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Another flash of emotion crossed his face, this one echoing bewilderment. Giada reminded herself it was a good thing. She was keeping him unsettled.
Yet she almost regretted it when he leaned back, assuming his previous posture. ‘My client wants his problems to go away before the annual board meeting in three weeks. Which also happens to be when his father turns ninety. And they announce a merger with anotherFTSE 100company.’
The sheer magnitude of the miracle he...orsheneeded to perform threatened to make her jaw drop again. It was at once exhilarating, daunting and overwhelmingly personal.
Despite their billions, a family stood on the brink of being shattered beyond repair because of the actions of a brother and son. Hadn’t Gigi mentioned something about Alessio helping to orchestrate the ousting of the corrupt president of Cardosia in favour of his nephew?
Were his ‘fixes’ personal? Was that why he did it? What did it matter?
‘Tell me how you would go about fixing it,’ he invited in a silky tone, much like a snake hypnotising its prey before it struck.
Giada licked her lip, her heartbeat not at all interested in settling down. ‘Well, for starters, three weeks is out of the question. I’d find a way to buy more time.’
His mouth twitched again and she found herself tracing the curve with her eyes. ‘That is not an option,’ he stated unequivocally.
‘Then it’s impossible.’
‘Throwing in the towel so quickly?’ he taunted. ‘I guess this interview is going to be even quicker than the last one.’
He started to rise. Panic raced up her spine. ‘No. Wait.’
One eyebrow rose. And he waited.
‘I... I need time to consider how to go about it. And more information about the family.’ She cast a glance at his bare desk. ‘Surely you have a file somewhere?’
‘I do. But giving you the broad strokes is one thing, disclosing the finer details of the situation is another. Not that I won’t sue you for everything you possess...’ he paused, his gaze raking mockingly over her attire ‘...and ensure you never hold a relevant job anywhere for the rest of your life, if you breathe a word of this to anyone.’
Giada shrugged as if his words didn’t sting. ‘I won’t. But if you like, I can sign one of those non-disclosure things,’ she said, hoping he’d refuse. Gigi didn’t have a discreet bone in her body, which really begged the question why she was so keen on landing a job with Alessio Montaldi.
If he was surprised by her offer, he didn’t show it. Frankly, he looked bored. ‘Contracts like that aren’t worth the paper they’re written on if one party has nothing to lose. Tell me, Miss Parker, what do you have to lose?’ The words were soft, deadly, couched with more than a bite of suspicion.
‘Far more than you think,’ she said before she thought the better of it.
That got his attention. Glinting eyes pierced hers. ‘Please. Enlighten me,’ he invited silkily.
‘Wouldn’t that be falling under the personal label you wish to avoid?’
Touché, his expression said, but he didn’t vocalise it. Nor did his gaze leave her. Whether this was his way of disarming his prey or he found her singularly of interest, Giada couldn’t tell. She needed reprieve from it. While at the same time absurdly...craving it.
Since there was no way she was going to tell him that her work as a senior research scientist attached to one of the world’s leading public think tanks would be seriously jeopardised should her activities come to light, she kept her lips sealed and awaited his next move.
Which was an indolent shrug interrupted by her loudly growling stomach. With another sardonic look, he rose.
Even from across the short distance between them he towered over her, overwhelming her anew. But the relief she expected when his gaze left her to flick to the window didn’t arrive.
Outside, the last of the day’s winter sunset broke through grey clouds to glint off the snow. But she suspected Alessio wasn’t glancing out to admire the snow. Sure enough, he strode briskly to his desk and retrieved his phone, peppering the silence with a quick text.
Giada watched his lips firm when the answeringbloopsounded. Tossing the phone back onto the desk with suppressed anger, he strode for the door, glancing at her over his shoulder.
‘Come. We might as well have dinner. Perhaps you’ll be more efficient once you’ve eaten something.’ He paused with his hand on the handle. ‘Unless you’re in the grip of one of those fad diets that consist of alcohol and not much else?’ he added.
Her face stinging with heat, she wanted to refuse his offer on principle alone. But she was starving, having barely eaten more than a ridiculously tiny but overpriced bowl of olives and cheese at the bar, and a slice of toast with coffee as her meagre hotel breakfast this morning. As much as she wanted to emulate her twin in this regard too—since Gigi could seemingly survive on air and alcohol—Giada couldn’t deny the vital sustenance she needed to function.
Especially now.
Her discomfort ramped up as she recalled her mother’s mockery of her voracious appetite.
‘You double my food budget when you’re here. Why can’t you be more like Gigi?’
