‘Why are you still in bed? We’re supposed to be leaving in half an hour!’
Alessandro reached out and fumbled on the bedside table for his phone and began shrugging off the covers.
‘No!’
‘No?’
‘Are youwearing anything?’
‘I can’t believe how late it is.’
‘You look awful, Alessandro.’
Her voice had gone from sharp to hesitant and she took a careful step forward and felt his forehead and then sprang back.
‘You’re burning up!’
‘That’s impossible.’ He began to push back the covers, registering another horrified squeal from her, and immediately fell back onto the mattress.
‘You’re ill.’
‘I’m never ill.’ He looked at her balefully.
She was dressed and raring to go in something that was, thankfully, a little more suited to the weather and the occasion. Some pale jeans, a cute orange and green tee shirt that clung to her slender body like some very fetching cling film, and plimsoles.
She looked fresh and young and sexy.
Alessandro recognised that he was lodging all these details in his head even though he felt like crap and yes, like it or not, he was burning up.
‘I’m never ill,’ he repeated in a futile attempt to deny the obvious.
‘Wait a minute while I check on Flora. In the meantime, I’ll bring you some tablets. I always carry a first-aid kit with me. Habit. You’re to take the tablets and then wait till I decide what to do with you.’
‘Are you givingmeorders?’
‘Yes!’
She turned away but, before she left the room, she said over her shoulder in a voice that brooked no argument, ‘And keep yourself suitably covered! I’ll be back in a minute.’
She ran in to check on Flora, told her that her dad wasn’t well but maybe best not to go in just yet, wait till he was feeling a little better, and that she could go check the fridge and help herself to some juice.
‘By the way,’ she added, before disappearing, ‘I love the choice of outfit!’
‘You do?’
Flora beamed, although her little face was anxious about Alessandro. She’d packed her mini backpack and Georgie didn’t have much trouble guessing what would be in there. Activities and maybe a favourite toy.
She was a quiet, serious, methodical little kid and Georgie wondered whether that was her way of dealing with a chaotic background with a mother willing to play tug of war with her and a dad who had been denied access for many months and before then? Who knew?
Alessandro was a workaholic. He adored his daughter but did he let his hair down when he was with her? Laugh and fling her in the air and play ball and try and braid her hair when there was no one else around to do it?
Or were those activities reserved for the nannies?
Having told herself that she wasn’t going to be drawn into the family drama because it was one she would be leaving behind in a matter of days, she was now being drawn in.
She shook her head with frustration, ran to fetch some water and two minutes later she was back in Alessandro’s room to find him sitting up and looking like death warmed up.
‘Okay. I give in. You’re right. I’m not well. This has never happened to me before. Where is Flora?’
