alessandro!’
‘What the hell was in it for you?’
‘Nothing! I...just made a mistake! It was a long time ago. I was just a kid.’
‘A kid of twenty and already hitched. I didn’t think that kind of thing happened any more.’
‘I told you...we were in love...’ Chase looked away and shook her hand free of his vice-like grip. ‘We didn’t see the point of waiting.’
‘And your families both joined in the celebrations?’
She shrugged. ‘He’s dead now, anyway, so it doesn’t matter whether they joined in the celebrations or not.’
‘Spoken like a true grieving widow.’ Why did he keep getting this feeling that something was out of kilter? Was his mind playing tricks on him? Had his ego been so badly bruised eight years ago that he would rather look for hidden meanings than take her very simple tale of treachery at face value?
‘It’s been years. I’ve moved on.’
‘And no one else has surfaced on the scene to replace the late lamented?’
‘Why is this all about me?’ Chase belatedly thought that she might turn the spotlight onto him. If there was one thing to be said for going into law whilst simultaneously detaching yourself from most of the human race, it was that it did dramatic things to your confidence levels. Or maybe it was just her ‘flight or fight’ reflex getting an airing. She stared him squarely in the face and tried not to let the steady, speculative directness of his gaze get to her.
‘What about you?’ she asked coolly. ‘We haven’t said anything about what you’ve been up to...’
‘What’s there to say?’ Alessandro relaxed back, angling his body so that he could cross his legs. She really did have a face that made for compulsive watching. It was exquisite, yet with a guarded expression that made you wonder what was going on behind the beautiful mask. Even as a much younger woman, she had possessed that sense of unique mystery that had fired his curiosity and kept it for the duration of their strange dalliance.
And now, yet again, he could feel his curiosity piqued.
‘I’m an open book.’ He spread his arms wide. ‘I don’t hide who I am and I don’t make a habit of leading anyone down the garden path.’
‘And is there a special someone in your life? Is there a Mrs Moretti dusting and cleaning in a house in the country somewhere and a few little Moretti children scampering around outside? Or are you still only into the fast and furious relationship without the happy ending?’
‘My, my. You’ve certainly become acid-tongued, Chase.’
Chase flushed. Yes she had. And there were times when she stood back and wondered if she really liked the person she had become. Not that she had ever been soft and fluffy, but now...
‘I don’t like being trampled.’
‘And is that why you think I brought you here? To trample over you? Is that what you think I’m doing?’
Chase shrugged. ‘Isn’t it?’
‘We’re exchanging information. How could that possibly be described as trampling all over you? And, in answer to your question, there is no Mrs Moretti in a country house—and if there were, she certainly wouldn’t be dusting or cleaning.’
‘Because you have enough money to pay for someone to dust and clean for you. Are you still working twenty-four-seven? Surely you must have made enough billions by now to kick back and enjoy life?’
She used to listen, enraptured, as he’d told her about his working life: non-stop; on the go all the time. The lectures, he had said, were like comic relief, little windows of relaxation. She had teased him that, if giving lectures was his form of relaxation, then he would keel over with high blood pressure by the time he was thirty-five. She was annoyed to find herself genuinely curious and interested to hear what he had been up to. Having anything to do with Alessandro Moretti was even more hazardous now than it had been eight years ago.
‘None of my business,’ she qualified in a clipped voice. ‘Am I free to go now?’
Alessandro’s lips thinned. He had found out precisely nothing. None of his questions had been answered. His brain was telling him to walk away but some other part of him wanted more.
‘Why did you decide to concentrate on pro bono cases?’ He asked softly. ‘Surely with a first-class degree, and law firms head-hunting you, there were far more profitable things to do?’
‘I’ve never been interested in making money.’ He had stopped attacking her and she realised that she had forgotten how seductive he could be when he was genuinely interested in hearing what she had to say. He would tilt his head to one side and would give the impression that every word she uttered was of life-changing importance.
‘I’d always planned on becoming a lawyer, although the two other options that tempted me were Social Services and the police force.’ She blushed, because she didn’t think that she had confided that in anyone before—not that she did a lot of confiding anyway.
