MARCO COULDN’T STOP thinking about her suggestion that afternoon. He understood Eleanora’s desire to be a sort of traveling manager, setting up new hotels, getting them running smoothly and then moving on to the next beautiful European setting.
He understood what she was saying about their baby’s life not really being impacted by moves—at least not until he or she got into school.
But he did not like the idea of having her set up every hotel and then walking away. There’d be no sense of continuity or consistency for the hotel or its staff.
Worse, he’d promised her that her pregnancy or motherhood wouldn’t impede her position at work, then she asked for a major promotion?
He told himself not to obsess about that. He told himself that Eleanora was a trustworthy employee who wouldn’t take advantage of him and forced down the nagging sensation that kept telling him there was more to this than met the eye.
Added to his odd feelings about her asking for a promotion right after he’d told her that her pregnancy wouldn’t affect her job, he now wondered about her bringing up the idea of a new position when there were other things they had to decide.
He might have suggested they wait for the right time, but he genuinely believed her concerns about her pregnancy and their child should trump her wanting a promotion.
His business sense screamed there was something off in her suggestion but thinking she was using him didn’t fit with his personal knowledge of her.
Still confused at the end of the day, he watched out the window behind Eleanora’s desk, as he waited for her to gather her things to return to the penthouse. They were back to being friends. But he couldn’t stop the nagging sense that he was missing something.
He knew if they spent the night in the condo with only the cats and television for entertainment, he’d eventually begin asking questions, and maybe even start a fight. The better thing to do would be keep busy while the dust settled on her request.
“It’s such a nice night, we should go out to dinner.”
She glanced at him with a smile. “Okay.”
Her smile warmed him, sent him back to the weeks before they’d slept together, back to the friendship he loved. Guilt at his nagging suspicions about her shamed him. She’d never asked for a favor or special treatment. He should trust her.
Except his business instincts were telling him there was something personal behind her request.
Battling it out in his brain was exhausting. He needed a night of peace.
He set his briefcase down so he could help her into her coat. “I know just the place for us to eat. I’ll have Timothy call and get us a reservation and by the time we arrive, our table will be ready.”
She shook her head. “So pampered.”
“I like to think of it as my reward for being a hard worker.”
She said, “Eh,” and walked with him to the elevator. They rode to the first floor, got out in the lobby and headed to his limo parked on the street. Neither one said a word, but it didn’t feel odd or awkward. That lifted his mood and silenced his suspicions.
Sam, a seasoned driver with a wicked sense of humor, opened the car door for them. “Evening, sir.” He touched the rim of his cap. “Ma’am.”
They slid inside. “I feel so old when someone calls me ma’am.”
“You are old. You’re over thirty.”
She laughed. “I’m just thirty.”
He gave her the side-eye as he corrected her. “Thirty-one.”
“That’s still the beginning of the thirties. It’s not like I’m thirty-two like you are.”
He rolled his eyes at her teasing and relaxed even more. Eleanora would not cheat him, would not lie to him, would not take advantage of him—
Unless her wanting to move around had something to do with their child?
He groaned internally and told himself to stop obsessing. They ate a leisurely dinner at a restaurant near Times Square, but because they’d gone to eat directly from the office, it was early when they were done. Not wanting to give his brain any more time to fixate on why she’d asked for a promotion, he suggested they walk to Times Square.
Meandering through the thin crowd, she took a long, slow breath. “I love this place.”
“You just like the lights.”
She looked around. “And the people.”
“Not so many people out tonight.”
“Yeah.”
The street wasn’t deserted but it wasn’t crowded as it would be in a few weeks when hordes of Christmas shoppers would descend.
Snowflakes began to dance around them. “It’s snowing.”
She glanced at him. “Meaning, you want to go back to the limo?”
“No. If you’re enjoying this—”
“I am. I love winter in Manhattan. Though, I have to admit I’m looking forward to seeing what winter in Rome is like.”
His brain tweaked. A woman who loved Rome shouldn’t be asking to be transferred. Of course, her transfer wouldn’t take place until at least eighteen months from now.
Then she’d be back in the corporate office for a few months, as part of the planning and design team—
Maybe she was trying to find a way to bring them together, a way to subtly move herself into the corporate office, at least part-time? That was better than thinking she was using him somehow or taking advantage of his promise that her pregnancy wouldn’t hold her back in her career.
“You don’t remember winter in Rome from last year?”
She laughed. “You don’t remember how busy we were?” She sucked in a breath, seeming to enjoy the brisk air. “Besides, I wasn’t there permanently. I did a lot of flying back and forth through the construction phase.”
Which would be ridiculously difficult for a woman with a child! Damn it! Why was his brain so fixated on this?
“And you want to go back to that in Paris?”
She shrugged. “Sort of. It seems like so much fun to be the one who breathes life into your ideas and to live in the most wonderful cities in the world.”
“But you’re not sure?”
“It’s something we need to think about, consider all angles, make the best decision for the company.”
