CHAPTER THREE
LAURA didn’t understand everything the other woman said, but she’d been listening to language tapes and devouring phrase books ever since she’d agreed with Carmela that she would fly out to Tuscany and act as her stand-in. Consequently she was quite capable of getting the gist of what the opera star’s meaning was, even if the look of disdain in her eyes didn’t render the message loud and clear.
All of a sudden she fervently wished that the final course would arrive. Then she could make her excuses and get back to work. In fact, she wondered if their host would protest if she bypassed the dessert altogether and left now? As she found herself glancing towards Fabian, and the possessive diva by his side, his startling blue gaze met and claimed hers for a long, perturbing moment. Her stomach dived into empty space, as though she were plunging off the edge of the earth.
‘Is something the matter, Laura?’ he asked, completely confounding her by using her first name and not the more formal address she’d been becoming used to.
‘No … nothing’s the matter. I was just wondering if you would mind if I didn’t have dessert and went back to work instead? I’m anxious to keep on top of things and I—’
‘It is my express wish that you stay until the end of our lunch!’ Looking surprised, then furious, Fabian glowered formidably. ‘I am not accustomed to my guests suddenly getting up to leave in the middle of a meal! As important as your duties undoubtedly are, they will just have to wait.’
Feeling everyone else’s gaze on her now, as well as their host’s, Laura knew the heat in her face must cover every shade from puce to cerise in one fell swoop. All she had wanted to do was escape a situation where she was struggling to feel at ease, and she genuinely wanted to get on with the job she’d been hired for. But instead she’d unwittingly offended the very man she couldn’t afford to offend. His attention had returned to the dazzling creature by his side, but Fabian’s hard, slightly arrogant jaw clearly confirmed her conclusion. Feeling miserable now, as well as hot, Laura reached for her glass of water and took a long draught of the ice-cold liquid, hoping it would help cool her embarrassment as well as quench her thirst.
Laura had been wished an affectionate farewell by a flushed and happy Carmela, eager to be off on her honeymoon at last, and had spent the rest of the afternoon familiarising herself with her new duties. She’d rung several of the companies that were providing their services on the night of the concert to introduce herself, and sent out a last small batch of invitations to staff at a local hospital. Carmela had deliberately kept a few back for this express purpose.
In the middle of arranging for flowers to be delivered from Fabian to the formidable Aurelia Visconti, at the villa she was staying at until just after the concert, Laura glanced up in surprise as the man himself put his head round the door. Could it be that there was something going on between him and the beautiful opera star? She told herself it was only human to speculate after the way the older woman had so clearly staked her claim on him for most of their lunch—although Carmela had mentioned in passing that her boss was divorced and unattached.
‘How are you getting on with everything?’ he asked.
‘Fine so far.’
‘No problems?’
Breaking off her telephone conversation, with her concentrated gaze Laura conveyed the fact that he had her full attention.
‘Nothing I couldn’t handle.’
‘Good. I just came to tell you that I am going out for a while, and do not expect to be back until later this evening.’
‘Okay.’
‘And tomorrow you will be moving into my office with me.’
‘Oh … is that really necessary? I mean, I’ve just got used to where everything is, and won’t a move take up valuable time away from organising the concert?’
‘It will take up hardly any time at all. You will need me around to ask questions, and sometimes to talk to people and problem-solve. It will be easier for us both for purposes of work if we are in closer proximity. Was there anything you needed to ask me before I go?’
‘Not that I can think of right now.’
Feeling heat throb through her at the realisation that from tomorrow onwards she would be working in the same office as Fabian, Laura willed herself not to appear flustered by the news. The incident at lunch had made her even more wary of the man than she’d been initially, and she wished she could just erase it from her memory. Yet, perversely, she’d also experienced frustration at not having a chance to ask him more about the concert.
Their little exchange about life and planning had prompted her curiosity about how he personally viewed such things. Was the anniversary concert something that was set in stone as far as Fabian and his family were concerned? Did he ever find the responsibility of hosting such an event year in, year out, somewhat daunting—onerous, even?
Still she grappled with the idea of sharing an office with him …
‘Then have a good evening, and enjoy the dinner that Maria is preparing for you,’ he said now, the faintest suggestion of a smile touching his lips. ‘My housekeeper is an exceptional cook, and she makes the best lasagne in Italy! Ciao!’
‘Ciao …’
The next moment he was gone, leaving just a faint impression of sandalwood and spice hovering in the air, and the slam of another door outside somewhere indicated he was on his way out to his car. Was he visiting Aurelia at her villa, perhaps?
Impatient that such an irrelevant consideration should hijack her thoughts, Laura leant back in her chair behind a desk that screamed to be tidied and ran the flat of her palm over her hair. Shaking the soft fall of golden butter-coloured strands loose from its confining band, she sighed at the release of tension that flowed out of her neck and shoulders, as if a small trapped inlet that had been shut off by a boulder could now flow freely.
The delicious lasagne eaten, and most of the other staff and work teams who had inhabited the building and grounds all day now gone—along with the orchestra and the opera company—Laura found the huge gracious house had become blissfully quiet again. But, although relative silence prevailed, inside Laura’s head all she could hear were echoes of the amazing music that her ears had been treated to throughout the day. She realised that despite everything she was feeling happier than she’d been in ages. She’d made contact at last with a friend she’d very much missed, and had been given this marvellous opportunity to work in an environment that was about as idyllic as she could imagine. Surely it was a sign that life in general was improving vastly?
Humming to herself, she inserted the final invitation to an after-concert supper party into its gilt-edged envelope—this was an event that Fabian was throwing for some local dignitaries—and put it with the others, before tackling the chaos on her desk. That accomplished, she went to kneel on the floor to check through the two boxes of glassware that lay there unopened, wincing slightly as a familiar ache throbbed through her thigh. But the heady scent from the climbing wisteria outside the window, perfuming the tranquil night air, immediately distracted her, and the tune that Laura had been contentedly humming turned into a fully-fledged song.
As Fabian walked into the softly lit marble-floored hallway of the villa all the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. The voice he could hear singing was so delightful, so exquisitely pure, that he just stood where he was listening, hardly daring to even breathe. Who was this angel? He had never heard her sing before, of that he was certain. Such a voice one would not soon forget! Perhaps she was a younger, more recently recruited member of the company?
As