Seduced by the Enemy
Page 6
The combination of hard bone structure and the masculine stubble along his jaw line, gave Luca a face every woman would want to wake up next to in the morning. And, as far as fantasy went, the rest of him failed to disappoint.
Earlier, at the airport, she’d noted he was easily a head above the next tallest male. Broad shoulders, lean hips and with an aura that commanded attention and signalled he was a man to be reckoned with. Every feminine head had turned as he’d walked through the terminal.
‘Is that how you see me, Olivia?’ he intoned with quiet menace.
Oh, hell! She almost groaned aloud. Surely she hadn’t verbalised her thoughts?
A tide of guilty heat swept up from her chest and burned in her cheeks, causing her to hang her head quickly so the heavy curtain of her blonde hair would fall forward to mask her expression.
Could he read her mind and know how she saw him?
Was the attraction she was fighting against so obvious?
‘As your enemy?’ he probed.
Relief at his qualification made her light-headed.
It was impossible to think of a flippant retort when all she could do was focus on keeping her breathing even. She wished she could ignore him and banish him from her life but he was a man who wouldn’t be ignored—the man who held all the aces to accessing Christiana.
As for finding him attractive, she had to remind herself he was out of the same mould as his brother. Antonio’s attractiveness had proven fatal for Jane.
‘Do you regard me as your enemy, Olivia?’ he repeated.
In the end she nodded and tried not to let her awareness of his physical attributes show on her face. ‘You are my enemy. Your brother destroyed my sister’s life and he didn’t even have the decency to answer my calls or to meet me at the morgue.’ Her words became slightly louder, her tone more shrill—the same way the jet engines were revving up outside. Despite her best efforts, her emotions threatened to break her thin façade of control. ‘My last overseas trip, I was also travelling to Rome but there wasn’t a Borghetti in sight to help me with my ordeal.’
Her words choked in her throat, she screwed her eyes shut tightly against the sting of tears and bit down on her lip. She didn’t want to cry in front of Luca. She didn’t want him to think this was all about her and what she’d gone through, because the damage done to Jane and her father had been far worse.
Fatal.
The warm strength of his hands closed around her own, stilling the agitated wringing action she hadn’t even been aware she made. His touch almost sent her over the edge, his empathy making it even harder to hold herself together.
For a crazy few seconds she yearned for his comfort. She wanted him to pick her up and cradle her against him and soothe all her doubts and misgivings. Through the blur of tears she looked up at his sensual lips and wanted to feel them against her own, kissing away her pain.
‘I’m sorry for what you’ve been through.’
Damn but he sounded sincere. Instead of fighting him, she waged a battle against herself to keep from leaning closer towards him.
‘I do understand what an ordeal it must’ve been for you.’
‘How could you?’ she challenged bitterly, determined to keep up the barrier of animosity.
Luca’s jaw clenched and the pressure of his hands on hers increased slightly for a second or two. ‘We have more in common than you realise.’ He paled, as though nausea washed over him. ‘I had to fly to Switzerland to identify the bodies of Antonio and his wife when they were killed in the cable car accident.’
Olivia’s breath caught in her throat and she felt ashamed she’d challenged him. She hadn’t known how Antonio had died and couldn’t have guessed Luca had completed the same gruesome, miserable task she’d had to face.
If he’d done that, he knew what she’d experienced when she’d stood in the cold room and looked at Jane’s lifeless body lying on the sterile, stainless steel trolley in the morgue.
Reality had rolled through Olivia in sickening waves as the sheet had been turned back to reveal Jane’s grey and utterly unanimated face. The entire way over to Rome she’d hoped the phone call from the hospital had all been some dreadful mistake. One look at Jane’s corpse and all hope had disintegrated.
It’d been a terrible invasion of privacy to have her raw grief witnessed by a nameless government official—a stranger who could never understand the depth of her despair. She’d fought to hold her emotions together but had been unable to control her sobbing when the morgue attendant handed her a plastic bag that’d contained Jane’s jewellery and purse. In those few seconds, staring at the contents of the bag, it struck her that Jane’s life and all she’d been was somehow being reduced to the sum total of one plastic bag. It was an irrational, grief-stricken thought but it’d skewered painfully through her heart.
Luca had said he hadn’t been particularly close to Antonio, yet his visible reaction to the memory of identifying his brother’s body told her he knew something of the awful ordeal she’d experienced.
Olivia was caught up in the tangible current of emotional connection flowing between her and Luca. In those few seconds she knew they’d each been transported back to a shockingly traumatic time. They shared the same pain in their souls, and instead of seeking comfort from him, she now found herself wanting to comfort him—to ease the loss she sensed in this all-powerful male.
