They were supposed to be meeting Felipe—not someone called Edoardo. Definitely notthisEdoardo.ThisEdoardo was Edo and he worked on a vineyard in Tuscany. Outdoors. Which was why he had a full body tan and seriously fit muscles and slightly callused hands. He had nothing to do withinsurance. He shouldn’t have a suit that made him look every bit as sexy as when he’d been half-naked. He should be on some hill in the Italian countryside seducing all the other tourists he took to that pond.
‘Phoebe?’ George prompted. ‘Are you going to sit down?’
What?Oh.Yes. She was going to snap her mouth shut too. She sank into the last empty seat—directly across from his—and couldn’t stop staring. Deep-brown eyes locked on hers for a scant second before his focus dropped to the paperwork in front of him—not a flinch, not a gasp, not a flicker of recognition.
Maybe—please, please, please, to all the deities—maybe he didn’t recognise her. Or maybe he’d had so many lovers since, he’d forgotten all about her. Better still, maybeshewas mistaken. Maybe this guy was Edo’sdoppelganger?
Yeah, no.He looked identicalandhad the same first name. She’d never found out his surname. It hadn’t mattered when it had been a perfect fever dream. She’d not tried to find him on social media. She’d kept it a treasure—close and secret. She’d not even told her best friends. Elodie had been away, Bethan had been busy at work. Phoebe had also been busy with her new job but determined to stay on her self-care plan. In fact, she’d recklessly splurged the last of her funds on a pretty ring at the airport when leaving Italy to remember that feeling of freedom and fulfilment. She’d chosen to wear it on her wedding ring finger—where Ryan’s had once sat—as a proud reminder that she needed no man to buy her anything. She could get what she wanted and needed all by herself.
Okay yes, it hadalsobeen to remember that very particular moment she’d had on the Tuscan hill side, but it turned out she didn’t need the memento because she’d thought about himeverynight since. At first it had been so seared in her mind she’d struggled to sleep, but since she’d dived deep into work at her new job she now slept like the dead. In fact, she’d snooze past a full twelve hours if she didn’t set a billion alarms on her phone. But she still saw his face just as she fell asleep—and every night felt a tiny, terrifying fear that nothing and no one else could ever compare to that moment. The most incredible sex of her life. The most fun afternoon of her life. No wonder she couldn’t stop staring at him now.
As George introduced everyone, Edo made direct eye contact and nodded to each person. Phoebe’s nerves tightened as her turn neared. He barely glanced at her, the split-second he did, his gaze was brutally cold. The iciness hit harder than when he’d literally knocked her down on a back country road in Italy. Not that it mattered, because sensationscaldedher.
It was just like that day—she had a weird loss of co-ordination and hearing as once again the visuals overloaded her brain and short-circuited everything else. And then, to make everything worse, memories overwhelmed her—she’d trailed her hand down his sternum, tested his muscles, tickled him just because she could. They’d hadfun. Heat suffused her as she remembered clinging to him as he moved inside her, pleasuring her to the point where she could no longer speak. They’d doneeverythingand then some.
It hadn’t been enough. She wanted more—
Her mouth was now drier than the Sahara and she couldn’t swallow, let alone say anything. She reached for the nearest glass but completely underestimated how much her hand was shaking and instead of sipping like a normal human, she spilled it. The iced water splattered across her blouse—specifically across her left breast.
Could it get any worse?
Actually, yes. Because her blouse was white and the wet patch turned transparent. Worse, Phoebe had gained a little weight lately—still indulging in all things Italian. Namely pasta and gelato. So her boobs were popping over the top of her bra cups and now her all but sheer shirt had her turned on nipples on display for everyone to ogle whether they wanted to or not.
Could she die now? Quickly. Completely. Turn to ash.
Naturally she didn’t. And she didn’t have her blazer with her to cover up. She’d been in a hurry picking up that stuff from the printer because Megan hadn’t been able to fix the jam. Phoebe was good at sorting sticky situations. She was cool and calm under pressure. Not this time. It was too much to hope that no one would notice. There was total silence in the room and she felt the squirming second-hand embarrassment of her colleagues.
