The Cost Of The Forbidden. Carol Marinelli
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‘Anything else?’
‘No, everything was cleared for Allem.’
‘I’ll be there as soon as I can. Tell Allem...’ He thought for a moment. ‘Just tell him what you have to and if he acts up remind him he’s the one who wants to see me.’
He didn’t say goodbye, he simply rang off, and, no, Naomi thought, she wouldn’t miss this part of the job—reorganising his schedule at a moment’s notice and letting people down. At least that was how it felt to her. His clients didn’t seem to mind in the least. That he was unattainable made him all the more desirable. The more elusive he was the more in demand he became.
‘Bloody Sev,’ Naomi grumbled, then sank back on her pillows to enjoy a rare lie-in.
There was no need to rush in now. She could work here for a couple of hours, so she lay back and waited for sunrise and thought about what she was about to do.
Most would say she was mad to give up such an amazing job and all the perks that came with it.
For the past three months Naomi had been telling herself the same.
Yet she was fast learning that location, location didn’t equate to happiness. A designer wardrobe and manicured nails and a fabulous haircut didn’t magically put the world to rights.
On sight she had fallen for Sev.
Hard.
And, like her many predecessors, Naomi knew how futile hoping for anything other than the briefest of flings with him would be.
She should get out before she succumbed, Naomi had decided. She was already conflicted enough, trying to forge some sort of relationship with her father as well as ending things with Andrew.
A temporary fling with Sev she certainly didn’t need, for though it might be temporary for him, an encounter of the sexual kind, Naomi knew, would add a permanent tattoo to her heart.
He wasn’t cold at all. In fact, sometimes it felt as if he had been put on this earth with the sole reason to make her smile.
Which he did.
A lot.
He was inappropriate, yes.
But he was no more inappropriate than her own thoughts.
The chair in his office still felt battery operated.
His voice made her stomach curl.
And as for emotionless...
Whether he was or he wasn’t, he brought out all of her emotions effortlessly.
The morning was arriving and it looked crisp and clear from the warmth of bed. Somebody must have been out with a paintbrush last night for Central Park was a rich palette of burnt reds and oranges and she wondered what it might look like to lie in bed in winter with the bedroom fire lit, looking out at the trees stripped bare and heavy with snow.
She wasn’t going to be here to find out.
And she would tell him so today.
THE VIEW WAS just as impressive on Sev’s part of the planet.
Not that he saw much of it.
He wore dark glasses and the tinted windows of the hotel’s black Mercedes blocked out the midday sun as he called Naomi while being driven to his plane.
Sev looked out briefly at the sights of Rome as he was driven through the busy streets. He’d possibly get there quicker if he jumped on a moped but, though cross with himself for sleeping in and thus being so late for Allem, he wasn’t about to go to such extremes.
Instead he had pulled out his phone and decided that Naomi would just have to fix things.
She wasn’t best pleased with him but a moody PA he did not need so he snapped off the phone, relieved as his car pulled onto the tarmac near his waiting plane. What the hell had possessed him to call out his crew on a Saturday night to fly here when now he couldn’t even remember her name?
It wasn’t as if it was for sex that he’d gone to such extremes. Sex had been taken care of long before they’d boarded.
And it hadn’t been about conversation—he wasn’t particularly fluent in Italian.
Sev wasn’t feeling very good about another reckless night and he certainly didn’t need Reverend Sister Naomi’s silent tsk tsk of disapproval.
Shannon, his flight attendant, greeted him and knew him well enough to wait and ask how he wanted his coffee before making it.
It varied.
‘Long and black,’ Sev said, taking off his jacket. ‘With one sugar.’ He took a seat but by the time he had Sev had already changed his mind and called Shannon back.
‘A strong latte, two sugars.’
Maybe the milk would help his stomach but Sev knew he was, thanks to Naomi, suffering from a rare spasm of guilt.
He liked Allem and his wife and knew that they were in New York primarily to catch up with him as, thanks to the excuse of work commitments, Sev had declined their last two invitations to visit them in Dubai.
It had been Allem who had given him his first break.
Sev’s past should mean he lived on the streets but he never had.
His grades at school had been outstanding and had meant he had received a scholarship to a very good school and then an internship.
It had been cell phones that Sev had been into then and he had come up with the design that Allem had run with.
Yes, Sev’s cynical voice reminded him, that design had meant that Allem had made an absolute fortune out of his idea.
Yet Allem had then bankrolled Sev, allowing him to delve deeply into the cyber world. Now his genius sat in a range of one step behind or two steps ahead of the bad boys. This meant his services were in expensive demand from governments to law enforcement, airlines, royalty and show business. Sev fought his virtual enemies with talent and respect.
It was an endless, relentless game and one, more often than not, he won.
His success wasn’t down to Allem—he owed him nothing, Sev thought, draining his coffee, as Jason, the captain, spoke and told him he was hoping to catch a tail wind and they should arrive just before three.
Shannon came to take his cup and any moment now they’d be on their way.
‘Do you want me to fix lunch after take-off?’ she offered, but Sev shook his head.
‘I don’t want anything to eat, I’m just going to go to bed. Don’t wake me unless the plane is going