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Fifteen minutes later they’d made their farewells and were bumping down the road to the airport in the same Jeep they’d arrived in only forty-eight hours ago, which seemed unbelievable. Hannah felt as if she’d lived an entire lifetime in the space of a few short and incredible days. And that lifetime, she reminded herself, was over.
An hour later they were settled in first class in the aeroplane to London. Luca waved away the offers of champagne and Hannah looked out of the window, stupidly stung. A few days ago he’d said he’d enjoyed watching her taste champagne. But she’d had quite a bit of champagne since then, and she had a feeling it would taste flat now anyway. So much for tickly.
As soon as they’d taken off Luca got some papers out of his briefcase and spent the entire flight immersed in work. Hannah told herself she was grateful not to have to make awkward small talk, but silence gave her the unwelcome space to remember every second of last night’s encounter.
Just thinking about the way Luca had kissed her, with such overwhelming intensity and passion and desperation, made her inner muscles clench and she shifted restlessly in her seat. She had to get over this. Her job and her sanity were both at stake. She couldn’t work with Luca every day and remember how he’d felt. How he’d tasted.
And she’d forget in time, Hannah assured herself. Of course she was still thinking about his kiss. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours. But the memory would fade in time, and who knew? Maybe in a week or month or ten years, she and Luca would laugh about the one bizarre interlude they’d had on a Mediterranean island.
Hannah settled back into her seat and started to flick through the films available on her entertainment console. Yes. That was exactly how it was going to be.
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#u4f4978b9-1712-5358-b80f-d37e100db43a)
THE NEXT MORNING Hannah dressed for work in her smartest pencil skirt and silk blouse, slipped on her highest, sharpest stiletto heels. She needed armour.
On the Tube on the way into the Moretti Enterprises office, she worried if she was making too much effort. Maybe Luca would think she was trying to impress him. But she’d nip that prospect right in the bud the second she arrived. She’d make it quite clear to Luca that she was as interested and invested as he was in getting their relationship back on a firm, professional footing.
She needed to get her life back to normal, both for Jamie’s sake as well as her own. She’d had a happy reunion with her son last night, reading stories and cuddling before bed.
Once Jamie had been tucked in bed, Diane had regaled Hannah with stories of their weekend together: a trip to the zoo, baking fairy cakes on a rainy afternoon. Then her mother had cocked her head and swept her with a knowing yet inquisitive gaze.
‘I didn’t realise Luca Moretti was so handsome.’
‘Haven’t you seen his picture in the tabloids?’ Hannah had answered a touch too sharply. ‘He’s often photographed with some socialite or other.’
‘You know I don’t read the tabloids.’ Her mother had sat back, arms folded. ‘But going on a business trip with him was a departure from the way things usually are, wasn’t it?’
That, Hannah had reflected sourly, was a complete understatement. ‘Yes, it was,’ she’d answered.
‘Do you think you’ll go on another trip with him?’
‘No,’ Hannah had answered firmly, and thankfully her mother hadn’t asked her any more questions.
That morning as dawn light had filtered through the curtains Jamie had crept into her bedroom, teddy bear dangling from one chubby fist, and climbed into bed with her. Hannah had snuggled his warm little body against her, savouring the precious moment. It had reminded her of her priorities, and put the events of the weekend firmly into their place—a moment out of reality, nothing more.
Luca had not yet arrived when she reached the penthouse office, and Hannah breathed a sigh of relief that she had a few moments to compose herself and begin work without worrying about her boss.
She was well into her in-tray when he arrived, striding through the lift doors, looking devastatingly sexy in a navy blue suit, his close-cropped dark hair bristly and damp from the rain.
Hannah looked up as he entered, and the breath bottled in her lungs, every thought emptying from her head as her gaze locked on his body and her mind played a reel of X-rated memories. With effort she yanked her gaze away, staring down at the spreadsheet she’d been working on, the numbers blurring before her distracted gaze.
‘Good morning.’ Luca’s voice was brisk and businesslike, giving nothing away. ‘I’ll be in my office if you need anything.’ And he strode past her desk, closing the door behind him with a decisive click.