She put her hand up to cover herself and risked a glance in his direction. He’d looked down but his expression was now thunderous. The ambient temperature plummeted twenty degrees. Which made her shiver. Which then caught his attention. This time it was for a timeless second that she stared right into his dark brown eyes again. Every memory flashed. Every muscle melted. He was still insanely good-looking. Still mesmerising. Still set her libido on fire even when he glared at her like this. And she was sure he’d just read her mind and knew what she was thinking about, and now he looked even more grim.
‘Thank you for the introductions, George.’ Edoardo broke away and ended the awkward silence. ‘I look forward to getting to know you all.’ He glanced around the table again but skipped Phoebe entirely. ‘Unfortunately Felipe has been delayed so I’m here for a brief transition period until he’s able to get here.’
How long was ‘brief’?Please be a single day. Please let this man board a plane and head back to his company’s headquarters this afternoon.
‘As I’m sure you know, our focus at EDB is insurance and reinsurance. We also specialise in risk management.’
The senior analysts nodded, looking galvanised. Phoebe picked up a pen and pretended to take notes. After all, that was what she was here for.
‘While we’re based in Milan, we have offices around the globe.’ He cleared his throat. ‘As with any integration, there will be a transformation period, but we’ve pursued an aggressive acquisition strategy for some time, so rest assured we know what we’re doing. Disruption and staffing restructure will be expedient and ideally minimal.’
Staffing restructure.
Phoebe tensed, her worst fears confirmed. He was powerful. An apparent master ofaggressive acquisition strategy—what, like the way he conquered women? Poor George having to see his life’s work swallowed up by one man’sstrategy. Her anger brewed as he smiled at the others. He was arrogant. Greedy. Disingenuous. He was supposed to be avineyardworker. She couldn’t trust the promise he’d just made. Especially when he didn’t so much as glance at her again. Their shared moment was a liability. There was clearly no chance they were going to be able to laugh about it, but they should be able todealwith it. Have one conversation then never mention it again—just forget about it completely.
Only she’d already tried to forget and very much failed. And now she was utterly on edge, her bodyaching. All she had to do was look at him and it happened—reckless lust.
But she had a mortgage to pay and while Bethan’s rent helped, money was tight. Phoebe was still paying back student debt from the degree she’d aborted in order to support Ryan andhiscareer. Their divorce had left her worse off in so many ways. That holiday to Italy had been her first ever self-indulgent splurge. So she was not losing this job—especially not because of a man. She’d destroyed her future for a guy once already and she wouldn’t do it again—she simply couldn’t afford to.
* * *
Edo unfastened the top button of his shirt and ran his finger around the collar but loosening it didn’t ease his strangled feeling. Nor did the back of his neck cool from the exposure to more air. He stalked to the window, wrestling with the diabolical nightmare that Phoebe Copeland, the supposedly superstar personal assistant George had raved about for weeks, washisPhoebe. His snowdrop—looking particularly snowy today, it had to be said. Frigid perfection in that white blouse, grey trousers, her long hair half hidden in a neat low ponytail—a world away from the vibrant summer temptress he’d tumbled with.
His innards had ignited when she’d walked in and then memories hadn’t been the only thing to surge. It had been a complete brain and body response to her shining blue eyes and porcelain skin. She wasn’t supposed to bemorebeautiful than he remembered—than he dreamed night after night—yet here she was, unequivocally stunning, as if she’d been dipped in a dust that had enhanced every feature. He’d not trusted himself to speak. Not trusted his own body. But as the shock receded, complications clamoured in his brain. And then she’d splashed water on her blouse.
Worst torture imaginable.
He’d almost leapt to her aid but had seen her instant mortification. Had they been alone, he could have helped. Could have teased her. Could havetouched. One look and he’d been right back to lust-a-thon. But they hadn’t been alone—they’d been in abusinessmeeting—there could be no touching. It had been horrific.
He’d dragged up self-control and relied on muscle memory to deliver the introductory spiel he’d given many times. He’d not trusted himself to look at her again, certainly not smile. But he’d seen her anger flash while he’d detailed his company credentials. When he’d mentioned some smoothing of the company restructure, she’d gone tense. Which had set him on edge too.
