‘I know you don’t approve of Jack’s lifestyle, Angelo, but he’s happy and I have to say most of his women do remain friends with him.’
‘That’s by the by,’ Angelo dismissed. ‘Isn’t it about time he grew up and stopped depending on you for advice? If you want my opinion, the relationship you have with him is entirely unhealthy. How is he ever going to have the strength to do anything on his own if he knows that you’ll always be there, picking up the pieces and dusting him down?’ He refrained from voicing his primary concern, which was that Jack might have far too much influence over what she thought for her own good.
Francesca was bewildered. ‘I’m not always around picking up the pieces,’ she refuted hotly. ‘Jack confides in me as a friend—’
‘And offers advice to you as a friend as well, I assume? A little word here, a little insinuation there? Has Jack been saying anything to you that would make you dissatisfied with what we have? I can feel your mood, Francesca. Has he been spinning you tales of what you should expect out of this? Maybe steering you towards something like commitment? Because, if that’s the case, then I can tell you straight away that it’s not going to work. What we have is sex and there’s no point spoiling a perfectly good situation by entertaining thoughts that it might lead anywhere.’
Francesca was winded by the onslaught and barely had time to recover before he was continuing, voice hard. ‘There’s no mileage in thinking that I will end up the fool that I was three years ago, because I won’t.’ They had reached his place and she followed in a daze as he slipped his hand into his trouser pocket to withdraw his keys so that he could unlock his front door.
He flicked on the light in the hallway and, without looking at her, strode into the kitchen so that he could pour himself a glass of something stiff and strong.
‘Oh, commitment is the furthest thing from my mind.’ Francesca couldn’t stop a note of bitterness from entering her voice. ‘Anyway, Jack would never preach to anyone about commitment. He develops strong allergic reactions just at the sound of the word.’
‘So what’s bugging you?’
Francesca recognised the disgruntlement in his voice and told herself that she had no one to blame. It was her own damn fault. She had made a conscious and adult decision to take what she could get while she could, knowing full well that it was an ill-conceived decision, but allowing her heart to rule supreme over her head. Every choice had a price and the selfish ones carried the highest stakes. She wouldn’t think about that. Not just yet. She went up behind him and slipped her arms around his waist, feeling some of the tension seep out of his body.
‘Can’t a girl have an off moment?’ She rested her head on his shoulder and then stood on tiptoe so that she could kiss the back of his neck.
Angelo laughed and turned around. He pulled her in to him and smiled. ‘When she’s in my company? How is it possible to have an off moment when in the company of Angelo Falcone?’
And now his tension had completely evaporated, like rain on a hot summer’s day. The power of physical contact. At least as far as he was concerned, it made a nonsense of words. He didn’t want to hear hesitancy or doubt in her voice. He wanted her to be upbeat, cheerful and in a state of constant excitement. That had been the bargain.
‘You’re right. It’s impossible. After all, isn’t Angelo Falcone the most charismatic man in the universe? The most intelligent? The sexiest?’
‘A cynic might think that you’re being sarcastic but thankfully I’m no cynic. At least, not at the moment.’ He kissed her, a light, teasing kiss that evolved into a hungry demand, and felt her body weaken against him.
‘Shall we continue this in my bedroom?’ he asked softly, breaking off to tuck a few strands of hair behind her ears.
‘A bed might be more comfortable than the kitchen floor,’ Francesca agreed.
They made it up to the bedroom in double speed. By now she was as familiar with his house as she was with her own, although the familiarity was only skin deep. She knew the format of its layout but since they rarely did anything normal inside it, like flop around with cups of coffee or watch television or even sit in some of the chairs with a good book or a newspaper on a Sunday morning, it still had the feel of a very nice, very comfortable hotel. The most intimate thing she did there, aside from make love, was have a shower.