Hannah ignored the pinpricks of hurt and disappointment she felt at his obvious dismissal and refocused on her work.
Luca didn’t emerge from his office all morning, and Hannah managed to plough through paperwork until just before lunch, when she needed Luca’s signature on some letters.
She approached his door with trepidation, bracing herself for his hostility.
‘Come in,’ Luca barked after she knocked on the door, and she pushed it open, the letters in her hand.
‘I just need you to sign these,’ she murmured, and Luca beckoned her forward. It was no more than he would have done a week ago, but now the command seemed autocratic and unfeeling. Her problem, she told herself. She had to get over her unreasonable reaction to this man.
She placed the letters on the desk, taking a careful step away as he signed them so she wouldn’t breathe in his cedarwood scent or feel the heat emanating from his powerful body.
‘Here.’ Luca handed her the letters, and his hand brushed hers as she took them. Hannah felt as if she’d been scorched. A tremor went through her body, followed by a wave of helpless longing that she knew she couldn’t disguise. Everything in her yearned to have him touch her again, and this time with intent.
Luca cursed under his breath and heat surged into Hannah’s face. ‘I’m...I’m sorry,’ she muttered, embarrassed beyond belief that her reaction was so cringingly obvious to him. ‘I thought I’d go to lunch if you don’t need me.’ Wrong choice of words. ‘I mean, if there’s nothing you need me to do...in the office...’ Could she make this any worse?
‘I know what you meant,’ Luca answered tersely. ‘Yes, you can go.’
With relief Hannah fled from the room.
* * *
Luca watched Hannah leave his office as if she had the fires of hell on her heels, and let out a weary groan. This was all much more difficult than he’d thought it would be. Much more tempting. The merest brush of Hannah’s hand against his own had made his body pulse with desire, hardly the distraction he needed during the working day.
They’d both settle down, he told himself. Their attraction, without anything to nurture it, would surely fade. Perhaps he’d take a business trip to the US, check on some of his properties in development there. Give them both a chance to cool off. An opportunity to forget.
Except Luca didn’t think he’d ever forget the feel of Hannah’s slender body yielding to his, or, more worryingly, the way she’d held him when he’d been so angry and defeated, the sweet, heartfelt way she’d comforted him. That was something he definitely needed to forget.
Abruptly Luca rose from his desk to stare out at the bustling city streets. He wasn’t used to craving another person’s company or comfort. He’d lived his life alone, ever since his mother had died, battling his way through boarding school and foster care, and even before then, when she’d been too busy or despairing to care for him.
He’d chosen to lift his chin and ignore the taunts and scorn that had been heaped upon him as a bastard growing up fatherless in a remote Sicilian village. He’d pretended the snubs and jibes of the entitled boys at school had bounced off him. He’d always acted as if he didn’t care and he’d almost convinced himself he didn’t...until he’d come face to face with Andrew Tyson, the man who had rejected him once already. His father.
Letting out a shuddering breath, Luca turned from the window. In a week or so Tyson would seal the property deal, and he’d be the owner of the resorts his father’s legitimate children had refused to take on. He’d have control of the inheritance that would have been his, as firstborn son, if Tyson, the alleged family man, had deigned to marry the woman he’d impregnated.
Then he would finally have his revenge.
In the meantime, he needed to get hold of his rampaging libido and shut Hannah Stewart firmly back in the box where she belonged: as his PA, an employee like any other.
* * *
Hannah took an unaccustomed full hour for lunch, walking the streets of the City, trying to talk herself out of this ridiculous reaction to Luca Moretti. She reminded herself of how she used to be with the man, calm and cool and professional. That was how she needed to be again.
She felt more herself when she’d returned to the office, and thankfully Luca was closeted behind a closed door, taking a conference call. Hannah got on with her day and had just about convinced herself that she had this thing under control.
Then Luca opened the door to his office and heat and memory and longing all surged through her body, an unstoppable force.
‘I’m going home for the day, to pack,’ Luca announced. Hannah kept her gaze glued to her computer screen and willed her hands not to tremble.
‘Pack...?’
