Real Italian Charm: A BWWM Billionaire Romance

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Real Italian Charm: A BWWM Billionaire Romance Page 18

by Lacey Legend


  It was such a cryptic sentence and his eyes were so soulful, Tabitha didn’t know whether to kiss him passionately or hug him and assure him everything was going to be okay. Their gaze held a fraction too long. The pod suddenly felt too small to hold them both.

  “More champagne?” offered Tabitha trying to break the somber atmosphere.

  “May as well finish it off.”

  Freddie poured the champagne and kicked himself for not seizing the opportunity to kiss Tabitha. Having spoken to her at length over dinner, he felt an intrinsic desire to not jeopardize the potential relationship with this remarkable woman; and not let it develop into something romantic and long-term.

  They drank in silence.

  Hopping off the London Eye, Freddie was relieved he’d be able to introduce Tabitha to his friends to reduce the mounting tension between the two.

  As they walked along Southbank, side by side, Tabitha was confused by Freddie. He seemed open and friendly and yet his comment to not judge him harshly made him revert back to the mysterious man from the office she’d experienced twenty-four hours earlier. Part of her wanted to clear the air and ask him to clarify the statement, but he appeared to have closed himself off from her and she didn’t want to alienate him any further.

  “Here we are,” announced Freddie, reverting back to his jovial self.

  “Where? What? I don’t see it.”

  “That’s because it’s on the river.”

  Freddie pointed at a party boat filling with people.

  “Does that run every night?”

  He shook his head.

  “No, it’s a private charter. It’s my sister’s thirtieth birthday tonight.”

  “And you thought taking me to a family function was a good idea?”

  Freddie laughed.

  “I told you I wasn’t a psycho. I don’t think it’s quite time for you to meet the parents. This is a young affair. No parents allowed. Not only is there free booze and a top DJ, but you’ll be mixing with people in your own age group.”

  “It does look fun.”

  “I promise you I’ll take you home if you hate it.”

  Tabitha shot him a look.

  “I can party with the best of them. In fact I’ll probably be the last woman standing.”

  “Not if I have my way,” thought Freddie devilishly.

  “Let’s go party, then.”

  Any concerns Tabitha had regarding Freddie from earlier soon diminished. She worked on the philosophy that you could tell a lot from a person by the people they hung out with – the people Freddie hung out with were superb fun. Their sharp British humor, genuine friendliness and sheer exuberance for life made it difficult to find fault with them. It didn’t go unnoticed by Tabitha that they were high earners or from wealthy backgrounds, but they had no desire to flash their cash. They were focused on ensuring Freddie’s sister Isabella was enjoying turning the big 3-0.

  The soles of her feet burning from Freddie flinging her round the dance floor, Tabitha took herself off to sit down for a while, to relax and recuperate before joining in with the bumping and grinding again.

  “Tabitha isn’t it?” asked Freddie’s sister, Isabella.

  Smiling, Tabitha shook hands with the birthday girl.

  “Are you enjoying your party?”

  “I am. More so because you’re here.”

  “How’d you figure that?” quizzed Tabitha.

  “I think the whole introducing your girlfriend to the friends’ scenario is a huge occasion. What if they don’t get on or fit in? It just makes things awkward in the relationship.”

  “I just met Freddie last night,” said Tabitha.

  “Wow, sorry. I didn’t realize. Freddie’s so private I never actually know what’s going on in his life. I just assumed by the way the two of you interacted that you were close.”

  Tabitha shook her head.

  “I’m glad you told me that. I had this sinking feeling that your brother was a complete madman and having known each other for all of twenty-four hours, was rushing round telling everyone I was his girlfriend.”

  Isabella was in hysterics.

  “That’s definitely not Freddie’s style.”

  Isabella looked on the verge of asking Tabitha a question, but the words stayed on her lips. Keen to know more on Freddie, Tabitha was tempted to prompt her into asking the question or revealing the detail, but didn’t want to pry. With the feeling that she’d just created awkwardness between herself and Freddie’s love interest, Isabella immediately defused the situation.

