equilibrium as her gaze roved over the newly refreshed executive. He wore an expensive-looking sky-blue shirt which looked as soft to touch as his impeccably shaven face. The cool fabric augmented the butterscotch lacquer of his skin and fitted perfectly, showcasing the sharp, muscular ridges of his torso. The black waves of his hair quivered as the aircraft hit a pocket of turbulence. The top layers were long and swept back, stark and threatening. They reminded Rianna of the dark forbidden angel who hid in the shadows of her heart, tormenting her with his hands and mouth...
But those few razor-cut layers of hair were as wild as this corporate beast allowed himself to be. The rest was clipped closely and precisely into the contours of his nape and around his ears. How many desperate sweet nothings had been whispered into those over the years? As she wondered, a jealous little pang shot her straight through the heart. “It’s delicious,” she replied, self-consciously wiping a stray crumb from the corner of her mouth. “I wasn’t quite sure what to have. Everything on the menu looked so good.”
“Breakfast is the best part of having a company jet,” he replied and brushed his large hands over his chest in anticipation. “With expensive restaurant food, I never actually feel I’ve had a proper meal. My mother’s fault. You’ll probably be surprised to learn she’s one hundred percent Welsh and proud of it. She still stuffs me silly whenever I go home as if I need the extra calories to keep out the cold or something. Meatballs, homemade chips, hot little pies, ridiculous.”
He gestured for the steward to come. “But like your green valleys and gallons of rainwater, it’s honest and good in its way. I find a lot of restaurants can be downright pretentious when it comes to normal food, really get above themselves. I don’t like it.”
“Really?” Rianna replied. “Even when they know it’s you?”
“Oh, no,” he replied with a wry smile which sizzled right through her. “Not when it’s Daniel Bracchi , but on the odd occasion I’m not recognised or expected, yes.”
His revelation about being half Welsh left Rianna feeling curiously more at ease. It levelled him, made him seem much less intimidating, and he also seemed to be in a much better mood than the day before. “So you hate the weather, but don’t mind the food? There’s hope for the old country yet then?”
“I never leave it without having at least one curry, no.”
Rianna giggled in spite of herself. “I don’t believe that for one minute.”
“I have to. And a gyro.”
“I really don’t believe you,” Rianna blurted. “You’re trying to get me to admit how common I am by saying I love all those sorts of things, too. Well, I’m not going to. You don’t fool me for one minute!”
“Why would I do that? Neither of us have anything to prove.” He nodded with appreciation as the steward placed his breakfast tray in front of him. “So I’m very well off these days. I’ve got the money, the status and all the trappings, but it wasn’t always like that, whatever stories my dad might have told you. And then there’s you: professional qualifications, work experience and a position of responsibility at such a young age all earned the hard way. You have no need to feel intimidated by me, Rianna. Or feel in the least bit common .”
“Common was probably an unfortunate choice of word,” she replied and then realised that Tomos Bracchi had never really said very much about his son.
“If you want something, you have to grab it with both hands. You only get one shot at life and I intend to make the most of it. So should you.” His eyebrows rose in pleasure as he savoured his first mouthful. “And that’s exactly what I intend to do with this very good breakfast.”
Rianna surreptitiously watched him during the flight as he juggled paperwork, drank gallons of coffee and dealt with endless calls to his phone. He was
But those few razor-cut layers of hair were as wild as this corporate beast allowed himself to be. The rest was clipped closely and precisely into the contours of his nape and around his ears. How many desperate sweet nothings had been whispered into those over the years? As she wondered, a jealous little pang shot her straight through the heart. “It’s delicious,” she replied, self-consciously wiping a stray crumb from the corner of her mouth. “I wasn’t quite sure what to have. Everything on the menu looked so good.”
“Breakfast is the best part of having a company jet,” he replied and brushed his large hands over his chest in anticipation. “With expensive restaurant food, I never actually feel I’ve had a proper meal. My mother’s fault. You’ll probably be surprised to learn she’s one hundred percent Welsh and proud of it. She still stuffs me silly whenever I go home as if I need the extra calories to keep out the cold or something. Meatballs, homemade chips, hot little pies, ridiculous.”
He gestured for the steward to come. “But like your green valleys and gallons of rainwater, it’s honest and good in its way. I find a lot of restaurants can be downright pretentious when it comes to normal food, really get above themselves. I don’t like it.”
“Really?” Rianna replied. “Even when they know it’s you?”
“Oh, no,” he replied with a wry smile which sizzled right through her. “Not when it’s Daniel Bracchi , but on the odd occasion I’m not recognised or expected, yes.”
His revelation about being half Welsh left Rianna feeling curiously more at ease. It levelled him, made him seem much less intimidating, and he also seemed to be in a much better mood than the day before. “So you hate the weather, but don’t mind the food? There’s hope for the old country yet then?”
“I never leave it without having at least one curry, no.”
Rianna giggled in spite of herself. “I don’t believe that for one minute.”
“I have to. And a gyro.”
“I really don’t believe you,” Rianna blurted. “You’re trying to get me to admit how common I am by saying I love all those sorts of things, too. Well, I’m not going to. You don’t fool me for one minute!”
“Why would I do that? Neither of us have anything to prove.” He nodded with appreciation as the steward placed his breakfast tray in front of him. “So I’m very well off these days. I’ve got the money, the status and all the trappings, but it wasn’t always like that, whatever stories my dad might have told you. And then there’s you: professional qualifications, work experience and a position of responsibility at such a young age all earned the hard way. You have no need to feel intimidated by me, Rianna. Or feel in the least bit common .”
“Common was probably an unfortunate choice of word,” she replied and then realised that Tomos Bracchi had never really said very much about his son.
“If you want something, you have to grab it with both hands. You only get one shot at life and I intend to make the most of it. So should you.” His eyebrows rose in pleasure as he savoured his first mouthful. “And that’s exactly what I intend to do with this very good breakfast.”
Rianna surreptitiously watched him during the flight as he juggled paperwork, drank gallons of coffee and dealt with endless calls to his phone. He was
Similar Books
