Page 6 of His Housekeeper's Twin Baby Confession
‘Did Massimo leave me a message?’
He hasn’t taken a lover in months,that sly voice reminded her.
Carrie pushed it down desperately. She asked, ‘What should I call you?’
‘Call me Massimo.’
Carrie blanched. ‘Are you sure that’s...appropriate?’
Her boss frowned at her. ‘It is if I say it is. Lord Linden makes me feel old and stuffy, and I don’t think I’m either of those things, do you?’
Looking at him in that elegant, sexy sprawl, Carrie couldn’t help saying, ‘No.’
His gaze slid to her table. ‘No champagne?’
Carrie straightened. ‘It’s the middle of the day.’
A small smile played around the corner of his mouth. ‘Well, it’s actually evening now.’
She felt exposed. Gauche. Boundaries set in stone for four years seemed to be dissolving around her.
‘You’re not drinking,’ she said.
The faint smile disappeared. ‘I don’t really drink all that much.’
No, he didn’t. Carrie had often observed him at parties in his own home, where he would stand on the edge of the crowd holding a glass of sparkling wine, but not drinking it. There was a drinks cabinet in his study, full of some of the world’s most expensive and exclusive whiskies, and it was hardly touched.
He always looked brooding at those parties. Unapproachable. But inevitably there would be a stream of women whodidapproach, not taking his air of impermeability as anything but encouragement.
Carrie was about to say,I should let you get back to work, but instead what came out of her mouth was, ‘Would it be okay if you called me Carrie? Miss Taylor makes me feel like a schoolteacher.’
For a moment she thought she might have overstepped the mark, in spite of his request for her to use his first name. But then he said, ‘That would be absolutely okay.’
‘Thank you. I should let you get back to work.’
For a moment he said nothing, and then, ‘You’re probably right... Carrie.’
She turned around again before he could see the heat in her face. They’d exchanged more words in the past twenty-four hours than they had in the whole term of her employment. And now they were on a first-name basis. She felt giddy again.
But she needed to remember that she was just here because her boss needed her toworkin New York.
Driving into Manhattan was sensory overload for Carrie. She couldn’t get over the buildings towering over the wide streets. The chaos of the traffic, horns honking constantly. The sheer number of people.
She felt eyes on her and looked to her right, where Massimo sat on the other side of the SUV.
He was looking at her. ‘Okay?’ he said.
Carrie felt like shaking her head. Her heart-rate was about triple its usual speed. They’d just taken a helicopter from the airport to a rooftop in Manhattan, and had then been met by this chauffeur-driven car down at street level. She couldn’t pretend she was au fait with what was happening.
She smiled ruefully. ‘I wasn’t expecting a helicopter ride into the most famous city in the world.’
Massimo shrugged. ‘It’s expedient when I have a lot to do in a short space of time.’
‘Of course,’ Carrie murmured.
She’d almost forgotten who she was dealing with here. It wasn’t as if it was for her benefit.
‘The driver is going to drop me at my offices and take you on to the apartment, if that’s all right? The concierge has been instructed to let you in and show you around, and my assistant will come over later to give you a full briefing on the event I’m hosting and what’s required.’
