The Innocent's Emergency Wedding. Natalie Anderson

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smile as she leaned back and looked out of the window as the plane taxied to the end of the runway.

      ‘You’re not scared?’ Alessandro asked, watching her curiously.

      She shook her head, determinedly keeping her attention on the window as they took off. The view of the city was incredible. ‘It’s amazing…’ she breathed.

      After a few minutes she glanced back at Alessandro, absurdly disappointed to see him engrossed in reading something on his tablet. She watched quietly as he swiped through page after page. His frown deepened as he took notes with the pen and notepad he’d balanced skilfully on his knee.

      He might be a playboy, but he also knew how to work. That was what those ‘most eligible bachelor’ articles gushed about—not just his legendary woman-slaying status, but his second-to-none work ethic. He had to be driven to have achieved the success he had in only ten years. How had he managed it? Intelligent, determined, decisive…known for his deals…he was always ahead of everyone else.

      She just didn’t want him to change his mind. So she sat silently, trying to blend into the background the way she did when Brian was in one of his moods. But she felt hot and uncomfortable, ridiculously aware of that bed behind her.

      No doubt Alessandro would bring women on flights with him all the time—hit that mile-high club time after time in complete comfort. The crew certainly hadn’t batted any eyelids when they’d seen her with him. Who knew how many women he’d had in there? It was a den of debauchery.

      ‘You don’t want to lie down and rest for a while?’ He suddenly glanced up and seemed to pick up on the direction of her thoughts. ‘You’ve had a long day of travelling already.’

      ‘No, thanks,’ she answered immediately, her skin burning at the thought. ‘I’m fine.’

      As he held her gaze his expression turned wickedly quizzical. ‘What are you thinking about Katie?’

      ‘Nothing,’ she lied.

      ‘So “nothing” makes you blush like that?’

      Katie pointedly turned away and buried her nose in the nearest magazine.

      Alessandro huffed out a tight breath. He was trying to keep his temper in check, but the reports Dominique had emailed over just before their departure were making it impossible. Brian Fielding might be hyper-controlling over his wife and Katie, but he was very much out of control in his own life. He was one of those jerks who thought he could have it all without doing any work—gambling not only with cards and chance machines, but with get-rich-quick schemes and insecure investments. One of which, ironically, was Zetticci Foods.

      His father’s former company was in worse shape than Alessandro had realised. While Aldo had been a creative genius—an instinctive, outstanding chef, with innate knowledge and a passion for his work—since his death the company’s direction had faltered.

      As CEO, Naomi had clearly gone for a splatter gun approach, throwing out a ton of new products and hoping one would hit the market. None had. She’d sacked every one of the chefs she’d brought on board over the years and then turned to her brother Brian for a cash injection.

      And what Brian had told Katie was correct. They were on the brink of losing White Oaks, Susan’s home and inheritance. According to the brief report, the older woman was now wheelchair-bound and being cared for by family at home. Being cared for by Katie—because Brian was regularly travelling to conferences, active on local government board meetings…

      Alessandro grimaced. Brian was all about the show.

      He glanced up from the report, his gaze unerringly landing on Katie again. When she’d mentioned her sauces earlier she’d lit up enough to nudge his curiosity. He’d got an assistant to track down a sample from that deli and bring it to the airport.

      ‘Are you hungry?’ he asked.

      She sent him a startled look, then swiftly averted her gaze. He watched with mild incredulity as yet another blush washed over her skin.

      ‘Katie,’ he mocked in a low voice, ‘you’re the one reading innuendo into everything I say.’

      He had to admit he found it both amusing and arousing. The fact that she was so aware of him was a kind of balm—because her effect on him wasn’t just arousing, it was irritating.

      ‘It’s the way you look when you say it,’ she grumbled, glancing back to shoot him daggers yet again.

      Hugely entertained, he cocked his head and muttered coyly, ‘Oh, I forgot…it’s my looks…’

      ‘You have no idea what it’s like for us mere mortals,’ she ground out.

      She didn’t think herself attractive? He arched his eyebrows at her and waited.

      ‘We’re invisible,’ she explained when she finally got sick of his silence.

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