Was that what she was now glimpsing?Thereal Raffaele that no one ever saw?
Or was she letting her imagination get the better of her?
Was this stuff he routinely told other people but had never told her because she was his employee? She always suspected that Raffaele only revealed what he wanted to reveal, that he was, at heart, an intensely private man. But maybe he was, in actual fact, the sort who spilled his heart out to every one of those women he hopped into bed with.
Maybe there was nothing he loved more than a bit of post-coital breast beating and emotion sharing.
No.
Her gut told her that the things he’d just told her were feelings he’d probably never shared with anyone and the heat spread through her again.
‘I admit I love what I do and I’ve always been invested in the importance of having financial security…’ Thoughts of her parents and their casual disregard for anything that smacked of putting down roots or planning for a future sprang to her mind. ‘But I’ve always been interested in painting…’
‘Painting?’
‘No need to sound so shocked, Raffaele,’ Erin laughed. She’d barely noticed that they’d been checked through and were now heading to board the plane.
She’d travelled first-class with him before on business trips and every time she’d been impressed all over again by the sheer luxury. The plush bedding, the flat bed, the gourmet à la carte dining and the all the little extras as well, none of which she had ever taken advantage of.
Now, though, as they were shown to their seats, which were side by side and as comfortable as armchairs, Erin barely noticed the opulence around her or the fawning of the good-looking crew eager to hand them flutes of champagne.
As she settled in and half turned to look at him, she felt the thrill of danger zip through her again.
Tomorrow she woulddefinitelyput all this wild curiosity to rest but in the meantime…
Her eyes drifted treacherously to Raffaele’s forearm resting on the wide leather armrest between them. Bronzed, muscled, strong.
She looked away guiltily.
‘I’ve always absolutely loved drawing but with all the travelling we did…’
‘Travelling? What travelling? I always got the impression that the Greek islands and Rhodes was the extent of your travels.’
‘I meant…’ Too late, Erin realised that she was on the verge of sharing way too much.
What was going on here, she thought with a flare of panic? Had she forgotten that Raffaele washer boss? She had worked hard to make sure that boundaries between them were always maintained. She had known from day one that he didn’t tolerate inappropriate behaviour from the women who worked for him. That had suited her fine because she was, by nature, guarded and self-contained.
So what was happening here?
Did she really want to jeopardise her job for the sake of satisfying her curiosity?
Worse, was she beginning to think that because she had shared a little more of herself with Raffaele and because he had said a couple of things abouthimself, that they were somehow striking forth on some kind of relationship? That they were now going to be sharing little confidences and eyeing one another across their laptop computers?
Had shetaken leave of her senses?
She thought about the crush she’d had on him foryears. Had that managed to scramble her brains?
She strapped herself in and reached into her bag for the book she had brought with her, a pointed reminder to herself that she wasn’t here to make incessant small talk and tell him all the ins and outs of her private life.
The thought of having to face him in an office setting after a series of indiscreet confessions filled her with dread.
‘I meant that I’ve alwayswantedto do a lot of travelling, landscape painting. It’s an impractical dream but yes, I suppose if I could have, I might have chosen to study fine art but…’ She shot him a wary look and began opening her book to her bookmarked page. ‘Not many of us have a trust fund to be going on with.’ She smiled at him, one of her practised cool, unrevealing smiles. ‘Do you want to carry on working on the flight over? I know it’s going to be a long one. Or is it okay if I read my book?’
She turned her focus to the page, even knowing that Raffaele was still staring at her. Only when he tilted the book, forcing her to look up, did she meet his amused gaze.
‘What are you reading?’
Their eyes tangled and he grinned. ‘Looks verbose.’
