‘It just feels so...cold and detached. So businesslike.’ She rubbed her lightly perspiring hands along the soft cotton of her jogging pants.
‘You’re looking for flowers and chocolates and courtship?’ His mouth curled into a cynical smile. ‘I believe I fell into that trap once before. I don’t repeat my mistakes twice.’
Chase thought she could detect the rapid beating of her heart as he stared at her broodingly. She felt as though she had one foot raised over the edge of a precipice as she made her mind up as to whether to jump or not. Yet, she knew that that was a fallacy. She was older, wiser and tougher and, if this felt like a business arrangement, then it had to be said that business arrangements came with definite upsides. For starters, she would know all the parameters. She would not be hurt. She would be taking from him just as he would be taking from her and, when they walked away from each other, she would be freed from the strange half-emptiness of regret that had been her companion for the past eight years.
It was a tantalising thought.
As though she had opened a door to a gremlin, she was suddenly released from the constraints of having to fight the attraction that had been gnawing away at her. She imagined...and the images were so vivid that she felt faint.
‘I can’t think of anything I would want less than a courtship,’ she informed him with as much cool detachment as she could muster. Certainly not flowers or chocolate. He had given her those once before. He must have realised, in the aftermath of her dumping him, that those tokens had hit the bin before she had had time to make it back to her flat. Thank goodness she had bluntly refused to accept anything else. At least he would never be able to add ‘gold-digger’ to all the other bitter insults he had heaped on her.
Watching her closely, Alessandro knew that he had won. She was going to be his. And yet, instead of the satisfaction of accomplishment, he was irked by the notion that she didn’t want a courtship because she had already had a courtship from the one guy who had really counted in her life.
Who gave a damn about the ex-husband? The bald fact was that the man was no longer around and the one woman who had eluded him was going to be his. He was not now, and never would be, in competition with a ghost. When he was through with her, he would discard her and she could return to the photo albums she had stashed in a drawer somewhere. He didn’t care. He would have got the one and only thing he wanted from her and for which, essentially, he was prepared to pay a high price, bearing in mind all the money that would need pumping into that shelter if it was to achieve habitable status.
‘Is that because you’ve decided to limit yourself to one and that role was filled by your dearest, departed ex—or because you’ve had so many in the intervening years that you’re sick of them?’
‘I’ve been so busy in the past few years that I haven’t had time for...for any kind of relationship.’ How strange it felt to be sharing this kind of confidential information! Over time, she had become defined by her need for privacy. She knew that most of her colleagues her age thought she was weird. She knew they thought that, with her looks, she should be putting herself out there instead of working all the hours God made before scuttling off to a house to which none of them had ever been invited. She didn’t care, and she had become so accustomed to self-containment that she now looked at Alessandro, wide-eyed, startled by her outburst.
‘You mean...?’ Curiosity kicked in with cursed force.
‘There’s actually nothing out of the ordinary about that. Relationships require time and I haven’t had a lot of that while I’ve been trying to climb up the career ladder.’ Chase knew how she sounded: tough, hard, cold. This wasn’t the person she had ever set out to be but she wasn’t going to apologise for the fact that her life hadn’t been a round of parties, late nights and sex with random men.
‘So ever since your husband died...?’ he encouraged.
Chase tilted her chin defensively. ‘I know how it must sound to someone like you.’
‘Someone like me?’
‘I expect you have an active sexual life. Lots of women. You’re rich, you’re good-looking, you’re self-assured. You wouldn’t have a clue how I could...hold off on relationships for quite a long time.’
‘I managed it eight years ago. With you.’ He shook his head, impatient with himself. And he did, actually, understand. Grief and mourning could do all sorts of things and have all manner of consequences. That said...
‘It’s not healthy,’ he said brusquely.
Chase reddened. ‘I haven’t asked for your opinion,’ she said defensively. ‘And the only reason I’m telling you this is because you might want to have a rethink.’