‘I’m going to America for a week, to check on some of my properties there.’
‘Would you like me to make travel arrangements?’ Hannah asked.
‘No, I’ve taken care of it myself.’ He paused, and Hannah forced herself to meet his iron gaze. ‘This thing between us, Hannah. It will fade.’
Hannah didn’t know whether to be gratified or embarrassed that he was acknowledging it. Was he actually saying that he felt it too, as much as she did? ‘Of course,’ she managed. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t mean things to be awkward.’
Luca shrugged. ‘It never should have happened. I’m sorry it did.’
Ouch. ‘Of course,’ Hannah said stiffly, trying to keep the hurt from her voice. She shouldn’t care. She really shouldn’t.
‘But,’ he continued, his voice and expression both inflexible, ‘you will tell me if there is a result?’
A result? It took Hannah a second to realise he meant a pregnancy. ‘I told you I would. But I don’t think—’
‘Good.’ For a second she thought she saw regret in his eyes, longing in his face. But no, she was imagining it; he looked as hard and unyielding as ever as he nodded once in farewell and then walked out of the office.
* * *
Hannah spent the week trying to get on with her life. She spring-cleaned her house and bought several new outfits and had her hair and nails done, not for Luca Moretti’s sake, but her own. She took Jamie to the cinema and the park on the weekend, and told herself she was blessed in so many ways, and she didn’t need anything more in her life. Certainly not a man who would only break her heart—again.
At least, she discovered a few days after Luca had left, she wasn’t pregnant. The realisation brought relief that was tinged by a little impractical disappointment. Honestly, what on earth would she have done with another baby? It was hard enough being a single mum to one child.
The day Luca arrived back at work she’d dressed carefully in one of her new outfits, a slim-fitting dress in silvery grey silk with a tailored black blazer. She had her hair in a more glamorous chignon rather than her usual practical ponytail, and she felt polished and confident and strong.
Then Luca walked through the lift doors. Hannah’s heart seemed to stop as her gaze swept over him and she noticed the weariness in his eyes, the lines of strain from nose to mouth. She had a nearly irresistible urge to go to him, offer him comfort as she had once before.
And look where that had ended.
‘Hello,’ she said stiffly, turning back to her computer. ‘Welcome back.’
‘Thank you.’ Luca paused by her desk, and Hannah breathed in the spicy male scent of him. ‘Has anything of note happened while I’ve been away?’
‘No, not particularly.’ She’d kept him abreast by email, and even that had felt like too much contact. ‘The post is on your desk.’
‘Thank you.’ Still he didn’t move away, and Hannah tore her gaze away from her computer to look up at him. His gaze locked on and burned into hers, and she felt as if she could lose herself in the deep brown of his eyes.
‘Luca,’ she whispered, her voice breathy and soft. Luca’s expression hardened.
‘I’ll be in my office.’
* * *
A week away hadn’t changed anything. Luca swivelled in his chair, restless and angry with himself for still responding to Hannah in such a basic and yet overwhelming way. The mere sight of her looking so poised and elegant had made him yearn to sweep her into his arms, pluck the pins from her hair and lose himself in the glories of her mouth.
While in New York he’d tried to distance himself from the memory of her touch by going out with a model he’d once been friendly with, but the elegant, gorgeous woman had left him completely cold. He hadn’t been able to summon the interest even to kiss her, and she’d been quite put out as a result.
Maybe, he mused, he was going about this the wrong way. Maybe instead of forgetting Hannah he needed to get her out of his system. He’d been able to tell, simply from that one small exchange, that she still reacted to him just as powerfully as he did to her. Why not have a fling? They’d work out this inconvenient attraction and then resume their professional relationship. He didn’t want to lose his PA, and he knew Hannah didn’t want to lose her job. Surely they could be sensible about this. Businesslike, even. They’d both agreed that neither of them wanted the risk of a real relationship, so Hannah should surely be amenable to the kind of arrangement he was thinking about. All he had to do was offer.
