Unwordly Secretary, Gorgeous Boss: Secretary Mistress, Convenient Wife / The Boss's Unconventional Assistant / The Boss's Forbidden Secretary

‘We didn’t get much sleep—I know that!’ Trying to delicately extricate herself, when his hands were busy impelling her hips towards his, she grabbed hold of the sheet and held it fast, so that there was no danger of it slipping down.

‘It was our wedding night … did you really expect to sleep?’ he mocked gently.

‘Perhaps not … but right now I need some time to relax and get my head together. I feel almost dizzy with all that’s happened!’

‘Well, Signora Moritzzoni … we will breakfast on the terrace by the orangerie, and you can take all the time you want to think about events. Yesterday went well, no?’

‘Yes … it went very well.’

‘And there is nothing worrying you?’

‘Only that you don’t regret what we’ve done? Getting married, I mean? What if you meet somebody you really fall in love with, Fabian? Have you thought of that? You might grow to resent tying yourself to me then!’

‘You are such a foolish little romantic, my sweet Laura!’

Even though his words pierced her heart, Fabian’s glance was unmistakably tender in that indelible moment when he cupped her face between his hands and gazed into her eyes.

‘There is no possibility of any such thing happening to me. I know exactly what I am doing, and why, and I do not regret a thing! I told you before that emotions are not to be trusted, and I stand by that statement. In time I do not doubt that you and I will become good friends … we are already lovers … and when we have our children we will have a marriage based on a solid foundation of friendship and respect—not something built on a precarious little love affair that fizzled out after just a few weeks or months!’

Laura was silent, even though his disbelief in love stung worse than the sharpened points of a thousand swords digging into her flesh. Was he destined to be cynical about love for the rest of his life because of his ex-wife’s behaviour? She wanted to ask him more about his past and her, but she sensed it was a topic he wouldn’t readily discuss. She had brought shame on him, he had told her, and now there was a wall in him because of it … a wall that sooner or later she would have to crack if their future lives together had any chance of success at all. She made herself change the subject. ‘By the way … regarding my return to work. I want to look for a post teaching music to children fairly soon. I’ve been away from it too long since the accident and I need to get back to doing what I love. You said you would respect my wishes about this.’

‘Of course.’ Moving even closer, Fabian lifted a few strands of her wheat-gold hair and just stared at them as if contemplating something profound. But then his gaze sank back into hers once again and made Laura’s breath catch. ‘It will not be a problem. You have my promise that you may work up until such time as you are pregnant with my child. But after that … the situation will have to be reviewed. Agreed?’

At the idea of falling pregnant with her husband’s child, Laura’s stomach fluttered half with joy and half with fear. Having Fabian’s baby would bind her to him with love even more … how could it not? One day he would realise that she loved him and what then? Her mouth was suddenly so dry that she could barely speak her answer. ‘Agreed.’

‘And the perfect teaching post for you will not be hard to find. I have a lot of contacts in both the arts and in other areas of education and you will soon be doing the work you love again.’

‘That would please me but …’ Hectic colour swam into Laura’s cheeks at the almost ‘predatory’ way Fabian was suddenly regarding her and she deliberately pulled her glance from his, determined to finish what she was saying. ‘I don’t want any special favours. I’d like to win the right position on my own merit. Not because you used your influence in any way! Now I need to shower and dress. I’ve lingered here too long and I—Stop looking at me like that!’

‘You seriously expect me not to be aroused when I know you are naked under that sheet? If so … you attribute to me powers of self-control I do not possess where you are concerned! After the intensity of pleasure last night, my body cannot help craving yours again! I mean it as a compliment. You are a very desirable woman with all the womanly attributes a man could want … and try as I might, I cannot resist the hot demand that burns in my blood for you!’

Before Laura could gather her wits, his lips seared hers in a kiss that completely obliterated the flimsy vestiges of her resistance as though it was nothing at all and she found herself clinging to him with an un-contained moan of longing and delight as he stripped away the sheet she wore and let it drift to the floor in a soft burgundy pool at her feet.…

