hotel your former employers have just helped me negotiate for.”
Amy, in spite of herself, began to laugh.
He led her through reception, and a buzz went round the staff and guests. As always, Alessandro was a striking figure in his grey Italian suit. He oozed good looks, style and money. Beside him, in her Levis and T-shirt, her hair caught in a curly ponytail, Amy felt incongruous. She had not dressed for the office, intending only to stay long enough to collect her belongings and then to be gone.
Alessandro pulled her into the lift and pressed the button labeled “Penthouse.”
“I don’t believe this,” grumbled Amy. But standing so close to him, even when they were both feeling so antipathetic, the hairs on her arms rose and every fiber of her being seemed to be aware of him. Her nerves jangled, her breathing was uneven, and a rising sense of panic threatened to engulf her. No, no, she pleaded, silently. Please don’t let him try to seduce me. I hate the man, and now, to make matters worse, he’s married. But a fire had been lit, and she was terrified of being alone with him. The pain she had already suffered at his hands was enough for a lifetime.
After what seemed like an eternity, the lift door opened and he took her across the hallway into a predictably sumptuous apartment.
“Please sit down, Amy. I don’t know about you, but I need a drink.” He poured himself a scotch and soda and raised his eyebrows, gesturing to the drinks cabinet.
“A brandy,” she snapped.
When he brought it to her, he sat opposite her, studying her thoughtfully. “You look amazing. You have filled out a little, but it suits you.”
She didn’t answer and simply twirled the brandy in her glass. If he thought a few compliments and this over-stuffed apartment were going to seduce her, he was going to be disappointed.
“Why did you run away, Amy? I thought you loved me.”
“And I thought you loved me. That was my big mistake. You trampled through my life when I was young and inexperienced and made a fool of me. You tried to dazzle me with all your worldly goods, but you know what, I wasn’t impressed with them—I’m still not. I was impressed with you. You were exciting and fun, and I saw…thought I saw…a man who had humanity and who cared for me. You taught me to make love in a way I had only ever dreamed of, and I was so, so stupid because I really believed it might be for life.” She was on her feet now, screaming at him in a rage.
“So why, in God’s name, did you disappear into thin air?” he demanded.
“Because I would never be your clandestine mistress, Alessandro, the courtesan of a rich Italian kept in a pretty flat in Rome.”
“I never asked you to do that…”
“But that’s what you had in mind for me, wasn’t it? I was never going to be rich enough or influential enough to be a part of your family; just an adoring lover who would satisfy your every whim on a Saturday afternoon while your beautiful wife was playing bridge. That’s why I ran away. That’s why I want you to stay out of our lives.”
“Our lives?”
“Yes!” Amy realized her mistake. “Me and…and my mother, who had such a terrible time watching me suffer after I left. Now, if you will excuse me, I have things to do.”
“No, I won’t excuse you!” He moved swiftly between her and the door and stared into her furious face, his eyes dark and intent.
She knew she had no chance of getting past him, and to her chagrin, tears poured down her face.
“Oh stop it…” she moaned softly to herself. And then to Alessandro, brokenly, she sobbed, “This is your fault! I never cry, but the past few weeks, I’ve almost become dehydrated. Why did you have to come back into my life? Please, please…leave me in peace. I can’t do this again…please!”
Instantly, he moved to her, and she was helpless when he reached out with his thumb and wiped her tears away. His touch and the suddenly soft look in his eyes lit a
Amy, in spite of herself, began to laugh.
He led her through reception, and a buzz went round the staff and guests. As always, Alessandro was a striking figure in his grey Italian suit. He oozed good looks, style and money. Beside him, in her Levis and T-shirt, her hair caught in a curly ponytail, Amy felt incongruous. She had not dressed for the office, intending only to stay long enough to collect her belongings and then to be gone.
Alessandro pulled her into the lift and pressed the button labeled “Penthouse.”
“I don’t believe this,” grumbled Amy. But standing so close to him, even when they were both feeling so antipathetic, the hairs on her arms rose and every fiber of her being seemed to be aware of him. Her nerves jangled, her breathing was uneven, and a rising sense of panic threatened to engulf her. No, no, she pleaded, silently. Please don’t let him try to seduce me. I hate the man, and now, to make matters worse, he’s married. But a fire had been lit, and she was terrified of being alone with him. The pain she had already suffered at his hands was enough for a lifetime.
After what seemed like an eternity, the lift door opened and he took her across the hallway into a predictably sumptuous apartment.
“Please sit down, Amy. I don’t know about you, but I need a drink.” He poured himself a scotch and soda and raised his eyebrows, gesturing to the drinks cabinet.
“A brandy,” she snapped.
When he brought it to her, he sat opposite her, studying her thoughtfully. “You look amazing. You have filled out a little, but it suits you.”
She didn’t answer and simply twirled the brandy in her glass. If he thought a few compliments and this over-stuffed apartment were going to seduce her, he was going to be disappointed.
“Why did you run away, Amy? I thought you loved me.”
“And I thought you loved me. That was my big mistake. You trampled through my life when I was young and inexperienced and made a fool of me. You tried to dazzle me with all your worldly goods, but you know what, I wasn’t impressed with them—I’m still not. I was impressed with you. You were exciting and fun, and I saw…thought I saw…a man who had humanity and who cared for me. You taught me to make love in a way I had only ever dreamed of, and I was so, so stupid because I really believed it might be for life.” She was on her feet now, screaming at him in a rage.
“So why, in God’s name, did you disappear into thin air?” he demanded.
“Because I would never be your clandestine mistress, Alessandro, the courtesan of a rich Italian kept in a pretty flat in Rome.”
“I never asked you to do that…”
“But that’s what you had in mind for me, wasn’t it? I was never going to be rich enough or influential enough to be a part of your family; just an adoring lover who would satisfy your every whim on a Saturday afternoon while your beautiful wife was playing bridge. That’s why I ran away. That’s why I want you to stay out of our lives.”
“Our lives?”
“Yes!” Amy realized her mistake. “Me and…and my mother, who had such a terrible time watching me suffer after I left. Now, if you will excuse me, I have things to do.”
“No, I won’t excuse you!” He moved swiftly between her and the door and stared into her furious face, his eyes dark and intent.
She knew she had no chance of getting past him, and to her chagrin, tears poured down her face.
“Oh stop it…” she moaned softly to herself. And then to Alessandro, brokenly, she sobbed, “This is your fault! I never cry, but the past few weeks, I’ve almost become dehydrated. Why did you have to come back into my life? Please, please…leave me in peace. I can’t do this again…please!”
Instantly, he moved to her, and she was helpless when he reached out with his thumb and wiped her tears away. His touch and the suddenly soft look in his eyes lit a
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