She kept her chin tucked and lifted only her lashes. “I’m just having fun, Raoul.”
“Are you?” She knew him well enough to recognize when he was completely serious, but she was distracted by the way his stern natural handsomeness gave him an air of commanding masculine authority. Her nerve endings came alive in tingling pulses and the rest of her wanted to melt into a puddle of undying adoration.
“Yes,” she croaked, and tried to clear the huskiness from her throat, not quite remembering what they were talking about.
“Because there was a time when I planned to offer you a position on my executive. If you’d rather pursue your career, you can have a job with me and it won’t be nepotism. You’re qualified. Or look for something else that appeals. I would hate trying to navigate the two schedules,” he said with a significant pause to let the downside sink in, “but we could make it work if this isn’t challenging enough for you.”
She warmed, wistful about the reasons her promotion had never come about, but she wasn’t sure she would have taken it even if he had offered it. With her nose wrinkled in self-deprecation, she admitted, “I like working directly with you, being part of the action without having to take the lead. It makes me feel needed. Is that bad?”
“You are needed.” He nodded at their daughter in her bouncy chair. “By both of us. If I took you for granted before she came along, well, rest assured I came to realize what I’d lost and very much appreciate all you do for me now.”
She softened all over. Her smile wouldn’t stay pinned. “Thank you for that.”
He bent to steal a swift kiss that turned into a lingering one, sweet as molasses. As he straightened and gathered his things, he added, “And you should know by now that my fantasies run to sexy secretaries over naughty nannies.”
* * *
She was so in love it was hard to remember he didn’t feel the same.
Working for him, she had been one of many distant moons in his dynamic orbit. Now she was a part of his world in a way she hadn’t expected could happen. Raoul didn’t try to cram her into a corner of his busy life. He made a space for her and Lucy that gave them priority over everything else. When work demanded his time outside the office, he made every effort to include her, keeping her firmly at his side, not the least awkward about the fact she used to be his PA.
Tonight’s cocktail party was different from an award ceremony or the meet and greet he’d had with his new clients last week, though. No one there had known she used to be his employee. Here, the hosts would likely remember her as the girl with the quick-draw tablet and Bluetooth earplug who had brought them coffee and arranged their lunch.
Sirena braced herself when Paolo Donatelli, an international banker, and his wife, Lauren, welcomed them into the luxurious foyer of their Milan penthouse. They were a stunning couple, Paolo casually elegant in a gorgeously Italian way, his wife tall and warmly glowing in the family way.
“Congratulations on your happy news! You took everyone by surprise. Even Paolo,” Lauren said, kissing both Sirena’s cheeks.
“You’re misquoting me, bella,” Paolo said, copying his wife’s affectionate gesture toward Sirena. “I said if you two were involved, no one would know unless Raoul wanted it known. He’s the most discreet man I’ve ever met.”
Sirena blushed, throat going dry as she felt their curiosity for more details on how their marriage and baby had slid under the radar the way they had.
“We surprised ourselves,” Raoul said, drawing her closer as he looked into her eyes. The reassurance in his gaze warmed her, easing her past the discomfiting moment. “And discretion is what you pay for, Paolo,” he added, neatly halting further prying.
“This is true,” the Italian said wryly. “On that note...”
The men disappeared into Paolo’s study. Before Lauren drew Sirena into the gaggle of guests, she clasped her arm. “Did we put you on the spot? I’m sorry. The truth is, I’m thrilled. I don’t always feel a connection to the spouses of Paolo’s associates, but you’ve always been so nice. I’m glad I’ll be seeing more of you.”
“Don’t think I won’t cash in on that,” Sirena said, relaxing as she sensed a genuine offer of friendship. “I’m dying to shop with you. You always look amazing and here I am in Milan, but I don’t speak Italian.”
Lauren’s eyes widened in excitement. “I would love that!”
