Cathy Williams - The Multi-Millionaire's Virgin Mistress

‘I got my teacher training qualifications,’ she said, stirring coffee into the boiling water and finally turning round to hand him a mug. ‘Then I taught at St Nicks for three years. I moved down to London because Charlotte was working here and I thought it would make a change. I spent a year or so at St Margaret’s, and I started working at Dominic’s school in September.’

‘That’s a very dry, factual account. Why London? The last time I looked there were remarkably few open fields or running brooks, or little cottages with white picket fences.’

‘I decided that I fancied a change from open fields, Alessandro. Maybe you were a little too quick to shove me into the role of the country bumpkin.’ She wasn’t going to tell him how claustrophobic her life had suddenly seemed the second he had walked out of it, how the excitement of teaching in a rural school had been tarnished with the uncomfortable feeling that outside her tiny world lay excitement and adventure. He didn’t deserve to know anything about her.

‘Look, I could embellish it with all the fun things I’ve done in between, Alessandro, but they would mean nothing to you.’

‘Try me.’

‘I’d rather not. I’m tired, and I don’t have the energy.’ Acutely conscious of those dark, fabulous, watchful eyes on her face, Megan took a sip of coffee and stared down at the table.

‘I see you’re still buying those ridiculous bedroom slippers.’

‘Christmas present last year from one of my pupils,’ she said crisply, tucking her feet beneath the table. ‘It’s one of the perks of the job. Lots of bath stuff, candles, picture frames and, in this case, gimmicky slippers.’

‘How long have you lived here?’

‘Since I moved to London.’

‘Is this going to be a question and answer session?’ Alessandro drawled. ‘I ask the questions and you use as few words as humanly possible to answer?’

‘You wanted to find out what I’d been up to and I’m telling you. My life is probably not nearly as fascinating as yours has been, but I love what I do and I’m very happy.’ She drained her cup, then looked at him. ‘How long have you known…Dominic’s mum?’

‘Roughly six months.’

Roughly six months! Less time than he’d been with her . It hurt to think that he must have been bowled over to have moved from dating to engagement in such a brief period of time.

‘Not long. A whirlwind romance?’ She forced a smile. ‘It must be the icing on the cake, Alessandro. I’m very happy for you.’

Alessandro hadn’t thought about it as a whirlwind romance . He had met Victoria when she had been working with her firm of lawyers on one of his deals. He’d liked her, admired her intelligence, and appreciated her ability to respect his ferocious working agenda. Was that romance ? It had certainly been enough for him to take the next step forward, but he had to admit that it was at least partly fuelled by the fact that he wasn’t getting any younger.

Unlike a lot of his city colleagues—men in their thirties, climbing the ladder to success—Alessandro had no intention of remaining a bachelor because of a preference for playing the field. Nor was he going to hang around until he was too old to enjoy playing with his kids. Sure, he had had women, but some restless, dissatisfied urge had always held him back from commitment.

Victoria, he recognised, was undemanding. She had her own high-powered job, and therefore did not look to him for constant companionship. Nor did she nag for assurances about love or any such thing. She worked for him and he, he suspected, worked for her. It was a mutually gratifying situation.

‘Icing on the cake?’ he mused. ‘Yes, I suppose it is….’

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