‘Social Services? The police force?’
‘So please don’t accuse me of being materialistic.’
‘I can’t picture you as a social worker, even less a policewoman.’
‘I should be getting back to work. I have a lot to do, and I’ll have to visit the shelter later today and tell them what the outcome of
my meeting with your company was. They’ll be disappointed because they honestly don’t want to move premises, not when they’ve been such a reliable fixture in the area for such a long time, and not when the majority of the women who use their services are fairly local to the area. A big place with a swimming pool and a games room in the middle of nowhere is no good for anyone.’
‘What made the decision for you?’
Hadn’t he been distracted from asking her personal questions? Having lowered her guard for three seconds, Chase now felt as though she was handing over state secrets to the enemy, and yet what was the big deal? Was she so defensive because Alessandro was on the receiving end of her confidences? And wasn’t it possible that, the more secretive she was, the more curious he would become? She forced herself to relax and smile at him.
‘The hours,’ she confessed in a halting voice. ‘I didn’t want to think that I might be called out at any time of the day or night. I might work long hours at Fitzsimmons but I can control the hours I work.’
‘Makes sense. More to the point, I suppose both other options would have involved an element of danger, and even more so for someone like you.’
‘Someone like me?’ Immediately, Chase bristled at the implied insult. ‘And I suppose you’re going to launch into another attack on me? More criticism of me that I’m a liar and a cheat? Although I have no idea how that would have anything to do with being in the police force or working for the council! I get it that you’re angry and bitter about what happened between us, but attacking me isn’t going to change any of that!’
‘Actually,’ Alessandro murmured, ‘I meant that those two professions are the ones that are possibly least suited to a woman with your looks. You’re sexy as hell; how would that have played out for you if you had found yourself in a dangerous situation...?’ The lips he had never kissed and the body he had never touched...
Suddenly, his body jackknifed into sudden, shocking arousal. The sheer force of it took him by surprise. It pushed its way past his bitterness and anger and made a mockery of the answers he had told himself he demanded to hear. As his erection throbbed painfully against the zip of his trousers, his mind took flight in a completely different direction. He imagined her hand down there, her mouth wrapped around him...
Who the hell cared about answers when he was consumed with lust? He had to shift in the chair just to release some of the urgency that was becoming painful.
He was suffused with anger at his physical response to her. She represented everything he found most repellent, yet how was it that she could still manage to turn him on? Was his libido so wayward that it could defy cool judgement and rise to the challenge of the unavailable, the unacceptable...the out of bounds? He had never lost control when it came to any woman and he had dated some of the most spectacularly beautiful women in the world. So what the hell was going on here?
‘I never gave that side of things any thought at all.’ Chase was determined not to let that description of her take their conversation in a direction she most certainly didn’t want.
Her voice was cool, Alessandro noted, yet her colour was up. And she couldn’t meet his eyes. Now, wasn’t that telling?
He knew that the last thing he should contemplate doing was to pay any credence to whatever her expression was saying or, more to the point, whatever his disobedient body was up to, and yet...
‘You know what? I think I might like to see this shelter. Evaluate just how the land will play out for what I have in mind. I’m taking it you’ll be my escort...?’
CHAPTER THREE
FOR THE FIRST time in years Chase felt helpless. Three days ago she had walked into the imposing glass building that housed AM Holdings with a simple mission: save the shelter. She had been in control—the career woman, successful in what she did, in command of the situation. She had hoped for a favourable outcome but, had there not been one, she would have left with a clear conscience—she would have done her best.
And now here she was, hanging around by the window in her house, peering out at regular intervals for Alessandro, who had made good on his request to be shown the shelter.
‘What for?’ she had demanded at the time. ‘I don’t see the point. You’re just going to demolish it anyway so that you can put up a mall catering for rich people.’
