‘Absolutely!’ Kate chirped, tentatively feeling one blister with her toe and trying hard not to wince. ‘It’s such a good idea and I’m sure it’ll all work out. I’ll make sure to look up the company and do some research...er...later tonight...’
‘I’ve never been able to resist a woman who hangs onto my every word,’ he drawled. ‘Have you heard a word I’ve been saying for the last ten minutes?’
‘You were talking about the electronics company...’
‘Care to recap? Ah. Thought not. Tell me I’m not such a bore that you lost interest in my conversation after five seconds...?’
‘I’m sorry. I was miles away.’
‘Anywhere in particular?’
Yes, in a world of pain and agony where my only mission was to get hold of some blister plasters and paracetamol.
‘Nope. Just...just thinking about being here in North America... You know, I’ve done next to no travelling? I guess I was just overwhelmed by all the sights and sounds. I got lost filtering them all in my...’
Wine had been brought to them. When had that happened? She gulped down most of her glass in the hope of discovering some restorative or anaesthetic qualities to help her get through the evening without making a complete fool of herself.
‘You must have been abroad, though, at some point in your life...?’
‘Ibiza.’ She rolled her eyes and grimaced. ‘I took my mum.’
‘And?’
‘And it was...fun—although Mum did spend quite a bit of time flirting with the waiters.’ Kate laughed. ‘But, thinking about it, it really was fun. She made me put away every single textbook I had taken with me—I had been studying for exams—and she forced me to repeat that I was there to relax whenever I mentioned tax laws, or corporate finance laws, or profit and loss columns or dividends. She also made me wear my swimsuit without a great big tee shirt over it—even though I told her all about the dangers of too much sun and overexposure.’ She sighed and looked at him. ‘You must think me the last word in dull...’
‘Not dull, no. Just a little...cautious...’
‘And I guess you’ve never been cautious?’
‘None of us is exempt from being careful when it comes to certain situations,’ Alessandro murmured. ‘Now, choose whatever you want from the menu—and don’t be afraid to eat to your heart’s content. The concierge tells me that the chocolate brownie pudding on the menu is famous...’
Lots of very good food, far too much very good wine and Alessandro Preda as a dinner companion—it all went a long way to numbing the pain in her feet, and she only woke up to the reality that her blisters were still there, alive and kicking, as she wriggled her feet into the sandals at the end of the meal.
The walk was less than half an hour, the air was still warm and they weren’t jogging at speed—but every step was agony and it was only when the hotel was in sight that she heard herself give a soft moan, partly out of relief that her ordeal would soon be over, partly because she just couldn’t help herself.
‘What?’ she asked brightly when he stopped and looked at her narrowly.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing. Just taking it easy...enjoying the buzz... It’s very different from London, isn’t it? Not as hectic.’
Alessandro cocked his head to one side, then took his time looking at her, those clever dark eyes travelling the length of her body until they rested on her feet.
‘Hell!’ He stooped to examine her feet and she uttered a little shriek of mortification.
‘Get up!’ she whispered. ‘Please, Alessandro! People are looking at us! They’re going to think...to think that you’re proposing or something!’
‘To your feet?’ He glanced up at her and she kept her face firmly averted. ‘How long have you been in pain?’
‘I’m not in pain. My feet might be a bit sore because I’m not used to wearing heels. Or sandals...’
‘Good God, woman.’
He vaulted upright and then scooped her up in one fluid, easy movement. She squealed and clutched him, shocked rigid as he began striding towards the hotel while people turned to stare and laugh.
‘Put me down!’ she wailed. ‘Everyone’s staring!’
‘You worry too much about what other people think. And I’m not putting you down. I’m only just about hanging on to my temper. Why the hell didn’t you say something earlier?’
‘They were fine at the restaurant!’
It was hard to talk whilst trying to wriggle into some sort of position that wasn’t utterly humiliating. Was her underwear on display for everyone to have a look at? She wriggled frantically, ignoring his commands to keep still, hating him at that moment in time even if he had rescued her from having to hobble for the rest of the way.
