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‘I...’ She stared at him and, as their eyes tangled, she had the strangest sensation that he could see what was going on in her head. ‘How would you know what friends I had or didn’t have? You were only around part of the time. We met occasionally. You didn’t know what I did in my spare time.’

Alessandro sat back as their food was placed in front of them. He was surprised to see that he had eaten his starter although he couldn’t even remember what he had ordered. She could barely meet his eyes and, again, he had the strangest feeling that there was something going on which he couldn’t quite see.

He cursed himself for even being curious. ‘True,’ he concurred. ‘And yet I remember a couple of occasions when kids from your course came up to you. You barely acknowledged them. Once they asked you if you were going to a party and you turned white and got rid of them as soon as you could.’ The memory came from nowhere, as though it had been lurking there, just waiting to be aired.

‘I...I had a husband.’

Alessandro found that he didn’t like thinking about her husband. In fact, the thought of that shaved head, the tattoos, set his teeth on edge.

‘Who would have been the same age as you were. Practically a teenager.’

It struck him that that was one of the things that had drawn him to her, the fact that she hadn’t acted like a typical teenager. She had been old beyond her years in ways he couldn’t quite pin down.

‘I’ve never been into clubs and partying.’

‘Never?’

‘Why the thousand and one questions, Alessandro?’ Her cheeks were bright red. Once upon a time she had actually enjoyed going out. She must have been fourteen or fifteen at the time, unsupervised, hanging out with older kids because most of the kids her age had had some form of parental control.

Schoolwork had been a breeze. She’d never had much need to bury her head in books. Absorbing information had come naturally to her. Oh yes, she had had plenty of time to go to clubs and parties. She frowned and wondered now whether she actually had enjoyed those parties, the dancing, the dim lights...and the confused, angry feeling that she shouldn’t be there, that there should be someone in her life who cared enough to try and stop her.

‘We’re here. Why don’t you just tell me what you want to say?’

‘How does saving your friend’s house sound to you?’

‘Saving her house? What are you talking about?’ Chase barely noticed that the starters had been removed, to be replaced with yet more exquisite food which she couldn’t remember ordering. Despite having said no, her wine glass had been filled, and with a small shrug she sipped some of the cold white wine which tasted delicious. ‘Are you going to build your mall around it?’

‘Somehow I don’t think that people on a quest for designer shoes would feel comfortable having to circumnavigate a shelter for women in need of help, do you?’

Chase thought about that and laughed. It was the first truly genuine laugh he had heard from her since they had met again and, God, how well he remembered the sound of it. Even back then, she hadn’t laughed a lot, and when she had it was the equivalent of the sun coming out from behind a cloud. It was exactly the same now and he looked at her with rampant male appreciation.

‘I know.’ She grinned and leaned towards him confidingly. ‘But wouldn’t it be a great ploy? They’d all feel so guilty that they would contribute bags of money just to clear their conscience before they went to the shop next door to buy the designer shoes! Beth would never have any financial problems in her life again!’

‘It would certainly be a solution of sorts to her financial problems,’ Alessandro concurred.

‘But you don’t mean that, do you?’ Her laughter subsided. She nibbled at the edges of her food and decided not to bother trying to second-guess what he had brought her here for.

‘Not quite what I had in mind but the image was worth it just to hear the sound of your laugh.’

‘Then what?’ She ignored the tingling those words produced inside her. ‘Will it involve getting any lawyers in? I can’t honestly make any far-reaching decisions without reference to my boss.’

‘How will he feel when you tell him that you’d had no option but to sell the place to me?’ Alessandro asked curiously and Chase gave it some thought.

‘A favourable outcome would have been for our client to hang on to the premises. The truth, however, is that our clients don’t earn the firm money. The big money comes from our corporate and international clients. Intellectual property lawyers, patent lawyers, even some family lawyers...they earn the big money. I’m just a little cog subsidised by the big-fee lawyers, and I’m there because Fitzsimmons is a morally ethical law firm that believes in putting back some of what they take.’


Tags: Cathy Williams Billionaire Romance