CHAPTER TWELVE (#u4f4978b9-1712-5358-b80f-d37e100db43a)
HANNAH HAD JUST put Jamie to bed and changed into comfy yoga pants and a fleece hoodie when the doorbell rang. She was exhausted, emotionally spent from having been on high alert with Luca in the office, and she wanted to do nothing more than kick back with a glass of wine and maybe some ice cream and watch several hours of soothingly mindless reality TV.
Suspecting her elderly neighbour needed help opening a jar or reaching something on a high shelf—Hannah was called on for these kinds of services several times a week—she opened her front door with a sunny smile pasted onto her face and felt it slide right off when her stunned gaze took in the sight of the powerful form filling her doorway.
‘Luca...what are you doing here?’
‘I want to talk.’ He bent his head so as not to hit the low stone lintel. ‘May I come in?’
Hannah had a kneejerk reaction to refuse. She didn’t want him in her house, overwhelming her life with his presence, his power. She glanced behind her, as if looking for assistance but none was forthcoming. ‘All right.’
She led Luca to the small sitting room, which, after a quick post-tea tidy-up, was free of any evidence of her son. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘Not exactly.’ Luca’s perceptive gaze took in the little room with its worn sofa and coffee table, the small TV in the corner. With framed prints on the walls and bookcases overflowing with paperbacks, it was homey and cosy but a far cry from the luxury Hannah knew he was accustomed to.
‘I’m not pregnant,’ she blurted. ‘If that’s why you came. It’s certain.’
‘Oh.’ Luca looked surprised, and then discomfited. ‘No, that’s not why I’m here.’
‘Oh. Okay.’ Flummoxed, she gestured to a chair. ‘Would you like to sit down?’ It felt surreal to have Luca in her little house, taking up all the space and air. She sat on the sofa and he sat in a chair opposite, his hands resting on his muscular thighs.
‘This isn’t working, Hannah.’
Her stomach lurched unpleasantly. She couldn’t pretend not to understand what he was talking about. ‘I’ll get over it,’ she said a bit desperately. ‘It can work—’
‘It’s not just you,’ he interjected. ‘I feel it too.’
Her heart somersaulted at that admission but she still felt wary. She couldn’t lose her job. ‘So what are you suggesting? I need my job—’
Luca grimaced in distaste. ‘Do you actually think I’d fire you over this?’
‘You might think of a convenient reason to let me go or at least shift me to another position in the company.’ The latter wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing, even if she’d miss the status and salary, not to mention the challenge, of being the CEO’s executive assistant. And, she admitted painfully, she’d miss Luca.
‘That’s not the kind of man I am,’ he answered stonily, and Hannah thought she detected hurt underneath his hard manner.
‘I’m sorry, I’m just paranoid, I suppose.’ She spread her hands. ‘You hold all the cards, Luca.’
‘Then let me play one now. I want you, Hannah. I want you in my bed. Properly, and not just for a few mindless minutes.’
Hannah stared at him in shock, the blood draining from her head, making her dizzy. She could not think to string two words together.
‘I don’t see any reason why we shouldn’t have an affair,’ Luca stated. ‘We’re obviously attracted to one another, and those feelings are not going away. I think it would be far better to explore this mutual attraction to our satisfaction, and then part on good terms.’ His eyes glittered as he pinned her with his stare. ‘I’m a very considerate and generous lover, Hannah.’
‘I know you are,’ she answered numbly. The shock was dissipating, replaced by anger, and, far worse, hurt. ‘I’ve arranged the courier from Tiffany & Co. enough times to realise,’ she added tartly.
Luca didn’t look remotely abashed at this statement. ‘Then you agree?’
‘To what, exactly? Being your mistress?’ Her voice rang out, making him blink in surprise. Hannah held on to her rage. Better to be angry than to break down into tears, bitterly disappointed that this was what he was offering her. No-strings sex. How could she even be surprised?
‘“Mistress” is an outdated term,’ Luca observed. ‘And not one I’m entirely comfortable with.’
‘But isn’t that what you have? Mistresses?’
‘Lovers,’ he corrected swiftly. ‘And one at a time. You’re an independent woman, Hannah. I’m not suggesting I take that away from you.’
