Unwordly Secretary, Gorgeous Boss. Lee Wilkinson
her neck sloped down into her collarbone made Laura gasp out loud. She was glad she was standing next to something she could lean on, because all of a sudden her limbs had no bones to hold her upright.
‘Fabian … you shouldn’t be—please don’t do that!’
With a supreme effort she forced herself to move, to turn around and face him, and was stunned to see the liquid heat that blazed back at her from his azure eyes. A heat that confirmed to her it was desire that interested him right now … not the demands of the concert or running his estate or anything else. It had been a long time since Laura had thought of herself as desirable, and it was hard to believe a man like him would look at her that way … as if he could eat her up with just a glance!
‘You looked so pretty … so fragile and thoughtful … as you stood there with the sunlight glinting in your hair. I could not resist you!’ His fingers tipped up her chin. They were hard, warm and insistent, so that she had no choice but to face him. ‘Do not be afraid of me, Laura … I would never do anything to hurt you.’
‘I—I know that. Look, I’d really better get back to work. The list of things to do seems to be growing ever longer, and time isn’t standing still!’
She broke away from him so abruptly she nearly fell over a nearby chair, and with her face flaming with embarrassment she bolted from the room before Fabian could stop her.
He had mulled over the stunning and perhaps crazy idea he’d had over and over again until finally—restless and slightly agitated from its relentless demand—he’d left Laura amid the detritus of organisation and gone for a walk.
The Moritzzoni family estate included several hundred acres of fertile land around the villa, and Fabian had headed off deep into the hills, uncaring that the afternoon sun laid its hand upon his unprotected head like an overheated iron. Eventually driven to seeking some shade, he’d dropped down onto his haunches beneath a dense grouping of trees, and now he wiped the sweat from his brow and the back of his neck with an unconnected, distracted air.
A compelling picture stole into his mind … the soft, melting glance on Laura’s face when Cybele had appeared during lunch yesterday. And when his old friend Lachimo had made that comment about her making a perfect mother Fabian had felt an answering leap of confirmation deep in his gut. Later on in the day, when they’d visited the children at the hospice, another layer of admiration and approval of her maternal instincts had been beguilingly reaffirmed.
Perhaps it wasn’t so crazy after all to contemplate the route that had become almost too persuasive to ignore? If he were going to commit to such an undertaking at all then he would much prefer it to be with a woman who had no connection with his past or his family. That way it would be a completely fresh start for both of them. A woman who genuinely appeared to love children as well as sharing his own passion for music might be persuaded to see that the idea had much to commend it—despite her avowed uninterest in wealth. Their partnership would not be complicated or sullied by the kind of emotional entanglement that Fabian wanted to avoid at all costs. Yet there would be physical consolation too. He recalled how aroused he’d been when he’d kissed her neck and felt her delightful body quiver through her thin dress. What if she really did turn out to be the solution he’d been searching for?
From the moment he pushed to his feet again and swept his sweat-dampened hair off his brow he had convinced himself that he should not let this potential opportunity to realise the thing he wanted most—an heir—slip away.
Working late into the evening again, Laura was surprised when Fabian returned to the office to rejoin her after dinner. He had said little during the exceptional stracotto di fagiano that Maria had served up for them, and continued to wear that same distracted, pensive air about him that he’d worn yesterday at lunch. Now he paced the floor as Laura endeavoured to tick off the myriad jobs she’d managed to accomplish that day, though it was practically impossible to ignore his eye-catching physique in fawn coloured chinos and sky-blue linen shirt as he walked back and forth in front of her. It was even more impossible not to let her gaze rest upon his perfectly shaped, highly erotic tanned bare feet as he did so …
Withdrawing her fingers from the keyboard, she flexed them a little, sensing a trickle of perspiration meander sluggishly down her back. It was as though invisible strings were pulling her attention back to him every time she tried to look away, and the fact that she couldn’t resist played on her mind. Given that she had made a spectacularly wrong choice about a man once before, her interest troubled her deeply.
‘Is there anything I can do for you?’ she asked now, her softly modulated voice sounding almost too loud in the quiet room.
‘No.’ He stared at her as though in a trance.
‘It’s just that you seem so—’
‘Si,’ he said abruptly, suddenly approaching her desk and leaning his hands on it.
Suddenly his compelling face was right in front of hers, and Laura saw the shadowed imprint that cleft his strong chin with such definition, and the faint but discernible threads of maturity that waved on his brow. As for his too-disturbing gaze—Laura did her best to skim over it, lest she willingly drown in that perfect river of blue.
‘I would like you to take a walk with me.’
‘Now?’
‘ Si. You have not had an opportunity to see the grounds properly yet, and we should go before the light dies. Fetch a wrap or shawl, if you have one, and I will meet you at the front entrance.’
In the end, it didn’t matter that it was almost dusk. Nearly everywhere Laura glanced were softly glowing lanterns and fairy lights, and the extensive grounds of the impressive Villa de Rosa took on a quality of enchantment that would ensure she never forgot the breathtaking impression it made for as long as she lived.
‘We will stop here for a moment.’
Fabian touched her arm and Laura sensed the contact sear through the delicate lace of her antique shawl, permeate her skin and reach down inside the very marrow in her bones. Ever since he’d kissed her neck she was like the most inflammable tinder to his touch. All her defences seemed to be in tatters where he was concerned.
They were standing by a weathered wooden bench positioned against an aging brick wall, and the glorious scarlet bougainvillaea that tumbled over it sang its seductive perfume to the gentle night air.
‘We will sit for a while.’
‘Something is bothering you, isn’t it? Is it anything to do with the organisation of the concert?’
‘No. I can see that you have everything under control where that is concerned, and I am impressed by what you have accomplished so far and your dedication to doing a good job.’
As he laid his hand on her knee, she saw the stunning gold and emerald signet ring on his little finger glint in the softly diffused light.
‘Then what is it?’
‘I have been thinking that we should get to know each other a little better.’
Hardly prepared for such a statement, Laura stayed quiet. But, even so, wave upon wave of heat coursed through her in a seemingly unstoppable flow.
‘What I mean is, this is a good opportunity for us to talk. Why don’t you start by telling me a little bit more about yourself? I know that you went to school with Carmela in London, that you have the most surprisingly angelic voice and have a passion for teaching music to children. What else?’
Laura’s mind seemed to freeze for a moment. Telling him more about herself would inevitably bring up the past again, and she’d really like to avoid that if she could.
‘Laura?’ His voice was edged with slight impatience.
‘I was just thinking. What kind of things would you like to know?’
As soon as the question left her lips she knew it was the wrong one. She’d been trying to buy time and