Page 39 of A Wedding Negotiation with Her Boss

He spun round, back to the present, and watched with satisfaction as Helen smiled and hugged the elderly couple, her warmth as natural as her gestures of genuine affection.

An extra week in Italy, playing truant for the first time in his life. In truth, Gabriel hadn’t expected his desire to last as long as it had. Or perhaps, he hadn’t expected his desire to last this long without showing visible signs of waning.

There was a big difference here. Even when it came to the hottest woman, he knew that his attention span was sorely challenged.

But with Helen? To see was to want and to want was to want more.

Rome, he’d told her...

‘We can spend a few days there before we return to the grind in London.’

‘I’ve never been to Rome,’ had been her response, to which he had immediately wanted to say that there were a million other cities he could introduce her to, all different but equally captivating.

He’d kept quiet about that, however, because work would beckon in a few days and he wasn’t into making promises he couldn’t keep. A few days’ worth of time out was one thing—but making a list of when those time outs would happen? No way.

He shook hands with Arturio, kissed Isabella on both cheeks and then, when he and Helen were finally in the car slowly driving away from the villa, he turned to her.

‘Change of plan.’

‘Okay.’

Helen sat back against the door, willed herself to relax and looked at him.

The past few days had been just incredible. She had seen her boss for the man he was underneath—the easy charm beneath the driving ambition and the core of steel.

She had seen him overtaken by desire, had seen him relaxed and sated and had watched him sleep, his breathing low and even, the years dropping from him in slumber. She had heard him laugh with genuine amusement, and seen how thoughtful he could be as they had gone from room to room in the sprawling villa and he had listened to Arturio and Isabella’s concerns as the family finances were laid bare. They had welcomed him into their hearts and trusted him the way they would have trusted their own son.

There were sides to him she had only ever guessed at. The only one thing that remained a steady, beating constant was the acknowledgement that he would very soon call it a day and that she would fall in line and accept the inevitable.

What they had, however wonderful it was for her, was living on borrowed time.

He was looking at her now with something approaching gravity and she was already bracing herself.

‘I said that we would go to Rome—’

‘Which isn’t necessary,’ she interjected quickly. ‘I do get it that time flies, and there’s only so long the office can be left.’

‘I happen to have some extremely capable people there who can pick up the slack at a moment’s notice.’

Looking at her, Gabriel wondered if this was the reason he felt so comfortable with this woman, why his attention wasn’t beginning to wander. Was it because she didn’t cling? There was no fear that she would start getting the wrong ideas—ideas about settling down, going to bed with him at her side and waking up with him bringing her a cup of tea. She didn’t want to domesticate him.

For a few seconds, he thought of settling down with her and going to sleep with her just there, within reach. For a few seconds, he accepted that playing the field was no longer how he wanted to spend his time, and Helen...

He felt comfortable with her—frighteningly so.

He frowned.

‘At any rate, I’ve realised that Rome—enjoyable as it is—is painfully crowded during the summer months. Tourists everywhere, swarming like ants over everything.’

‘Yes, I suppose so,’ Helen agreed with a certain amount of wistfulness in her voice.

‘So, instead of Rome, I am proposing somewhere closer to Genoa.’

‘Sorry?’

Gabriel patted the space next to him and waited until she had shuffled from where she was sitting and strapped herself into the middle seat next to him, then he reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper which, as he smoothed it on his thigh, revealed itself to be a map.

‘Old-fashioned, I know. Most people open a map on their phone, but for some reason I’ve always carried this around in my wallet.’

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