the shower, her heart beating so quickly she could hear a roaring in her ears. ‘Um…I need the money…’ she said, but instantly regretted it when she saw the way his eyes hardened slightly. ‘I mean, business has been slow over summer, and I don’t want to get in too far over my head…or anything…’ She bit her lip, hating that she sounded so unprofessional. She was usually so brisk and efficient with potential clients, but Alessandro was not just a client.
He was her little son’s father.
Alessandro looked down at her for a lengthy moment. He had spent the last two days thinking about her, wondering what it would be like to have her in his bed again.
This reaction hadn’t really surprised him; after all, he had felt the same way the first time he had met her. He could feel it now, the pulse of sexual attraction crackling in the air that separated them. Seeing her again had brought back a rush of memories of how responsive she had been in his arms. He had never experienced anything like it before or since. He felt his groin tightening even now, thinking about the pleasure her body had given him so uninhibitedly. Her slim, golden sun-kissed limbs had snaked around his, her body rocking and shuddering with the spasms of release, until he had exploded with mind-blowing pleasure time and time again.
He was glad now he hadn’t told her he had fallen in love with her four years ago—certainly not after the way she had tried to deceive him. That would have been the ultimate in humiliation, to have had her know how deeply he had cared for her while she had been cleverly masterminding her plot to hoodwink him.
‘So you have decided to work for me after all, Scarlett?’ he said into the too-long silence.
Scarlett moistened her mouth with her tongue, her stomach feeling as if a large nest of bush ants had been disturbed inside it. ‘Yes… Yes, I have…’
‘Because you need the money.’
She swallowed twice before she could find her voice again. ‘It’s as you said—a big contract. It’s also a very time-consuming one. I have some other clients that I—’
‘Your business partner Roxanne Hartley can see to those while you work for me.’
‘This is too big a job to do single-handedly,’ she said. ‘Roxanne will have to be in on it, as well as one or two other freelance designers.’
‘I will leave you to make the necessary arrangements,’ he said. ‘I am sure you are more than capable of assembling a design team to manage this project.’
‘It’s not just that.’ She took a breath to calm herself and continued. ‘I’m concerned about how things are…between us.’
His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. ‘What do you mean?’
She hoisted her handbag over her shoulder as she ran the palms of her hands down the sides of her skirt. ‘We’re not exactly friends, Alessandro.’
‘We do not need to be friends in order to get down to business, Scarlett.’
‘As long as this remains strictly a business arrangement,’ she said with a pointed glance.
His expression contained a hint of mockery. ‘Are you saying that for my benefit or your own?’
Her eyes flared. ‘What do you mean by that?’
The brown flecks in his eyes darkened to the colour of espresso coffee. ‘You can still feel it, can’t you, Scarlett?’ he said in a low, sexy drawl. ‘You can feel that throbbing tension that fills the air as soon as we are in the same room together. I felt it the other day, and I know you did too.’
‘That’s complete and utter nonsense,’ she said with a little toss of her head. ‘Anyway, I told you, I’m seeing someone.’
‘What is his name?’
Scarlett stared at him, her mind going completely blank. ‘Umm…I’d rather not say.’
‘How long have you been involved with him?’ he asked, still pinning her with his gaze.
Scarlett pursed her mouth and glared at him irritably. ‘I thought I was here to discuss the refurbishment of this building, not the details of my personal life. Now, can we get on with it, please? I have a full list of appointments, and I have to pick up my son at five-thirty.’
He held her gaze for a pulsing moment, but she couldn’t decide what was going on behind the screen of his hazel eyes.
‘Excuse me,’ he said as his mobile started to ring.
Scarlett watched as he looked at the caller ID and frowned as he moved a few metres away. It gave her a chance to observe him while he wasn’t watching, but she couldn’t help wondering who he was talking to in such rapid-fire Italian, his voice sounding edgy and annoyed.
She drank in the sight of him—the long legs, the flat stomach, and the black silky hairs at his wrists where his shirt cuffs were casually rolled up. He looked every inch the successful and powerful man; the world was at his fingertips, and there was nothing he couldn’t do if he put his mind to it.
Except acknowledge his son as his own.
Scarlett hated recalling the night she had told him about her pregnancy. She shrank back from the memories, but they marched right through her paltry blockade as they had done so many times before…
‘Alessandro, I have something to tell you,’ she had said as soon as he had come in from his office in Milan.
He’d placed his briefcase on the floor at his feet and leaned down to kiss her lingeringly on the mouth. ‘Mmm,’ he’d said, lifting his head momentarily. ‘You have been eating chocolate again.’
She’d rolled her lips together and tried to smile, but her stomach had felt like it was unravelling. ‘I know you’re going to be terribly shocked,’ she’d said, capturing her lip with her teeth before adding, ‘I can’t believe it happened myself… I should have been more careful. I know it sounds stupid and naïve but I just didn’t realise how easy it was…’
He’d smiled and tipped up her chin with the pad of his fingertip. ‘Let me guess. You have run out of credit on your mobile phone, no?’
‘No, it’s not that…’ Her stomach had tilted again at his touch.
‘I told you before, cara, money is not an issue with me,’ he’d said, stroking her cheek with his thumb. ‘I was the one who encouraged you to stay on in Milan for a few extra weeks, so it is only fair that I give you an allowance to tide you over.’
‘No, I don’t want to take money from you, Alessandro,’ she’d said. ‘I won’t do it. I can get a job in a café or something if I run out.’
He frowned with disapproval. ‘No, I do not want you working in a hot, crowded café. I like coming home to you fresh and happy to see me.’
‘It’s not about money,’ she said. ‘I have some savings from home I can transfer in any case.’
His thumb stopped moving as he held her gaze. ‘You do not like the thought of being paid to be my lover?’
She frowned at him. ‘Of course