It was the boost of acceptance she needed. Lauren also helped her find her own style, so Sirena’s confidence grew as she spent more time on Raoul’s arm. Their days were busy and their nights incredible, building tiny bridges of connection she began to trust were sturdy and reliable.
That developing sense of closeness and familiarity brought her into his London office tower one afternoon simply because she was missing him.
“Hello,” she said, using her weight to press the door shut behind her while she took in the familiar sight of him at his massive desk against the wall of windows, London’s skyline behind him.
dpgroup is the way to go..eat this!!
“This is an unexpected pleasure.” He leaned back.
“Lucy had her photo shoot this morning. I wanted to show you the proofs. It could have waited, but since I was only a few blocks away...” She dug the flash drive from her coat pocket as she came around to the side of the desk where the outlets were mounted. “And I wanted to see your face when you see them rather than—oh!”
Tumbled into his lap, she took a breathless second to figure out how she’d wound up here. As if there was any mystery, when her husband was looking at her as though he wanted to eat her alive. An appreciative smirk twitched his mouth while an intriguing tension made his cheekbones taut.
“Where’s Lucy?” He drew the chopsticks from her hair so her waves tumbled free.
Grinning, she toyed with the knot of his tie. “Watching her new nanny try to flirt with your new PA, completely oblivious to the fact she’s barking up the wrongly oriented tree.”
“Lucy or the nanny?” He released the zip on her calf-length boot and slipped his hand inside. His warm touch cupped her calf then circled to fondle her knee.
She purred, losing track of the conversation. Settling into him a little more, she felt the press of his growing arousal. His light caress climbed to the side of her thigh beneath her suede skirt. When she pressed her lips into his throat, she felt him swallow.
“Did you lock the door?” His hand was well under her skirt now, moving insistently beneath the tight, unforgiving cut, delving to the top of her leg.
“A detail-oriented girl like me? What do you think?”
“I think I’m about to lose all ambition for the rest of the day.” He bent his head to kiss her and the phone rang. The heat flaring in his eyes sparked to frustration. “Only you and my mother have that line.”
“I might be pocket-dialing you, if that’s my phone digging into my hip.”
He chuckled, “Smart-ass,” and leaned to tap the button for speakerphone. “Mother?” he prompted.
“Yes, it’s me.”
“Good timing. Sirena is here.” The ironic face he made had her catching back laughter with a hand against her mouth.
They exchanged pleasantries before his mother got to the reason for her call: a misplaced bracelet.
“I know it’s silly to ask if you remember seeing where I left it, but I’ve been up and down through the house and it hasn’t turned up.”
Raoul flashed a glance to Sirena. It was a quick, unexpected slide of a knife between her ribs, barbed with Again?
He recovered quickly, even showed a hint of culpability in the way his gaze wavered and flicked away. “I remember you wearing it to dinner,” he said to his mother.
“Sirena?” she prompted.
Her ears rang with all that had just gone unsaid. Her skin chilled and the heart that had been flowering open shriveled to a poisoned husk. The bleak world she had inhabited for so many months crept toward her like dark clouds closing in from the horizon.
“Same,” she said through a tight throat, all too aware she’d admired the tennis bracelet openly, listening intently to Beatrisa’s story of how touched she’d been to receive it from her son for her sixtieth birthday.
It was all going to start happening again and this time it would hurt even more.
* * *
Raoul was aware of his wife turning to marble as he finished with his mother—which he hurried because Sirena’s growing tension needed to be addressed. She tried several times to climb off his lap, but he held her in place until he’d ended the call.
“Let me up,” she said icily.
“I don’t suspect you of taking that bracelet,” he growled. Doubt might have flickered through his mind, but he was entitled, wasn’t he?
She dug her elbow into the middle of his chest. Her legs determinedly tried to find the floor. “Get your hands off me,” she snarled.
He lifted his grip, angry that she was angry. He didn’t help her rise, just protected his genitals as she scrambled to her feet and zipped her boot. Flushed, with her hair loose and disheveled, she located her purse and would have walked out without another word.