His secretary met her at the doors of the lift and said, with sweeping understatement, ‘You’re not Miss Thompson.’
‘I need to see Angelo and I’m afraid I borrowed Miss Thompson’s name to get up here.’ His secretary had the sort of face that looked as though it responded well to honesty. ‘I’m Francesca Hayley and I am…was…’ Was the broken engagement public knowledge?
‘The caterer. May I ask what your business here is, Miss Hayley?’
‘Of a personal nature.’
There was a few seconds of silence, then the woman nodded. ‘He has half an hour before his next meeting…I suppose I could let you see him…’
His office was at the very end of the elegant, expensive suite of offices. They passed thick wooden doors discreetly shut, behind which Francesca glimpsed the mechanisms of big business in operation.
Then they were at Angelo’s door, which was open, although the connecting door that led directly to his office was shut.
‘I would prefer to surprise him,’ she murmured to the secretary, but that was taking good luck too far. She was shown in, although, when the door was quietly shut behind her, it was as good as a surprise because he was standing with his back to her, looking out of the window down to the matchstick people walking around outside.
‘I cannot imagine what you want, Georgina,’ he said, seemingly captivated by the view outside. ‘I have said all there is to say.’
‘Well, I haven’t,’ Francesca said. That brought a response. He spun around sharply. ‘In fact, I’ve only just begun, Angelo.’ She stepped forward. ‘Why didn’t you tell me that you had broken off your engagement with Georgina?’
‘This is neither the time nor the place for a personal confrontation.’
’Conversation.’
‘Whatever you want to call it.’ He shrugged, looking at her, and used his intercom to tell his secretary to cancel his meetings for the morning. Taking time off work, something he never did, had never seemed so enticing. He had spent the past couple of days wondering what in hell he was doing. He had broken off his engagement, which he could see now had been a good thing, but still…would he have broken it off had it not been for the reappearance of Francesca in his life? Now he had slept with her and, like a man with an appetite not yet sated, he wanted more. But what for? He would never again make the mistake of offering her a relationship and he had already proved to himself that he could have her. Now she was standing in front of him like an avenging angel and his blood soared with wild elation.
‘Did you plan on getting me into bed when you came round to my house?’ Francesca asked bluntly, watching him as he grabbed his jacket.
‘I told you. We’ll discuss this out of my office.’
‘Why? In case I throw a hissy fit and all your buddies come running to see what’s going on?’
Angelo paused and looked at her. ‘Now, why do you imagine that I would care what all my buddies think of me? You seem to forget that I own all of them. Who told you about the engagement?’
‘Oh, I had a personal visit from your ex-fiancée. It seems she was a little less than impressed that you’d spent months leading her up the garden path only to cast her aside because, apparently, of me.’
Angelo shot her a cool smile. ‘Georgina needs a reality check. How did she find out about you? I never mentioned it.’
‘Jack.’
‘Ah. The boyfriend that never was. Come on. We’ll continue this somewhere else.’
‘I don’t want to continue this somewhere else.’
Angelo approached her, his face a grim, unsmiling mask. ‘Let’s get one thing straight, Francesca. You are not throwing a tantrum in my office. You will either leave with me now, and be grateful for the fact that I am making a space in my very packed diary to accommodate you and whatever gripes you seem to have, or you will leave.’
She sighed heavily and acquiesced, maintaining a steady silence until they were out of the building.
‘Where are we going?’
‘Somewhere more private than an office block.’ He hailed a taxi, leaned in to the window to give the driver an address, while Francesca scrambled into a seat and waited, bristling, for him to join her.
She opened her mouth to talk and his mobile rang. While she continued to bristle he spoke into his phone, not looking at her. A long, detailed conversation to do with work. She might as well have been invisible.
Loosely translated, his behaviour was spelling out what she had already suspected. Angelo had made love to her, but not because he cared about her. Years ago he had cared about her, truly cared. Now he just wanted her. She also had to face the cruel fact that her anger was all about the stark truth that she had made love to him and her heart had opened out and welcomed him in, had been waiting in some foolish way for him to return.