Lee Wilkinson - Unwordly Secretary, Gorgeous Boss

‘If you are frightened of storms, my bedroom is just along the corridor from yours, Laura.’

‘I’m not frightened of them,’ she said, slipping out of his grasp and running her hand over her hair.

‘I like them, as a matter of fact! I’m feeling extremely tired all of a sudden … I need to turn in. I’ll see you in the morning.’

‘By the way … Before you go, you will need a gown for tomorrow … something beautiful and elegant to wear. I have asked a good friend of mine who is a designer in Milano to bring a selection for you to choose. I have guessed your size, and I pride myself on having a very good eye for detail.’

Feeling surprise and heat throb through her at the idea that he’d been studying her figure and estimating her size, Laura stared. ‘You didn’t need to do that!’

‘Si … I did. This event is going to be a glittering, fashionable affair, and I would not have my hostess for the evening dressed in anything less than haute couture!’

‘Yes, but I wish you’d mentioned all this before, Fabian. I don’t think I’m entirely comfortable with the idea of being on show—not to mention standing up in front of all those important people and announcing the performers! That’s definitely something I didn’t expect!’

‘You seem to persist in wanting to hide yourself!’ His tone exasperated, Fabian glowered. ‘Your body, your talent … What else will you try to hide from me, Laura?’

Immediately thinking of Mark—of why he had crashed their car that dreadful night—Laura felt her blood suddenly run as cold as the grave, and her hand visibly shook as she smoothed it down over the front of her cream top.

‘Goodnight, Fabian.’ She brushed past him before he could try and waylay her.

‘LAURA? This is my good friend Dante Pasolini. He has brought some gowns for you to try on.’

Persuading Laura away from work this morning had not been easy, Fabian found. Certainly her dedication and conscientious approach to the task in hand was not to be faulted, yet he could hardly suppress the impatience that arose inside him at her reluctance to even look at the beautiful dresses that Dante had selected at Fabian’s request. Now, as she stretched out her hand to greet the older man, she was clearly taken aback when the stylishly dressed Maestro of Italian haute couture kissed her soundly on both cheeks, then held her away from him, so that he could run his expert gaze up and down her figure.

‘But she is perfect, Fabian!’ he announced in English. ‘Like a young Grace Kelly! You have made my task very easy today. Come, signorina —my Aladdin’s Cave of exquisite delights awaits you! AQ 21Fabian, per favore, wait here and we will present my selection to you one by one.’

Immediately Fabian saw how uncomfortable Laura was with this idea—but he would not accede to her discomfort and go away. He was just like any other Italian when it came to beautiful things, and he was intrigued to see this private little fashion parade Dante had in store. So he took up residence in a high-backed armchair in the luxurious salon that overlooked the blaze of elegant white marquees glinting in the sunshine, and ignored Laura’s silent plea.

There was a small vestibule, and then another room leading off that, which was where Dante had set up his rail of stunning dresses. As he watched the two of them disappear, Fabian mulled over the coming concert, sensing the old resentment towards his father return. He should have brought the event to an end a long time ago because of the distress it caused him, but he’d resisted because of the substantial amounts of money it raised for the children’s hospice. If it weren’t for that, it would no longer be the one uncomfortable sticking point in his calendar.

He wasn’t afraid of not carrying out to the letter the instructions in Roberto’s will. After all … what could his despotic tyrannical spirit do? Haunt him from the grave? Yet after their visit to the hospice, and engaging with those incredible children again, Fabian knew he would not call a halt to the yearly concerts. Scraping his hand resignedly through his hair, he turned his mind instead towards the future for a moment. With a sudden great yearning he thought about what his own children would be like when he became a father. He did not doubt they would help bring more meaning and purpose to his life … something he had been craving for a very long time. Work, money, admiration—these were empty pursuits in comparison, and the satisfaction in all of them momentary and fleeting.

Caught up in his thoughts, it took him a couple of seconds to register the fact that Dante was at the door gesturing to him with what was definitely a worried expression on his face. In a torrent of concerned Italian, the older man told him what was the problem. His stomach gripped with disquiet, Fabian followed him back into the room he had just vacated.

Laura stood at the tall Palladian window with her back to him. She was dressed in a full-length scarlet backless gown that displayed to perfection the long slim lines of her body, notwithstanding the feminine curves that were the epitome of grace rather than voluptuous. For a moment he was spellbound. With her soft halo of bright hair and pearlescent skin, he knew she would elicit many appreciative admiring gasps in such a gown. Yet as he moved towards her he could tell that she was deeply upset. Thinking of what his friend had told him, he took a steadying breath.

‘Laura?’

‘This is far too revealing,’ she said, in a voice thickened by emotion. ‘I couldn’t possibly wear such a dress in public.’

Laying his hands on her shoulders, Fabian slowly made her turn round to face him. ‘My only wish is that you feel beautiful in whatever gown you ultimately choose. I would not wish for one moment for you to wear anything that makes you remotely ill at ease,’ he reassured her, registering the tears that glistened in her eyes like a punch. Then, because she had her arms held in front of her chest, her hands clenched in front of her breastbone, he dropped his gaze there and said gently, ‘Show me.’

Hesitantly she lowered her arms, and Fabian was confronted by the cruel scarring that violated the soft pearly skin between her breasts. Protest at the wicked desecration was arising passionately inside him, but he could not find the words to express his emotion right then.

‘It was caused by a jagged piece of metal in the crash … the same as here.’ She touched her hand briefly to her forehead. Clearing her throat, she formed her lips into an anxious little smile. ‘I’m sorry, Fabian … I’d hardly make the kind of impression I expect you’d like in these beautiful gowns. I should have told you about this yesterday.’

‘Do not blame yourself. I hardly gave you a chance, did I?’

‘This does not have to be the end of the world, no?’ Suddenly Dante was beside them both, his expressive face enthused with renewed purpose. ‘I am not known as the maestro for nothing! I have accessories that can create magic better than any illusionist! And I have brought other less revealing gowns that will be equally stunning on the beautiful Laura, and will not make her self-conscious about these silly little scars! Life deals us all blows, signorina,’ he said with a glint of moisture in his sable eyes. ‘Some visible, some not so. But we do not have to let them destroy our ability to enjoy the beauty in life … si?’

Briefly meeting Fabian’s concerned glance, Laura wiped at her own tears, then smiled without restraint at the other man who stood there. For a disconcerting instant Fabian sensed his heartbeat quicken at the gesture.