Beyond the bedroom was an exquisite sitting area, with sofas, a concealed plasma television, a drinks cabinet...
It was a home away from home—except Kate felt anything but relaxed as she contemplated the day ahead.
Alessandro had the name of the hotel where George and his wife were holidaying. Somewhere slightly outside the main hub of the city. They would get the whole thing over and done with and then, from there, devote the remainder of the day to arranging meetings with the company he wanted to buy and two others he might or might not want to have a look at.
He had made no appointments ahead of their arrival but she knew that that would not matter. He had such clout that doors would open before he even got round to knocking on them.
‘You look tense,’ were his opening words as she took a seat opposite him in the dining area where they were having breakfast. He indicated the buffet area, which was extensive, and told her that a cup of strong coffee and plenty of food would settle her nerves.
‘I’m not nervous,’ Kate lied. ‘Yes, I’m tense, because what we have to do will be unpleasant, but I’m not nervous.’ Because nervousness was closely related to timidity, and they were not up sides when it came to a job promotion.
At any rate, Alessandro thought wryly, she was doing her utmost to ward off the nerves she claimed not to have by wearing yet another suit and having her hair scraped back into its habitual bun. Just in case he didn’t get the message, her choice of clothes would remind him that she was here to do a job and relaxing wasn’t part of the programme.
He had almost had to drag her down to have dinner with him, and even then she had kept up the professional facade that he was increasingly tempted to shatter.
The glimpses he had had of the real, living, breathing, passionate woman underneath the straitjackets she insisted on wearing 24/7 had whetted his appetite.
Of course it didn’t make sense. He had enough choice in his life when it came to women not ever to make the mistake of hunting one down in his own office building. He also had enough choice to avoid any woman who gave off signals of looking for more than he was prepared to offer, and Kate Watson was definitely one of those women. He liked no-strings-attached, no-demands-made sex. She wanted strings and he was pretty sure she would be demanding. Not for her a few casual words of warning and then full steam ahead.
But he couldn’t get that image of her wearing those shorts and that cropped top out of his head. He couldn’t forget how she looked without make-up, with her hair swinging in a ponytail and those cute little freckles sprinkling her nose.
‘I’m relieved to hear it,’ he said.
Alessandro wondered whether she was aware of the challenge she was posing by wearing those unappealing suits at every opportunity. Maybe he should tell her that all items of clothing that were buttoned to the neck begged to be ripped off. Perhaps he could slip that into the conversation somewhere along the line. Her white, sensible blouse was buttoned to the neck...
‘Are you insisting on taking me with you to dispatch George as some kind of test?’
Alessandro’s eyebrows shot up. ‘You mean to see if you pass out at the ordeal? We’ll be dealing with a common criminal, Kate. I’m not asking you to visit a morgue and identify a body. But, like I said, it’s important to know how to be tough when the occasion demands. I’m surprised that you’re fixating on the stress of this fairly straightforward situation,’ he added with silky assurance, ‘when you brushed your last boyfriend aside because he wouldn’t do as you wanted...’
Without giving her a chance to say anything, and with his eyes firmly pinned to her face, he summoned one of the many hovering waitresses and ordered them both a full breakfast.
‘You’ll need it. If we’re heading up to see Wakeley’s there’s no guarantee that lunch is going to be on the agenda. We might have to grab something on the way. Now, you were about to explain how it is that this situation is bringing you out in a cold sweat when dispatching the potential love of your life didn’t...’
‘I was not about to explain any such thing!’
‘Apologies. I had no idea that it was still such an issue for you...’
‘It’s not an issue for me!’ Kate felt like a swimmer, desperately trying to fight against a current. Why had he ordered breakfast for her? She was fine with fruit and a croissant! Fine with removing herself from his suffocating presence on the pretext of taking her time to choose items from the buffet table.
‘There’s no need to explain why you’d rather not discuss this. I was only making conversation, Kate. No need to panic.’
‘I am not panicking,’ she gritted tightly, and he threw her a kindly smile which implied that he didn’t believe a word she was saying.
‘And why,’ she pressed on, snatching at the coffee and taking a restorative mouthful, ‘do you insist on asking me loads of personal questions? Which have nothing to do with my job?’
‘Like I said, I was only making conversation. If I’d known that you were still sensitive on the topic of your ex-boyfriend then I would never have gone there. Trust me.’
Kate resisted the urge to burst into manic laughter. Trust him? She would rather trust a river seething with hungry piranha.
‘And as to asking you “loads of personal questions”...I like knowing a bit about the people who work for me—especially those higher up the pecking order, in positions of responsibility. Which, I’m sure, is where you will be very soon, given your talents... It helps if I know whether they’re married, involved in a serious relationship, have children... That way I can tailor the needs of the job to accommodate their needs as much as is possible...’
He had never given it any such thought before, but now that he had it sort of made sense. Not that he would be playing by those rules. Ever. Still, never let it be said that he wasn’t a man who didn’t see things from every angle.
Kate allowed her ruffled feathers to be soothed. She had overreacted. Breaking up with her ex was not exactly state-secret fodder. Who cared? Did Alessandro Preda really give a damn whether she had called off a relationship years ago with a man who no longer featured in her life? Wasn’t he telling the truth when he said that he was just making conversation? Polite conversation? The sort of polite conversation that was made every second of every day between people who didn’t know one another all that well?
‘It didn’t work out,’ she told him. ‘Simple as that. And before you tell me that I’m a hypocrite, because I make such a big deal about the importance of taking relationship building seriously...’
‘Relationship building? What’s that?’
Something my mother never did, was the reply that immediately sprang to mind, but she bit it back because that would be perfect proof of just how much she had been influenced by her mother’s behaviour.
In truth, looking back on her relationship with her ex-boyfriend, she could see that it had been built on hope—hope that he might be the one because they got along and because he ticked all the boxes. Like her, he had been studying accountancy. He had been reliable, feet firmly planted on the ground, a solid, dependable sort. He had been just the type of guy who made sense.
‘It’s when two people take the time to really establish the building blocks of a future together.’
‘It sounds riveting. How do they do that?’
Kate lowered her eyes and remained silent.
‘Please don’t tell me you’re going to slip back into I couldn’t possibly say because I’m just your employee mode...’
‘I am just your employee.’
‘I’m giving you permission