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‘I was thinking that what you just said...about Leonard being relieved that someone else has taken over...well, you’re right. Of course. It’s noticeable. It really is. People coping with problems and issues...yes. It’s a blessing sometimes when someone steps in...takes over...’
She was stammering, her jerky outpouring of words trying to cover her inner turmoil.
‘Not that I would know.’
‘You had no one there to help you when you needed help after your father died. Your mother and your sister depended on you and I know you shouldered the burden alone. What about your friends?’
‘I don’t feel sorry for myself...’ she said awkwardly, wishing she had never said anything in the first place.
She focused on what he had said, really giving it consideration. How could she tell him that confiding in anyone about her unhappy situation growing up had felt inappropriate? All her friends had been talking about boys and parties and clothes. Who had wanted to be saddled with her conversation about the cheapest place to buy groceries, or how difficult it sometimes was to deal with her mother when she didn’t want to get out of bed? No one.
But Alessio was staring at her, unsmiling, his dark eyes curious, oddly encouraging her to expand on the story she had started.
She thought of the way he had stepped up to the plate. She had been so nervous when she had decided to head to London to see him. She had predetermined that he wasn’t going to be obliging, and yet he had put his own life on hold so that he could manage his father’s, and he had done so without a single murmur of complaint.
And now here they were, in this stunning villa, and arrangements had been made for Leonard’s house to be renovated. And she knew that Alessio had taken a personal interest in finding out just what his father wanted, had allayed all his doubts and fears and done so without resentment.
So...?
As they sat there in the kitchen, Sophie felt the strangest temptation to break all her rules and open herself up in ways she wasn’t accustomed to doing.
‘Talk to me, Sophie,’ Alessio murmured.
He dropped his feet to the ground and leaned towards her, his arms resting loosely on his thighs, his knees almost but not quite touching hers.
‘Don’t be silly.’ Her voice was shaky when she replied, and she was held captive by his calm, unwavering stare. ‘Since when are you interested in listening to what I have to say about anything that isn’t to do with your father? Besides, I’ve already told you about...about my mother and my sister. There’s no need to pretend any more interest.’
‘Now who’s being silly...?’
‘Alessio...’ She threaded her fingers through her spiky fair hair and darted a helpless look at him.
‘Alessio...I like the way you say my name... You have a husky voice—has anyone ever told you that?’
‘Is that a compliment?’
She smiled. Her pulses were racing. There was a simmering, sizzling excitement zigzagging just below the surface that felt dangerous but compelling at the same time. And she didn’t know whether she was imagining it or not...didn’t quite know what to do with it.
‘It is. It makes it sound as though you think carefully about every word that leaves your mouth.’
This time she laughed and relaxed. ‘Don’t most people think before they speak?’
‘You’d be surprised...’
‘What do you mean?’
Alessio grinned crookedly and raked his fingers through his hair without taking his eyes off her face for a second.
Sophie’s breath caught in her throat and she blinked, because for a moment she could see the boy behind the man, and the humour that made him so much more than an aggressively talented billionaire who was feared and respected in equal measure.
‘Imean,’ Alessio said, ‘that most of the women I go out with talk a lot, and in very high, urgent voices. A lot of them seem to feel that their mission should be to cram as many words in as they can before pausing for breath.’
‘That’s mean.’ But she hitched a low laugh.
‘I exaggerate. But only slightly.’
‘They probably talk a lot because they’re trying to impress you.’
‘And of course that’s the last thingyouwould ever think of doing...’
