Innocent In The Boardroom: At Her Boss's Pleasure / Her Boss by Day... / How to Sleep with the Boss

‘It wasn’t a suggestion, Kate. It was an order.’

‘And my answer wasn’t a suggestion either. It was a statement of fact.’ She sighed. ‘I’m very fond of George. He’s been good to me, and I want him to know that I’m here for him and his wife. Whatever the outcome of your...talk with him.’ She paused and looked at Alessandro’s averted profile. His beautiful eyes were veiled.

He turned to her before opening his door. ‘Stubborn.’

‘Yes, I can be.’ She stuck her chin out defiantly, prepared to go all the way into an argument, but there was no argument as he shrugged and stepped out of the car, waited for her to join him.

She wished she could reach into his head and see what he was thinking. She had the strangest urge to rest her hand on his forearm in a gesture of comfort, although she had no idea what she would be comforting him for—unless it was just for getting something wrong, for showing himself to be fallible like the rest of the human race.

She didn’t imagine that he liked being wrong. She thought that he had probably never been wrong about anything in his entire life—at least not when it came to business. In business—and this was a business matter after all—his judgement would always have been faultless.

‘Stubborn can sometimes be a good thing,’ he mused, glancing down at her.

‘What...what do you intend to do?’ she ventured, half running to keep up with him and longing for a bit of cool, because she was beginning to overheat in her outfit.

‘I intend to play it by ear...’

‘Can that sometimes be a good thing?’

‘I’ll let you know later. Can’t say it’s something I’ve ever done before.’

They entered the cool foyer of the hospital, and after that everything seemed to happen very quickly.

Alessandro commanded attention. How did that work when he wasn’t Canadian, wasn’t a doctor and had no connections to the hospital? It just did.

Within half an hour they knew where they could locate George, and after an hour and a half—during which time they sat in a very modern, very nice restaurant in front of cups of coffee, with Alessandro working via his smartphone and Kate pretending to be hard at it in front of her tablet—George came to meet them.

A wearily resigned George, who had obviously sussed why they had landed up in Toronto and at the hospital.

Kate’s heart went out to the older man. He was in one of his usual trademark brightly coloured outfits. She had always smiled at that. Even when he was in a suit his shirt was always jolly, his tie was always patterned, his hankies were always ridiculously gimmicky. He had told her once, laughing, that his wife chose his shirts, his daughter chose his handkerchiefs and his grandchildren chose his socks. So what chance did he ever have of looking debonair?

He seemed to have shrunk—or maybe she was only noticing that now because he looked so weary.

‘I know why you’ve come,’ were his opening words as he sat opposite them with a cup of coffee. He looked at Alessandro with resignation. ‘Of course I was going to be found out. I’d hoped that somehow I would have managed to start repaying what I... I want to say what I borrowed, but I realize, Mr Preda, that you probably won’t see it that way...’

‘You have no idea how I’m going to see it, George. So why don’t you start from the beginning and leave nothing out...?’

* * *

It was after six by the time their day was done. And every second of it had been spent at a high-voltage pace that had left Kate breathless, barely able to keep up.

Now, as she tripped along in Alessandro’s wake, she ran her fingers through her hair, which had unravelled, been scooped back up again, and then unravelled again—so heaven only knew what she looked like now. Not the consummate professional, she was betting.

‘Alessandro...’ she breathed, only realizing afterwards that it was the first time she had addressed him by his Christian name without feeling awkward.

Alessandro stopped en route to his very patient driver, who had been on call throughout the day and was probably as exhausted as she was.

He shot her an expressive and very wry look. ‘Well? Get it over and done with...’

‘What?’

‘A tender-hearted comment about my soft side... Have I turned into one of those, caring, sharing touchy-feely types who do foot massages for their loved ones every evening before running them a hot bath and cooking them a slap-up meal?’

‘I have seen a different side to you...’

‘Same side as always,’ Alessandro told her drily. ‘You’re just choosing to interpret it in a different way. There would have been no point prosecuting George.’

‘You did more than just not prosecute him,’ she pointed out.

But she wasn’t going to run away with a long explanation of exactly what had transpired over the past few hours. He might tell her that he had been as tough in his dealings as he always was, but he hadn’t.

George’s granddaughter was ill. Tears had sprung to his eyes as he had described the speed of little Imogen’s disease and their dismay when they had discovered that the prognosis in the UK was not favourable.

They had scoured the internet—searching for hope, really—and it had come in the form of a revolutionary breakthrough treatment in Toronto. But it was treatment that came at a price, and hence his dipping into money that didn’t belong to him. Because he had already used all his savings—every scrap of money that had been put aside for his retirement—on the initial consultations and the first lot of treatment.

Alessandro could have listened and stuck to the programme: You ripped me off and you’re out—save your excuses for the judge.

Even at her most optimistic she’d thought he might have acquitted George of blame, understood the extenuating circumstances and been sympathetic when it came to a repayment scheme.

Instead, he had not only heard the older man out and absolved him of having to repay the debt, but he had taken charge of everything. He had dealt with the bank, set up an account for George’s daughter, then spoken to the hospital, assured them that the treatment would be covered whatever the cost. He had also—and this had made her heart constrict—informed George that he would not have to see out his old age in penury.

Alessandro Preda, a hard man in the world of finance, a guy who was ruthless in his business dealings, had gone beyond the bounds of duty.

‘True,’ he agreed, stepping aside so that she could precede him into the car. ‘And of course he should have spoken to me before he did what he did...’ He sprawled back against the door, facing her, his handsome, lean face amused and speculative.

‘But all’s well that ends well...’ Kate inserted hurriedly. ‘Although we didn’t get to visit your client. Will that be on the agenda for tomorrow?’

‘Tell me you’re not about to stick on your business hat after the day we’ve had?’

Kate licked her lips, nervously aware of his eyes fastened to her face. She had completely forgotten throughout the course of the day that she had to be careful when she was around him. She had seen another side to him and had been swept away by the revelation.

Which didn’t change the fact that she still heartily disapproved of him on a number of fronts...

‘Because I’m too tired to start thinking about cutting deals...’

‘Of course.’

‘And I’m surprised you don’t feel the same.’

‘I suppose I could do with a little downtime...’

‘Splendid. Because tonight we’ll go out for dinner, do a little city exploring. We can both knock business on the head for a couple of hours—wouldn’t you agree?’

‘Dinner...? City exploring...?’ she asked, dry-mouthed.

‘Or you can call it “downtime”. Whatever you prefer. And you’re not going to be wearing a suit.’

‘But that’s pretty much all I—’