The Italian Boss's Secretary Mistress. Cathy Williams
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zero tolerance of anything that smacked of laziness or stupidity, but he was also the fairest man she had ever met and willing to listen to anyone’s opinions, provided they could be backed up. It was an immensely persuasive side of his personality and one to which she had been exposed for four long years.
‘Is this your local?’ Gabriel asked, changing the subject. He looked around and, after a few minutes, his gaze finally rested on her. ‘I didn’t imagine that this would be your kind of place.’
‘Why is that?’ Rose answered with asperity.
‘Because…it’s pretty noisy.’
‘And I’m more of a library kind of person?’
‘You’re putting words into my mouth, Rose.’
‘I’m tired.’ She was grateful for the waiter’s interruption, placing her order without bothering to look at the menu. ‘Why don’t you fill me in on what’s been happening? I know a bit from your emails, but if you give me some details it’ll be easier for me to catch up.’
‘That Australia flight’s a long one,’ Gabriel said, avoiding the subject of work, which seemed unutterably boring just at the moment. ‘I can understand why you’re tired. And I expect you miss your sister as well, hmm…?’
‘Yes. Of course I do. Although they’re planning on returning to England to live some time next year. Both of them feel it’s time to come back home now that baby Ben is on the scene.’
Their food arrived and Rose was amused to see surprise register on Gabriel’s face as he noted the quality of the dishes. He looked up, caught her eye before she could look away, and grinned.
‘Now I’m going to get a sermon on the foolishness of people who pay over the odds for a meal they can easily get somewhere else at half the price…’
‘No, of course not.’
‘I would come to places like this if it weren’t for the fact that clients and women expect more elaborate entertaining.’
‘I can understand the clients, but maybe you need to mix with a different kind of woman.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Say what?’
Rose, who had not really been paying much attention to what she had been saying, looked up to find his midnight-blue eyes fixed on her. Weren’t they supposed to be talking about work? Wasn’t that the whole point of them being here?
‘I’ve never really known what you think about my…women…but I guess you must have had opinions on them over the years. After all, you’ve met them all…’
‘Not really…’ Oh, yes, she had opinions on them! Beautiful, empty-headed, utterly unthreatening. For a long time she used to wonder how a man as dynamic and astute as Gabriel could ever be interested in the stereotype of the blonde bimbo. Yes, she could understand his need to have a beautiful woman on his arm. Like attracted like, after all. But wouldn’t he have been more challenged by a woman who had something to say for herself? Then gradually she had realised the simple truth, which was that he didn’t want to be challenged. He got enough challenge with his work. What he wanted was docility. When he eventually decided to settle down, he would doubtless want that same docility from a woman who would be content to serve him, have his children and patiently stand by while he worked all the hours God made. Behind the passion and seduction of his work, he would require a soothing, calming domestic life.
‘Is that why you’re looking at me with such disapproval?’ Gabriel asked and Rose caught herself with a little start. While she grappled with the dilemma of working out how to lead the conversation back into safe waters, Gabriel seized the moment to press her for an answer.
‘Was I?’
‘Oh, yes. Your little mouth was pursed tightly with disapproval!’
Rose glared at him and he grinned back at her, knowing very well that his description would have got under her skin. It wasn’t like him to tease. Up until now she had rebuffed every effort he had ever made to move their relationship on to a more cordial basis and he had obligingly backed off, but something had changed and, although he couldn’t put his finger on it, he knew that he was rather enjoying the change.
He smiled down into the glass of wine he was cradling in his hand. She had stuck to water but, with a driver waiting patiently for him outside, he had decided to have a couple of drinks.
‘What you do in your private life is entirely up to you.’ Rose heard the primness in her voice with mounting irritation. ‘If you choose to go out with women whose IQs are in single figures, then that’s your business!’
‘Ah. I never took you for an intellectual snob,’ Gabriel murmured in an infuriatingly meek voice.
‘I am not an intellectual snob!’ Rose defended hotly.
‘And how,’ Gabriel continued with pseudo-thoughtfulness, ‘can you condemn women who like having money lavished upon them unless you’ve been in that position before?’ He paused. ‘Have you?’
‘No, but…’
‘I mean, how do you know that you wouldn’t enjoy being taken to the finest restaurants? Having pearls and diamonds bought for you? Being flown to Paris or Venice for the weekend?’
‘I don’t recall booking too many flights to Paris or Venice for weekend jaunts,’ Rose said tartly. Gabriel had no problem in spending vast sums of money on gifts for the women who came and went in his life but setting aside time for them was an entirely different thing. He rarely had time off and when he did he invariably went back to Italy to visit family. She should know. She didn’t think he had ever booked a flight himself.
‘You know what I mean,’ Gabriel said irritably.
Torn between abandoning the conversation and standing up for herself, Rose took the plunge and for once set aside her determination to keep her thoughts to herself. ‘I don’t have to have expensive things bought for me to know that it wouldn’t be what I wanted. My parents both instilled in us a healthy awareness that money doesn’t buy happiness.’
‘Oh, I know that money can’t buy happiness,’ Gabriel agreed readily. ‘At least not happiness of the lasting kind, but it can buy fun…’
‘Depends if you think fun is having a six-month fling, dusting yourself down and moving on,’ Rose muttered.
‘I take it you don’t think it is…’
‘This is a ridiculous conversation. Weren’t we supposed to be talking about work? Apparently, I need to be brought up to speed just in case I get left behind.’
Gabriel knew damn well that his comment had been totally unjustified, but hell, he had invited the woman out to dinner only to find that she had no desire to go so apologising wasn’t on his list of priorities. Nor was discussing work. He couldn’t think of anything duller than discussing acquisitions, profit and losses, breakdowns in supply and demand with one of his hotels, not when the alternative was so much more interesting.
‘There’s no chance that you’ll get left behind, Rose,’ he said placatingly. He nodded to the waiter to clear their plates and when another glass of wine was offered he looked enquiringly at her dubious expression.
‘Please don’t tell me that that nasty concept called fun also includes the occasional bit of alcohol…’ That, he was pretty sure, would really get her bristling, and it did.
‘Of course I have a drink now and again! I do have a life outside work, Gabriel.’
‘Tell me about it.’ He was in there like a shot, having dispatched the waiter to bring them a glass of wine each. Large. ‘No boyfriends with lavish spending habits—that would be unhealthy and bad for the soul…’
Rose opened her mouth to respond and then shut it. Instead she gave him a wry look. ‘The devil finds work for idle hands, Gabriel.