'What else could there be to say, Angelo? You can congratulate yourself on taking away my pride. Now the scores are finally even.'
Angelo flushed darkly, not liking the way that sounded, but knowing that she had every right to level the accusation.
'Poor Georgina. No wonder she came storming into my house. You took away hers as well, Angelo. Does that make you feel good?'
'No. No, it doesn't,' he said grimly. 'Her consolation is that she is well rid of me. She would have had a miserable marriage.'
'Big of you. I'm sure she's feeling very consoled already when she thinks about that.'
'Dammit, Francesca!' He ran his hands through his hair and stood up abruptly, pushing the chair back.
'I know. Horrible, isn't it? Having a woman answer you back. I may have changed in three years, Angelo, but I haven't changed that much. I still speak my mind. Oh, I forgot, that's one of the reasons I was so unsuitable.'
'But one of the reasons why you fire me up.' He came to stand by her and leaned down so that his face was inches away from hers. 'Georgina never fired me up.'
'And I'm supposed to feel flattered by that?' She felt her pulses quicken as she breathed him in, that unique, male scent with just the merest hint of aftershave that sent her senses soaring. She gulped and wished that she had left when she had the chance. Now she would have to push him out of the way to get past and she didn't want to touch him, didn't trust herself.
'Just like I feel flattered that you slept with me even when you thought that I was engaged to another woman. So you see, the scores are even.'
'Don't do that.'
'What?'
'Twist things around.'
'Is that what I'm doing? Or am I only being utterly truthful? I wanted you, Francesca, even when I was engaged to be married. Against all odds. That's saying something, isn't it?'
'What is it saying, Angelo?' Her breath caught in her throat at the expression in his eyes as they darkened.
'That we're still attracted to one another after all this time and despite all the water that's flowed under the bridge.' He straightened up, giving himself time to get his act together and his raging body time to cool down. 'Let's finish this in the sitting room. Kitchen chairs are too uncomfortable for a full and frank discussion about how much we still want each other.'
Francesca stood up and heard herself mumble a weak refusal which he ignored, taking her hand instead and leading her out of the kitchen and into the sitting room.
It seemed the most natural thing in the world for her fingers to be entwined in his. Years ago, they used to walk like this, hand in hand, enjoying everything life had to offer. But this was now and it amazed her to find that it still felt good to be holding his hand, even though so much bad feeling stood between them. It hardly seemed possible but here she was, allowing herself to be led towards the sitting room. Away from the front door.
Sunshine poured into the sitting room and Angelo went to the windows and half closed the wooden shutters, immediately reducing the bright light to subdued strips that accentuated the deep, warm colours in the room.
Francesca had moved to the sofa and he joined her there. His fingers still tingled from where hers had been touching them. Crazy, the sexual chemistry that still existed between them.
'I meant what I said about … both of us having changed and I have a proposition for you.' He leaned forward, arms resting lightly on his thighs, and linked his fingers together.
'What kind of proposition?'
'The kind that acknowledges what we have and what we can't fight against.' His voice was calm, cool and controlled. Francesca fought to follow suit. 'An arrangement of sorts,' he said conversationally. 'One of a passionate nature. Passion with no strings attached. I never expected us to run into each other again and I certainly never expected that I would still be attracted to you, but we did and I am and you feel the same way.'
'You don't know what I feel, Angelo.'
'Oh, but I do.' He relaxed back and crossed his legs. Sexy, elegant and composed. 'Actions speak so much louder than words.'
'What would be the point?' Suddenly she couldn't sit still any longer. Nor could she withstand the shuttered steadiness of his gaze. She walked jerkily across to the bay window and perched on the ledge, wrapping her arms around her. How could he sit there and discuss them sleeping together as nonchalantly as if he was discussing the weather? 'You would want it to lead somewhere, wouldn't you? Isn't that what you said all those years ago?'
'What happened years ago is an irrelevance. It's what's happening now that matters. We want each other. Sufficient for me to break off my engagement, sufficient for you to sleep with me when your head was telling you not to.' He shrugged. 'I'm looking for nothing from you and you want nothing from me. Beyond the obvious.'
'It's crazy.'
'Come and sit back down.'
'What difference will that make?'
'Come and sit back down.'
She would have made for one of the chairs but that would have looked cowardly, so she stuck her chin up and sat next to him, face averted.
'Look at me. Unless, of course, you're too scared to do that.'
'Scared? Why should I be scared?' She faced him with a glare and sank straight into the fathomless depths of his black eyes. It really was a drowning sensation.
'Feel it?' he murmured, making no move to get closer to her, just watching her.
'No! Feel what?'
'That undercurrent that runs between us. It's irresistible, Francesca. That's why I think we should continue seeing one another, sleeping with one another, and this time we'll both know the boundaries and won't overstep them.'
'And if I say no? Which,' she added hurriedly, 'I will.'
'Then you leave. It's as simple as that. You know where the front door is. But I hope you don't.' He reached out and lazily coiled one finger into her hair, twining it round into a spiral before letting it drop.
But I hope you don't. She knew what she ought to do. Faced with a pool of quicksand yawning by her feet, she just had to turn around and walk away across solid land to safety. Nothing could ever come of anything between them.
But for just a little while she could have some stolen happiness. The past three years had been a wasteland. She had thrown everything into her career and enjoyed it, but the emotional side of her that had needed tending had been allowed to grow into a wilderness through lack of care.
'What you're proposing is … preposterous, primitive … '
'I'm a primitive man but never preposterous. What I am proposing is a solution.'
He stroked his finger along her collar-bone and Francesca sighed.
'And how long until this solution becomes redundant?' she asked quietly.
'Who knows? How long is a piece of string? All we know is that we will be able to satisfy our hunger for one another and then we will move on to find our proper destinies.'
'I can't believe I'm actually sitting here having this conversation with you, Angelo.' She eyed the door. 'I thought you were just making time to hear my gripes. Don't you have important meetings to rush off to?'
'Oh, nothing that I can't put on hold if I need to. Consider the day yours if you're brave enough to take the plunge.'
She stood up and he hooked his fingers around her wrist and with a little tug pulled her back down, in a tangle on his lap, laughing as she stared up at him with affronted eyes, laughing and sure of himself, of her.
She was clear-headed only for the length of time that it took for his mouth to find hers and, when it did, she sank into the kiss like a drowning man finding land. She felt the thrust of his tongue against hers and groaned when his hands curved beneath the formal white shirt, pushing it up until he was cupping her breast, feeling its weight through the lacy bra.
Then he was sliding down on the sofa, taking her with him and fumbling with the small buttons of her blouse. Now the shirt was finally off. Getting his own off was considerably quicker, especially as he didn't give a hoot if he ripped a few buttons off in the process. He just wanted her naked and on top of him.
Although there was a lot to be said for watching her luscious breasts in that sexy, low-cut lacy bra. As if reading his mind, or maybe reading his mind was just something she could do, she raised herself up, dangling her breasts over him and smiling when, with a little growl of impatience, he scooped them out of their constraints so that he could lower one pouting nipple into his mouth.
'Kinda sexy making love to a semi-clothed business woman,' he murmured roughly and Francesca made a noise halfway between a laugh and a moan as his mouth continued to circle her tightened bud.
He sucked on the moistened circle, pulling it deep into his mouth, and ran his hands along her thighs and up her skirt until he could loop his fingers over the elasticated waist of her underwear, which he proceeded to pull down, allowing her to squirm her way out of them completely.