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Yet it was so tempting to continue this taboo conversation, he thought. So tempting to court that delicate blushing colour again...to savour her reaction to him.
Serious she might be—but, heck, she was woman enough to have enjoyed a taste of the frivolous.
He liked that.
But he didn’t like it enough to play with fire, he told himself shakily.
‘My father remarried very soon after my mother died.’ Alessio brought himself back down to earth in the most ruthless fashion possible, by launching into a difficult, touchy-feely conversation of the kind he fundamentally loathed and never did.
‘Clarissa?’ Sophie said.
‘You know about her? Of course you do. You know more about my father than I do.’
‘We spend a lot of time together.’
‘What has he said about her?’
‘Does it matter? I shouldn’t have let slip that I knew who you were talking about.’
‘Why? For the first time, just now, my father and I had something of a conversation that wasn’t entirely rooted in the superficial. One thing I found out was just how much he depends on you—and not just for nursing care. Maybe you came here with that as your original intention, but it’s clear that your relationship has progressed far beyond that. As he confided to me, you’re more of a daughter to him than a nurse.’
‘He said that?’
‘Yes, he did.’ Alessio paused. Then, ‘In my absence, I have to concede that his affections have been distributed elsewhere.’ He suddenly sat back and flung wide his arms. ‘I should have kept my eye on the ball—but there you go. No point dwelling on things that could have been done. Fact is, he’s scared of dying, and I bitterly regret stressing him out earlier. But I’ve managed to at least reassure him on what’s happening within the company.’
‘He loves you.’
‘Let’s not go there.’
‘I just don’t want you to think that because Leonard cares about me somehow you’ve been pushed to one side.’
‘The thought never crossed my mind. And if it had it certainly wouldn’t cause me any kind of existential angst. Things are as they are.’ He paused and relaxed into the chair, looking at her carefully, his dark head tilted to one side. ‘I never forgave my father for remarrying so soon after my mother died,’ Alessio said bluntly.
‘No... It must have been tough on you.’
‘But it would seem that there was a story that had more to it than whatever scenario had been evolving in my head at the time. I was a kid. My father had ceased all lines of communication and I was left at the mercy of my youthful imagination. Clarissa, as he’s finally confessed, was just someone he clutched at to try and cope with his grief.’
‘It happens...’ Sophie murmured gently.
But when she thought about a young, confused Alessio, away from his father, wordlessly thinking the worst and shutting down emotionally because of that, her heart constricted.
She had been guilty of seeing only one side of the story—Leonard’s side. She had seen the clippings and the articles, and because she had become so fond of him had been angry at his son for being so cold and dismissive. She had been sure the guy who had seldom shown up was the one at fault.
She was reminded of what he had said to her a while back—that there were always two sides to every story.
‘I came here,’ Alessio continued heavily, ‘to sort out my father’s business.’
‘And the fact that that’s going well will really help Leonard’s state of mind,’ she told him. ‘He might be grumpy, but I know he’s relieved that things have been taken out of his hands.’
Their conversation was factual enough now, but there was a thrilling undertow that made Sophie’s pulses race. Every nerve in her body was stretched taut and she found it difficult to wrest her eyes away from his.
Confiding didn’t come easy to Alessio. She knew that, the situation being what it was, he probably felt cornered into saying more to her than he wanted to. Heck, he had barely noticed her existence for the past couple of years! She could have been a pot plant languishing in the corner of a room for all the attention he had paid her!
But things had changed. Did he think that he had to include her because she had become an important part of his father’s life? Or had that kiss shifted the ground underneath them?
It certainly had for her, whether she wanted to admit it or not.
He’d told her that it had been nothing but a blip, a moment to be forgotten, and yet when he had referred to it moments earlier she had felt the feathery brush of lust graze her skin all over again.
