One Passionate Night. Jessica Gilmore
When she found herself staring into the gorgeous face of Antonio Bartulocci, it all tumbled back. They were on a plane to Italy. His dad had hired her. She didn’t have an apartment. She was pregnant.
Her stomach dropped.
She was pregnant. In a foreign country. Starting a new job. Working for Antonio, who needed her. But she was attracted to him. She thought he was the sexiest, most gorgeous man alive and she would be living with him. But he didn’t feel the same way about her.
That relaxed her. It could be a good thing if he only saw her as a friend. As long as she hid her crush, there’d be no problem. Plus, being on call twenty-four-seven to help him get his life back would keep her from dwelling on her problems.
That was the real silver lining. Not just the money. Not just a place to live. But someone to take care of, so she could forget about herself.
She pushed aside the soft cover. Her days of daydreaming she belonged in this world as anything other than an employee were over. She could take this job and run with it, create a halfway decent life for herself and her baby. Everything would be fine.
“Thanks for the blanket.”
Antonio smiled. “My pleasure.”
She found her purse and tucked her science fiction novel inside. Two gentlemen, Antonio and Constanzo waited for her to exit first.
Constanzo paused to say something to the pilots, but quickly joined them on the tarmac below the steps.
She glanced around. The sky was blue, as perfect as any she’d seen in Kentucky. Tall green grass in the fields surrounding the airstrip swayed in a subtle breeze that cut through the heat. “Another private airstrip?”
“You don’t think my dad’s going to have a plane and suffer the torment of going to a real airport and waiting to take off and land, do you?”
Pushing a strand of her hair off her face, she laughed. “Right. Spoiled.”
“Incredibly spoiled. You’re going to need to remember that.”
She frowned. It was the second time he’d said something odd about her getting accustomed to his dad. Still, he was her boss now. They might have been able to relate like friends on the plane, but here on Italian soil, his home turf, her role kicked in. She was his assistant. Basically, a secretary. But this was better than anything she’d even come close to finding in New York.
This was her life now.
Constanzo walked over. “Bags are on their way to the limo.”
Laura Beth said, “Wow. Fast.”
Antonio laughed. “So much for you to get used to about my dad.” He nudged his father’s shoulder. “Exactly how do you intend to explain to Bernice that you hired someone to help her?”
Laura Beth’s brow wrinkled.
Constanzo’s face reddened.
Laura Beth gasped as she faced Antonio. “You think Constanzo hired me to work for him?”
This time Antonio’s brow wrinkled. “You’re not working for my dad?”
Constanzo’s face reddened even more as both Laura Beth and Antonio turned to him.
“I did not hire her to help my PA. I hired her to be yours.”
* * *
Antonio’s mouth fell open at his father’s audacity. Anger whispered across his skin, causing his temper to bubble. He took a minute to pull in a breath and remind himself that his father hiring a PA was nothing compared to his deceased wife’s handiwork.
Still, when he spoke, his voice was harsh, angry. “Why are you meddling in my life?”
Constanzo headed for the limo again. “I’m not meddling.” He strolled across the quiet tarmac. “You said last night that you were thinking about this. When Laura Beth and I struck up a conversation and I realized she’d be perfect for the job, I did what I do best...I anticipated.”
He almost cursed. “You meddled!”
Laura Beth touched his arm to get his attention. Her fingertips warmed his skin, caused his breathing to stutter.
“I didn’t realize he didn’t have your permission.”
Constanzo bristled. “I did not need my son’s permission. He said last night he was agreeable. I anticipated.”
Antonio stayed outside the limo, unable to get himself to move into the car with his dad and Laura Beth, who had hesitantly climbed inside. Confusion and resentment clamored inside him. He wasn’t just angry about his dad hiring someone for him; his reactions to Laura Beth were wrong.
He’d always liked her. And, yes, he supposed there was a bit of an attraction there. But suddenly, today, maybe because they’d had such an intimate chat on the plane, he was feeling things he shouldn’t feel. Good God, she was a sweet girl trying to find her way in life. And he was an angry widower. He did not want to be attracted to her, and if she were smart she wouldn’t want to be attracted to him. Worse, they should not be living together.
He had to fire her.
No...Constanzo had to fire her.
Behind him, the chauffeur wheeled their luggage to the rear of the limo. One scruffy brown bag stood out.
It had to be Laura Beth’s.
Just one bag. And it was worn. So worn he would consider it unusable. But that was her best.
He scrubbed his hand across his mouth as a picture formed in his brain. Her two roommates hadn’t just found the loves of their lives, they’d made careers for themselves and she was still working temp jobs.
Damn it.
He couldn’t embarrass her by refusing to let her work for him. But he didn’t want to be living with an attractive woman—the first woman to stir something inside him since Gisella. Worse, he didn’t want someone rifling through his things.
He’d give Laura Beth a few days to rest in his country house, then gently explain that he didn’t want a PA. Since he was essentially firing her, he’d send her back to the US with a good-sized severance check and the codes for his dad’s penthouse so she’d be okay until she found a new job.
But today, once he had her settled, he intended to have this out with his dad.
LAURA BETH WATCHED Antonio climb into the limo. He didn’t say a word the entire drive to his father’s house.
Nerves skittered along her skin. He didn’t want her. It seemed he didn’t want a PA at all...Constanzo did. And the second he got out of the car, Antonio would fire her.
They reached Constanzo’s beautiful country home and he unceremoniously got out. Angry, too, he didn’t say a word to his son. When the limo began moving again, she couldn’t take the quiet.
“I’m so sorry.”
Antonio stared out the window. “Not your fault. As I told you on the plane, my dad has the mistaken belief that everything he wants should be there when he wants it. Sometimes that translates into a belief that everyone in his life should do what he wants when he wants it done.”
With that the car got quiet again. Any second now she expected him to apologize and fire her. But he didn’t. The twenty-minute drive was extremely quiet, but with every mile that passed without him saying, “You’re fired,” her spirits lifted a bit. They drove up to his gorgeous country home and he got out as if nothing were amiss.
Exiting the limo, she glanced around. Antonio’s home was nestled in a silent stretch of Italian countryside. Hills and valleys layered in rich green grass with a spattering of