Even as she went to turn her hands in his, intent on giving him a small squeeze of reassurance, he urged, ‘Let go of your anger and your bitterness, Olivia.’
The reality of their relationship slammed home hard.
Her head snapped back and she pulled her hands out of his grasp. She couldn’t do what he wanted. It was too much to ask!
Her anger and bitterness had kept her going. Those dark emotions were now very much a self-protective mechanism—an integral part of her to hold on to so she’d never again be dropped into a bottomless pit of despair.
Most importantly, she needed her resentment to keep up the barrier between them—to make certain he never breached the wall she’d erected to safeguard her vulnerability. To let go of anger and bitterness right now would weaken her to him and make her susceptible to more hurt. Lord! It might even make her susceptible to the sexual charisma emanating from him—the sexual energy she couldn’t ignore even though she knew she couldn’t trust him.
God help her. So much for telling herself she wouldn’t be vulnerable like Jane.
Once again she needed to remind herself Luca wasn’t just a powerful, dominating man, he was a Borghetti. If she was to survive her time in Rome and emerge from this visit on her terms, she needed to make certain he didn’t take advantage of any weakness and use it against her to dominate her and bend her to his will.
Antonio had exploited Jane’s emotional vulnerability. Luca would not be allowed to repeat his brother’s ruthlessness.
The aircraft moved forward, picking up ground speed until it hurtled along the runway preparing to become airborne.
Luca fastened his seatbelt but didn’t sit back. He continued to train his piercing regard on her. ‘For Christiana’s sake, we need to be in accord.’
Olivia concentrated on the momentum of the jet plane to block out the seductive and comforting memory of his touch, and to regain her anger.
‘You were right when you said I’m angry,’ she told him as they left the surface of the runway behind them.
Anger was necessary to obliterate the aching emptiness inside her and the ridiculous fantasies she was beginning to have that Luca was capable of comforting her and making everything right in her world.
‘I’m angry for lots of reasons.’
‘Care to share them with me?’
‘You have so much power, the whole world seems to bow and scrape to you.’
‘You resent my authority because you feel powerless?’
‘Yes. Damn it! But also because for all the power you possess, you’re not getting results fast enough. You tell me you
’re looking into what happened with the money Jane was supposed to have received, but you don’t have an answer yet.’
‘I’ll either get an answer during this flight or very soon after we get to Rome.’
‘You managed to pull strings to secure Mum’s passport in record time.’ She pointed a finger at him in accusation. ‘You manage to cut through all the red-tape when it suits you, yet when I brought Jane’s body home, the mountain of red-tape to wade through was endless. One word from the mighty Borghetti family would probably have cut the paperwork in half.’
His jaw clenched. ‘You continue to forget, I knew nothing of your sister’s death.’
‘But your brother did, and your father did. Your brother wouldn’t come to the telephone–he hid behind your father, and your father refused to help.’
‘And you hold me responsible?’ he cut in with ferocity, the deep, angry hiss of his outgoing breath audible above the engines. ‘Whatever happened is regrettable and cannot be undone, but it’s unjust and counterproductive that you continue to hold me responsible for my brother’s alleged sins and for my father’s unhelpful behaviour.’
‘Unhelpful?’ She released a harsh, scornful sound. ‘He wasn’t only unhelpful, he was bloody insulting!’
‘I’m not my brother or my father.’
She swallowed the lump of despair rising in her throat. He made her sound so unreasonable, but didn’t she have cause to hold his family to account?
‘I don’t trust you,’ she lashed out. ‘You might have my mother eating out of the palm of your hand, but—’
‘It bothers you she likes me, doesn’t it?’
Yes, it bothered her! It damned well ate into her like acid into an open wound to see her mother smiling with Luca when Marjorie had been so depressed for all this time. Very little Olivia had said or done had managed to bring even a hint of a smile to Marjorie’s face for over five years. And, to make matters worse, Marjorie kept singing Luca’s praises.
‘I’m concerned about my mother,’ she agreed tightly.
‘Concerned she’s consorting with the enemy?’
‘Concerned she trusts you absolutely when I don’t.’
‘Why don’t you trust me?’
‘Why should I? You were hostile from the outset. You won’t listen to me when I tell you Jane wasn’t the person you believe her to be. How do I know you’re going to honour your agreement and allow us to have ongoing contact with Christiana?’
He looked insulted at her doubts, his lips tightening into a thin line, but she ploughed on regardless.
