Lynne Graham's Brides of L'Amour Bundle

Fully dressed and having paused only to print her address on the writing pad by the bed, she entered the elegant reception room next door and came to a startled halt. An exquisite arrangement of roses adorned with an envelope carrying the name ‘Philly’ met her attention first. Even as she breathed in the glorious scent of the wonderful old-fashioned blooms, she was taking note of the incredible number of breakfast choices on the table. Having no idea what she would like, Andreo, it seemed, had just ordered up everything for her.

Without warning, her eyes stung with tears and, with a choky little laugh of embarrassment over her own teeming emotions, she dashed away that betraying moisture. Her hand not quite steady, she reached for a fresh roll and buttered it and drank down one of the fruit juices. But it was just no use trying to block out the thoughts pressing in on her: Andreo was, indeed, pretty special. She could not remember when, if ever, any man had made such an effort on her behalf. Her own father had not given two hoots when his own last-minute demands first thing in the morning had ensured that she’d rarely had time to eat before she’d rushed out to work.

‘You might as well learn it now,’ Martin Stevenson had told her with excruciating bitterness more than once over the years. ‘Life’s tough.’

Cocooned in her warm, happy feelings about Andreo, Pippa went shopping. In fast succession she bought a black trouser suit, comfortable loafers and fresh underwear in the same store that had supplied her entire wardrobe. She really hoped that it wasn’t her dress sense that had drawn him because she had never had a flair for choosing clothes or doing her hair or make-up, she conceded ruefully. How superficial in his judgements was a guy who looked as though he had sprung live from a glossy magazine of sophisticated, classy, handsome men? Possibly dating Andreo was likely to demand a lot from her…but since when had she not been up to a challenge?

Chin at an upbeat angle, Pippa entered the Venstar building with a decided smile lurking in her clear blue eyes. In the lift she stood beside two women talking about the employee meeting that was being held on the third floor. The events room that was always used for large staff gatherings was packed. Pippa slipped in at the back just as a middle-aged director lifted a welcoming hand to announce, ‘Andreo D’Alessio, Venstar’s new president!’

Pippa saw Andreo, her Andreo, rise from his seat at the top table. Magnificent in a pale grey business suit worn with a dark blue shirt and toning silk tie, lean, sardonic face grave, he made her heart leap and her tummy fill with butterflies. Trying to keep a silly smile from forming on her lips, she felt quite ridiculously proud and possessive of him. Only when she was about to look away rather than risk other people noticing who she was staring at

did it finally dawn on her that her Andreo was striding forward to raise a silencing hand in response to the thunderous tide of applause.

For a long, timeless moment, she assumed that he was acting as spokesman for his employer and then the director addressed him as, ‘Mr D’Alessio’ and all such hope died. Disbelief made her eyes huge and her mouth fall open and, inside her suit jacket, her heart seemed to be running a one-minute mile so noisily that it was interfering with her hearing.

The finance project assistant, Jonelle, shifted closer to speak to her. ‘Go on, admit it. For a bloke as hot as Andreo D’Alessio, just about any woman would stretch a point and consider donning diamond-studded handcuffs! I mean, you wouldn’t throw him out of bed, would you?’

Pippa tried to laugh off the comment but her voice had vanished and her lips were too slow and clumsy to shape words for her. But then, had she been able to rescue her vocal cords and make sound, she would have sobbed with raging unbelief and pain.

CHAPTER FOUR

SHOCK was rolling over Pippa in a suffocating, chilling tidal wave: her Andreo was Venstar’s president, the fabulously wealthy Italian entrepreneur and womaniser, Andreo D’Alessio!

Gutted by that revelation and much too devastated to immediately react, Pippa listened dully to Andreo giving a short, witty speech about his plans for Venstar. Her Andreo? Since when? Sick with shame and the most terrible sense of hurt and betrayal, she shivered, cold to the very centre of her bones, even her skin clammy. Why had he lied to her? Why had he let her think that he was just another employee? How could he have done that to her? What sort of sick, perverted sense of humour did the guy have?

Only then did she remember that she had made the first error in mistaking the small, portly man at the podium for Venstar’s new owner. She had then made critical remarks about Andreo D’Alessio. Was that why he had slept with her? The ultimate putdown? Her tummy gave a nauseous roll. How very funny he must have thought he was being when he’d assured her that Andreo was a very common name in Italy and she’d swallowed his stupid lie whole!

Across the room, Andreo’s attention was caught by the apricot glint of her bright head. His recognition of her was instantaneous even though her hair was caught up in a rather juvenile pony-tail and her face was bare of make-up. Having assumed that she would do exactly as he had asked, he was disconcerted. In fact, he frowned. Why the hell hadn’t she remained at the hotel? Even as he looked he saw her spin away and almost cannon into a group of people in her haste to leave the room. Of course, he conceded grimly, she would immediately have learned who he was.

Instinct urged Andreo to follow her, but he was determined not to make a parade of their relationship during office hours. He was aware that his blatant pursuit of her the night before had been far from discreet. Annoyance flared in him at that grudging acknowledgement. Philly should have listened to him and taken the day off. Why was she so stubborn? Now instead of discovering his identity over a relaxing meal, she was finding it out in rather more challenging circumstances.

‘I find it hard to believe that your being late today was accidental,’ Cheryl Long was informing Pippa in a sharp tone at that exact same moment. ‘I wasn’t able to show the Kelvedon project figures to senior management because I had no idea that you had sent the file back to Acquisitions. That caused me a lot of embarrassment!’

Staff nearby stiffened at that unjust attack but Pippa was much too devastated over what she had just discovered about Andreo to feel the full bite of Cheryl’s outrageous accusation. She said nothing because she would have felt foolish defending herself against such a ridiculous charge.

‘I’d like you to use my old desk from now on,’ Cheryl added, determined, it seemed, to get a reaction out of her subordinate.

‘Fine.’ Pippa began to clear out her desk drawers.

Cheryl allowed a small smile to play over her burgundy lips and murmured with studied casualness and in an almost friendly tone, ‘Oh, I’ll need a copy of the presentation you planned to give at this afternoon’s meeting for Mr D’Alessio’s benefit.’

‘I’m afraid I haven’t prepared one,’ Pippa replied.

‘But you must have done…’ the brunette asserted, her smile falling away at ludicrous speed.

‘No, I hadn’t got around to it.’ Pippa saw no reason to point out that had she been given the job of manager, she would have devoted all of the previous day to that most important task.

Cheryl gave her a furious look of disbelief and, turning on her heel, she stalked across the room and entered Ricky Brownlow’s office with only the smallest warning knock.

‘Life around here is going to be hell,’ Jonelle forecast gloomily to nobody in particular.

‘I never thought she’d be such an unbelievable cow,’ someone else whispered aghast. ‘I mean, she’s always been good for a laugh.’

‘I can’t understand how on earth she….’ Jonelle fell silent, possibly appreciating that such remarks were tactless within Pippa’s hearing.

In the uneasy silence, Pippa relocated her possessions to her new desk.

‘What did you think of Andreo D’Alessio’s girlfriend last night?’ one of the other women asked Jonelle with determined cheer.