‘I know what you meant,’ Luca answered tersely. ‘Yes, you can go.’
With relief Hannah fled from the room.
* * *
Luca watched Hannah leave his office as if she had the fires of hell on her heels, and let out a weary groan. This was all much more difficult than he’d thought it would be. Much more tempting. The merest brush of Hannah’s hand against his own had made his body pulse with desire, hardly the distraction he needed during the working day.
They’d both settle down, he told himself. Their attraction, without anything to nurture it, would surely fade. Perhaps he’d take a business trip to the US, check on some of his properties in development there. Give them both a chance to cool off. An opportunity to forget.
Except Luca didn’t think he’d ever forget the feel of Hannah’s slender body yielding to his, or, more worryingly, the way she’d held him when he’d been so angry and defeated, the sweet, heartfelt way she’d comforted him. That was something he definitely needed to forget.
Abruptly Luca rose from his desk to stare out at the bustling city streets. He wasn’t used to craving another person’s company or comfort. He’d lived his life alone, ever since his mother had died, battling his way through boarding school and foster care, and even before then, when she’d been too busy or despairing to care for him.
He’d chosen to lift his chin and ignore the taunts and scorn that had been heaped upon him as a bastard growing up fatherless in a remote Sicilian village. He’d pretended the snubs and jibes of the entitled boys at school had bounced off him. He’d always acted as if he didn’t care and he’d almost convinced himself he didn’t...until he’d come face to face with Andrew Tyson, the man who had rejected him once already. His father.
Letting out a shuddering breath, Luca turned from the window. In a week or so Tyson would seal the property deal, and he’d be the owner of the resorts his father’s legitimate children had refused to take on. He’d have control of the inheritance that would have been his, as firstborn son, if Tyson, the alleged family man, had deigned to marry the woman he’d impregnated.
Then he would finally have his revenge.
In the meantime, he needed to get hold of his rampaging libido and shut Hannah Stewart firmly back in the box where she belonged: as his PA, an employee like any other.
* * *
Hannah took an unaccustomed full hour for lunch, walking the streets of the City, trying to talk herself out of this ridiculous reaction to Luca Moretti. She reminded herself of how she used to be with the man, calm and cool and professional. That was how she needed to be again.
She felt more herself when she’d returned to the office, and thankfully Luca was closeted behind a closed door, taking a conference call. Hannah got on with her day and had just about convinced herself that she had this thing under control.
Then Luca opened the door to his office and heat and memory and longing all surged through her body, an unstoppable force.
‘I’m going home for the day, to pack,’ Luca announced. Hannah kept her gaze glued to her computer screen and willed her hands not to tremble.
‘Pack...?’
‘I’m going to America for a week, to check on some of my properties there.’
‘Would you like me to make travel arrangements?’ Hannah asked.
‘No, I’ve taken care of it myself.’ He paused, and Hannah forced herself to meet his iron gaze. ‘This thing between us, Hannah. It will fade.’
Hannah didn’t know whether to be gratified or embarrassed that he was acknowledging it. Was he actually saying that he felt it too, as much as she did? ‘Of course,’ she managed. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t mean things to be awkward.’
Luca shrugged. ‘It never should have happened. I’m sorry it did.’
Ouch. ‘Of course,’ Hannah said stiffly, trying to keep the hurt from her voice. She shouldn’t care. She really shouldn’t.
‘But,’ he continued, his voice and expression both inflexible, ‘you will tell me if there is a result?’
A result? It took Hannah a second to realise he meant a pregnancy. ‘I told you I would. But I don’t think—’
‘Good.’ For a second she thought she saw regret in his eyes, longing in his face. But no, she was imagining it; he looked as hard and unyielding as ever as he nodded once in farewell and then walked out of the office.
* * *
Hannah spent the week trying to get on with her life. She spring-cleaned her house and bought several new outfits and had her hair and nails done, not for Luca Moretti’s sake, but her own. She took Jamie to the cinema and the park on the weekend, and told herself she was blessed in so many ways, and she didn’t need anything more in her life. Certainly not a man who would only break her heart—again.
At least, she discovered a few days after Luca had left, she wasn’t pregnant. The realisation brought relief that was tinged by a little impractical disappointment. Honestly, what on earth would she have done with another baby? It was hard enough being a single mum to one child.
The day Luca arrived back at work she’d dressed carefully in one of her new outfits, a slim-fitting dress in silvery grey silk with a tailored black blazer. She had her hair in a more glamorous chignon rather than her usual practical ponytail, and she felt polished and confident and strong.
Then Luca walked through the lift doors. Hannah’s heart seemed to stop as her gaze swept over him and she noticed the weariness in his eyes, the lines of strain from nose to mouth. She had a nearly irresistible urge to go to him, offer him comfort as she had once before.
And look where that had ended.
‘Hello,’ she said stiffly, turning back to her computer. ‘Welcome back.’
‘Thank you.’ Luca paused by her desk, and Hannah breathed in the spicy male scent of him. ‘Has anything of note happened while I’ve been away?’
‘No, not particularly.’ She’d kept him abreast by email, and even that had felt like too much contact. ‘The post is on your desk.’
‘Thank you.’ Still he didn’t move away, and Hannah tore her gaze away from her computer to look up at him. His gaze locked on and burned into hers, and she felt as if she could lose herself in the deep brown of his eyes.
‘Luca,’ she whispered, her voice breathy and soft. Luca’s expression hardened.
‘I’ll be in my office.’
* * *
A week away hadn’t changed anything. Luca swivelled in his chair, restless and angry with himself for still responding to Hannah in such a basic and yet overwhelming way. The mere sight of her looking so poised and elegant had made him yearn to sweep her into his arms, pluck the pins from her hair and lose himself in the glories of her mouth.
While in New York he’d tried to distance himself from the memory of her touch by going out with a model he’d once been friendly with, but the elegant, gorgeous woman had left him completely cold. He hadn’t been able to summon the interest even to kiss her, and she’d been quite put out as a result.
Maybe, he mused, he was going about this the wrong way. Maybe instead of forgetting Hannah he needed to get her out of his system. He’d been able to tell, simply from that one small exchange, that she still reacted to him just as powerfully as he did to her. Why not have a fling? They’d work out this inconvenient attraction and then resume their professional relationship. He didn’t want to lose his PA, and he knew Hannah didn’t want to lose her job. Surely they could be sensible about this. Businesslike, even. They’d both agreed that neither of them wanted the risk of a real relationship, so Hannah should surely be amenable to the