‘Before you go, did you decide what you were going to do with that derelict site in Sydney? The one Papa bought all those years ago?’
‘Everything’s underway. It’s going to be a twenty-storey tower with apartments on the top ten floors, office space on the lower ten, shops on the ground floor, and parking underneath. I signed the contract with the architect last Friday.’
‘That is good, Gino. Papa would be pleased.’
‘How can he be pleased about anything, Mum, when he’s dead?’
‘Gino! How can you say such a wicked thing? Have you no faith? Your papa is watching over us from heaven. He would be very proud of you.’
Gino shook his head. There was no arguing with his mother’s faith. So he didn’t bother.
‘He would be even prouder,’ she added, ‘if you married and carried on the Bortelli name.’
‘I am still only thirty-six, Mum. I have plenty of time for that yet. Look, I have to go.’
‘Will you be coming to dinner next Sunday?’
His mother held a big family get-together on the last Sunday of every month. Gino usually attended. He liked playing with his nieces and nephews. But he hated the thought of being bombarded by questions over why Claudia wasn’t with him.
‘I can’t, Mum. Sorry. I have to go to Sydney to meet up with this architect. He wants to show me some preliminary plans.’
Not true. But his mother wasn’t to know that. Still, he would have to go somewhere. Maybe to the snow? He liked skiing, and there was still some good snow in the ski-fields. He’d tire himself out every day and make sure he fell asleep each night the moment his head hit the pillow.
He hadn’t slept well since returning from Sydney, his mind constantly tormented with what ifs.
What if he hadn’t made that foolish promise to his father?
What if he’d been able to go back for Jordan without feeling lousy?
What if he’d told her the truth about himself before they’d gone up to his hotel room last Friday night?
This last what if was easily answered: he’d been too aroused to delay, or to risk Jordan rejecting him after his explanations.
His need for her had transcended common-sense.
Was he still in love with her? he wondered. Or did he just want to escape with her again, as he had all those years ago?
She’d claimed she’d never forgotten him.
Gino believed her.
How could either of them forget the fantasy life they’d lived together, such an erotically charged existence, full of passion and pleasure? But underneath all the sex had been true affection. He hadn’t just used Jordan, he’d truly cared for her—and she for him.
But they were different people now. She was more cynical and less trusting. And he was…well, he was trapped by his previous deceptions.
And yet he would give anything, do anything, to be with her like that again.
‘You should spend more time with your family, Gino,’ his mother chided.
Gino’s teeth clenched down hard in his jaw, the cords in his neck standing out. ‘I have to go, Mum. Ciao.’
He grimaced as he hung up, the Italian word for goodbye reminding him of the last time he’d heard it. On Jordan’s lips, as she swept out of the hotel room. And out of his life.
His life…
Gino glanced down at the city spread out below him. He was on top of the world so to speak. On top of the world financially as well as professionally. He had more money than he would ever need, a fancy penthouse and a fancy car: a Ferrari, no less.
As for Bortelli Constructions…Although it had already been a well-known building company when he’d taken it over, under his guiding hand the company had gone from strength to strength, gaining an enviable reputation for reliability and quality. His hard work and astute business decisions had made every member of the Bortelli family millionaires several times over, and he himself was close to becoming a billionaire.
But such successes counted for nothing if you weren’t happy.
Jordan’s various accusations and taunts still haunted him.
Perhaps because they were true. Technically, he had lied and cheated. But he wasn’t the coward she thought he was.
He did know what he wanted.
Her.
But what was the point in pursuing her when she would not welcome his attentions?
Gino could see no way of her getting Jordan to spend time with him—short of kidnapping her and imprisoning her in some secluded place with him.
That idea had some appeal as a male fantasy.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t see the adult Jordan being one of those female hostages who would ever feel kindly towards her captor. When she’d stood naked in front of him and told him he’d never see her like that again he’d believed her.
Gino sighed, then headed for the steel cage which would carry him down to the ground again. It was knock-off time in the building trade. Not so for the boss, however, who had to go back to his office in the city and make sure the administrative wheels of Bortelli Constructions were kept turning.
Half an hour later his hard hat had been discarded and he was sitting behind his desk, a strong mug of coffee on his right and a load of correspondence in front of him. The clock on the wall was just ticking over to five when he picked up an envelope marked ‘Personal’, which his secretary hadn’t opened.
Gino winced at the thought that it might be hate-mail from Claudia.
No, he decided as he ripped open the envelope. She wouldn’t write. She’d e-mail or text message him. Girls like Claudia never put pen to paper these days.
Gino found himself staring down at a gold-embossed sheet of paper.
It was an invitation from Stedley & Parkinson.
Mr Frank Jones, the senior partner of the Sydney branch, was inviting Mr Gino Bortelli—and partner—to a new client dinner on the following Saturday evening in their boardroom. The arrival time was seven-thirty, the dress black tie. His RSVP was required by Friday; an e-mail address was provided for his reply.
Gino stared at the invitation for a good twenty seconds without drawing a breath. Then he gulped in some much needed air before letting it out with a long, slow sigh.
Fate, it seemed, had stepped in to give him one last chance with Jordan.
For surely the star of Stedley & Parkinson’s litigation section would have recently gained a new client or two? If so, she would probably be obliged to attend this dinner.
Gino’s
