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‘A bit of money? You’re as rich as Croesus.’ They were now in front of the restaurant and Chase stared down at her formal working suit in dismay. ‘I don’t feel comfortable dining in a place like this wearing a suit.’

‘Don’t wear the jacket and undo the top three buttons of the shirt.’

‘I beg your pardon?’ She looked at him, her cheeks bright red, and he grinned at her. A full-on charming grin that knocked her sideways. It was that same grin that had turned her life on its head eight years ago and had made her continue to see him even though everything in her had been screaming at her to stop.

‘You heard me.’ He stepped out of the car and leaned through to give his driver instructions; when he straightened, it was to see that the prissy jacket, at least, had been left behind in the car.

‘What about the buttons?’ he asked, with the same sexy grin that made her toes curl and her skin feel tight and prickly.

He didn’t give her time to think about it. With their eyes still locked, he undid the offending buttons. The softness of her skin under the starchy top... The glimpse of a cleavage... His breath caught sharply in his throat, mimicking hers.

‘Don’t do that!’ Chase clasped the top and stumbled back a few steps.

‘Much better. After you?’

Chase barely took note of the restaurant as they were ushered inside. She had been to a few fancy places since she had started working at Fitzsimmons. Her inclination to stare in awe had thankfully subsided. Nor was her mind in full working order just at the moment, not when her body was still in a state of heightened response at that intimate gesture of his undoing those buttons as though...as though she was his; as though they were the lovers they never, actually, ever had been.

‘You said you had a proposal to put to me,’ was the first thing she said tightly as soon as they were seated.

Alessandro perused the menu and made a few helpful suggestions which Chase ignored.

‘This isn’t a social occasion,’ she said, choosing the first thing off the menu and shaking her head when he tried to entice her into a glass of wine.

‘But it could be,’ he returned smoothly. ‘Couldn’t it?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean that eight years ago you were a married woman, albeit without my knowledge. Now, you’re not. Your husband is no longer around and, unless you have another one stashed up your sleeve somewhere...?’

Caught unawares, Chase laughed shortly. ‘Marriage isn’t an institution I’ll be going near again. Been there, done that, got the tee-shirt.’

Alessandro maintained a steady smile but his jaw hardened. ‘Still in mourning?’ he asked softly.

‘Too wrapped up with my career,’ Chase answered steadily.

‘You haven’t answered my question, but no matter. It really doesn’t make any difference to the proposal I have in mind.’ So she was still wrapped up in the ex. Why else would she have been at pains to avoid his question? He harked back to his image of the man, good-looking in a thuggish sort of way, her type of guy.

And yet, wrapped up or not in the past, she was still affected by him. He knew that with some highly developed sixth sense. As affected by him as he was, unfortunately, affected by her. She was an itch that needed to be scratched and he intended to do just that. Scratch the itch, and he would get her out of his system once and for all.

‘So what’s your proposal?’ Had she ordered crab mousse? It seemed so, as one was placed in front of her. She tucked into it without appetite.

‘Do you get as personally wrapped up with all your clients as you do with this particular one?’ Alessandro watched as she toyed with the starter in front of her.

‘I told you. I knew her before... She’s been a friend for years.’

‘She’s in her sixties.’

‘What does age have to do with anything?’ Chase looked at him defensively. Yes, she knew where this was going. Why was a young girl in her twenties friends with a woman in her sixties? Of course, age was no barrier to friendship. Many young people had friends who were much older than they were. What was the big deal? But Beth was one of her few friends, one of the few people in whom she had confided to some extent.

‘Nothing. It’s laudable. Although...’

‘Although what? I suppose you’re going to tell me that my friends should all be young and frivolous? That I should be spending my free time going to clubs and drinking instead of hanging out with a woman old enough to be my mother?’

‘Although...isn’t there something that suggests you shouldn’t be working for someone with whom you’re personally involved? I wasn’t going to lecture you on hanging out with anyone. You choose your own friends, Chase. Interesting, however, that you never seemed to have a lot of those when I knew you eight years ago.’

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