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“I suppose you’re right about that,” Amy said. “It’s just a really nice thing to see—and to get to be a part of. I owe you guys thanks for letting me work here while I’m in town.”
“Not at all!” Gianna assured her. “Everyone agrees that we oweyoua debt of gratitude for your willingness to contribute your time to the project. After all, we’re not paying you for any of your work here.”
Amy blushed. “Mr. Canali is paying me a wage,” she said. “It’s more than enough.”
“What’s it like, living at the Canali estate?” Gianna wondered. “If you don’t mind my asking.”
“I don’t mind,” Amy said. “I wasn’t aware you knew I had been living there, though.”
“Oh, everyone knows,” Gianna said. She giggled. “To be honest with you, you’re a hot topic of gossip among some of us.”
“I am?” Amy didn’t know what to make of that. “Why?”
“Well…it’s just that Adriano Canali issoattractive,” Gianna said. “Don’t you think he is?”
Apparently, it was a commonly held opinion. “I really hadn’t noticed,” Amy lied through her teeth.
“Oh, you must have thought about it,” Gianna said. “I’m sure you’d never act on it. I know you’re a professional. But it must have at least entered your mind.”
Well, that made Amy feel guilty as hell. Gianna was so confident that Amy was too professional to act on her attraction to Adriano. What would she say if she knew that Amy had already done exactly that?
It isn’t my fault. I didn’t know who he was at the time, she reminded herself.
“I’ve got to be honest with you,” Gianna said. “If I was living there, I think my professionalism would be tested. Seeing him at all hours of the day and night…” She sighed and fanned herself dramatically.
“I don’t see him at all hours,” Amy said quickly.
But in fact, that wasn’t nearly as true as it had once been.
When she arrived home from the clinic that day, Adriano was in his study with the door open, just as he had been every day that week. Amy had taken to stopping in the kitchen at the main house before going over to the guest cottage—the chef, Claudia, usually made some kind of small meal in the afternoon that Amy would never have thought of creating for herself and would set aside a plate for her to take with her. Today it was caprese salad and olives.
She collected her plate and started across the foyer, walking softly so as not to disturb Adriano, who was probably working—and even if he wasn’t, he had never seemed to welcome her presence in the house.
But now he called out to her. “Amy?”
She paused, then went to the study door. “Did you need something?” she asked, leaning against the frame.
He looked up. “Would you like to stay over here and eat that? I’ve been waiting for you to get home before eating mine.”
“Oh,” she said. That was a surprise.
He was watching her hopefully, and suddenly all she could think about was the night he’d looked at her with those dark eyes and asked her if she’d like to come up to his hotel room. The night she had thrown caution to the wind.
This wasn’t the same thing. He was asking her to sit down to a meal. That wasn’t going to lead anywhere dangerous.
So why was her heart racing so fast?
She could tell him no. She could take her snack back to the guest cottage and eat alone.
She was about to do exactly that when he held up a little blue folder. “I’m looking through a list of potential surrogates,” he said. “I could use your medical opinion on some of these profiles so I can make the best choice.”
Oh.
He wasn’t inviting her in to spend time with him. He was inviting her in hoping she would do her job.
Consulting on the suitability of surrogacy candidates wasn’t exactly in her wheelhouse, but he was right to think that general medical knowledge would be a benefit. She nodded and started into the room. “I can help you with that.”
“Well, hang on,” he said. “I’m tired of sitting in the office. Let’s go into the den and work on this. Is that all right with you?”
