Summer Surrender. Sarah Morgan
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can’t just drop my life at a moment’s notice.’
‘You’re worried that one of your clients might get divorced when you’re not looking and that would be bad for publicity?’
‘I don’t care about publicity. I don’t care about winning and losing. I care about people. I care about Ruby. And I’m not coming with you.’
Alessio was astonished by the depth of his disappointment.
Why should it matter to him? It wasn’t as if his bed was going to be empty.
There was no shortage of beautiful, sophisticated women desperate for his attention. Women who wouldn’t waste time fighting him. Why would he be bothered about Lindsay’s refusal?
And then he gave a wry smile, a flash of insight giving him the reason for his reaction.
He hated losing.
He absolutely hated losing, but it had been so long since he’d lost at anything that he hadn’t immediately recognised the feeling. And if there was one thing designed to send his competitive streak into overdrive, it was the concept of losing.
Lindsay Lockheart represented a challenge. And when had a woman ever been a challenge to him?
Aware that his driver was agitated about the time, he applied analytical skills to the problem. ‘Fine. If I hear from her before you do I’ll be sure to tell her that you cared about her. But not enough to do her job in her place. Have a good flight back.’ And with that carefully orchestrated parting shot he strode towards the car, wondering how long it would take.
Three strides? Maybe four?
‘All right.’ Her voice stopped him on two and he smiled to himself as he turned because in the end it had been disappointingly easy.
Women were so predictable.
‘Scusi?’ He pretended to be confused, watching as she walked towards him like someone going to the gallows.
‘Why would you be surprised? You’ve won, Alessio. Isn’t that what you always do? You find your opponent’s weakness and you exploit it.’ Without giving him time to answer, she pushed past him and slid into the back of the car.
And clearly she wasn’t used to getting into the back of a limousine. Accommodating her sudden movement, her skirt slid up to mid-thigh and Alessio’s attention was momentarily diverted. Fabulous legs, he thought absently, his libido acting like a break on his thought processes. Who would have thought that Lindsay Lockheart was hiding a body like that under her sober, serious black skirt? Those long, shapely legs appeared to be encased in sheer stockings with a hint of a sheen and Alessio found himself wishing that her skirt were just slightly shorter …
Then she tugged the skirt down and Alessio started to breathe again.
‘Let me get this straight—’ trying to ignore the vicious ache in his loins, he dragged his gaze away from her slender ankles and leaned an arm on the roof of the car ‘—you’re offering to warm my bed in the Caribbean?’
‘No, I’m not.’ She turned her head and her blue eyes connected with his. ‘You may think you’ve won, but winning doesn’t matter to me. All that matters is protecting Ruby. And if stepping into her shoes protects her job, then fine, I’ll work for you.’ Her tone was cool and collected, but he saw that her pupils were dilated and her breathing was rapid and shallow. Her fingers clutched her bag tightly and Alessio suddenly had a disconcertingly clear image of her naked and squirming on his silk sheets, those same slender fingers curled around a certain part of him.
How much of a nudge would it take to push her from prim to passionate?
He decided to push her a little further out of her comfort zone. ‘My client is recovering from the end of a disastrous marriage. He needs relaxation and legal counsel.’ Was she wearing lipstick? He didn’t think so but there was a tempting sheen to her lips. ‘A relationship counsellor would be about as helpful on this trip as a blizzard at a barbecue.’
‘I’m not accompanying you in my role as relationship counsellor.’ She tucked her bag neatly by her side, but still she didn’t look at him. ‘I worked for a year in a law firm in London when I left college. You can give me a full brief. Whatever it is you expect of Ruby, I’m sure I’ll be able to fulfil it. And I can relax, Alessio, if that’s what’s worrying you.’ But every angle of her body shrieked tension. She looked like someone who was on the verge of snapping in two.
The trip was clearly going to be a nightmare for her. ‘Are you doing this to save your sister’s job or to prove to yourself that your brain is stronger than your body?’
She stilled. ‘I don’t need to prove anything.’
‘So it’s all about your sister.’ But he didn’t believe that for a moment. He sensed that there was much, much more behind her acceptance than a desire to protect her sister’s job. He also sensed that his careless challenge had touched something deep inside her. ‘You think you can make it through a whole week without lecturing me or my client on love and marriage?’
She bit her lip—the same lip he couldn’t stop staring at. ‘Of course.’
‘Or sleeping in my bed?’
‘That will be the easy part.’
Alessio studied her profile thoughtfully. What had promised to be a mundane, uneventful business trip suddenly seemed full of interesting possibilities. ‘What happens when emotions overcome your rational side, Lindsay?’
‘Making decisions based on emotions is always a mistake. I don’t let that happen.’
Alessio’s eyes dropped to the perfect curve of her mouth and drifted down to the slim column of her neck. ‘Are you saying that you’ve never made an impulsive decision based on an emotion?’
‘No.’ Her tone was crisp. ‘And I’m sure that you haven’t, either. Even when you’re in bed with a woman I’m wiling to bet that part of you stays detached. You exercise control over your emotions all the time and you’re much too cynical to allow yourself to be taken for a ride.’
Surprised by her insight, Alessio laughed. ‘You might be right about that. All right, Lindsay Lockheart—’ he reached out a hand and took the passport she held out to him ‘—let’s see how an incurable cynic and a relationship counsellor get on when confined in a small space. I have a feeling that the next week is going to be interesting.’
Private jet. Why did he have to own a private jet?
She’d been hoping for safety in numbers for their flight to the Caribbean, instead of which it was just her and Alessio and a discreet cabin staff who only materialised when something was needed.
Trying not to be overawed by the sumptuous interior of the plane, Lindsay steadily called her way through her list of clients, relieved to have something to do that didn’t involve talking to Alessio Capelli. ‘I know, Alison,’ she soothed as she listened to the latest round of developments in her client’s tempestuous marriage, ‘but do you remember what we talked about last time we met? About selective listening?’ Catching Alessio’s amused gaze, she gritted her teeth. ‘I’ll be back next week and we can talk about it then.’ Lindsay ended the conversation and dialled her next number, determined that he wouldn’t unsettle her, but all too aware of his own conversation.
‘Let her sweat, Jack,’ he drawled, the phone tucked between his cheek and his shoulder as he studied the screen of his laptop. ‘She’ll be lucky to walk away with the staff flat by the time we’ve finished with her.’
Lindsay gritted her teeth, kept her own call as brief as possible and tried to ignore the worsening pain in her head.
When he finally hung up, she glared at him. ‘Don’t you ever feel guilty? That poor woman has probably given the best years of her life bringing up his children and making him a home, while he was off picking