The Uncompromising Italian. CATHY WILLIAMS
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is it ridiculous?’ Alessio allowed himself to be temporarily side-tracked.
‘I know you’re probably one of these guys who slips into flattery mode with any woman you happen to find yourself confined with, but I’m afraid that I don’t go into meltdown at empty compliments.’ What on earth was she going on about? Why was she jumping into heated self-defence over nonsense like this?
When it came to business, Alessio rarely lost sight of the goal. Right now, not only had he lost sight of it, but he didn’t mind. ‘Do you go into meltdown at compliments you think are genuine?’
‘I...I...’
‘You’re stammering,’ he needlessly pointed out. ‘I don’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.’
‘I don’t...err...feel uncomfortable.’
‘Well, that’s good.’
Lesley stared helplessly at him. He wasn’t just sinfully sexy. The man was beautiful. He hadn’t looked beautiful in those pictures, but then she had barely taken them in—a couple of grainy black-and-white shots of a load of businessmen had barely registered on her consciousness. Now, she wished she had paid attention so that she at least could have been prepared for the sort of effect he might have had on her.
Except, she admitted truthfully to herself, she would still have considered herself above and beyond being affected by any man, however good-looking he might happen to be. When it came to matters of the heart, she had always prided herself on her practicality. She knew her limitations and had accepted them. When and if the time came that she wanted a relationship, then she had always known that the man for her would not be the sort who was into looks but the sort who enjoyed intelligence, personality—a meeting of minds as much as anything else.
‘You were telling me about your daughter...’
‘My daughter.’ Alessio sighed heavily and raked his fingers through his dark hair.
It was a gesture of hesitancy that seemed so at odds with his forceful personality that Lesley sat up and stared at him with narrowed eyes.
‘Where is she?’ Lesley looked past him, as though half-expecting this unexpected addition to his life suddenly to materialise out of nowhere. ‘I thought you mentioned that you had no family. Where is your wife?’
‘No sprawling family,’ Alessio amended. ‘And no wife. My wife died two years ago.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘There’s no need for tears and sympathy.’ He waved aside her interruption, although he was startled at how easily a softer nature shone through. ‘When I say wife, it might be more accurate to say ex-wife. Bianca and I were divorced a long time ago.’
‘How old is your daughter?’
‘Sixteen. And, to save you the hassle of doing the maths, she was, shall we say, an unexpected arrival when I was eighteen.’
‘You were a father at eighteen?’
‘Bianca and I had been seeing each other in a fairly loose fashion for a matter of three months when she announced that her contraceptive pill had failed and I was going to be a father.’ His lips thinned. The past was rarely raked up and when it was, as now, it still brought a sour taste to his mouth.
Unfortunately, he could see no way around a certain amount of confidential information exchanging hands because he had a gut feeling that, whatever his uninvited email correspondent wanted, it involved his daughter.
‘And you weren’t happy about that.’ Lesley groped her way to understanding the darkening of his expression.
‘A family was not something high on my agenda at the time,’ Alessio imparted grimly. ‘In fact, I would go so far as to say that it hadn’t even crossed my radar. But, naturally, I did the honourable thing and married her. It was a match approved by both sides of the family until, that is, it became apparent that her family’s wealth was an illusion. Her parents were up to their eyes in debt and I was a convenient match because of the financial rewards I brought with me.’
‘She married you for your money?’
‘It occurred to no one to do a background check.’ He shrugged elegantly. ‘You’re looking at me as though I’ve suddenly landed from another planet.’
His slow smile knocked her sideways and she cleared her throat nervously. ‘I’m not familiar with people marrying for no better reason than money,’ she answered honestly.
Alessio raised his eyebrows. ‘In that case, we really do come from different planets. My family is extremely wealthy, as am I. Believe me, I am extremely well versed in the tactics women will employ to gain entry to my bank balance.’ He crossed his legs, relaxing. ‘But you might say that, once bitten, twice shy.’
She made an exceptionally good listener. Was this why he had expanded on the skeleton brief he could have given her? Had gone into details that were irrelevant in the grand scheme of things? He hadn’t been lying when he had told her that his unfortunate experience with his ex had left him jaded about women and the lengths they would go to in order to secure themselves a piece of the pie. He was rich and women liked money. It was therefore a given that he employed a healthy amount of caution in his dealings with the opposite sex.
But the woman sitting in front of him couldn’t have been less interested in his earnings.
His little problem intrigued her far more than he did. It was a situation that Alessio had never encountered in his life before and there was something sexy and challenging about that.
‘You mean you don’t intend to marry again? I can understand that. And I guess you have your daughter. She must mean the world to you.’
‘Naturally.’ Alessio’s voice cooled. ‘Although I’ll be the first to admit that things have not been easy between us. I had relatively little contact with Rachel when she was growing up, thanks to my ex-wife’s talent for vindictiveness. She lived in Italy but travelled extensively, and usually when she knew that I had arranged a visit. She was quite happy to whip our daughter out of school at a moment’s notice if only to make sure that my trip to Italy to visit would be a waste of time.’
‘How awful.’
‘At any rate, when Bianca died Rachel naturally came to me, but at the age of fourteen she was virtually a stranger and a fairly hostile one. Frankly, a nightmare.’
‘She would have been grieving for her mother.’ Lesley could barely remember her own mother and yet she still grieved at the lack of one in her life. How much more traumatic to have lost one at the age of fourteen, a time in life when a maternal, guiding hand could not have been more needed.
‘She was behind in her schoolwork thanks to my ex-wife’s antics, and refused to speak English in the classroom, so the whole business of teaching her was practically impossible. In the end, boarding school seemed the only option and, thankfully, she appears to have settled in there with somewhat more success. At least, there have been no phone calls threatening expulsion.’
‘Boarding school...’
Alessio frowned. ‘You say that as though it ranks alongside “prison cell”.’
‘I can’t imagine the horror of being separated from my family. My brothers could be little devils when I was growing up but we were a family. Dad, the boys and me.’
Alessio tilted his head and looked at her, considering, tempted to ask her if that was why she had opted for a male-dominated profession, and why she wore clothes better suited to a boy. But the conversation had already drifted too far from the matter at hand. When he glanced down at his watch, it was to find that more time had passed than he might have expected.
‘My gut feeling tells me that these emails are in some way connected to my daughter,’ Alessio admitted. ‘Reason should dictate that they’re to do with work but I can’t imagine why anyone wouldn’t approach me directly