  “How did you and Freddie meet then?”

  “At work.”

  Again Isabella looked a little stunned by the simple fact.

  “How’s that working out for you?”

  “I’ve only been there a week. I think I’m going to have a lot of work to do to bring the company into the 21st Century.”

  Isabella clinked her champagne glass with Tabitha.

  “I’m a journalist in fashion. If you manage to work the magic here that you did in New York, I’d be happy to help out.”

  “Thanks. My first contact.”

  “Don’t feel it restricted to business. London can be a lonely, old city for any newcomer. I’d be happy to go for lunch or shopping if you fancy it.”

  Tabitha was touched by the offer.

  “Thanks so much, that’s even better than having a fashion journalist in my contact list,” she winked.

  The girls parted, with Tabitha smiling at how well the evening was going.

  “Not flagging yet?” asked Freddie, taking her by the hand toward the dance floor.

  “How’d your sister know I work for the New York branch of Hastings-Bass?”

  Freddie flinched.

  “Guess I mentioned it earlier on.”

  The explanation slipped easily off his tongue and Tabitha had no real reason to question it.

  As the party dwellers diminished in the early hours of Sunday morning, true to her word, Tabitha was the last person standing. She dragged Freddie on the floor for a final dance having begged the DJ for one last track.

  “The tubes have stopped running, you know,” said Freddie softly in her ear as he held her.

  “Guess we’ll have to split a cab.”

  “I’m not sure I’m going to be able to stay awake. I can get you home, but if I crash out after that the taxi driver won’t know where to go to drop me off.”

  “Tell me and I’ll be sure to tell the driver, or better still write it on your hand to show the driver, that way we’ll both get home safely.”

  “You really are no fun,” said Freddie in a mock sulk.

  “You really need to work on your pick-up lines,” laughed Tabitha.

  Chapter Four

  Tabitha knew when she woke on Sunday morning, it was verging ever closer to being Sunday afternoon. Eyes closed tight, she mentally did an assessment of her body. Her legs ached from dancing. Her head was pounding with a hangover and her tongue felt thick and furry.

  “I cannot feel like this for work tomorrow,” she thought.

  Slowly opening her eyelids, hoping the light wouldn’t blind her, she had the strangest sensation that she wasn’t alone. The feeling made her movements slow and silent. Rotating her neck she saw an additional body in her bed. The head on the pillow had golden hair. She knew exactly who was sharing the bed. She shut her eyes quickly, sending out a silent prayer for recollection of how the previous night concluded.

  “I know you’re awake,” announced Freddie casually.

  Tabitha’s mind raced to analyze his tone of voice.

  “The underlying sentiment of that statement is definitely casual,” Tabitha silently determined. “Is that because he’s had his wicked way with me and no longer cares for my feelings? Perhaps he literally just crashed here for the night and there’s nothing to worry about because nothing happened?” she contemplated.

  Freddie didn’t need to read her mind to guess what she was thinking.

  �
�It’s okay, we didn’t sleep together,” enlightened Freddie. “Actually to be concise we only slept together; we didn’t have sex.”

  Tabitha felt herself smiling. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed. Mind you, if she had slept with him and couldn’t remember it would’ve been a glaringly obvious sign that they weren’t sexually compatible. That they were comfortable enough to pass out on the same mattress was a positive step in respect of something serious developing between her and the handsome Brit.

  “I suspect it’s going to sound really bad on my part if I ask how we ended up in this predicament.”

  “It’s not an unexpected question at all,” said Freddie, rolling over to face Tabitha.

  His stormy blue eyes were so deep she felt if she gazed into them too long she might lose herself forever.

  “Your efforts at partying last night were positively heroic. As I recall you were somewhat disappointed that the club closed at 2 am.”

  “Oh, my. We did go on clubbing afterward, didn’t we?”

  Freddie nodded.

  “It was heaven, wasn’t it? You got us a booth. It was quite swanky. There was a lighting display and a Brazilian music vibe going on.”