He almost said, “Thank you,” but he always knew she had the best interest of the company in mind. He shouldn’t have doubted her. He shouldn’t have wondered about her taking the position as a new mother.
He should have trusted her.
It wasn’t the first time he’d thought that. So, he anchored that thought in the front of his brain. No matter what, he should trust her. He’d always trusted her. Always liked her. Being suspicious of her made him feel like a louse when she was such a good person.
Silence stretched between them. The strangest urge to catch her hand filled him. Not wanting it, he shoved his hand in his overcoat pocket. “Anyway, I’m glad you think ahead. I’m glad you think about more than your job. It’s why we picked you to be manager of our first European hotel. We wanted someone special.”
And she was special.
The thought sneaked up on him before he could stop it, filling him with warmth. The feelings that accompanied it weren’t friendly, happy feelings and they especially were not boss-like. They were tingly, intimate—
Maybe a moonlight walk on one of the world’s prettiest streets wasn’t so wise after all?
“You know what? It’s cold enough now that I think we should get back to the limo.”
She turned without argument. “Okay.” She peeked at him. “Race you?”
“What?”
She was three feet ahead of him by the time he realized she was serious. They ran up the street to the limo and were laughing when they reached it. Even in heels she’d almost beaten him.
Having surprised Sam, he wasn’t at the door to open it, and they slid to the back fender, leaning against it to catch their breath.
Sam came outside shaking his head. “You two are nuts.”
They burst out laughing. Eleanora said, “We know.”
Sam opened the door. “Get in. It’s colder than it was supposed to be.”
“We saw snowflakes,” Eleanora said excitedly.
“Peachy.”
He closed the door. Eleanora and Marco exchanged a look, then burst out laughing again. In another almost automatic move, he nearly put his arm around her and hugged her to him.
But that wasn’t boss-like either. Or friendly. He wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but the ease and simplicity of the instinct that continually sneaked up on him was going to catch him off guard one day and he was going to do something like kiss her again.
Sam drove them to Marco’s building. They told him goodnight before they entered and rode the elevator to his penthouse. As soon as he switched on the lights, Sunrise and Sunset woke, yawning and stretching on his sofa.
Eleanora gasped. “We forgot to feed them!”
“I texted Wisdom. Because I never know when I’ll be getting home, she’s always on call.”
She walked over to the cats, scratched both of their heads, then shrugged out of her coat. “Did you guys have fun today?”
They looked at her as if fun was a foreign concept. But as soon as she sat on the sofa, both crawled onto her lap. “I think you missed me.”
Sunrise ran his face along her chin. Sunset gazed up at her and purred.
She scratched their heads again. “Sweet boys.”
“I never took you for a cat person.”
She glanced at him. “I love cats. Cats are happy you’re home, but they’ll gaze at you adoringly rather than expend the energy to knock you over at the door the way dogs will.”
He laughed. “I totally agree.” He walked to the open bar. “Mind if I have a drink?”
“No. Go ahead.” She rose from the sofa, depositing both cats on the cushions beside her. “In fact, I’m going to my room. I want a shower and maybe ten minutes to read before I fall asleep. At the rate I’m going, it will take me until spring before I finish this novel.”
He said, “Okay.” But another of those weird urges hit him, as she passed him on the way to her room. He could catch her hand and kiss her goodnight. Easily. Automatically.
He cursed in his head. He did not want to confuse their situation after he’d so clearly explained things or have her rightfully yell at him, yet these urges formed as naturally as a breath.
He shook his head to clear it. As Eleanora’s bedroom door closed, he pulled his phone from his pocket and fell to the sofa beside Sunrise and Sunset.
Their heads tilted in unison, and they stared at him.
“I know. You’d rather have the pretty girl sitting beside you.”
Sunrise sniffed the air. Sunset plopped down again.
He glanced at the texts on his phone. Two from Chiara. He’d texted to ask her where she was, and her vague reply gave him a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach. She wasn’t so dim-witted that she wouldn’t understand his question. Yet, her response totally avoided it.
He tried to call her but got no answer. Rising from the sofa, he walked to the bar and retrieved the bourbon he’d poured. He sent Chiara two more texts: one asking where she was—again—and the other referencing their trip to Vermont to be with their dad for the Christmas holiday.
She didn’t reply. Not knowing what part of the world she was in, he had to acknowledge that she might be sleeping. Still, he waited a half hour for a reply, focusing on the phone, hoping she wasn’t avoiding him because she planned to bail on the Christmas reunion that their dad was looking forward to.
That was better than thinking about Eleanora showering, then sliding between the soft sheets just down the hall.
He could easily picture her naked with her head on the pillow, her auburn hair a pretty contrast to the white case, because that’s what she’d looked like when he’d left her the morning after their tryst.
He pushed himself up off the sofa and tossed his bourbon into the sink before he headed to his room. With her at his fingertips, remembering how she looked in bed was not a wise move, especially since they had a long weekend with no work to keep them busy.