The Italian's Christmas Child - Page 16

‘And how could I have done that without your phone number?’ Holly asked stiffly, because she was determined to make no reference to the fact that she had left her phone number with him and that he had decided not to make use of it. Discussing that would be far, far too humiliating.

‘Well, maybe you shouldn’t have run out on me before I got back to the cottage that day.’ Vito smiled suddenly, brilliantly. It almost stopped her heart dead in its tracks as she stared at him. But it had not sat well with Vito that a night he had considered exceptional should have meant so much less to her that she’d walked out without a backward glance. Her reappearance satisfied him. He now felt free to study her with acute appreciation. She was wearing the most ordinary garments: a sweater, a shortish skirt, a jacket and boots, all black and all unremarkable but the glorious hourglass curves he cherished could not be concealed. His dark eyes flamed gold over the swell of her breasts below the wool and the lush curve of her hips before flying up to her full pink mouth, little snub nose and huge blue eyes. Shorn of the schmaltz and the sparkle and in full daylight, Holly was passing the test he had expected her to fail and for the first time in Vito’s life, failure actually tasted sweet. He shifted almost imperceptibly as the hot swell of an erection assailed him and he almost smiled at that as well because his diminished libido had seriously bothered him.

‘How did you find out who I was?’ Vito enquired.

‘Yes, that’s right…you lied. You gave me a false name,’ Holly was prompted to recall as she struggled to fight free of the spell he cast over her just by being in the same room.

‘It wasn’t a false name. I didn’t lie. I was christened Vittore Sorrentino Zaffari,’ he told her, smooth as glass. ‘Sorrentino was my father’s surname.’

That smoothness set Holly’s teeth on edge. ‘You lied,’ she said again. ‘You deliberately misled me. What I don’t understand is why you did that.’

‘You must appreciate that I am very well known in the business world. I prefer to be discreet. You coming here today in such a manner…’ Vito shifted fluid brown fingers in an expressive dismissive gesture. ‘That was indiscreet.’ From his inside pocket he withdrew a business card and presented it to her. ‘My phone number.’

Holly put the card into her jacket pocket because she didn’t know what else to do with it. Indiscreet? Coming to see him in the flesh was indiscreet?

Dark golden eyes fringed by inky black, unfairly long lashes surveyed her and her tummy flipped, her heart rate increasing. ‘Holly…I have the feeling that you don’t understand where I’m going with this but I must be frank. I like to keep my private life private. I certainly do not want it to intrude when I’m at the bank. My working hours are sacrosanct.’

My word, he was literally telling her off for approaching him at his place of work, for coming to see him where other people would see her and notice her. A sense of deep humiliation pierced Holly because it had taken so much courage for her to come and confront him with the news she had. His case was not helped by the reality that she had seen a photo of him and his ex-fiancée, Marzia, posing outside the Zaffari Bank in Florence. Evidently, Marzia had enjoyed such privileges because she was someone he was proud to be seen with in public. Holly just could not get over Vito’s nerve in daring to talk to her like that. Did he really think she was the sort of woman who would let a man talk down to her?

Her blue eyes widened and raked over him but it was pointless to try and put him down that way because she couldn’t see a single flaw in his appearance. His dark grey suit fitted him like a tailored glove, outlining his height, breadth and long, powerful legs. And looking at him inevitably sent shards of mortifying memory flying through her already blitzed brain. She knew what he looked like out of his suit, she knew what he felt like, she also knew how he looked and sounded when he… No, don’t go there, she urged herself and plunged straight into punitive speech because he had to be punished for putting such inappropriate thoughts into her head.

‘I can’t believe you’re talking down to me as if you’re a superior being,’ Holly bit out tightly. ‘Why? Because you’ve got money and a big fancy office? Certainly not because you’ve been shopped for taking drugs and sleeping with hookers!’

There was a flash of bemused surprise in Vito’s brilliant dark eyes before he responded. ‘That was a case of misidentification. I was not the man involved.’

‘Of course you’re going to say that,’ Holly retorted with a roll of her eyes. ‘Of course you’re going to deny it to me but, as I understand it, you never once denied it in public.’

‘I had a good reason for that. I never respond to tabloid journalists and I was protecting my family,’ Vito returned levelly. ‘I assure you…on my honour…that I was not the man involved and that I profoundly disapprove of such activities.’

Holly remained unimpressed. How did sh

e credit that he had honour? How was she supposed to believe him? He had been protecting his family by remaining silent? How did that work?

‘I do believe it would be wiser to take this meeting out of my big fancy office to somewhere more comfortable,’ Vito continued, his smooth diction acidic in tone. ‘I have an apartment in London. My driver will take you and you can relax there until I can join you for lunch.’

Knocked right off balance by that suggestion coming at her out of nowhere, Holly actually found herself thinking about the offer of lunch. Telling him about Angelo in an office setting felt wrong to her as well, and then a little voice in the back of her brain that sounded alarmingly like Pixie told her to wise up and think about the invitation he had made. And at that point the coin finally dropped for Holly and she grasped how Vito had chosen to interpret her sudden reappearance in his life. She wanted to kick herself for not foreseeing that likelihood, but she wanted to kick him even harder for daring to think that he could have a chance with her again. Certainly not with what she now knew about his partying habits!

‘I haven’t come here for another hook-up,’ Holly stated with an embarrassed force that made her voice rise slightly. Behind her mortification lurked a great well of burning resentment.

Did he really think that she was so desperate for sex that she would travel all the way to London for it? How dared he assume that she was that keen, that easy? Well, she certainly hadn’t taught him that she was a big challenge the night they first met, Holly conceded grudgingly. But, my goodness, that one night must have been as good on his terms as he had said it was if he was willing to do it again. Or maybe he was simply a sex addict? Anything was possible. When Holly had snapped back at him about his money and his fancy office and his debauched partying, she had also picked up on his surprise. He had assumed she was a quiet, easy-going little mouse but Holly wasn’t quiet when her temper was roused. And right now her temper was rising like lava in a volcano. The past fourteen months had been very challenging, and working all day after a sleepless night had become her new norm. Having no way of contacting her son’s father, who had handicapped her by giving her a false name, had only added to her stress.

Vito tensed. ‘I didn’t say anything about that. No expectations…’ he murmured silkily, lean brown hands sketching an eloquent arc in the air as if to nullify her suspicions.

‘Of course you have expectations…but, in this case, I’m afraid it’s not going to happen. You had your chance and you blew it!’ Holly snapped back, striving to hang on to her temper.

His brows drew together. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

Holly rolled her eyes, her lush mouth compressed. ‘A timely little reminder that if you had really wanted to see me again I did leave you my phone number.’

‘No, you didn’t,’ Vito insisted.

Holly tensed even more, angry that she had let that reminder fall from her mouth. ‘I left a note thanking you for your hospitality and I printed my phone number at the bottom of it.’

Vito groaned. ‘I didn’t find a note when you left. Where did you leave it?’

‘On the shelf in the fireplace.’ Holly shrugged dismissively, keen to drop the subject.

‘If there was a note, I didn’t see it,’ Vito assured her.

Tags: Lynne Graham Billionaire Romance
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