  “You remember. You can’t have been as drunk as I thought,” chuckled Freddie.

  “Was it nearby?”

  “Not too far. The Notting Hill Arts Club. They do chill out sessions this evening if you fancy it.”

  Tabitha couldn’t tell if Freddie was being serious or not.

  “I better not. Tomorrow’s my first day solo as Marketing Director. The last thing I want is to be nursing a hangover and battling sleep deprivation when I’m trying to win over the old fogeys.”

  Freddie rolled onto his back and placed his hands under his head to gaze at the ceiling with a bemused smiled on his face. It was only then that Tabitha noticed he was without a shirt. They may not have had sex, but how was it that this hunk was semi naked? She didn’t dare look under the covers to see what was (or wasn’t) underneath it. Had there been some kind of affectionate fumbling taking place before they slept?

  “If I can’t lure you back to the Arts, what’s your view on taking in a bit of fresh air and lining your stomach with stodgy food to aid your recovery,” suggested Freddie.

  Lifting the sheet slightly, Tabitha saw she was wearing an oversized Brooklyn Nets basketball vest and baggy track pants. She’d yet to recall the actual circumstances surrounding her changing into her pajamas, but felt confident enough body-wise to get up.

  Sluggishly dragging herself from bed, she raised the blind of the window and twisted her head at an obscure angle in an attempt to see what the weather was like.

  “It actually looks quite sunny out,” she stated; hoping Freddie would take her observation as an acceptance of his offer for lunch and a walk.

  “I suppose I should get dressed, then,” said Freddie.

  “How is it that you came to be in a state of undress?” asked Tabitha innocently.

  “Sadly, none of your night dresses fitted me. I didn’t think going commando would be appropriate.”

  As Freddie threw back the covers, Tabitha was given the full view of him in his tight legged black Emporio Armani boxers. His physique resembled that of a Greek Adonis. There wasn’t an ounce of body fat on him. Though slim, he was all muscle.

  “Can I grab a shower?”

  Tabitha swallowed hard. With a concentrated effort she was able to divert her eyes from Freddie’s fine form.

  “Sure. There are fresh towels in the linen cupboard in the bathroom,” she squeaked.

  As soon as she heard the shower running, she was able to sit on the bed and catch her breath. She was having difficulty defining why she was attracted to Freddie. If it was purely physical then it wouldn’t be wise to become involved with him, given the conflict of interest with work. If it was something more – a meeting of minds or an emotional connection – then she’d have to tread very carefully in how the relationship developed.

  Seeing Freddie fully dressed in the same clothes from last night when he appeared from the bathroom slowed Tabitha’s heartbeat. Taking a quick shower too, Tabitha felt a little clearer headed. She jumped into a clean pair of black jeans with a freshly pressed white men’s dress shirt combined with black boots.

  Locking the flat, and walking toward Bayswater Road, Freddie mindlessly laced his fingers through Tabitha’s. The gesture felt natural to him and he thought nothing more of it. Walking down Bayswater Road in the sunshine to see a plethora of artists displaying their paintings, pictures and prints seemed the perfect way to spend a Sunday.

  Tabitha was at ease with Freddie as they admired and privately joked about the various pieces of art being canvassed on the street.

  “Fancy stopping at The Swan for lunch?” asked Freddie after a time.

  Tabitha looked at the historical coach inn which now served as a pub. The beer garden at the front was full.

  “Will we get a seat?”

  “Not outside, but that mightn’t be the worst thing,” stated Freddie, waving toward a sky that was threatening to become overcast within the hour. “I can promise you a cracking Sunday roast inside.”

  “Let’s do this.”

  Adept as ever, Freddie had them both seated and served in a reasonable period of time. The roast was perfect and the pint of beer Freddie suggested as, hair of the dog, did appease Tabitha’s hangover.

  “How’d you end up working for Hastings-Bass?” asked Tabitha, eager to use the time to learn more about Freddie as opposed to continuing to reveal her entire life story.

