Unwordly Secretary, Gorgeous Boss. Lee Wilkinson
rotor blades roared into action and lifted them off the ground.
‘Yes, I’m fine,’ she said, turning her face away to stare out of the window at the fast disappearing earth below.
There had been babies as well as older children there. That was the sight that had almost completely undone her. What was the point of such short desperate lives full of suffering? She could only imagine what agony their parents were going through. Yet the staff at the hospital had been full of smiles and humour, and some of the less ill children had responded with ready laughter to Fabian’s teasing and joking around. This side of his character had been a wonderful revelation to Laura, and she was still reeling from the evidence of it.
‘It is hard the first time to see the little ones in such a condition,’ he said thoughtfully, his voice raised to compete with the almost deafening sound of the rotor blades. ‘But they are so brave … so strong. The least we can do is make sure that they have every facility and comfort available to alleviate their situation as much as possible. Here …’
Finding a large white handkerchief pressed into her hand, Laura dabbed disconsolately at the tears she suddenly couldn’t hold back, vaguely aware of the scent of Fabian’s arresting cologne on the soft linen square crumpled in her palm. Still she couldn’t speak.
‘It is late and we have not yet eaten. I will get the pilot to take us to one of my favourite little restaurants so we can have dinner and talk … si?’
She managed a nod and the wobbliest of smiles. The smile Fabian delivered to her in return stole her breath away with the sheer dazzling power of its beauty and warmth.
‘You were so easy with the children … so natural.’ Laying down her fork on the pristine tablecloth, Laura held his gaze almost reluctantly.
Fabian sensed she was still self-conscious about the emotional response that she hadn’t been able to contain during and after their visit to the hospice, but her reaction only confirmed to him that she would make the most caring of mothers herself. The thought was at the forefront of his mind when he finally responded to her quiet observation.
‘It is not difficult to be oneself with children, no? They are just themselves, and so that makes it easy. And these particular little ones are such an example of courage and strength in the face of adversity that it humbles one … it truly does.’
The visit had also reminded him why he went on with the concert year after year—even though the event had been instigated by a father who had not been the best of examples, and memories of Fabian’s own painful childhood were inevitably stirred by it’s existence.
‘Clearly you have a great bond with children yourself, Laura … Motherhood is something that you must have considered from time to time?’
Taking a deceptively relaxed sip of the fragrant red wine he had ordered with their meal, he realised that there was definite tension inside him as he awaited her response. A faint becoming flush bloomed on her cheeks as she glanced away from him, and he glimpsed sadness in her eyes before she tore her gaze free to stare out at the twinkling lights of the town below.
Situated on a charming terrace high on the hillside, the restaurant had a view that was breathtaking and magical. The cuisine was also exceptional, which was why it had fast become one of Fabian’s favourite places to dine when he was back home.
‘Laura?’ Knowing he had triggered something hard to bear inside her, he felt the tension in the pit of his stomach grow.
‘I would love to be a mother,’ she answered quietly, returning her glance warily to his. ‘I didn’t tell you before but … I was married up until just over two years ago.’
Married? Shock and surprise imploded inside him. Carmela had not acquainted him with such a startling piece of information—but then why should she?
‘My husband died. We were in a car accident, and unfortunately he was killed outright.’
‘Please accept my condolences.’
Even as he voiced the stilted-sounding words, Fabian duelled with feelings of relief as well as regret that Laura had suffered such a shocking event. Relief that she had survived and—if he was honest—relief that she had a husband no longer …
‘Thank you. I wanted children—of course I did. But my husband, he …’ She folded her hands on the tablecloth, interlinking her ringless fingers with an agitation she wasn’t quick enough to disguise. ‘He didn’t feel the same way.’
Lifting her glass, she drank some wine, as though striving to contain whatever bruising memories had surfaced inside her. When she returned it to the table again she looked slightly calmer. But Fabian wasn’t fooled. It must have been devastating to a woman who loved children as she did to be with a man who had not shared that feeling.
‘And the accident did not affect your ability to bear children in the future?’ he heard himself ask.
‘Thankfully, no. Broken bones … cuts and bruises … that was the extent of my injuries. I’m lucky there was no internal bleeding, or anything that could have caused a major problem.’
She had escaped being killed in a car crash, had lost her husband and been left with physical scars as well as psychological ones, no doubt—and she thought herself lucky?
‘I am sorry that I have inadvertently raised a subject that brings you so much pain and sorrow.’ His hand moved across the table to cover hers. It was deathly cold. ‘The visit to the hospice clearly upset you far more than I had envisaged, but I did not know beforehand that you had your own personal tragedy to endure.’
‘How could you have known? But don’t think for one second that I regret going. It makes me want to work even harder to help make this concert the very best it can be! Thank you for giving me the opportunity to meet those wonderful children. I’ll always remember them.’
‘Now you must eat something. Food and wine can help in times like these. And if we do not look as though we are enjoying our meal my good friend Alberto, who owns this restaurant will think we do not like it and will worry that he has done something wrong!’
It wasn’t until he glanced downwards that Fabian saw he was still holding Laura’s hand, and she had made no move to dislodge it.
She had wondered what Fabian’s incredible hands might look like holding a child, and since yesterday at the hospice, and before that with Maria’s granddaughter Cybele, she had seen for herself. Now Laura could hardly get the image out of her mind.
Her thoughts were thus occupied when he came up behind her at the photocopier, and Laura sensed the air crackle with the electricity of his presence. She didn’t turn around.
‘You are very quiet today. Is anything wrong?’
Pressing the keypad to issue further copies she did not really need, Laura hid behind the confusion of noise to disguise her feelings—disturbing feelings that she barely knew what to do with.
‘I’m fine! There’s nothing wrong. I’m just concentrating on my work, that’s all.’
‘You are still perhaps upset at seeing the children yesterday? It is completely understandable and nothing to try and hide.’
To Laura’s disconcertment she felt his hands come to rest on either side of her hips, the contact all but burning her through her thin silk dress. Heat descended like soft, intoxicating warm rain on skin laid bare to its touch.
‘I like this dress you are wearing,’ he murmured softly behind her, his warm breath stirring her loosened hair.
Sucking in her own breath, she felt shock and pleasure roll through her with equal force. He’d already filled her with myriad longings by the touch of his hand holding hers last night at dinner to comfort her, but this … this had to be the sweetest, most sensual torment she’d ever experienced!
‘It’s nothing special.’
‘On