‘Please put me down when we get into the hotel. I can manage from there.’
He ignored her and headed straight for the reception desk. In her head she could picture the curved marble counter, manned by banks of cruel, sniggering young girls, as she heard him ask for a comprehensive first-aid kit to be sent to his suite immediately. No, a doctor wouldn’t be required—just get the kit up to his quarters double quick.
She gave up protesting and clung to him, arms around his neck, fingers clasped, eyes squeezed tightly shut—because that way she could kid herself that none of this was happening.
She only opened her eyes when she was gently lowered onto his bed, and then she watched as he even more gently removed the offending sandals and cursed softly under his breath.
‘You’ve probably done your back in,’ was all she could find to say.
‘My back is fine—which is more than I can say for your feet. They’re raw.’
‘I’m not used to wearing heels. Or shoes like this.’
Embarrassment washed over her as he rested her aching, swollen feet on his lap and reached for the first-aid kit, which had already been placed on the bed.
‘You’re right. I should have mentioned earlier that I was developing one or two blisters... But, please, I can take care of this myself.’ It was a last desperate plea that she thought he might ignore—and he did.
His hands were so soothing... Kate closed her eyes and her breathing slowed as he dealt with her blisters, gently cleaning them, putting cool cream on them, and then the special plasters from the kit. Maybe blisters were a common occurrence here? she thought drowsily. Maybe every silly tourist took to the streets in inadequate footwear and returned to the hotel in need of a first-aid kit?
‘I had no idea that you were a doctor along with everything else,’ she murmured, joking because the silence was so intense and somehow so intimate.
‘I had planned on doing medicine, as a matter of fact...’
Her eyes flickered open. She looked at his dark head, bent down, those long brown fingers working quickly and efficiently on sorting out her feet. ‘Really?’
‘Really,’ Alessandro said drily, without glancing in her direction. ‘It was a short-lived ambition.’
‘Why?’
This time he did look at her. Briefly. Dark eyes serious. ‘My feckless parents needed me to set them on the financial straight and narrow.’
Now why had he said that? When he never confided in anyone—least of all a woman? When he knew that confidences encouraged women to think that they could inch their way beyond his barriers...when he knew that a woman in possession of a confidence was a woman who felt she had the upper hand...
But it had been an unsettling day. He had had his preconceived notions smashed, had been forced to re-examine the black-and-white approach to life that had always stood him in good stead. Things were always so much clearer without grey areas. And now this... His body messing with his head in a way it had never done before, controlling him as he sat here with her feet on his thigh...
‘What do you mean?’ Kate asked curiously. ‘I thought...’
‘That I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth?’
‘More golden,’ she admitted haltingly.
‘In a way you’d be right,’ he said thoughtfully, drawing back to look at his handiwork with satisfaction. ‘I am the product of two wealthy families. My parents had more money than they knew what to do with. Unfortunately neither of them possessed the common sense to manage their fortunes properly.’
He smiled wryly and stood up, flexing his muscles, packing away the first-aid kit and then strolling to the window, where he stood for a few seconds gazing down at the street below before turning to her.
‘That’s love for you,’ he said, and walked slowly back towards the bed, then stood at the side, hands shoved into his pockets, his lean, handsome features hard. ‘The soulmates, let’s-put-together-the-relationship-building-blocks kind of love you find so seductive...’
‘What do you mean?’ She looked at him in confusion.
‘I mean...’ He smiled with cool introspection. ‘I have first-hand experience of how a couple of soulmates can encourage each other into lifestyles that are self-obsessed and destructive. My parents married young, and by the time they hit forty they’d managed to squander most of their joint inheritances on...well, frankly, on crap investments and eco-nonsense schemes. They lived with their heads in the clouds. Yes, they were in love—but, personally, I think if there had been a little less love and a little more common sense they might have not spent their lives hurtling from one ridiculous investment to another. Until, of course, it was up to me to bail the pair of them out.’