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A Pawn in the Playboy's Game

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‘I realise that there’s some sort of physical attraction between us. I’m not going to deny that, but that doesn’t mean that either of us has to succumb to it and, furthermore, it’s insulting to think that you just come here and then feel that you can take what you want, never mind the consequences!’ She lowered her voice to a meaningful hiss. ‘You can’t!’

Alessandro inclined his head to one side and the infuriating man didn’t say anything.

She looked at her wine glass and realised that it was empty. How had that happened? She rarely drank unless she was out and certainly never at this crazy hour of the evening!

‘So you may think you’re some kind of saint who can wash his hands of relationships just because you’ve been kind enough to warn those poor women you date that you’re not in it for longer than a couple of days...’

‘Hmm... Days... Even for me that would be a rapid turnover.’

Laura ignored him. ‘But I’m not one of those women!’

‘I never thought that you were.’

‘Because I don’t happen to be a six-foot-three catwalk model?’ she asked bitterly. She had felt so desirable when he had kissed her...nothing had prepared her for the onslaught of lust that would wipe out all her inhibitions as though they had never existed.

But, then, the guy was a force to be reckoned with when it came to the art of seduction. One look at him would tell you that.

‘Because I’ve never had to employ such restraint with any woman in my life before.’

‘Well, that may be but it certainly doesn’t mean that I’m going to spend the weekend accommodating you!’ She tilted her chin at a stubborn angle and glared at him.

‘I think you’re getting all hot under the collar for no reason,’ Alessandro said mildly.

‘And I disagree!’

‘I wasn’t trying to arrange a convenient time to wage an assault on your maidenly virtue, tempting though that option is...’ He stared off into the distance, as though wrapped up in all sorts of pleasant thoughts, and then shook his head ruefully. ‘I was actually about to say that the weekend might be a good time to start trying to consolidate some of my father’s possessions in preparation for a move, should he agree, of course.’

‘Oh.’

‘Disappointed?’

Laura wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole. No wonder he was sitting there grinning at her! ‘Relieved,’ she snapped.

‘Good! I will talk to my father this evening and who knows...something might well be sorted out before I leave.’

And once sorted, his life would, of course, return to its normal hectic pace within the confines of his own comfort zone in London.

Or...

He gazed at her flushed face thoughtfully.

Maybe not. The last thing he needed was to leave behind unfinished business...

CHAPTER SIX

‘DOWNSIZE? WHAT’S THE point of that? Not one for living in a rabbit hutch!’

Alessandro remained silent. His loose-limbed posture in the chair facing Roberto smacked of utter relaxation. Only the stillness of his body betrayed his awareness of the fact that, as always, nothing was going to be easy when it came to his father.

But, for once, he had converts to his cause. Laura and her grandmother had insisted on sitting in on the meeting with his father in a show of moral support, even though Alessandro had told them that it wouldn’t be necessary.

‘He can be a stubborn old fool,’ Edith had announced, as soon as she had been told of Alessandro’s decision and given it the green light. Not, Alessandro thought, that a green light from anyone was required, but Edith was not a woman any sane person would pick a fight with. ‘Digs his heels in and refuses to budge. Won’t be able to pull that one on me, though! I can be a stubborn old fool as well!’

Alessandro had shrugged and so, later that evening, they had all headed up to the manor house, like gunslingers galloping into town to confront the local bad boy.

‘And don’t...’ Roberto wagged his finger at Edith a little later ‘...you start telling me that you agree with that son of mine!’

‘You put that finger away,’ Edith said in a clipped voice. ‘That son of yours is right and you know it! Who was it who told me not four months ago that he found walking from the kitchen to the bedroom “a bloody chore”? And I’m quoting a certain person here. He’s sitting not a million miles away, being a stubborn old fool, as I knew he would be!’



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