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Tall, slender, she had skin as pale as alabaster and a wary expression in her brown eyes that spoke of a contained personality.
Why was she so contained? And how was it that someone still in her twenties was willing to take on the full-time role of looking after an old, cantankerous man?
A sudden wave of curiosity threatened to steal a march, and he brought it firmly back to heel.
‘Don’t worry about my feelings, Miss Court,’ he said with exaggerated politeness. ‘I’ve always found that I’m perfectly capable of handling them myself. So my father would rather I did not know of his stroke? He’s proud and likes to think he’s infallible. Sadly, he’s not. What has his consultant said?’
He decided to refrain from telling her that not only should she have immediately told him what had happened, but should also have ensured that he was kept in the loop by his father’s consultant.
‘Well?’ he prompted, when he was greeted with silence.
He felt the stirrings of disquiet. So much water had flowed under that bridge, so many doors had been shut over the years, and yet the thought of losing his father was oddly unsettling. Was it because there had been so many issues that had never been addressed by either of them?
His heart picked up pace and he suddenly sprang to his feet to pace the room, walking jerkily to the window and staring out at the private circular courtyard, which was lit enough for him to make out the exquisite landscaping, the hedges and overhanging trees, the vague shapes of the benches where his employees could choose to relax whenever they wanted.
‘Is he in a critical condition?’ Alessio demanded, raking his fingers through his hair as he spun round to face her.
‘He was in hospital for two nights. He’s back home now.’
Alessio breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Then why this reticence on the subject? You should know that the last time my father had a stroke he waved aside my offers to go to Glenn House, so he has form when it comes to making sure his pride takes precedence over everything.’
Looking at him, Sophie was startled at the bitterness that had crept into his voice. Was he even aware of it?
‘The consultant said that the stroke was very likely caused by stress.’
‘What has my father got to be stressed about?’ Alessio asked, his voice genuinely puzzled.
‘He’s been having financial worries.’
‘I would know if that were true. We don’t talk a great deal, but we do cover the financial markets. He would have said something. No. You must be mistaken.’ He sighed. ‘This is not the right place to be having a conversation of this nature.’
‘It doesn’t matter where we are,’ Sophie told him. ‘I’ll just say what I’ve come to say and then I’ll leave.’
‘It’s nearly six-thirty. Have you eaten today at all? What time did you leave Harrogate?’
He was talking and walking, and Sophie watched in consternation as he began putting on his jacket and then opened a concealed door that faded into the polished walnut panels to extract a coat.
‘I know a wine bar not a million miles away. We can go there. I think I might need a drink for this particular conversation.’
‘What about your work? Your meetings?’
Did shewantto carry on chatting in a wine bar? She was uncomfortable with the idea of that. Maybe even a little panicked, although she wasn’t entirely sure why.
She could understand why he might find it constricting to have an intensely personal conversation with interruptions from his PA and his computer reminding him that there was still work to be done, even though in most normal offices the stampede for the exit would have already begun. It was late, and yet there were no signs that anyone was getting ready to leave. She figured that making money didn’t keep nine-to-five hours. A bit like nursing.
‘I’m the boss,’ he said neutrally, coming to stand directly in front of her, his towering six-foot-three swamping her senses and bringing her out in a fine nervous perspiration. ‘The buck stops with me. If I want to cancel meetings, I can do it. The position of tycoon,’ he said, with wry self-mockery, ‘comes with little perks like that.’
Just like that, Sophie felt her breath leave her in a whoosh and she glanced away quickly, although she could feel the heat in her face as he continued to look at her for a few more seconds before moving away.
She stood up, but her mind was all over the place as she reached for her bag. She’d come with a prepared speech, and all she could think was that she’d somehow been swept away on an unexpected riptide that had not at all been part of her plan.
In no corner of her mind had she anticipated being ushered into a chauffeur-driven Bentley, staring out from behind privacy glass at pedestrians scurrying across packed pavements, and then being swept into a wine bar that was the last word in understated monochrome luxury, with black leather sofas and stark wooden floors and concrete effect walls.
For the whole of the trip Alessio had been on his phone, sometimes switching languages, making sure that his work was covered in his unplanned absence from the office.
It had been a relief, because it had given her time to get her scattered thoughts in order and to remind herself that this was, in essence, a business conversation. Nothing she couldn’t handle.
You can do this, and before you know it, it’ll be another day...
