Even if he really didn’t want to.
‘It was just a little nip.’ China-blue eyes held his—eyes that were familiar somehow…eyes that were just as blue as Roxanne’s.
Where the hell had that thought come from?
This woman was nothing like Roxanne.
Caitlyn was as blonde as Roxanne was dark, and the woman who stood before him was petite whereas Roxanne was curvaceous, but those eyes…A tiny swallow was the only evidence of his inner turmoil—he was angry with himself that even after all this time the memories, the pain, could still wash over him at the most unexpected of times.
‘It’s not as if I sank my teeth in.’
Lazzaro dragged his mind back to the conversation, grateful to escape his own thoughts, and it was quite hard not to smile at her description, quite hard not to compare it to Malvolio’s—who had roared and ranted so loudly, his hand wrapped in a handkerchief, as if it was about to fall off. He hadn’t known what to expect when he’d called her to his office. He was the last person who would normally deal with one of the hotel’s maids, and when he did they were usually cowering in the chair. But not this one.
She’d declined his offer to sit, and was instead standing at his desk—jangling with nerves, perhaps, but curiously strong. Long blonde hair that was presumably usually neatly tied back was tumbling out of its hair-tie after the incident, her arms were folded across her chest, and the blue eyes were glassy from her trying not to cry. She kept sniffing in the effort not to, and somehow, even if she was tiny, even if she was clearly shaken, somehow she was incredibly together too—her rosebud mouth pursed and defiant as she refused to relent.
‘I need more information.’
‘I really don’t see what all the fuss is about.’
‘One of my staff members has been bitten by another—’
‘Not just any one of your staff members…’
This time he deliberately didn’t blink. He held his expression in absolute check as she interrupted, and, though few usually dared, he let the fact go as Caitlyn Bell got straight to the rather awkward point.
‘Malvolio is, I believe, your brother-in-law.’
He gave a terse nod—a nod that was actually respectful, acknowledging what she had to say even while quickly disregarding it. ‘The fact Malvolio is my brother-in-law has no bearing in this matter—none whatsoever. Now, I want to hear exactly what happened.’
‘As Malvolio said, we were discussing a promotion—he tripped and, like a reflex action, he put out his hands to save himself—’
‘Caitlyn—’ Rather more usually, it was Lazzaro interrupting now, but unusually someone overrode him—someone’s voice got a touch louder and more insistent as Caitlyn spoke over him.
‘And—like a reflex action—I bit him.’ She gave a tight smile. ‘Or rather, I gave him a little nip.’
‘I want the truth.’
‘You just got it.’
‘Caitlyn, you are one of my staff…’
‘Not any more.’ She shook her head. ‘I just resigned.’
‘No.’ He wasn’t having it—he saw just a flash of tears in those stunning blue eyes, and loathed Malvolio for causing them. ‘You do not have to lose your job over this…’
‘I was already leaving. That’s why I was having a discussion with Malvolio in the first place. I’ve got an interview next week—a second interview, actually—for a PR position with the Mancini chain of hotels.’
‘A PR position?’ Lazzaro frowned. Alberto Mancini was both his friend and his rival. Both had hotels all over the world, both had formidable reputations, and both were choosy with their staff—and a chambermaid, no matter how well presented, wouldn’t cut it in PR. ‘You are a chambermaid. How can you have an interview for a PR—?’
‘I’ve been working as a maid while studying.’
‘Studying?’
‘Hospitality and tourism…’
He was only half listening—that jolt of recognition he had experienced when he saw her was explained now. That was where he knew her from. She’d been on the desk—funny that he could remember, but he did—and there had been a wedding…The Danton wedding…that was it…