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to, for the sake of…everything.’ She drew herself up, determined to do just that. ‘Is there anything you need from me today?’
Alessandro stared at her for a long, hard moment, a muscle ticking in his jaw. ‘I’m going to write a letter to all of Dillard’s clients,’ he said at last. ‘You can take it down and then show me a draft copy.’
Mia’s heart tumbled in her chest as she felt a weird mix of relief and disappointment that she didn’t want to understand. Alessandro was doing what she wanted…trying to act normal. ‘Very good,’ she said, and turned from the room to get her laptop.
A few minutes later Alessandro was sitting behind his desk and Mia was in front of it, the laptop opened on her knees, her fingers poised on the keyboard, as professional a look as she could manage on her face. This was going to work. She was going to make this work.
She was not going to think about how Alessandro had felt or smelled or tasted, how she’d come apart in his arms and was still desperately trying to put herself together. She wasn’t. She absolutely wasn’t.
And yet the memories still bombarded her as Alessandro began dictating the letter. It took all her mental power, all her energy and willpower, to focus on the words forming on the screen in front of her instead of what had happened between them last night.
It will get better, Mia told herself. The memory will fade.
This was going to work.
This wasn’t working.
Alessandro couldn’t keep from the glaringly obvious fact as he dictated his letter to Mia. Twice he had to start over, correcting himself, because he was hopelessly distracted by the sight of her, looking as prim and proper as you please, yet still, amazingly, seeming sexy to him.
That tight topknot made him long to pluck the pins from it and run his fingers through the spill of straight, wheat-gold hair. The crisp grey blouse with the mother-of-pearl buttons seemed to be begging to be undone, button by tiny button. The crisp navy suit would look far better crumpled on the floor.
‘Mr Costa?’ Her voice, crisp and precise, broke into his scattered thoughts. ‘You were saying…?’
‘I think, considering the circumstances, you should call me Alessandro.’
Something sparked in her eyes. ‘I do not wish to consider the circumstances, and I didn’t think you did, either.’
‘I meant,’ Alessandro clarified, ‘as your employer.’ But he hadn’t been thinking of her as his employee. Not at all.
A faint pink touched Mia’s cheeks, making her look all the more delectable. Making him want her all the more. ‘Of course,’ she murmured, and turned towards back to her laptop, her gaze focused determinedly on the screen.
Alessandro went back to dictating the letter, but again he lost his train of thought, which infuriated him. This was not who he was. This was not who he could be.
‘Mr… Alessandro?’ Mia prompted. Again. Her eyebrows were raised, her eyes so very blue.
‘Type up what you have,’ Alessandro said abruptly. ‘And I’ll look at it then. Thank you.’
Wordlessly Mia nodded, rising from her seat in one elegantly fluid movement. Alessandro couldn’t keep from watching her as she left the room, noting her long, slim legs in sheer tights, the low navy pumps. As far as he was concerned, she could have been wearing a negligee and stiletto heels. Her staid, puritanical outfit still enflamed him, and that was most definitely a problem.
The door clicked shut softly behind her, and Alessandro swivelled in his chair, too restless to get back to his work, although he certainly had plenty to do. He needed to weed through Dillard’s clients and decided which ones were worth keeping. He needed to woo the clients he wanted to stay on and make sure that they did. And he needed to find positions for the employees he intended on keeping, and offer redundancy packages to the ones he didn’t.
Which made him think of Mia. He’d intended on keeping her in the office for at least another week, to help smooth the transition period, but that thought felt like torture now. He could at least check on the details for her eventual transfer, to make sure it happened as easily and quickly as possible.
He was always generous with his offers, and so he would be with Mia. It made the most sense. It filled him with relief, that he could be proactive about arranging her inevitable transfer. All it would take were a few phone calls.
Alessandro felt his shoulders loosen at the thought of being free of this alarming obsession he’d developed—and over someone so unprepossessing. He’d been with women, many women, who were far more attractive and alluring than Mia James, with her straight hair and English schoolgirl looks. What was it about her that affected him so much, drove him to such irritating distraction?
It didn’t matter. His involvement with Mia James was thankfully going to come to an end. He was just reaching for the phone to make the first call when a knock sounded on the door.
‘Yes?’ he barked.
‘It’s Miss… Mia. May I speak to you?’
After a second’s hesitation he put the phone down. ‘Come in.’
She slipped into the office, her blue eyes looking crystal-bright as she met his gaze, a hint of determined challenge to the tilt of her chin.
‘I wanted to speak to you.’
‘About?’
She angled her chin a bit higher. ‘I’d like to request a transfer.’
Shock rooted him to the spot, the phone dangling from his hand. ‘A what?’
‘A transfer. I don’t think it is prudent for us to work together. You mentioned that you found positions for your employees when possible, so I’m asking for you to find me one.’ Her eyes blazed as they met his. ‘Somewhere preferably not in London.’
She wanted to be shot of him, Alessandro realised dazedly. Just as he wanted to be shot of her…so why did the thought rankle so much?
‘Where is this coming from?’ he asked, even though he knew. Of course he knew.
‘Where do you think?’ she returned sharply. ‘You mentioned my usefulness as your PA would only be for so long.’
‘But it’s not finished yet,’ he returned, surprised and a bit alarmed by his own annoyance. He’d been planning this very thing, and yet absurdly he resented her suggesting it first.
‘I think it is finished,’ Mia answered levelly, her tone brooking no disagreement. And, despite the instinctive, gut-level reaction that he had to argue with her, even to insist that she stay, Alessandro held his tongue. Mia wanted what he wanted. Surely he wasn’t so pig-headed as to resist simply because it was now her idea rather than his?
‘There are two possibilities, actually,’ he said after a moment. ‘I was looking into them myself, for this very eventuality.’
‘I’m sure you were,’ Mia returned dryly and Alessandro had the uncomfortable feeling she’d known what he’d been thinking, and had simply pre-empted him. ‘The first is as personal assistant to the CEO of the Arras Hotel Group, based in Los Angeles,’ he said. ‘It’s a property company I acquired two years ago, running luxury hotels on America’s west coast.’
‘Los Angeles…’ She nodded slowly. ‘And the other?’
‘Personal assistant to the CEO of a tech company in Sweden. Or, if you prefer, you can take the standard redundancy package. You’ll find I’m very generous.’
‘I’m sure.’
‘I’ll get you the details of both positions.’ He leaned down to his laptop, and a few clicks later he’d