The Boss's Valentine. Lynne GrahamЧитать онлайн книгу.
had been no spark whatsoever on his side of the fence.
‘And I had to sit back and watch you chasing girls who couldn’t hold a candle to me,’ Jenna continued with withering bite.
‘Oddly enough, I don’t recall you sitting home alone many nights,’ Santino countered sardonically.
‘Once I understood that I was in love with a commitment-phobe, I trained myself to regard you only as a friend—’
‘Jenna…when you first met me, I was eighteen. Most teenage boys are commitment-phobes.’ Santino groaned, thinking what an absolute pain she seemed to have become, still nourishing her sense of injustice over the unwitting blow he had dealt to her ego so many years after the event. ‘I was no better and no worse than most—’
‘Oh, don’t be so modest,’ Jenna trilled in sharp interruption. ‘All the girls were crazy about you! You were spoilt for choice but you deliberately chose women whom you knew would only be short-term distractions. You always protected yourself from the threat of a steady relationship and you’re still doing it!’
When Santino went back to the bar for another drink, Jenna was so taken up with her discourse that she accompanied him. Santino’s temper was on a very short leash and his second drink went the way of the first. He was cursing the innate good manners that had persuaded him that he ought to invite the blonde to accompany him to the party. He was thinking of what a very much better time he would have had mixing with his staff. Then he glanced across the room and saw a figure hovering in the doorway and the remainder of Jenna’s barbed criticisms washed off him because he no longer heard them.
Noticing that she had lost his attention, Jenna followed the direction of his gaze. She saw a youthful redhead with a vibrant mane of curly hair. Small, very pretty, but not at all Santino’s style. Yet Santino was so busy watching the girl that he had forgotten Jenna was there.
Scanning the crowded room, Poppy finally picked out Lesley in her distinctive white and silver dress and began to move towards her, an apologetic smile on her lips. She was a little late but then some of her colleagues had opted to stay on in the city centre and warm up in a bar before attending the party. But Poppy loved getting ready to go out at home and had known that she didn’t have enough of a head for drink to have sustained a lengthy pre-party session.
‘I really like that dress,’ Lesley said warmly as she flipped out a seat for Poppy’s occupation. ‘Where did you buy it?’
‘It’s not new. I got it for my brother’s wedding,’ Poppy confided, and then added in an undertone. ‘To be honest, it’s my bridesmaid’s dress—’
‘I wish my best friend had let me wear an outfit like that for her big day. At least I could have worn it again afterwards.’ Lesley admired the strappy green dress that flattered Poppy’s shapely figure and slim length of leg, then drew Poppy’s attention to the drinks already lined up in readiness for her, pointing out that she was very much behind the rest of them, before continuing, ‘It must have been an unusual wedding.’
‘My sister-in-law, Karrie, wanted a casual evening do. She wore a short dress, too.’
Poppy’s attention, which had been automatically roaming the room in search of a certain tall, dark male, finally found Santino where he stood by the bar with a spectacular blonde woman clinging to his arm. She lifted the drink that Lesley had nudged into her fingers and sipped it to ease her tight throat, but she resisted the urge to ask the chatty brunette if she knew who Santino’s companion was. After all, what was the point? Did it make any difference who it was? And it was none of her business either.
Indeed, she should not even be looking at Santino Aragone, Poppy told herself guiltily, because looking was only feeding her obsession. Having thought over Craig’s sneering remarks earlier that day, Poppy had finally faced the unhappy fact that he at least suspected that she was rather too attached to their mutual employer. That conclusion had unnerved her for Craig’s reputation for making others the butt of his cruel sense of humour was well-known. So, she would have to be more circumspect in the future, for languishing like a lovelorn teenager over Santino could easily make her a laughing stock at work. In fact, she would be much better devoting her brain to sussing out the mystery identity of her email correspondent, who had to at least like her to have gone to the trouble of trying to give her a warning word of advice, she reflected.
‘Who is she?’ Jenna enquired very drily of Santino.
‘Who are you talking about?’ Santino asked with a magnificent disregard for the direction of his own gaze.
‘The little redhead with the pre-Raphaelite hair…the one whom you’ve been watching for at least three solid minutes,’ Jenna completed between gritted teeth.
‘I’m not watching her,’ Santino murmured with cool disdain.
‘But even though you employ hundreds of young women you know instantly who I’m referring to,’ Jenna noted with rapier-sharp feminine logic.
‘Did you get out of the wrong side of the bed this morning?’ Santino drawled with his sudden flashing smile. ‘Exactly why are you trying to wind me up?’
‘Before I tell you—’ Jenna gave him a grudging smile of approbation for finally registering that she had been set on evening the score for past injuries ‘—you tell me who the redhead is and I will give you ten very good reasons why one should never, ever date an employee.’
Santino drained his drink again and dealt her a mocking glance. ‘I don’t need them, Jenna. All ten of them are in my mind right now.’
Returning to her table after chatting to various friends, Poppy sat down again. Lesley and two other women were chatting about Santino’s date, who was evidently the daughter of the owner of Delsen Industries.
‘What do you think of Jenna?’ another, less welcome voice enquired.
Poppy’s head swivelled, her startled gaze only then registering that Craig Belston had joined their table during her absence. That question had been directed specifically at her and she was gripped by discomfiture. ‘Why would I think anything of her?’ she answered with a determined smile. ‘All the boss’s girlfriends are incredible beauties.’
‘Now why did I get the idea that you mightn’t have noticed that?’ Craig rested his pale blue probing eyes on Poppy and her mouth ran dry.
‘Santino’s leggy ladies are rather hard to miss.’ Lesley shot a frowning glance at Santino’s PA and added, ‘Come on. You’ve been keeping us all in suspense since we finished work. Who sent Santino the naff card?’
Poppy froze and then gulped down her drink as her colour heightened.
‘Did I mention that it was an inside job?’ Craig murmured with tormenting slowness and Poppy’s heart skipped an entire beat, her every tiny muscle pulling rigid.
‘No, you darned well didn’t!’ one of the other women piped up in exasperation. ‘Who on earth working for Santino would be daft enough to send him a valentine card swearing undying love? I mean, come on, yes, he’s hugely fanciable, but he’s the last guy around who would respond to that kind of blatant invitation from a member of staff.’
‘You said the card wasn’t signed,’ Lesley reminded Craig. ‘So how could you know it was sent by someone in Aragone Systems? It didn’t come through the internal mail, did it?’
‘Just assume that in this particular case we’re talking about someone who’s not very bright,’ Craig invited, and Poppy’s tummy began to churn where she sat. ‘Someone who assumed that only a name would expose her identity.’
‘You recognised the handwriting!’ someone exclaimed.
‘I really don’t think I like this conversation very much,’ Lesley remarked suddenly. ‘Valentine cards are just for fun.’
‘It wasn’t the handwriting. It was a combination of errors,’ Craig