‘I came from nothing. What’s the point having everything if you forget how to spend what you have? Well? What’s your answer?’
Georgie looked at him narrowly. ‘There’s no such thing as a gesture like that that comes withno strings attached. You might have good intentions, and one thing I’ve realised is that your intentionsaregood, despite my first impressions, but—’
‘But you think that if I buy you an apartment in Mayfair, I’ll be tempted to think that sleeping with me would be on the cards?’
‘Wouldn’t it?’
‘I don’t know. Georgie—’
‘I can’t, Alessandro. I just can’t. I’m not like you. But I appreciate the offer and at least you’re honest. Actually, even if sleeping with youwasn’ton the cards, I wouldn’t accept your offer. Something else I just couldn’t do.’ Underneath the controlled voice, Georgie could feel her heart collapsing on itself. ‘I couldn’t, Alessandro, because it would make me feel…cheap. It would demean everything we’ve had, make me feel as though I was being paid for services rendered.’ She forced a smile but her jaw ached from the effort. She leant into him and curved a trembling hand on his cheek. ‘Let’s not talk about this any more. Let’s just enjoy the time we have left together.’
Three days later Georgie was back at the ski resort. Her nerves were shredded.
But she had her memories. Making love…those last few hours at the park, laughing at Flora zooming higher and higher on a ride she’d been saving for last. Alessandro’s laughter as he scooped Flora up into the air and swung her high until she squealed. The way he’d looked across at Georgie with an expression she couldn’t read…
They’d parted company with a kiss, a chaste, formal kiss while Flora had looked on, holding Alessandro’s hand and wearing an outfit he had bought for her the day before as a souvenir.
‘But when will I see you again?’ Flora had asked, staring up at her with an anxious frown.
‘Soon!’ Georgie had said with forced cheer. ‘As soon as I get to grips with some work issues!’ She’d stooped to Flora’s level, smoothed her velvety purple jumper with its bright pink embroidered Disney character and kissed her on the forehead.
But she’d felt terrible.
Now, after a week, she was back into her routine and plastering a smile on her face while she fudged questions about where she’d been.
‘Getting away from your horrible germs.’ She’d swiped Alison with a tea towel, laughing as they’d cooked dinner together the evening before.
‘I know you had a family thing, Georgie, and you don’t want to talk about it but, seriously…no hot guys in Florida?’
Georgie had quickly changed the subject because immersing herself in a couple of necessary white lies was one thing, expanding on them was another.
She hadn’t heard a word from Alessandro. She was due to clean his house on the Sunday and it was going to take lots of deep breathing, willpower and maybe even smelling salts not to wallow in nostalgia. Did she have it in her? She would find out soon enough.
Right now, though…
It was a little after seven in the evening. She was on her own in the house. Alison and Claire were both out and wouldn’t be back for ages.
As it stood, though, she was in good company. She had her tabloid newspapers and a selection of gossip mags. Maybe they would take her mind off her messy, painful, tortured thoughts.
Curled up on the sofa with a plate of doughnuts she’d bought earlier, a cup of coffee and with the telly playing in the background, it took her minutes to flick past the obligatoryeverything-that-was-wrong-in-the-worldfront pages to the gossip selection in the middle of the paper. Mere minutes before she saw the full-blown image dominating the double spread and, with a sickening lurch in her gut, registered the dramatic headline above it.
Alessandro stared down at the photo of himself in the trashy tabloid his PA had kindly put on his desk the evening before with an apologetic note that he might want to have a look.
He got why.
Being snapped occasionally with a woman on his arm came with the territory. He was a billionaire, he was eligible and, without a trace of vanity, he knew that he was good-looking.
And he went to places a lot of people could only dream of going to. Premieres, exclusive fundraisers, boxes at sporting events where it wasn’t unusual to spot members of the royal family. Paparazzi were drawn to those venues like bees to honey.
But this…was in a league of its own.
He snatched up the paper, stared at the picture of him and his ex-wife for a few grim seconds and then, yet again, scowled at the glaring headlines announcing with salacious glee that a reunion looked as though it was on the cards.
The picture bolstered the headline.
Sophia was clutching his arm and looking up at him with an adoring smile on her face. He, in turn, was staring down at her, half shielding his eyes from the glare of the still cold winter sun in Manhattan.
They were the perfect loved-up couple. Of course, the truth couldn’t have been further from that but…
