on her work.
Luca didn’t emerge from his office all morning, and Hannah managed to plough through paperwork until just before lunch, when she needed Luca’s signature on some letters.
She approached his door with trepidation, bracing herself for his hostility.
‘Come in,’ Luca barked after she knocked on the door, and she pushed it open, the letters in her hand.
‘I just need you to sign these,’ she murmured, and Luca beckoned her forward. It was no more than he would have done a week ago, but now the command seemed autocratic and unfeeling. Her problem, she told herself. She had to get over her unreasonable reaction to this man.
She placed the letters on the desk, taking a careful step away as he signed them so she wouldn’t breathe in his cedarwood scent or feel the heat emanating from his powerful body.
‘Here.’ Luca handed her the letters, and his hand brushed hers as she took them. Hannah felt as if she’d been scorched. A tremor went through her body, followed by a wave of helpless longing that she knew she couldn’t disguise. Everything in her yearned to have him touch her again, and this time with intent.
Luca cursed under his breath and heat surged into Hannah’s face. ‘I’m...I’m sorry,’ she muttered, embarrassed beyond belief that her reaction was so cringingly obvious to him. ‘I thought I’d go to lunch if you don’t need me.’ Wrong choice of words. ‘I mean, if there’s nothing you need me to do...in the office...’ Could she make this any worse?
‘I know what you meant,’ Luca answered tersely. ‘Yes, you can go.’
With relief Hannah fled from the room.
* * *
Luca watched Hannah leave his office as if she had the fires of hell on her heels, and let out a weary groan. This was all much more difficult than he’d thought it would be. Much more tempting. The merest brush of Hannah’s hand against his own had made his body pulse with desire, hardly the distraction he needed during the working day.
They’d both settle down, he told himself. Their attraction, without anything to nurture it, would surely fade. Perhaps he’d take a business trip to the US, check on some of his properties in development there. Give them both a chance to cool off. An opportunity to forget.
Except Luca didn’t think he’d ever forget the feel of Hannah’s slender body yielding to his, or, more worryingly, the way she’d held him when he’d been so angry and defeated, the sweet, heartfelt way she’d comforted him. That was something he definitely needed to forget.
Abruptly Luca rose from his desk to stare out at the bustling city streets. He wasn’t used to craving another person’s company or comfort. He’d lived his life alone, ever since his mother had died, battling his way through boarding school and foster care, and even before then, when she’d been too busy or despairing to care for him.
He’d chosen to lift his chin and ignore the taunts and scorn that had been heaped upon him as a bastard growing up fatherless in a remote Sicilian village. He’d pretended the snubs and jibes of the entitled boys at school had bounced off him. He’d always acted as if he didn’t care and he’d almost convinced himself he didn’t...until he’d come face to face with Andrew Tyson, the man who had rejected him once already. His father.
Letting out a shuddering breath, Luca turned from the window. In a week or so Tyson would seal the property deal, and he’d be the owner of the resorts his father’s legitimate children had refused to take on. He’d have control of the inheritance that would have been his, as firstborn son, if Tyson, the alleged family man, had deigned to marry the woman he’d impregnated.
Then he would finally have his revenge.
In the meantime, he needed to get hold of his rampaging libido and shut Hannah Stewart firmly back in the box where she belonged: as his PA, an employee like any other.
* * *
Hannah took an unaccustomed full hour for lunch, walking the streets of the City, trying to talk herself out of this ridiculous reaction to Luca Moretti. She reminded herself of how she used to be with the man, calm and cool and professional. That was how she needed to be again.
She felt more herself when she’d returned to the office, and thankfully Luca was closeted behind a closed door, taking a conference call. Hannah got on with her day and had just about convinced herself that she had this thing under control.
Then Luca opened the door to his office and heat and memory and longing all surged through her body, an unstoppable force.
‘I’m going home for the day, to pack,’ Luca announced. Hannah kept her gaze glued to her computer screen and willed her hands not to tremble.
‘Pack...?’
‘I’m going to America for a week, to check on some of my properties there.’
‘Would you like me to make travel arrangements?’ Hannah asked.
‘No, I’ve taken care of it myself.’ He paused, and Hannah forced herself to meet his iron gaze. ‘This thing between us, Hannah. It will fade.’
Hannah didn’t know whether to be gratified or embarrassed that he was acknowledging it. Was he actually saying that he felt it too, as much as she did? ‘Of course,’ she managed. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t mean things to be awkward.’
Luca shrugged. ‘It never should have happened. I’m sorry it did.’
Ouch. ‘Of course,’ Hannah said stiffly, trying to keep the hurt from her voice. She shouldn’t care. She really shouldn’t.
‘But,’ he continued, his voice and expression both inflexible, ‘you will tell me if there is a result?’
A result? It took Hannah a second to realise he meant a pregnancy. ‘I told you I would. But I don’t think—’
‘Good.’ For a second she thought she saw regret in his eyes, longing in his face. But no, she was imagining it; he looked as hard and unyielding as ever as he nodded once in farewell and then walked out of the office.
* * *
Hannah spent the week trying to get on with her life. She spring-cleaned her house and bought several new outfits and had her hair and nails done, not for Luca Moretti’s sake, but her own. She took Jamie to the cinema and the park on the weekend, and told herself she was blessed in so many ways, and she didn’t need anything more in her life. Certainly not a man who would only break her heart—again.
At least, she discovered a few days after Luca had left, she wasn’t pregnant. The realisation brought relief that was tinged by a little impractical disappointment. Honestly, what on earth would she have done with another baby? It was hard enough being a single mum to one child.
The day Luca arrived back at work she’d dressed carefully in one of her new outfits, a slim-fitting dress in silvery grey silk with a tailored black blazer. She had her hair in a more glamorous chignon rather than her usual practical ponytail, and she felt polished and confident and strong.
Then Luca walked through the lift doors. Hannah’s heart seemed to stop as her gaze swept over him and she noticed the weariness in his eyes, the lines of strain from nose to mouth. She had a nearly irresistible urge to go to him, offer him comfort as she had once before.
And look where that had ended.
‘Hello,’ she said stiffly, turning back to her computer. ‘Welcome back.’
‘Thank you.’ Luca paused by her desk, and Hannah breathed in the spicy male scent of him. ‘Has anything of note happened while I’ve been away?’
‘No, not particularly.’ She’d kept him abreast by email, and even that had felt like too much contact. ‘The post is on your desk.’
‘Thank you.’ Still he didn’t move away, and Hannah tore her gaze away from her computer to look up at him. His gaze locked on and burned