What had he?
‘Well, obviously neither am I.’ Her voice was grim, humourless. ‘Let’s just say the moment got the better of us, and move past it, shall we?’
He stared at her, surprised and a little discomfited that she was offering so pragmatic an approach, and the one he would have suggested but now oddly resented. Minutes before they’d been twined around each other like…but, no. He wasn’t going to think about that. Mia was right. They needed to move past this—immediately.
‘Yes.’ His voice was tight. ‘Yes, that is exactly what we shall do.’
Mia nodded, still looking grim, and Alessandro felt the need to gain control of the situation; somehow it had slipped entirely out of his hands, and he needed to come to grips with it. He needed to remind himself what kind of man he was, and it most certainly wasn’t one who unzipped a woman’s dress and then ended up having her over a desk in a darkened office.
Those were the actions of a man who had no self-control, no common sense, no sense of containment. They were the actions of a man who allowed lust or any other unruly emotion to control him, and that was not who he was. It couldn’t be.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked stiffly. ‘You’re not…?’ The question nearly brought a blush to his face. He’d never slept with a virgin before. ‘You’re not hurt?’
‘I’m fine,’ Mia said flatly. She reached for her coat and shoved her arms in. ‘I just need to go home.’ She made to leave and Alessandro stayed her with one hand; she flinched under his touch, which both shamed and hurt him.
‘Mia, please. Don’t leave like this.’
Her eyebrows rose. ‘How am I supposed to leave?’
Alessandro didn’t know how to answer, couldn’t even determine what he wanted. For this never to have happened, he supposed, but there was nothing he could do about that. ‘Take the limo,’ he said at last. ‘It will be safer and quicker.’ She stared at him for a moment, her face like a mask, and Alessandro realised how little he was offering. A lift. But he didn’t know what else he could give her.
‘Fine,’ she said, and then she shook off his arm and walked out through the door.
MIA WOKE UP to bright, wintry sunlight streaming through the window of her bedroom, her head fuzzy and full of cotton wool from the three glasses of champagne she’d had the night before, her body aching in all sorts of unexpected places.
For a single second she simply lay there, enjoying the sunshine, and then memory slammed into her, again and again, as the events of the last evening played in her mind in an unwelcome and humiliating reel.
What had she been thinking? During the half-hour ride in Alessandro’s limo the night before, she’d been too dazed to truly consider what had happened or its potential consequences, and so she’d simply blanked her mind, stripping off her clothes and falling into bed as soon as she’d returned home, surrendering to the welcome numbness of sleep, except it hadn’t claimed her.
She’d tucked her knees up to her chest and scrunched her eyes shut tight, trying to block out the memories that insisted on coming anyway, relentless and so awful. So embarrassing, so full of shame and regret, as well as pleasure and wonder.
She could hardly believe that she’d been so heedless, welcoming Alessandro’s kiss, begging him to touch her…and losing her virginity on Henry Dillard’s desk. How could she have let that happen? How could she have let herself be so shameless, so weak? What if this ruined everything?
Now, in the cold light of morning, she let out a choked sound, something between a sob and a horrified laugh, as she considered what she’d done.
Of course, it had been amazing. There was no denying or hiding from that stark truth. She’d been transported to a world of pleasure she’d never even known existed, and yet, despite that, she hated how in thrall she’d been to her own body, as well as to Alessandro’s touch.
He had a hold over her that she both resented and feared, and the result was she’d lost something precious, something that had been hers, in the blazing heat of a single moment…and to a man who most likely didn’t like her and intended to fire her in the foreseeable future.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Stupid and shameful and wrong.
Slowly, still aching, Mia rolled out of bed and headed for the shower, more than ready to wash away the scent of Alessandro from her skin. She turned the water up to as hot as she could stand and let it beat down on her until her skin turned pink and then red.
She knew she needed to get out, get dressed for work, get going. She needed to face Alessandro, even if she dreaded it with every cell of her being. Judging from his reaction last night, he regretted their encounter as much as she did, something which was both a relief and an insult. Still, it was better for them to do their best to move past it, and pretend it had never happened…if they could.
Mia felt as if the memory of Alessandro, the strength of his body, the sureness of his touch, was emblazoned on her brain, branded into her skin. It was going to take a huge act of will even to pretend to forget it. Him. And yet she had to. The alternative was inconceivable.
Quickly Mia stepped out of the shower and dressed in a crisp skirt suit of navy blue with a pale grey blouse. She put her hair in a tight bun, determined to look every inch the efficient PA and not the kind of woman who had sex late at night in an empty office. Because she wasn’t that person. At all.
Since she was eighteen, Mia had been focused on one thing—finding her freedom and forging a career that would give her independence and security. She’d seen how her mother had been miserably beholden to her father throughout their entire marriage, before the release of her death; she’d lived through the awful ups and downs, her father’s sudden, inexplicable rages, his emotional blackmail and silent disapproval, his moods and tempers dictating the unhappy tone of their fractured home, and all the while her mother too scared and unsupported to leave.
Diana James had insisted she loved her husband, even when he’d never shown a reason to deserve that love. Mia had been desperate to escape it herself, as soon as she could. And she had vowed she would never lose her control because of a man—any man—the way her mother had. Yet last night, if just for a few moments, she had lost control, willingly, joyfully…and she was horrified by it.
Resolutely Mia gazed at her pale reflection in the mirror, determined to put last night behind her completely. Hopefully Alessandro would do the same, and she would return to being the useful PA he required…and nothing more.
The office seemed quiet as Mia headed up in the lift, everyone working quietly with their heads down, seeming apprehensive. Alessandro hadn’t started firing people yet, and perhaps if what he’d implied last night was true, he wouldn’t.
But who was the real man? The lover who had shown her a hint of vulnerability in his eyes, or the ruthless tycoon everyone said he was? Who did she want to believe in—and did it matter anyway?
At her desk, Mia let out a little sigh of relief as she looked around and didn’t see Alessandro anywhere. In an ideal world, she wouldn’t see him all day. She could organise
