D ISCONCERTED , Andreo frowned down at the woman maligning his reputation as a fair employer. His ebony eyes glinted with golden highlights. He stifled an instinctive urge to slap her down so hard verbally that she would never again dare to make such an unjust charge against him. ‘ Dio mio… That’s a loaded accusation to make against a man whom you can know virtually nothing about.’
Pale as death and almost as taken aback as she could see he was by her angry outburst, Pippa dropped her head and muttered, ‘Excuse me…’
As she began to move away Andreo swung round to effectively bar her passage. ‘Don’t rush away,’ he urged.
What the heck had come over her? Pippa was asking herself in consternation. Only a mad woman would hurl an accusation like that about the boss at a work function! That wretched brandy had gone to her foolish head and loosened her tongue. Naturally she was bitter about the reasons why she had been passed over for promotion but, if she had no intention of making a formal complaint, she needed to keep her lips sealed for her own protection. ‘Look, I—’
‘You haven’t even told me your name,’ Andreo incised, noting the slight tremor of the pale slender hand she had braced against the wall.
After that crazy bout of outspokenness, only a suicidal idiot would gave a truthful response to a name, rank and number request that would identify her, Pippa conceded in dismay. Her head was beginning to pound in response to the increasing level of her stress. What was she to tell him? Pippa Plain? Pride brought up her head again as she remembered what her late mother had often called her. ‘It’s Philly…’
‘Philly,’ Andreo sounded out, rolling the syllables huskily together. ‘I like it. Let me buy you a drink and convince you that Venstar’s new owner walks on water even in his spare time—’
‘Is he really that full of himself?’ Pippa interrupted with aghast turquoise eyes.
‘You have a problem with confident men?’ In the act of frowning, Andreo again found himself questioning his own self-image.
‘If by confident you mean arrogant, yes, I have a problem—’
‘Andreo isn’t arrogant. He is secure in himself and assertive,’ Andreo pronounced with approval, ushering her in the direction of the quiet bar by dint of a light hand that only momentarily brushed her spine. ‘But you must tell me why you referred to Andreo D’Alessio as sexist—’
Eager to avoid that controversial subject, Pippa murmured hurriedly, ‘You haven’t even told me your name yet…’
As if he already knew how much he off-balanced her, Andreo sent her a slanting grin.
Her heart hammered so hard and fast that she felt momentarily faint.
‘It’s Andreo, I’m afraid,’ he supplied.
‘Is that like…a common name in Italy?’
‘Very much…every other guy is called Andreo,’ Andreo groaned with silken mockery, surveying her from below the deceptively sleepy fringe of his black lashes, dark golden eyes vibrant with concealed amusement.
Pippa was fascinated, exhilarated and scared all at one and the same time. She had not even noticed him ordering a drink for her and when a waiter offered her a cocktail in a tall, thin glass she accepted it without comment and let the sparkling liquid moisten her throat.
‘Are you married?’ Pippa heard herself ask Andreo with all the effortless cool of a giant weight dropping from the sky. Having heard other women talk, she knew it was the one question that a sensible woman should always ask when she met a man for the first time.
He laughed out loud. ‘You’re so subtle…of course I’m not married. Tell me why you think Andreo D’Alessio is a dinosaur—’
‘I don’t want to talk about that.’
‘I do.’ Andreo stared down at her with the daunting force of will that came as naturally to his domineering nature as the need to breathe.
‘I don’t…’ The tingle in the atmosphere gave Pippa a wicked thrill. She couldn’t take her eyes off him and she felt as if she were locked into a live electric current.
Shimmering dark golden eyes rested on her. ‘I’ll get it out of you,’ Andreo intoned with innate conviction in his own powers of persuasion. ‘Do you always take shameless advantage of the fact that you’re beautiful?’
Pippa spluttered on her drink and glanced up at him, riveted to the spot, her lovely eyes unguarded. ‘Sorry…?’
He was chatting her up. She could hardly believe it. A guy who was a dead ringer for her ultimate fantasy male was flirting with her. And she didn’t know how to handle it, had not a clue how to respond, so she smiled up at him, smiled and smiled and smiled, suddenly terrified that he might lose interest and walk away again. Wasn’t it time she enjoyed what other women took for granted? Wasn’t it time she took account of the reality that she was young and single? The admiration in his appreciative gaze was like a shot of adrenalin in her veins and balm to her wounded ego. Pippa Plain? Who?
That knowing feminine smile that appeared to suggest that she was aware of exactly the effect she was having on his libido tensed every muscle in Andreo’s lean, powerful body. It had been a long time since sexual hunger had hit Andreo with that intensity and it had a mixed effect on him. Rigid with throbbing arousal, he wanted to behave like a caveman and thrust her back against the wall and crush those ripe coral lips under his again and again and again before he dragged her off somewhere much more private. But while his hot-blooded nature revelled in the rare heat of his desire for her, his intellect was in direct opposition. He liked to be in control, he always liked to be one hundred per cent in control.
‘Santo Cielo,’ he murmured thickly.
The ragged edge to his deep voice sent yet another responsive shiver travelling through Pippa. She meshed with scorching dark golden eyes and her mouth ran dry and her knees turned weak as water under her. For the first time in twenty three years she understood what it was like to be really wanted by a guy. And she didn’t know how she understood, how she could possibly recognise the rough edge of desire stamping his lean, hard features and the passionate intensity of his stunning eyes. But although she had only just met him, she was attuned to his hunger with every humming fibre of her physical being. What she was feeling terrified her and excited her in equal parts.
‘Let’s get out of here…’ Andreo breathed, deciding in the space of a moment that he could plead a prior engagement to escape the party.
He extended a hand to her. She could not think straight but still she closed her fingers into his, unable to resist her own need to touch him. She quivered, tormented by the nagging ache she barely comprehended at the very heart of her body, and stared down at their linked hands while she strove to get a grip on herself again.
‘This is crazy,’ she mumbled shakily.
Andreo’s mobile phone sounded up the tune his fourteen-year-old kid brother had fed into it to announce that he and only he was calling. Anybody else calling at that instant would have been ignored but Andreo was always ruefully aware that in the eyes of Marco, who was less than half his own age, he had more the standing of a father than a brother.
Even white teeth gritting, Andreo released Pippa’s hand with an apology for the interruption
