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Katie stiffened, snapping out of the self-pity. She didn’t need fancy clothes, given she worked in the orchards and the kitchen most of the time.
‘You can’t refuse after all I’ve done for you—’
A trickle of sweat slithered down her back, even though the building was beautifully climate-controlled. Her body was literally leaking her nerves. She uncurled her grip on her bag for the twentieth time. Only to immediately clutch the strap again as if it were her lifeline.
She’d not made an appointment, and it was sheer luck that Alessandro was in the office at all today. Too late she realised she had no idea what she’d have done if he hadn’t been. She still had no idea what she was going to do if he said no.
‘Don’t you want to be a real member of the family?’
That attempt at manipulation had stabbed deep. So after all this time Katie was still an outsider? She’d always felt Brian hadn’t wanted her, but for him to state it so explicitly, for him to try to force her into doing something insane... She was still an outsider. Still just someone who owed...
‘Do you want to watch her devastation?’
And that was the problem. She did owe Susan, her foster mother. She more than owed her—she loved her, and she had to protect her.
‘Ms Collins?’ The elegant receptionist finally interrupted her anxious reverie. ‘Alessandro is ready to see you now.’
Katie’s heart skidded. She was seized with the urge to bolt in the other direction. Instead she followed the older woman, drawing in a deep breath as she went.
It was a good thing she did, because the second she walked into his office her lungs, like the rest of her, were rendered immobile. She’d looked at recent pictures on the train ride here, so she’d thought she’d be immune. She’d been wrong. Alessandro Zetticci in the flesh was overwhelming.
Katie couldn’t smile as the receptionist left—couldn’t even see what the room was like, because she couldn’t peel her gaze from where he stood behind his desk. Flashes of rogue memory burned. Alessandro in the orchard. His smile. His low laugh. His broad shoulders...
She blinked, desperately focusing on him here and now and clothed.
His jet-black hair was straight and long enough to flop in his eyes. His sculpted cheekbones were emphasised by the razor-sharp edge of a perfectly symmetrical, masculine jaw. Lightly stubbled rather than clean-shaven, he looked as if it wasn’t long since he’d left his bed. Long black lashes and dark eyebrows framed his arresting eyes. Powder blue, they were brightly backlit by fierce burning intensity.
If she hadn’t known better she’d have thought he wore coloured contact lenses, but Katie had seen him sullen and silent over the breakfast table and at Christmas dinners long gone by, and even then, when he’d been moody and resentful, his eyes had glowed with that brilliance.
His mouth had a natural sinful curve, a permanent wicked half-smile—as if he were thinking something slightly inappropriate. It was a mouth made to kiss. Katie remembered that.
The top button of his white shirt was undone, exposing a deeply tanned neck. That tan was an all-over one. Katie remembered that too.
The man was appallingly handsome. The kind of gorgeous rarely seen in the streets, that made ordinary people turn for a second, third, fourth look.
But it wasn’t only his smouldering looks that drew people’s attention. It was the energy that crackled from him. He had vitality—a kind of fire that drew everyone around him in. It was what had made his empire so massive, so quickly. Because of that smile and that aura of amusement, everyone wanted to lean closer, seduced by the self-assurance that glowed in his eyes.
More than self-assurance he had arrogance—a pure don’t-give-a-damn attitude that made him impossibly popular and his investments an unparalleled triumph. He looked ready for something far more enjoyable and intimate than business. He looked like a man with a wicked ability to have a good time. And he followed through on that appearance. He was irresistible—catnip to pretty much every woman in the world. And he was happy to be played with. But never caught.
Katie definitely remembered that.
Yet Alessandro Zetticci had faced hardship too. Katie was counting on that fact to make him human. Make him understand. Make him want to help.
Now she blinked again, breaking the mortifying immobility his appearance had engendered and stepped deeper into his domain. He didn’t greet her—didn’t say anything. His swift glance seemed to take her in and dismiss her all in one second.
‘I’m Katie Collins,’ she began, her embarrassment blooming in the face of his uncharacteristic frigidity. ‘I live at White Oaks Hall with Brian Fielding—’
He still didn’t smile. ‘I don’t need you to remind me who you are, Katie.’
‘I wasn’t sure you’d remember—’
‘How could I possibly forget?’ Displeasure and disapproval flashed in his eyes.
Faltering at his unfriendly demeanour, Katie licked her dry lips. She’d done nothing to him. Certainly she’d meant nothing to him.
Alessandro Zetticci had stalked into Katie’s life when he was a sullen fifteen and she a very shy ten. His father, famed Italian chef Aldo Zetticci, had just married Brian’s sister Naomi. Brian and Naomi were close, so Aldo and Alessandro had joined the extended Fielding family for holidays at White Oaks—much to Alessandro’s obvious resentment.
Only a couple of years later Aldo had died. Alessandro and Naomi had then clashed on the future of his father’s food empire. Brian had backed Naomi. Petulant and fiery, Alessandro had fought hard, flaring up at Brian’s interference.
