what the future held, if a part of it did not contain a night with Alessi, then she would die wondering because he was possibly the most beautiful, sensual man to cross her path and, yes, she wanted her time with him, for however long they had.
‘I need to go,’ Alessi said. ‘Thank you for the coffee.’
‘I hope today goes better than expected for you,’ Isla croaked.
‘It won’t,’ Alessi said, ‘but some things have to be faced and dealt with.’ He turned and opened the office door. Her face was on fire, his words playing over and over. Some things had to be dealt with and faced, but not this.
Alessi’s invitation turned fears into pleasure.
DARCIE HAD PROVED to be a brilliant flatmate but as Isla got ready for the ball she was actually relieved to have the place to herself.
Nothing was going to happen between her and Alessi tonight, she told herself, except Isla knew where their kiss could lead.
She’d fought it once after all.
Isla got back from the hairdresser’s at four, where she’d had her thick blonde hair curled and pinned up and had also had her nails done in a neutral shade as she still hadn’t decided what to wear tonight.
Red, Isla thought, taking out her dress and holding it up, yet it was everything she wasn’t—it was bold, confident and sexy, and Alessi could possibly sue her under the Trade Descriptions Act once he got the dress off!
Black.
Safe.
Only it felt far from safe when she put it on. It showed her cleavage, it showed the paleness of her skin and the flush in her cheeks whenever his name came to mind, which it did at regular fifteen-second intervals.
He might not even be there, Isla reminded herself. Except that thought didn’t come as a relief.
She could still feel the heat between them from that morning. Her body, as she dressed for the night, acutely recalled the burn of his gaze and the delicious warning that the next move was hers. There had been no physical contact that morning yet it felt as if there had been.
Isla was shaking as she put on her make-up, shaking with want, with nerves, with the absolute shock of the availability of Alessi should she choose to make a move.
Should she choose?
Isla looked at herself in the mirror and realised she already had.
She wanted Alessi.
A car had been arranged—Charles Delamere didn’t want his daughter arriving in a taxi—and Isla sat in the back, staring ahead. The sights of Melbourne were familiar; the feeling inside wasn’t. There was no Isabel to chat with, no Rupert to deflect male attention.
She stepped into the venue alone.
Her eyes scanned the reception room as she drank champagne and sparkled as she was expected to.
There was no sign of him.
Relief and disappointment mingled as they were called to take their seats.
‘Where’s Manos?’ Charles frowned at the empty seat at the table.
‘I think that he may be stuck at the hospital,’ Isla said. ‘He’s asked me to make a speech on his behalf if he can’t get here.’
‘You are joking?’ Charles snapped. ‘The whole point of this award is to raise NICU’s profile. How are we going to get people signing cheques if the star of the show can’t even be bothered to turn up?’
‘Dad.’ Isla looked at him. ‘He’s with a family—’
‘Isla,’ her father broke in. ‘To be able to take care of the families, sometimes you have to look at the bigger picture. I told him the same when I had lunch with him the other day. Not that he wanted to hear it. He’s an arrogant …’ Charles’s voice trailed off as Alessi approached the table but then he stood and shook Alessi’s hand.
‘Good to see that you finally made it,’ Charles said. ‘I thought I’d clearly outlined how important tonight was.’
‘You did.’ Alessi pushed out a smile but didn’t elaborate or explain the reason for his lateness. He looked like heaven in a tux, but he’d clearly rushed. His hair was damp and he hadn’t shaved, which somehow he got away with. There was a teeny stand-off between the two men and Isla found herself holding her breath, though why she didn’t know.
Alessi took a seat beside her and the fragrance of him, the scent of him, the warmth of him was the reason Isla turned. Greeting the guest, manners, polite conversation had nothing to do with the turn of her head.
‘How was today?’
‘I’ve had better,’ Alessi responded. ‘I’m pretty wrecked. I don’t want to talk about it here.’ He wasn’t in the mood for conversation. It had been a hell of a day and it had depleted him, and he didn’t need Isla’s coolness, neither did he need Charles’s sniping.
‘I’m sorry,’ Isla said, and he glanced over and those two words and their gentle delivery helped.
‘It was peaceful.’ Alessi conceded more information. ‘I’m glad that I stayed.’ He couldn’t think about it right now so he looked more closely at Isla, who was a very nice distraction from dark thoughts, and the night seemed a little brighter.
‘You look amazing.’
‘Thanks.’ Isla smiled. ‘So do you.’
They shared a look for a moment too long. She could have, had there been no one else present, simply reached over and kissed him. It was there, it just was, and Alessi knew it, too, and he confirmed it with words.
‘You have to say sorry first.’
Isla just laughed. There was a thrill in her spine and all the nerves of today, of yesteryear just blew away. It should be just them but the entrée was being placed in front of her.
‘I’m going to have to disappear,’ Alessi said, ‘and write my speech. I didn’t get a chance today.’
‘I’ve already written it,’ Isla said, and handed him a piece of paper. ‘Just lose the first part.’
‘The first part?’
‘“Dr Manos regrets that he’s unable to be here tonight.”’
‘Dr Manos is suddenly very glad that he is.’ Alessi smiled. It was a genuine smile and one that had seemed a long way off when he had left the hospital. Had it not been for this commitment, tonight would have been spent alone. Alessi took each death very personally and had long since found out that a night on the town or casual sex did nothing to fill up the black hole he climbed into when a little life was lost.
His grief