  “Not dissimilar to your tale, but with less of a struggle. While my parents separated when I was young, university was always in the cards for me – there was never a question that the funding would be available. I did multiple summer internships at Hastings-Bass in London. As soon as I finished I was recruited in accounts and worked my way up the ladder to my current position of Financial Director.”

  “You make it sound like a bad thing.”

  “It wasn’t a bad thing, but I feel bad when I realize how easy I had it compared to you. You fought tooth and nail to get where you are. I sort of had it handed to me on a platter.”

  Tabitha assessed Freddie. He wasn’t apologetic or lacking in self-esteem, but she felt his matter-of-fact description was self-deprecating.

  “You do yourself a disservice, Freddie. Okay, maybe you were fortunate to have a financially secure family to put you through college, but you still had to study and sit for the exams to graduate. Perhaps you had contacts that made obtaining your internships convenient, but you were still required to attend them and work there. It’s not like you walked into straight Hastings-Bass as Financial Director. By your own admission, you started on the lowest rung and worked your way up. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “I’m not ashamed. It is what it is, but I’d be arrogant and foolish if I thought my experience was a hardship. It wasn’t. I am good at what I do and I like my job, but let’s not pretend I had a struggle comparable with yours.”

  “We aren’t in competition,” said Tabitha, gently.

  “No, we’re not.”

  Freddie reached across the table and placed his hand on Tabitha’s.

  “How’d your sister Isabella come into fashion? It’s unusual that you both work in the same industry, but in such different jobs.”

  Freddie flinched and swiftly took his hand off Tabitha’s.

  “I suppose you could say we had a shared interest in fashion. Izzy’s was broader than mine and journalism allows her the freedom to cover the entire industry, whereas my interests are vested in Hastings-Bass.”

  “It’s nice that you two are close. You don’t always see that in siblings.”

  “My parents’ divorce was ugly. Izzy’s two years younger than me. It transpired during that turbulent period where mother and father were organizing the division of assets that I became the stable male figure in her life.”

  “Why
is it when I talk to you I get the feeling you’re dodging around a huge issue?”

  “Probably because I am,” answered Freddie bluntly.

  He respected Tabitha’s openness and boldness. That she was airing her observations of his behavior rather than probing him for the big reveal, showed sensitivity and honesty on her part.

  “I’m British. Talking publicly of personal matters isn’t particularly easy for me. Not with our culture.”

  “The great British Reserve,” laughed Tabitha. “I suppose it’s even more incomprehensible when it’s a complete stranger delving into your private life.”

  Freddie caught her dark brown eyes; alongside intelligence and compassion, they radiated loyalty.

  “Only you aren’t a complete stranger, Tabitha.”

  The one simple sentence pushed into momentum the direction the twosome were going to take. After finishing lunch and roaming to the end of Bayswater Road, Freddie and Tabitha ambled back to her flat.

  “I suppose I should go. Let you relax and catch up on sleep to make the right impression at work tomorrow,” muttered Freddie.

  “I suppose you should,” agreed Tabitha.

  Chapter Five

  Freddie stood planted on the doorstep to Tabitha’s basement flat.

  “The trouble is Tabitha; I don’t really want to leave.”

  “That is troublesome,” Tabitha concurred, “because I don’t want you to leave either.”

  Freddie bent his head to let his lips brush Tabitha’s. The second she felt the warmth of his kiss she knew she’d fallen for him and there was no going back.

  As she parted her lips, Freddie’s hand went to her cheek. Cupping her face, he deepened the kiss. His tongue slid slowly and sensuously into her mouth. The firm, but gentle kiss drew Tabitha’s body closer to his. Tabitha pulled up Freddie’s grey t-shirt, which smelled of last night’s partying, so she could let her hands run up the bare skin of his back.

  “Let’s get inside,” whispered Freddie, into her mouth mid-kiss.

  Thankful she’d gotten as far as unlocking the door, Freddie stepped forward, forcing Tabitha to step backward into her flat. He flung the door shut behind him. Away from the public eye, Freddie wasted no time in slipping off his shirt.

 

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