necessarily what she wanted.
And he got the impression that she was thinking about that conundrum for the first time in her life.
Because he had rammed it down her throat.
On the one hand he had done her a favour. She was so uptight that she would snap in two given a slight breeze. Life was not kind to the seriously uptight. He was certain of that. They were always the ones who ended their lives thinking about all the things they’d strenuously resisted doing.
On the other hand she was visibly upset—and that was hardly a positive way for a boss to encourage his employee to start the day.
‘You haven’t finished your breakfast,’ he told her, indicating her plate.
She smiled, thankful for the change in conversation and the reprieve from her thoughts.
‘I don’t think I’ve ever sat in front of a bigger breakfast.’
‘Bigger is better—that’s the motto, I think. We can stick to the buffet tomorrow.’
‘I didn’t have much appetite anyway,’ Kate admitted. ‘I guess I really am nervous about what today’s going to bring. Normally I eat like a horse. Perhaps we should think about going.’ She dug into her capacious handbag and extracted her tablet. ‘I’ve brought along all the information I have on George, in case you want to sit down with him and go through it.’
Alessandro had no intention of doing any such thing, but he was relieved that she was back to normal—back to her usual efficient self, back to being the woman who matched the uniform of suits she always wore.
Even though those moments just then, when he had seen her vulnerability, had merged into the other moments when he had glimpsed the woman underneath the navy suits...strangely alluring, weirdly appealing...
Impatient with himself, he signalled a waiter in order to sign for the breakfast and flung his linen napkin next to his plate. ‘Right.’ He stood as he signed the bill. ‘Let’s get going.’
It was as though their very personal conversation had never happened. He was all business. Even without the business suit.
‘Shall we get a taxi there? Do you know whether it’s a long drive out of the city centre?’
‘We won’t need a taxi.’ He flicked his cell phone out of his pocket and scrolled though the numbers. ‘I’ve arranged to have my own driver for the duration of our stay here. More reliable and more convenient than trying to find a taxi when we need one.’
‘The limo...?’
‘No.’
They began strolling out to the street and she followed him as he expertly made his way through the grand hotel and the designer shopping centre that circled it.
He looked at her, his eyes creased with amusement. ‘I didn’t think that my conscience could stand the guilt caused by the carbon footprint.’
There he went again, she thought with a little flurry of desperation. Undoing all her plans to ignore him by being...funny. By saying something that made her want to smile, even though half an hour before she had been mentally snarling at him for invading her private life and asking personal questions.
He was also in business mode. She could sense that as they settled into the back of the car—a far more modest affair than the limo, though still sleek and impressive by most people’s standards.
The hotel was forty minutes’ drive away, which made it quite a distance out of the hub of downtown Toronto, and he turned to her and said, with a thoughtful frown, ‘Seems a little odd to head for a hotel in the hills when you’re spending vast sums of money on a city holiday—wouldn’t you agree?’
Kate gave that some thought and nodded. ‘Although some people hate cities.’
‘Then why holiday in one?’
‘His wife might like shopping.’ She grinned. ‘That’s one of those building-block situations I was telling you about. He hates cities and shopping, she loves them—so they go somewhere in between.’ She surprised herself by harking back to a conversation she wanted to forget, but at least it distracted her from the unpleasant task that lay ahead.
‘I’m not sensing an element of compromise here...’
‘Well, the next time it’s her turn to give in and allow him more of what he wants.’
‘For instance...?’
Kate shrugged. ‘He might want to...I don’t know...go fishing, rent a cottage in the Cotswolds and have long walks, head up to Scotland to appreciate the wild, stunning scenery...’
‘My take is that that particular couple aren’t suited. She wants to shop...he wants to half freeze to death in the middle of nowhere to appreciate the scenery... It’ll end in tears. You wait and see...’
Kate laughed. Really laughed.
She felt all her concerns melt away and their eyes met. Her breath caught in her throat because she felt as if it was an intense moment, when something intangible had been shared. Though what, she couldn’t say. A shared sense of humour? A certain way they both had of finding the same thing funny...?
‘Here, it might make a little more sense. You don’t have to travel too far out of the city before you come slap-bang into some remarkable scenery...’
He began giving her a potted history of the place, telling her about its geographical splendours, the thousand and one sights that made it so special.
What the hell had happened just then? he wondered. He had got caught out by a curveball—had had the oddest sensation of stepping onto quicksand, a place where he was no longer in complete control but at the mercy of reactions and responses that went against the grain, against his rigidly imposed rules.
The hotel, when they finally arrived, was a modest building, with a car park in the front, sandwiched between a fast food restaurant and a shop advertising all manner of office supplies.
Kate could see that Alessandro was taken aback at the place George and his wife had chosen to stay for their vacation, but he said nothing as they walked through the glass revolving doors and straight to the reception desk, which was manned by a bored-looking girl, twirling her hair and chatting on her mobile.
Kate wondered whether they had chosen this spot because it offered access to the city but also access to the outlying countryside...pine forests, lakes...beautiful terrain to explore. She didn’t know what George and his wife did for fun, aside from family stuff with their kids and grandkids. Maybe they loved mountaineering, hiking...who knew...?
The blonde twirling her hair instantly hung up and straightened as they approached the desk.
Mr and Mrs Cape... Would she buzz through to them...? Tell Mr Cape that Alessandro Preda was in Reception and wanted to have a word with him...? Tell him that Kate Watson was there as well...?
The blonde shot Kate a covert look that simmered with envy.
‘Mr and Mrs Cape aren’t in.’ She didn’t need to consult the register
