Power. Michelle Reid

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СКАЧАТЬ word that they said. She knew she’d gone pale because she felt pale; a clammy kind of chill had settled over her flesh. And worse—much worse—was the way an already badly wounded part of her was cracking open like a fissure forming a fresh wound over a jagged old one in recognition that he could still do that to her after all of these years and here of all places, in full view of all her work colleagues.

      Somehow—she didn’t really know how—she managed to turn away from him. She managed to draw in a few shallow breaths. She was feeling so badly shaken up inside it took all her control not to start moving like a battering ram in her desperation to get out of the now suffocating crush.

      ‘Do you think they’ll let us go and eat now?’ she heard Ella murmur wistfully.

      And it came as a further shock to realise that the whole shattering incident must have only lasted a few seconds. ‘Yes,’ she breathed like a metal-encased robot set on automation.

      Who was she…?

      The question lit up Alessandro’s brain like a bolt of lightning and sent a too-familiar pain whipping across the front of his head, forcing him to lift a hand up to rub at his brow.

      And he felt weird, as if something was scooping him out from the inside.

      Could instant sexual attraction be so strong it could threaten to take the legs from beneath you? he wondered. It was years—he couldn’t remember the last time the sight of a beautiful woman had felled him so completely as the blonde had just done. And he was angry with himself for letting it happen here of all places, with a woman who’d just become one of the newest members of his international workforce. It was unprofessional—and damned inconvenient when he—

      ‘Headache, Alessandro?’ Always aware of any change in his mood, Pandora spoke, her voice reaching him softly laced with concern.

      ‘No.’ Dropping the hand from his face, he found himself turning to narrow another look at the blonde.

      Even her rear view sent that same instant shaft of fire burning through him, almost knocking him sideways with its power. And her hair—her hair… there was something about the colour of her hair and the way it caressed her slender white shoulders—

      ‘You’ve gone a worrying shade of pale, cara,’ Pandora persisted. ‘Are you sure you—?’

      ‘Jet lag,’ he dismissed with irritation, most of his attention still fixed on the blonde. ‘We have just arrived here straight off a fifteen-hour flight. Don’t fuss, Pandora. You know it annoys the hell out of me.’

      Who was she…? And why was he getting this gut-shaking feeling that he had seen her somewhere before…?

      ‘And you worked instead of resting…’ His companion ignored his warning. ‘One day, Alessandro, you will—’

      Beside him, Jason Farrow suddenly clapped his hands together, drowning out the rest of what Pandora was saying and making Alessandro fight the need to wince as the unwelcome sound crashed through his aching head.

      ‘Ladies and gentlemen, may I please have your attention?’ the current MD of BarTec prompted, causing silence to fold around the room as everyone looked expectantly in their direction.

      Grimly trying to shake off the strange sensations running through him, Alessandro took in the full impact of a hundred pairs of eyes honed exclusively on him.

      He knew her. The more he thought about it the more sure he became that he’d met her somewhere before. Her pale golden hair, her luminous green eyes, her full, soft, sexy pink mouth… He tried not to frown as he tracked through his memory banks looking for clues as to how or where he knew her, with that weird, hollowing-out feeling increasing as he did.

      Her gently moulded cheekbones and small, straight nose, her cute, slightly pointed chin…

      He disentangled himself from Pandora’s clinging hand, shocked suddenly by how appalled he felt to have her show such intimacy with him.

      ‘Can I ask you all to offer a warm welcome to the new owner of BarTec, Alessandro Marchese…?’

      Having been forced to turn around again, Cassie saw that Sandro—or whatever it was he called himself these days—was still frowning as if something had thoroughly ruined his day. Well, join the club, she thought as a flow of acid contempt for him thankfully cleared out her battered feelings of hurt and dismay. Who the heck did he think he was that he felt he had the right to blank her as if she were nobody?

      She listened to the second wave of applause ripple through the bar area, though she didn’t bother to join in. She would rather cut off her hands than applaud this man. She hated him. Now that she was looking at him without the first incapacitating rush of shock cluttering up her emotions, she was remembering just how much she hated and despised Sandro Rossi—or, in this case, Alessandro Marchese.

      ‘Grazie molto per la vostra accoglienza calorosa…’ the man himself responded in a rich, deep, sensually delivered Italian which caused a collective gasp of delicious appreciation from the females present in the bar, while his beautiful companion touched his arm and murmured something to him that turned his frown to a grimace, then a short second later into a smile that clutched Cassie’s stomach muscles in a vice-like grip and just captivated everyone else.

      ‘My apologies,’ he murmured, ‘allow me to repeat that in English… Thank you very much for your warm welcome…’

      ‘Oh, my,’ Ella breathed beside Cassie. ‘Now, that was very, very sexy indeed. Do you think he deliberately set out to disarm us all with the piece of theatre?’

      Probably, Cassie thought cynically, fighting to keep her bitter feelings from showing on her face. In truth she was surprised the sharp-eyed Ella hadn’t noticed what had been passing between her best friend and their new boss—surprised that the whole darn room hadn’t noticed!

      Sandro was now busy charming everyone as he mapped out his plans for the company, and he did it by conveying an air of smoothly polished self-assurance aimed to allay everyone’s fears about their future at BarTec. Lowering her eyes, Cassie listened without really hearing, unwillingly tuned in to the flowing resonance of his voice but without catching more than the odd word because her mind was elsewhere, rolling back the years to a time when she’d first heard that voice.

      It hadn’t changed—he hadn’t changed. Whatever he preferred to call himself these days, he was still the man who’d used those sexy dark base tones and his easy-going charm to make her fall in love with him before casting her aside once he’d enjoyed the pleasures of her body, leaving her desolate, pregnant and alone.

      A second crash of applause woke her up with a shudder. Sandro had finished speaking and was now smiling down at the woman in the red dress. Cassie wanted to leave. It was horrible just how badly she wanted to just walk through that door and go. But Sandro was still blocking the exit along with his cluster of smartly dressed minions, who all looked as slick and as sharp as he did.

      Could she squeeze past them without him noticing? Would he care that she was leaving if she did? The sizzle of temptation fizzed through her body alongside the angry bitterness already swimming through it.

      ‘At last we get to be fed.’ Ella’s dry comment forced her to take note of the way everyone was beginning to make a move towards the stairs which led to the restaurant above, and grim common sense arrived as Cassie felt herself swept up in the general exodus.

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