‘I mean, isn’t it going to get a little boring if you spend all your time in the company of someone who only knows how to agree with you? Face it, it’s hardly as though you don’t have a huge repertoire of very contentious ideas.’ She laughed, ignoring the stunned displeasure on his face.
‘Are you telling me that I am making a mistake with my fiancée?’ Angelo enquired coldly, and Francesca’s laughter faded away.
‘No, of course not! I’m sure Georgina isn’t as submissive as you pretend.’
‘And maybe I have learnt after my experiences with you that I prefer women who do not disrespect me.’
Francesca accepted the inflammatory criticism in mortified silence. Yes, she had broken off their relationship. He had wanted more of her—but he hadn’t proposed, had he? He had saved that for the right woman.
‘Then lucky you. You found someone who fits the bill,’ she replied blandly. She stood up. ‘I’m really tired, Angelo. It’s been nice chatting to you.’ She walked towards the door and waited in the doorway for him, both hands pressed behind her. ‘It’s good that we can both be adults.’ He was standing right in front of her now and she felt her mouth go dry.
‘Isn’t it. You’re trembling again, Francesca. Don’t tell me that I still make you nervous, even though I’ve reassured you that I won’t be making any efforts to discredit you. In fact, if your food lives up to its promise I’ll be sure to recommend you to friends and clients.’
Was she trembling? ‘Thank you. We can always use all the help we can get and word of mouth is the best form of advertising in this business.’ The words were coming out but her brain felt like cotton wool. All she could see was the even rise and fall of his broad chest.
Angelo reached out and feathered his finger along her arm. It was barely a touch but still enough to send her nervous system into immediate meltdown. She pressed herself harder against the doorframe to stop herself from sliding ignominiously to the ground.
‘Have you wondered, Francesca?’ he asked softly.
‘Wondered? Wondered what?’
‘Wondered what it would be like to make love again…’
‘No, I have not! And that’s…that’s…disgusting! You’re engaged to be married, Angelo! I realise that you might be cynical about love and romance but don’t you have any loyalty at all?’
‘There’s no need to get so morally outraged.’ He smiled at her with lazy amusement. ‘I wasn’t proposing that we rip our clothes off and have sex in your hallway.’
Francesca squeaked and Angelo raised his eyebrows. ‘You didn’t think that, did you? As you said, that was then and this is now.’
‘I…I…’ she spluttered.
‘I wouldn’t cheat on my fiancée. Which isn’t to say that my mind has not speculated on what we had. We were very good together in bed, after all…’
‘Your mind…your mind should behave itself, Angelo! And it’s not right that we should be talking about this!’
‘I thought we had done away with the pretending game.’
‘It’s time for you to go.’
‘Meaning that this conversation embarrasses you?’
‘Meaning that this conversation is inappropriate. What would Georgina say if she knew…knew…?’
‘That we once had an affair? I doubt she would mind. Thankfully, she’s not the jealous type.’
‘I would be,’ Francesca muttered.
‘Then you and your boyfriend must have had quite a row after his flirtatious behaviour this evening.’
‘I told you, Jack wasn’t flirting.’
‘Then you’re not very clever at reading body language.’
Not very clever at reading body language? She was reading her body language now and she didn’t like what it was saying. Every fibre of her was pulsing, reacting to him. Her breasts felt tender and her nipples were pushing painfully against her bra. He could still do this to her even though she could feel his three-year-old anger simmering just beneath the surface.
‘And you weren’t jealous, Angelo? I don’t believe that! Even if you tell me that you don’t believe in love and romance, you forget that I know you! You used to question every male model I had to do a shoot with!’