Her Ruthless Italian Boss. Christina Hollis
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pigeon hunched on next-door’s window ledge, fluffed up against the deluge. It looked sick. Desperate for company, Beth wondered if she ought to try and coax it closer. Before she could try, a knock at her door sent the bird rocketing off into the rain.
The thought of having a conversation with a real person made Beth throw common sense after the bird. Crossing her room in a couple of strides, she opened the door and instantly the smile froze on her face.
It was Luca.
The impulse to throw her arms around his neck and beg to be rescued died as she saw the look in his eyes. It nailed her to the spot. He looked as though he would respond only too quickly, but not in the way she needed. Beth wanted to keep him there, not send him away. She stared at him for what felt like hours. He had changed out of his business suit, but Luca in casual clothes looked equally stunning. Dressed in beautifully cut jeans and a blue open necked shirt, he was glittering with raindrops. They sparkled in his jet-black hair and darkened his trousers to navy, but could not dilute his disapproval. There was a bottle of Bardolino in his left hand and a pizza box in his right, but he lowered them as Beth’s hand went to her hair. Subconsciously, her fingers searched for the honey-blonde strands she always twiddled when she was nervous.
‘H-how in the world did you know where to find me?’ She gasped.
‘Employee records.’ Concern creased his brow. ‘Don’t you know how dangerous it is to open your door without finding out who is calling first, Beth? I might have been anybody.’
For a second Beth allowed herself to think that his concern might mean he still cared, but quickly realised that he was just protecting his investment—doing his job.
‘I heard you skipped lunch. It’s a bad habit, Beth. Accept this as a peace-offering. We shouldn’t have parted on such bad terms this morning, after so long apart.’ His words were meant kindly enough, but his expression didn’t soften.
Beth nodded, and backed into her room. This was the ultimate reversal of fortune, and it hurt.
‘I—I’m sorry about the state of this place, Luca…’
‘Don’t be. I’ve seen worse.’
Both of them silently added the words ‘in Balacha’, but that was not something to be spoken out loud.
‘Ben insisted on booking my accommodation himself, and the agency made some sort of mix-up. Apparently,’ she said, staring at her sandals.
‘They found him a cosy canal-side hotel room, I notice.’
Beth made a nervous, fluttering gesture with her hands. ‘It doesn’t matter. Sit down, Luca.’
The choice was between her apartment’s squashy old armchair, and the edge of her bed. Beth pointed to the chair. Luca remained standing.
‘Your reactions puzzle me, Beth.’ He hesitated over her name, still finding it unusual. ‘It’s almost as though you really have changed since we were together.’
‘I told you so.’
He raised a dark brow. ‘So you are throwing my own taunt back at me, eh?’
She took the pizza from him and set it down on the apartment’s single table. Opening the cutlery drawer, she tried to take out a knife, but recoiled in horror. Without comment, Luca moved in to do it for her. A previous tenant had left everything in the drawer horribly sticky. Luca went over to the small, scratched sink but could find no washing-up liquid. Cleaning the knife as best he could, he rinsed it well under a noisy, intermittent stream of tepid water. Returning it to Beth, he watched her divide up the pizza with the care she always used when she knew he was watching.
He accepted a single slice and as he watched her nibble nervously on her piece commented, ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t have bothered bringing a full-sized one. Knowing you, Beth, you’ll throw the rest away as soon as I’ve disappeared.’
‘I would never do a thing like that now.’ She blushed, remembering all the times she had been flippant about money, dining out and always after something new.
‘Really?’ He raised his eyebrows in a knowing gesture.
‘Really,’ she repeated with feeling.
‘I hope this “new” Beth is still as keen on parties as she always used to be,’ he said. ‘I’ve decided to throw one to introduce Ben to all the people who matter. As his assistant, you’re invited as well, of course. It will be a chance for you to do some socialising, fine dining, and dancing— all the things that mean so much to you.’
So that’s the only reason he’s come to see me, Beth thought, absolutely deflated. When she had first opened the door to find Luca standing there, it had taken all her strength not to weep with relief. Thank goodness she hadn’t. She made the necessary effort and forced herself to smile.
‘So…when is it, exactly?’
‘I haven’t decided yet. I came to consult you first. How much notice does it take to get Ben to the right place at the right time?’
She looked at him scornfully, but he was quick to cut short any smart remark she might have made.
‘It had better be on Friday night, or Saturday. That’s for the benefit of the guests coming from abroad.’
‘How much notice will they need?’
He gazed at her, quizzically. ‘What do you mean?’
‘People will need to check their diaries, and make arrangements.’
He raised his eyebrows, shaking his head in mystification. ‘It’s never bothered them before. Andria rings around. If they’re free, they come. If they’re not, they don’t. Though I can’t remember ever having a refusal.’
No, thought Beth. I’m sure you can’t.
‘As you obviously don’t have any strong objections, I’ll go ahead. This weekend is good for me. I’ll ring Andria now, and she’ll get things going.’
‘You’re off duty, but your assistant is still at work?’ Beth gasped.
Luca was offended. ‘Of course not—what do you think I am?’
I know exactly what you are—whatever you’re doing, you’re bound to be a workaholic, Beth thought. She watched him extract a phone from the pocket of his jeans. They were cut to perfection. Memories of his beautiful body had been haunting her since their first meeting in the executive lounge. Now they struck her low down, with a vengeance. Her temperature began to rise as she saw the fabric stretched tight around the tempting curve of his flank. Luckily, Luca was too busy with his call to notice the effect it was having on her.
He looked over in Beth’s direction and smiled, but she had more sense than to think it was directed at her. It must have been the stream of words chattering from his handset that sparked his amusement. Beth could imagine what poor Andria felt like, being telephoned at home on office business.
She turned away to make sure their call was private but, in a room as small as hers, it was impossible.
‘Ah, yes, you know me too well,’ she heard Luca say. ‘That’s why you’re my assistant, Andria.’ As he spoke he cast his eyes around Beth’s new flat. ‘Andria, I don’t see any signs that the firm has sent Beth a welcome basket—you know the sort of thing—flowers, a few basics like coffee and washing-up liquid, fruit, a guide to local attractions…’
Luca finished his call. Beth turned to watch him put his phone back into his pocket again, although she was careful to keep her expression bland.
‘Andria is the best assistant I have ever had. That girl is a mind-reader.’ His satisfaction was obvious.
‘That isn’t quite as tricky as you might think, Luca. All it would take is for her to sacrifice everything for the sake of your career.’
His smile evaporated. ‘Ah, so you still think you