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‘Because I can’t; not now. Not now we’ve been lovers—it can never get itself back onto the right kind of boss-secretary footing which we used to enjoy. And you’ll find another secr
etary.’
He curled the fingers of his hand into a tight ball. ‘I don’t want another secretary.’
‘But you will—and it will all be fine. You just don’t like change, that’s all.’And oddly enough, she felt strong now—despite the slight woolliness in her knees which seemed to go hand in hand with the brass band which was currently playing a muffled symphony inside her head. ‘The row we had was irrelevant, I was planning to leave before we had it and I’d be planning to leave no matter what. I have to—surely you can see that?’
‘But why?’ he demanded.
Tell him, Angie urged herself. Explain the feelings and some of the emotions behind your actions and you won’t be able to see him for dust. ‘Because sooner or later our…affair will finish—and it would be intolerable to go on working together after that.’
Riccardo scowled, unused to having this kind of argument put to him, when he was the one usually calling the shots. ‘It isn’t an affair,’ he objected stubbornly. ‘Since neither of us are married.’
But she noticed he hadn’t denied that it would finish. For how could he? ‘Then how would you define it?’
He shrugged. ‘A relationship?’
She heard the doubt in his voice and she might have laughed if it didn’t hurt so much. ‘A working relationship, yes—but nothing more than that. Why, we’ve never even been out on a date together!’
‘Are you saying that’s what you want?’ he demanded. ‘To start dating?’
She shook her head in frustration. ‘Not at all,’ she answered.
‘No? Can’t think of anything else you might want?’ he questioned silkily as he pulled her to her feet and into his arms, his lips moving over hers with a hunger he made no attempt to disguise. Through the mists which now seemed to be gathering force inside her head, Angie felt the answering tug of desire, but she pulled away from him while she still had the strength.
‘You’ll catch my cold,’ she objected and then, inexplicably, her teeth started chattering.
Frowning, he put the back of his hand over her forehead. ‘You’re burning up! That is no cold,’ he ground out. ‘That feels more like fever.’ Exclaiming softly in Italian, he sat her back down on the sofa and quickly clicked out a number on his phone before beginning to speak in rapid Italian. ‘Sì, sì—subito.’ And then he picked up Angie’s coat and bag. ‘Come on, piccola,’ he said softly. ‘We’re going.’
Blankly, she stared up at him. ‘Where?’
‘I’m taking you home. You need to be in bed.’
‘I don’t—’
‘Please don’t argue with me, Angie. Not this time.’
She allowed him to take her downstairs, vaguely aware of curious faces turned in their direction once they reached the reception area. And dimly, once she’d been clipped into the seat belt in the back of the limousine, it occurred to her that Marco was taking a very odd route to Stanhope.
And it wasn’t until they had pulled up outside a very impressive old building and a doorman had sprung into action—doffing his cap at Riccardo and pressing the lift button—that Angie realised that he wasn’t taking her home at all. At least, not to her home.
‘What are you doing?’ she sniffed weakly as he held onto her elbow and the lift zoomed with the speed of a jet towards its lofty destination. ‘I thought you were taking me home.’
‘You think I’d leave you there, in that tiny, miserable little place? All alone,’ he added. ‘With nobody to look after you?’
‘I don’t need anybody to look after me,’ she said stubbornly.
‘Yes, you do.’
She gave up objecting then because Riccardo carried her—carried her!—into what was clearly the master bedroom and her head felt all whoozy as he put her down on a huge bed.
Then he undressed her with a detached, almost ruthless efficiency—leaving her wearing just her bra and panties and pulling a sheet over her while he went to phone the doctor.
‘I don’t need a doctor,’ protested Angie, even though she was shivering quite badly now.
The doctor arrived shortly afterwards and put a horrible cold stethoscope against her chest while he took her temperature. ‘Her temperature is sky-high,’ he announced.
She tried to grab the duvet, but Riccardo prised it from her fingers.
