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‘If you’d like to sit down...’ She edged away just enough to escape his suffocating nearness, which addled her wits. ‘I’ll bring your food to you.’
‘I’m not my father,’ Alessio murmured softly. ‘I’m more than capable of getting a plate for myself, and some cutlery, and dishing out my own food.’
Rattled by the tingling racing up and down her spine, Sophie stood back, leaning against the counter, and said testily, ‘But can you cook the food that goes on the plate?’
Their eyes met and she reddened.
Alessio burst out laughing. For a few seconds his dark eyes roved over her burning face, before he sat down, nodding at the chair opposite him in an invitation for her to sit.
‘No, I can’t,’ he said, and helped himself to the tomato and basil and herb sauce, dumping it over the pasta she had boiled and tossed in olive oil. ‘Why deprive a decent chef of earning a living?’
‘Younevercook anything for yourself?’
Sophie sat. There was a cup of tepid tea in front of her, which she had been drinking before. She fetched them both some water and then, when he asked her whether there was any wine, poured a glass for him.
‘I never drink on my own,’ Alessio said.
‘I don’t drink on duty...’
‘You’re not on duty now.’
It feels like duty, Sophie thought. Or something else. Something that made her pulses leap and her cool mind suddenly begin to unravel...something that was just enough to make her nervous.
But she wasn’t going to let him see that.
For one thing, she was the woman in charge of his dad and, whatever issues he and Alessio had between them, it was important that she gave the impression of being someone capable and professional. How much confidence in her abilities would Alessio have if she was flustered and tongue-tied around him?
She duly poured herself a small glass and took a sip. ‘So you eat out all the time?’
‘You look shocked,’ he said.
‘Doesn’t it get a little boring?’
‘I have a personal chef who cooks for me when I’m at my place.’
‘You’re spoilt.’
‘The more I’m with you, the more you surprise me.’
‘Please don’t ask me where I’ve been hiding,’ Sophie said, realising with a start that the glass of wine was nearly gone, even though she couldn’t remember having any. ‘I do a job. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for...for what’s happening with your dad just now.’
‘That was excellent.’ Alessio pushed the empty plate to one side and refilled their glasses.
And seeing that simple gesture Sophie realised just how much in control he was. He started conversations when he chose to. He bypassed what he had no intention of sharing. And he was brazen when it came to prying into other people’s motivations.
She had seen all the articles his father had cut out and saved over the years. Even now that online search engines had made knowledge accessible at the flick of a button, Leonard still ferreted out the most flattering and had them printed into hard copy so that he could keep them.
Every article was glowing in its praise for this guy who ruled the financial world. Every gossip column was stuffed with pictures of him somewhere, doing something important, with someone very beautiful on his arm.
He was clearly a man who played as hard as he worked.
But there was nothing that ever gave the slightest indication of what sort of man he really was on the inside.
His private thoughts and opinions on anything other than business deals were nowhere to be found.
Sophie didn’t want to expend energy in thinking about the guy, because she was here to do a job and so was he. She ignored the compliment about the food and looked at him steadily until he smiled...a slow, curling smile that seemed to acknowledge every single little thought that had been running through her head.
It was disconcerting.
