Unwordly Secretary, Gorgeous Boss. Lee Wilkinson
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Behind her closed lids her eyes were drowned in tears. She had travelled so far to be where she was now, and when she looked back it was nothing short of a miracle that she’d made it.
Before she could regain her composure, a hand covered hers and comfortingly squeezed it. Glancing round in surprise, Laura’s moist gaze locked onto Fabian’s, and she was startled by the apparent concern that blazed back at her. For a man who seemed to regard emotion as a necessary evil at best, and an illogical inconvenience at worst, his actions were almost incomprehensible to her. Managing the faintest of smiles, she slid her hand out from beneath his—even though she secretly longed to keep it there—and reached into her evening purse for a tissue.
All too soon the fabulous glittering concert came to an end. Fabian brought the evening to a close by thanking all the artists for donating their incredible performances, then the guests for their ‘very generous and welcome contributions’ to the hospice fund and finally Laura herself for her hard work and dedication in helping to organise the event in Carmela’s absence—he indicated that she join him on stage and she was truly taken aback when a pretty girl dressed all in white presented her with a huge bouquet of cream roses. As she accepted the unexpected token of thanks Fabian stepped forward and, instead of the customary kiss on both cheeks, stunned her completely—and no doubt everyone in the audience too—by kissing her full on the mouth, deliberately letting his lips linger there for a very long moment. When he broke away his gorgeous blue eyes were twinkling with almost boyish satisfaction and an undeniable hint of mischief in their hypnotic depths. Her senses already swimming with the heady scent of the roses, Laura wondered how she remained standing she was besieged by such intoxicating dizziness. Reaching for her hand, Fabian thanked everyone again and left the stage to applause that was buzzing with frank curiosity as well as appreciation of the night’s events. Laura imagined they were thinking who was she to command such personal attention from their handsome host? As soon as they descended the steps, they were instantly surrounded by a veritable swarm of people, shouting questions as well as congratulations at Fabian. Catching a brief glimpse of the reserve that seemed to slot into automatic place in his otherwise amiable expression as he pressed her close into his side—Laura sensed that all he wanted to do just then was get away from the clamouring crowd and be alone for a few minutes. Knowing that wasn’t going to happen any time soon judging by the melee around them, she too longed to have some private time to herself to assimilate all that had gone on … particularly Fabian’s very public kiss on her lips.
Suddenly, in the midst of the clamouring throng, Aurelia Visconti appeared. The crowd parted like the Red Sea to let her through, so that the diva could reach the man whose attention they all seemed to crave, and all eyes were suddenly on her lush figure, shown off to maximum effect in a shimmering black gown with a plunging neckline. Deliberately not acknowledging Laura in any way, she curled her fingers round Fabian’s arm, as if to claim him for herself, leant towards him and whispered something in his ear.
He turned back apologetically to Laura. ‘I am sorry, but I am going to have to leave you alone for a little while. Do you mind? I will be back soon.’ His glance was rueful, but nonetheless told Laura that whatever he was going to do couldn’t be avoided. A faint swirl of his hypnotic aftershave drifted beneath her nose, and all of a sudden he’d left with Aurelia.
Seconds later the disappointed crowd reluctantly dispersed, leaving Laura standing there clutching her bouquet alone. Helplessly, jealously, her gaze followed the glamorous pair—clearly heading for somewhere more private. The moment the striking soprano steered Fabian out of the marquee altogether Laura felt almost faint from hurt and disappointment.
It wasn’t until the majority of the concert’s audience had left, and the remaining invited guests staying for supper had filed into another lavishly decorated marquee, that Laura saw Fabian again. With no sign of the possessive Aurelia—even though she was one of his guests of honour—Laura wondered what was the reason for the older woman’s absence. Glimpsing a distinct mark of scarlet lipstick at the edge of Fabian’s chiselled jaw, she felt her heartbeat go wild in anguished protest. She’d nursed the ridiculous hope that maybe the two weren’t as close as things indicated, but now she knew different. Clearly the two of them had slipped away to be intimate, and she had been left to talk to Fabian’s guests and reassure them of his imminent return on her own.
Suddenly the magic of the wonderful evening turned to dust, like a handful of brittle autumn leaves clasped in her palm, and as Fabian gestured that she come and sit beside him at the top table her feet obeyed reluctantly. There was suddenly a great impulse in her to escape and mull over her unhappiness in private.
‘You look very beautiful in that dress,’ he said, his accented voice velvety pitched and intimate. But Laura didn’t feel very beautiful. Not any more … Even though the dress Dante and she had finally chosen was a stunning creation of ice-green silk with a halter-necked front high enough to hide her scars and a back that plunged daringly low. All she could focus on was the lipstick mark left by Aurelia.
‘Very sexy. You must keep it and wear it just for me,’ Fabian continued, pinning her to the spot with his hot, hungry gaze.
Thinking of what he might have been doing with another woman just minutes ago, as well as the controversial business proposition that still awaited Laura’s answer, she feverishly grasped at the need for some perspective on the situation before her heightened feelings careened out of control.
‘You know I can’t do that.’ ‘Why not?’
‘Because it’s haute couture, and I’m well aware that it’s probably worth a small fortune!’
‘What high-minded principles you have, Laura! I have never known a woman to refuse a gift of mine yet, and you are not just any woman! You know what I refer to.’
She did—and the thought made her swallow hard.
‘It is still too much, Fabian.’
‘Then you would deny me the pleasure of giving you this gift, and that does not make me feel good.’
Although he was still smiling, his glance had slightly chilled, and Laura wondered how she had seemingly acquired quite the talent for saying the wrong thing to him.
‘I’m sorry … I didn’t mean to sound so ungrateful.’ Her spirits sank even further at his rebuke. ‘It’s an extremely kind gesture … thank you. And I didn’t get a chance to thank you for the massage earlier either.’
Embarrassed heat cascaded spectacularly through her as she realised how that might sound to anyone overhearing their conversation. Though this time Fabian was looking anything but chilly. Leaning even closer towards her—so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath skim across her mouth—he seemed suddenly fascinated by that particular part of her anatomy.
‘Would it surprise you to know that I was jealous of Giuseppe this afternoon? So jealous that I found it extremely hard to concentrate on anything else after I left you.’
‘Fabian … why isn’t Aurelia here?’
Her question, used to deflect the frighteningly intimate nature of his conversation, didn’t seem to particularly perturb him. Those broad shoulders of his, encased in exquisite tailoring, lifted in a nonchalant shrug. ‘She suddenly found that she had another engagement to go to.’
‘I wish—’