Not looking at her, but still seeing her in his head, he thought she looked exactly as she had all those years ago. Curly blonde hair, big blue eyes, full mouth that always looked on the verge of laughing. He had had no choice but to follow her.
‘Arrogance isn’t a very nice trait.’
‘Who’s being arrogant? I’m being realistic. And nice isn’t a trait that gets anyone very far in the business world. What are you doing in London, anyway?’
‘Oh, I forgot. I was supposed to be a little country girl who was destined to stay in the country.’
‘You’re bitter.’
‘Can you blame me?’
‘I did what was necessary. For both of us. In life, we all do.’
His casual dismissal of her feelings was as hurtful as if he had taken a knife and twisted it into her. ‘So…you live in London? Have you made a name for yourself? I know that was top of your list of things to do. Oh, along with making lots of money.’
‘Yes, to your first question—and as far as making money, let’s just say that I’m not living hand-to-mouth.’
‘You mean, you’re rich?’
‘Filthy rich,’ he agreed easily.
‘You must feel very pleased with yourself that your plan worked out, Alessandro.’ And the very suitable lawyer with her posh voice was obviously part two of his plan. He had dumped all handicaps and moved on, with the same relentless focus that she had seen in him years ago. ‘And how did you meet…Dominic’s mother?’ she asked, twisting the knife herself now.
‘Work,’ Alessandro said abruptly.
‘She tells me that she’s a corporate lawyer.’
‘The top of her field.’
‘Guess she ticks all the boxes, then.’ Megan thought of all the boxes she had failed to tick—but wasn’t it stupid to still be bitter after all this time? He had moved on with his life and so, really, had she. Of course, he was getting married, which rated a lot higher on the Moving On With Life scale than having had a couple of boyfriends, neither of whom had lasted more than seven months, but she wasn’t going to dwell on that.
‘All the boxes,’ Alessandro agreed smoothly.
‘You’ve even managed to land yourself a ready-made family!’
‘Dominic has his own father. I’m not required to play happy families with my fiancée’s offspring.’ In actual fact, Alessandro had met Dominic all of three times, even though he had now been seeing Victoria for six months. Their schedules were both ridiculously packed, and meetings had to be carefully orchestrated—usually dinner somewhere, or the theatre, or supper at his Kensington place. With his own personal chef, eating in was as convenient as dining out. Family outings, therefore, had not been on the agenda—something for which Alessandro was somewhat relieved.
‘Charming,’ Megan said brightly. ‘I always thought that when you married someone you hitched up to all their baggage, including any offspring from a previous marriage. Crazy old me.’
‘I don’t remember you being sarcastic.’
‘We’re both older.’ She shrugged and gave him the final directions to her house, which was only a few streets away. ‘We’ve both changed. I don’t remember you as being cold and arrogant.’ Not that that didn’t work for her. It did, because she disliked this new, rich Alessandro, with his perfect life and his ruthless face. ‘You can drop me off here. It’s been great catching up, and thanks for the lift.’
About to open the car door, she felt his hand circle her wrist. It was like being zapped by a powerful bolt of electricity.
‘But we haven’t finished catching up.’ He killed the engine, but remained sitting in the dark car. ‘You still have to tell me about yourself.’
Megan looked at him. ‘Do you mind releasing me?’
‘Why don’t you invite me in for a cup of coffee?’
‘I share a house. My housemate will be there.’
‘Housemate?’
‘Charlotte. Do you remember her, Alessandro? Or have you wiped her out of your memory bank along with the rest of your past?’
‘Of course I remember her,’ Alessandro said irritably. Hell, here he was, being perfectly nice, perfectly interested, and what was he getting? She’d used to be so damned compliant, always smiling, always laughing, always keen to hear what he had to say, no sharp edges. ‘And I have a very vivid recollection of my past. I just have no wish to revisit it.’
He had released her, but her whole body was still tingling from that brief physical contact.
‘You can come in for a cup of coffee,’ she told him. ‘But I don’t want you hanging around. You might think that it’s all jolly good fun, taking a trip down memory lane, but—speaking as the person you dumped—I have zero interest in reliving old times.’