Anna Cleary - At The Boss’s Beck And Call

The airport was a breeze. Huge, space-age and remarkably easy to navigate for the unseasoned traveller. With Vivi clutching her hand, Lara managed to queue through immigration and retrieve her suitcase, her tremulous excitement mounting with every second. Would he be there?

She and Vivi were waved through Customs unhindered. Emerging into the main concourse, Lara scanned until her eager gaze was captured by a tall, lean, darkly handsome man strolling towards them. As her teary gaze locked with his long stride quickened, then he broke into a run.

He caught both of them in his arms, kissing Vivi, then holding Lara so tight against his chest she could scarcely breathe.

‘Was it terrible?’ He kissed her ruthlessly. ‘Were you afraid, tesoro mio? You were so brave to come. And you, Vivi. Did you sleep? Did you look after your mummy for me?’

After a while of relishing being crushed against his big iron-hard frame and enjoying his clean masculine scent, Lara became conscious that they were blocking one of the exits, and her linen jacket and trousers were in danger of being wrinkled.

With a shaky laugh she disentangled herself from the really quite stimulating embrace.

Some air hosties strolling by, elegantly towing their neat little suitcases, swept Alessandro with admiring glances and raised artfully shaped brows at her. Lara could have sworn she recognised a couple of them from that terrace in Roseleigh Avenue.

She grinned, drew herself up and took Alessandro’s arm. ‘Come, darling.’

Outside the terminal, Alessandro steered them to a waiting limousine while the driver dealt with their bags. Lara and Vivi wilted in a wave of heat to match anything Sydney could turn on in the height of summer. There was no patch of blue. A red angry ball burned through a heavy, sultry haze of smog.

As Alessandro settled them into the car Lara felt grateful for having changed Vivi and herself into cooler clothes.

‘Tonight we sleep here in Bangkok,’ Alessandro said, ‘then tomorrow we fly to an island.’

Vivi’s eyes widened. ‘An island.’

‘Yes, Vivi. An island with white sand and coral, and pretty fish and boats, and the gentlest people on earth.’ He narrowed his eyes in thought. ‘I think there might even be monkeys not too far away.’

‘Monkeys.’

He laughed and kissed her, then reached for Lara’s hand. ‘How I’ve missed this.’

Lara gave him a rueful grin. ‘You’ll get used to our charms pretty fast, I’m afraid, signor.’

‘That’s exactly the point, carissima.’

In the evening of a very long day, which had involved sailing to a beach where monkeys performed audacious and disconcerting acts of mischief on unwary visitors, Alessandro strolled to where Lara was lounging on the verandah of their thatched island home, dreamily gazing out to sea.

He handed her a long, cool, pink drink, then dropped down on the lounger beside her, stretching out his bare, bronzed legs, and leaning back on the cushions.

‘She’s fast asleep.’ His deep voice was rich with satisfaction.

‘Monkeys can be very tiring,’ Lara observed, resting her hand on a muscular, hairy thigh.

He gave a husky laugh. ‘We must remember that in future.’

Lara slanted him a smiling glance. ‘I did warn you.’

‘Yes, you did. But I could never have imagined how fantastic the reality would be.’

‘No, really?’

He kissed her. ‘Yes, really.’

Alessandro had missed shaving that morning, and the dark shadow of his beard gave him a devilish, piratical charm Lara found hard to overlook.

She was silent for a while, listening to the gentle swish and fall of the waves on the beach, dwelling on the supreme happiness of being with a beautiful sexy man who could cook.

‘You know, carissa, I’ve been thinking.’

She lifted her brows.

‘Those MDs we looked at for Stiletto were bloody hopeless.’

‘All of them?’

‘Yes, all. They were all too young, too-too-Half of them looked like cricketers.’

She stared at him in surprise. ‘Is that a bad thing?’

He gazed at her with narrowed eyes and said austerely, ‘We can do better.’

She took a sip. ‘Sounds as if you have someone in mind.’ She glanced at him, and her heart made a wild bounce. ‘Aha. You’re not by any chance thinking…’

‘I am thinking it. It would do that workforce good to have a serious shake-up. How can I trust one of these cowboys to do it? So…’ he twirled a lock of her hair around his finger and gave it a little tweak ‘…that was one of the reasons I needed to fly to Italia. There were arrangements to be made.’

She sat bolt upright. ‘Oh, but that’s-wonderful. So you’ll be staying in Sydney for a while?’ She gazed at him, her heart in her throat, all her irrepressible hopes and dreams rushing madly to the surface.

‘I would like to.’ He smiled and it crept into his dark eyes. ‘I was thinking-until Vivi is finished primary school, at least. Then we might reconsider, if necessary. Half of her heritage is in Europe. I would like her to know the rest of her family. We’ll see how we go. In the meantime, we can take holidays…exchange visits…’

‘Oh.’ Visions of holidays in Venice whirling through her head couldn’t for the moment compete with the one blissful fact. ‘So…you’re staying-with us? Definitely staying?’

He lowered his gaze, and when he looked up again his eyes were serious and grave. ‘Where I stay in Sydney-depends on one thing.’ He took her hands in his firm, light grasp, and took a few seconds to arrange the words. ‘I am so in love with you, Lara. I was hoping, if we spent this little time here, you might feel that the three of us could be together all the time.’

‘Oh.’ Joyful tears sprang into her eyes and she said softly, ‘Sandro, you must know I love you. There’s nothing I would like more.’

His dark eyes lit with a warm, tender glow that matched the joy in her heart. She bent to press her lips to his, and his arm slid around her as he responded with a delicious enthusiasm. After a good long while he broke the tingling connection and set her a little away from him.

‘No, no, don’t tempt me,’ he said, his breathing as ragged as her own. ‘Not yet. Not until we get some things straightened out.’

He changed position so they were both propped comfortably up against the cushions.

His expression was suddenly grave. ‘There is one thing on my mind, tesoro.’ He hesitated. ‘Call me a throwback to mediaeval times, but I do observe some obligations to my family.’ All at once he looked quite stern, like a proud, darkly handsome pirate captain reviewing the past that had shaped his aristocratic heritage. ‘The Vincentis can be flexible about most traditions, but one of them is really quite-uncompromising.’

‘Oh?’ She felt a sudden chill of excitement. A delicious, anticipatory buzz warmed her veins.

He took her hand and kissed it. ‘It’s a small thing, carissima. We Vincentis like to marry our women. It might be seen as an old-fashioned practice in some places, perhaps, but-’ he shrugged ‘-it is-still important to me.’ He dropped a light kiss on her nose and grinned. ‘There isn’t much point being a marchese if you can’t persuade some woman to be your marchesa.’

She laughed. ‘I can’t believe you haven’t had heaps of offers.’

His eyes glinted. ‘There’ve been-one or two who might have been willing. Too willing, in fact. Neither of them was the one.’

‘The one? I know what you mean. No one else will do. And if others are too willing-what a turn-off.’

‘Exactly.’ He smiled. ‘Now, take your case. I’ve had such a hard time catching you, tesoro, I feel I need to pin you down. Somehow, I feel I need to know we are truly together. That it’s permanent.’ He flashed her a glance. ‘Can you understand that?’