Rome—noisy, beautiful, vibrant—descriptions were legendary and myriad and it was one of Fabian’s favourite cities in the world. He had an apartment in the Piazza Navona that overlooked the impressive fountain of Neptune. Fashionably decorated but with its fair share of faded grandeur in keeping with the building’s age—it was a place that had no associations with his father whatsoever. When Fabian had left Tuscany to go to university to study art—he had gone to Rome. His first taste of freedom—it had held an affectionate place in his heart ever since. Now he wanted to show what it had to offer to Laura—the woman who was now his wife. A memory came to him as they strolled together down the narrow bustling side streets that led away from the piazza—a memory of tears glistening in her beautiful eyes when they had been listening to that young tenor singing. He had reached for her hand to comfort her because he’d intuited that the sorrow in her was a deep, far-reaching river and the singer’s voice had merely been a catalyst to opening the floodgates of sadness that dwelled inside. He had not yet asked her properly about the accident or about the husband she had lost. Now that Laura was his wife Fabian felt even less inclined to visit both those subjects—yet he could not avoid doing so for ever. If he felt a little possessive and wanted to shut out the past for both of them so that it wouldn’t intrude on the pleasure of today—he told himself it was only natural. But he really did have a great desire to get to know her better and therefore, some time soon, he would have to find out the details about what happened to her. He fully intended to be the best husband he could be in this marriage. And if there were difficulties ahead, then he honestly believed they could be overcome because already they had a profoundly sensual connection that would go a long way towards healing any rifts.

‘It’s just as I imagined it would be.’

‘It is?’

Catching her hand and knowing a fierce pleasure in keeping it in his—Fabian smiled. In her white peasant-style cotton dress with its puffed sleeves and flared skirt, her blonde hair shining and her extraordinary eyes as excited as a child’s … she was definitely molto bello …

‘Bustling, busy and everywhere you look, something beautiful or fascinating to gaze at!’

‘I cannot argue with that!’ He was looking at his wife, with frank male appreciation, and she stared back at him with an expression that was both shy and surprised.

Then she smiled and hit him playfully on the arm. ‘You know what I mean!’

‘Yes, but we have barely even started our little tour of discovery yet! There are many amazing sights in Roma to see. First of all I want to take you to a coffee bar that does the best espresso in all of Italy! It is mostly only known to locals, but I think you will like it.’

‘Well, seeing as though I’ve become a huge fan of your beloved espresso in the weeks since I’ve been here, lead on!’

In the bustling aroma-filled coffee bar, with its array of monochrome photos of 1940s and ‘50s jazz musicians adorning the walls, functional unfussy wooden tables and sturdy chairs, Fabian chose seats by the window so that Laura could sit and ‘watch the world go by’, as she so charmingly put it.

She was like an excited child today, and her enthusiasm for being in his favourite city gave him a sense of satisfaction and pleasure that took him by surprise. He also had to keep curtailing a sudden great need to touch her and hold her, and the warmth that kept invading his insides whenever his gaze met hers he stubbornly put down to excitement and pleasure—not anything more meaningful. He had been down that road of self-deception before, with Domenica, and she had exposed him for the trusting, naïve, lovestruck idiot he had been—too blinded and besotted to know that his wife was fooling around behind his back.

Swallowing down the bitter memory, Fabian nodded towards the grey-paved square outside, complete with fountain and edged by yellowed crumbling buildings with dusty and in some cases ancient shop signs.

‘This place used to be a flower and fruit market, but now the sellers have dwindled to just two or three. It is now mainly used as a meeting place for locals.’

‘You sound like you know it well?’

‘I discovered it when I was a student here. My friends and I would often meet over an espresso here, or stand in the square and put the world to rights!’

‘And what did you study?’ She leant towards him a little across the table, her glance intensely interested.

Quirking a philosophical eyebrow, Fabian grinned. ‘What else does one study in Rome?’ he asked, teasing. ‘The history of art, of course!’

‘What an amazing resource you had for your re-search!’ Laura sighed. ‘It must have been wonderful!’

‘It was.’

‘And is this where you met your ex-wife, Fabian?

In Rome?’

His chest tightened uncomfortably. ‘No. I met Domenica in Tuscany. Her father was a friend of my father’s.’

‘Domenica? That’s a beautiful name.’

‘She was a beautiful girl … but unfortunately her heart was not so beautiful.’

‘Were you—?’

‘Let us talk about something else. I do not care to dwell on the past today … only on the future.’ His tone was firm.

‘And what about the present?’ Leaning back in the straight-backed chair, Laura was reflective. ‘Time goes by so quickly, and sometimes we don’t realise that moments are passing us by because we’re not paying attention.’

‘You have clearly spent a lot of time thinking about such things, I can tell.’

‘After the accident, when I was in hospital, I had nothing but time to reflect on what life was all about. And here in the west we take so much for granted. It seems to me there’s not much point in being given the gift of life if we never even pause to reflect on what is the meaning and purpose of it.’

‘Well … not everyone is as conscious or as appreciative of the gift we have been given as you, my sweet Laura. Most people behave as though they are going to be here for ever!’

‘Sometimes it takes something momentous like an accident or an illness to wake people up. Don’t you think it would be better if they woke up to their life before that point?’

‘I am beginning to think that I have married a budding psychotherapist!’

‘I’m sorry.’ A crimson tide swept into her cheeks. ‘I tend to get a little carried away when I’m talking about these things.’