A Pawn in the Playboy's Game

‘I always wondered where he had lived before and how it was he never, ever spoke about it...’

‘Cup of coffee?’

‘Huh?’

‘I’ll make you a cup of coffee before we kick-start the day.’

‘Right. Sure.’ Message received loud and clear. He wasn’t going to take her into his confidence again. Why should he? She was a fling and flings didn’t qualify for that kind of depth. ‘Maybe I could pop out...see your dad...’

‘He’ll be in shortly,’ Alessandro said irritably, spinning on his heel and making for the kitchen. ‘You don’t need to fuss around him like a mother hen, Laura. When he goes to his greenhouse it’s because he needs downtime on his own, not because he wants a queue of people lining up to bring him cups of tea and bracing chats.’

‘You’re so sarcastic,’ she muttered, following him and divesting herself of some of her clothes on the way. By the time she made it to the kitchen door she was down to her fleece. How was it that her casual managed to look so charity shop? The jeans were okay but it was really cold out and she had worn her thermal knee-high socks, pulled up over the skinny jeans, both of which were tucked into her fur-lined boots. She knew she looked a sight. She had bunched her hair up into a woolly hat and now it was released into all its crazy glory.

Was he looking at her and wondering how on earth he had been idiotic enough to have ever found her attractive?

He’d made absolutely no mention of renewing any kind of relationship and that, she told herself, was probably for the best.

So why did she feel sick and hollow inside?

He had his back to her as he made them both a cup of coffee and when he turned around she made sure to school her features into the polite smile of someone whose thoughts were far removed from sex.

‘Come again?’ Alessandro sauntered towards her. Her fleece was an unappealing shade of green but the jeans were nicely tight and even the strange socks halfway up her calves did nothing to detract from the bolt of pure lust that ripped through him.

In his head, he had a perfectly good image of what she looked like underneath the layers. He could recreate the taste of her and the feel of her with no trouble at all.

‘Nothing,’ she muttered, taking the mug from him and sidling across to the table, where she sat, blowing on the hot coffee and keeping her eyes pointedly averted.

‘Tell me what game we’re playing,’ Alessandro drawled, moving to perch on the table right next to where she was sitting so that she was forced to look up at him.

‘Game?’ Laura parroted feebly.

‘Because if it’s the game of playing hard to get, you can scrap it before it begins.’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about!’

‘I’m talking about the polite semi-stranger act you’re busy trying to perfect.’

‘I’m not about to start chasing you, Alessandro.’ Laura abandoned the tactic of pretending to misunderstand what he was saying. ‘And I’m not playing hard to get. I don’t play games!’ She glared at him.

‘So are we going to both make-believe that last night didn’t happen? Shall we enter a conspiracy of silence?’

‘I know what you’re like and I’m not going to be one of those women who gets clingy in the aftermath of sex.’

‘What am I like?’

‘You run away from forming relationships faster than a speeding bullet,’ she told him bluntly. ‘I bet the second a woman starts making plans, you start wondering where the nearest exit is.’

Alessandro laughed, his dark eyes roving over her flushed face appreciatively. ‘I like your sense of humour,’ he murmured in a voice that was the equivalent of oozing, liquid chocolate, the sort of voice that made her knees feel like jelly and turned her brains into instant mush.

‘And I happen to be very good at forming relationships, although, admittedly, they’re not of the lasting kind. But that’s not relevant with us, is it? You know the measure of me, and after your mistake with a married man you’re hardly on the lookout for someone who’s not talking long-term. Did you...?’ A sudden thought flashed through his head, leaving a sour taste in its wake. ‘Did you love the guy?’