‘Be warned,’ he had said, eyebrows raised, those midnight eyes boring straight through her, making her feel as though her whole body had been plugged into a socket. ‘Do-gooders and preachers have a monotonous tendency to become self-righteous bores. Naturally, I have details of the land somewhere but I want to see for myself what the layout is. Since you’re the one handling the deal, I can’t imagine that would be a problem. Or is it? Does our past history make it a problem for you?’
Yes. Yes, it does, she had thought with rising desperation. ‘No. Of course not. Why should it?’ she had answered with an indifferent shrug.
So here she was now and she felt as though control was slipping out of her grasp. She knew that under normal circumstances a lapse in her self-control would be easily dealt with but with Alessandro...
Her frustration and anger was underlined by a darker, more insidious emotion, a swirl of excitement that scared her. It felt like a slumbering monster slowly reawakening. Even though she had taken care to dress as neutrally as possible, in a navy-blue suit that was the epitome of sexlessness—and an impractical colour, given the wall-to-wall blue summer skies and hot sunshine—she still felt horribly vulnerable as she hovered in the sitting room waiting for him to show up.
She had informed him that she would meet him at the premises, but he had insisted on collecting her.
‘You can fill me in on the history of the place on the way,’ he had said smoothly. ‘Forewarned is forearmed.’
She had bitten her tongue and refrained from telling him that there was no point being forearmed when the net result would be a demolition derby. He was the guy with the purse strings and she had already seen first-hand how he could use that position to his own advantage. She had no desire to revive the ticking clock.
A long, sleek, black Jaguar pulled up outside the house just as she was about to turn away from the window and her attention was riveted at the sight of him emerging from the back seat, as incongruous in this neighbourhood as his car was.
He was dressed in pale-grey pinstriped trousers, which even from a distance screamed quality, and a white shirt, the sleeves of which he had rolled to the elbow.
For a few heart-stopping seconds, Chase found that she literally couldn’t breathe, that she was holding her breath. The mere sight of him was a full-on assault on all her senses. She watched as he looked around him, taking in his surroundings. She felt sure that this was the sort of neighbourhood he would be accustomed to telling his chauffeur to drive straight through and to make sure the car doors were locked. By no means was it in a dangerous part of London but neither was it upmarket. Well paid though she was, she wasn’t so well paid that she could afford to buy a house in one of the trendier areas and, unlike many of her associates, she didn’t have parents who could stick their hands in their pockets and treat her to one.
She dodged out of sight just as he turned to face the house and, when the doorbell rang, she took her time getting to it. Her heart was beating like a sledgehammer as she pulled open the door to find him lounging against the doorframe.
‘Right. Shall we go?’ she asked as her eyes slid away from his sinfully handsome face, returned to take a peek and slid away again. She gathered her handbag from where she had hung it on the banister and bent to retrieve her briefcase from the ground.
‘In due course.’ Alessandro stepped into the hallway and shut the front door behind him.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m coming in for a cup of coffee.’
‘We haven’t got time for that, Alessandro. The app
ointment has been made for ten-fifteen. With rush-hour traffic, heaven only knows how long it will take for us to get there.’
‘Relax. I got my secretary to put back the visit by an hour.’
‘You what?’
‘So this is where you live.’
Chase watched in horror as he made himself at home, strolling to peer into the sitting room, then onwards to the kitchen, into which he disappeared.
‘Alessandro...’ She galvanised herself into movement and hurried to the kitchen, to find him standing in the centre doing a full turn. It was a generous-sized kitchen which overlooked a small, private garden. It had been a persuading factor in her purchase of the house. She loved having a small amount of outdoor space.
‘Very nice.’
‘This is not appropriate!’
‘Why not? It’s hardly as though I’m a stranger. Are you going to make me a cup of coffee?’
Chase gritted her teeth as he sat down. The kitchen was large enough for a four-seater table and it had been one of the first things she had bought when she had moved in three years previously. She had fallen in love with the square, rough, wooden table with its perimeter of colourful, tiny mosaic tiles. She watched as he idly traced one long finger along some of the tiles and then she turned away to make them both some coffee.
‘Is this your first house?’ Alessandro queried when she had finally stopped busying herself doing nothing very much at the kitchen counter and sat down opposite him.