A Pawn in the Playboy's Game

‘Shall we continue this fascinating conversation over a very early glass of wine?’ He reached across to open the car door on her side and his forearm brushed against her breast. He felt her flinch back and half smiled, even though he was still playing around with the annoying question she had posed.

Aside from the gruelling demands of his job, what did he care about? And was not caring a strength or a weakness? Irritated by this sudden bout of introspection, he swept it aside and levered his big body out of the car.

Enthusiastic to be in his company she most certainly was not. Tales of big, bad wolves sprang to mind, with him in the starring role of the big, bad wolf.

Suddenly, it didn’t seem as amusing to tease her as it had done minutes before.

Hell, she really cared about what sort of reputation she would get from just being seen with him! They’d done nothing and it was still bugging her.

He toyed idly with the idea of telling her that it was better to be hung for a sheep than a lamb. If the entire village had nothing better to do than twitch their net curtains and speculate, then why not give them something to speculate about?

‘You’re not trying to run away from an awkward conversation, are you, Alessandro?’ She fell into a brisk walk to keep pace with his longer strides.

Wherever he had come from, it hadn’t been from sitting behind a desk. He must have changed in his luxurious penthouse apartment before heading up. He oozed casual sex appeal in jeans and a jumper over which he was wearing a mega-expensive trench coat. When it came to practicality in cold Scottish weather, it scored a zero, but in terms of looking indecently good, it was a ten with room to spare.

‘I’ve never run away from anything in my life.’ He held the door open and she ducked under his arm. ‘And definitely not from idle, wagging tongues, but if you prefer, I’ll make sure I keep a healthy distance. What would you like to drink?’

Laura breathed a sigh of relief that the pub was relatively empty and as it wasn’t in the village there was less chance of her being recognised, although wasn’t Alessandro right? Why should she care? She had cared so much about what had happened with Colin that she had packed her job in without thinking of the repercussions. She could have taken some time off, genuinely because her grandmother had needed her, and then returned to her job, not caring that she might bump into Colin, because he was a bastard so why should she? Not caring if some of her colleagues might have suspected what had been going on, because they hadn’t been her close friends so their opinion mattered but within reason.

She could have remained in London because... Living here was fine but there were times when she did feel as though time had been frozen and she wasn’t moving forward. She could have quit her job and gone into teaching, but in London...

No. She did not want to start thinking of what-ifs and if-onlys!

‘A cup of tea would be nice.’

‘Tea? It’s almost five-fifteen. We can have a glass of wine. I won’t tell if you don’t...’

She smiled nervously at him but before she could work out a suitable negative response he was heading towards the bar, where the young girl serving behind the counter dropped what she’d been doing and flew over to take his order.

However cool and detached he was with his father, and however forbidding he could be when he chose to, he could certainly pull the charm out when it suited him, Laura thought wryly. The poor girl could hardly pour the wine into the glasses and she was beetroot red.

‘So there’s a reason I decided to come up here early and pay you an unexpected visit.’ He angled his chair away from her so that he could stretch out his long legs.

His voice was brisk and businesslike. He was keeping a healthy distance between them. She could have been at an informal job interview! Perfect, she thought with a twinge of treacherous disappointment, because his flirting was stupidly addictive.

‘Aside, that is, from wanting to see where you work...’ He grinned and then steepled his fingers to his lips. ‘But starting with Edith...’

‘Are you going to tell me that you think she’s after your father for his pot of gold?’ Laura bristled. She wondered whether she would stop being so attracted to him if she could somehow maintain a state of permanent low-level anger. If she was angry with him, then she couldn’t be attracted to him, could she?