‘I don’t want to subject my mother to more disappointment. How do I know you won’t find some excuse to renege at the eleventh hour once you’ve got us in Rome?’
‘Your honesty is, at last, refreshing, but your paranoia is incredible,’ he remarked with deadly calm. ‘Have I done or said anything to make you believe I’ll break my word?’
‘You’re an Italian multi-billionaire,’ she prevaricated, ‘and I’ve heard your family has connections with the Mafia. I wonder how many bodies are buried under your wealth.’
His face was as dark as a thundercloud and his words, when they came, burst forward as deadly as a lightning strike. ‘Be very careful what you insinuate, Olivia.’
Swallowing down a rising lump of fear, she forged on, recklessly refusing to be cowed by him. ‘Your father’s connections are no news flash.’
‘I will only tell you once more, I am not my father.’
The heat from his searing fury reached her, but, God help her, she still couldn’t remain silent. ‘You’ve stormed into our lives and taken over, making arrangements for our departure with a speed and determination that’s left me breathless.’
‘You know the urgency of this situation.’ A pulse ticked in his cheek above his jaw. ‘You told me you wanted to be with Christiana as soon as possible and now you’re critical of the way I facilitated this?’
God damn him, he had a point and it irked Olivia to acknowledge she was the one who was being unreasonable. Nerves overrode her commonsense and made her rash. Her hands moved agitatedly in front of her as she strove to make her point. ‘Don’t pretend you’re doing me any favours. I witnessed your high-handedness. You didn’t invite Mum or I into Christiana’s life, and it makes my blood boil at the way my mother welcomes you like a long lost relative and places all her trust in you.’ And comments on how goddamned handsome you are!
She couldn’t fathom her mother’s acceptance of him, nor the way she was none-too-subtly trying to push Olivia into seeing Luca as a potential partner. As if!
How Marjorie could be so forgiving, when the actions of the Borghetti family had been instrumental in the deaths of her daughter and husband, was beyond Olivia’s comprehension.
‘Your mother is an adult and she’s behaving in a far more adult way than you are,’ he stressed, not bothering to hide his annoyance. ‘Stop treating her like a child.’
That hurt.
It really hurt.
Luca had no idea what it’d been like—how hard it’d been for Olivia.
Olivia had been the go-to person whenever there’d been a problem in the Temple family for as long as she could remember. Her mother had buried her head in the sand, and even her father had found it impossible to cope with the bullying Jane had been subjected to at school. It’d been Olivia who’d had to defend her little sister at every turn.
When Harold and Jane had both died, Olivia had most definitely been the adult—Marjorie as dependent as a child needing support and care.
‘Don’t tell me how to handle my mother,’ she hit back. ‘What if I hadn’t told her she had a granddaughter? You came back to my home unannounced—again—and delivered the news. The shock might’ve killed her.’
‘Like the shock of Jane’s death killed your father?’
‘Yes.’ Damn that the seatbelt signs were still on and the aircraft was still climbing at a fairly steep angle. Powerless to stop the stinging pricks of tears, she wanted to get away from this man.
His voice was calm and rang with sincerity when he told her, ‘I’m deeply sorry for all your loss. From what Marjorie tells me you’ve been incredibly strong for her since Jane and your dad died. She describes you as her ‘rock’.’
‘Losing Jane and my father shattered her.’
He leant back into the seat and she instantly felt less threatened. ‘Then you should be pleased she’s had a new lease of life. She told me she’s found new energy since she learned about Christiana.’
‘She’s been on an unnatural high since she learned she’d be travelling to Rome to meet Christiana.’ The change in her mother was incredible. Olivia chewed slightly at her bottom lip. ‘I’m concerned,’ she told him, thinking aloud. ‘The change in her is too extreme, and it was so immediate I hardly recognise her. I’d pushed her out the door to visit friends for the weekend the day you arrived. In fact, if I hadn’t pushed her over the last five years, I doubt she’d have left the house at all.’ It had been a constant struggle to deal with her mother.
‘So you’re worried when your mother’s depressed and worried when she’s happy?’ Both Luca’s eyebrows rose in challenge.
Sarcastic bastard.
‘At the moment she’s happy—unnaturally happy. Okay, it’s better than the ghost of a woman I’ve been living with but I can’t help worrying her bubble is going to burst.’
Luca regarded Olivia closely. ‘I’ve never met anyone with your fierce family loyalty.’
With a humourless laugh she said, ‘You don’t believe it’s sincere.’
‘Actually, I do. Your mum’s told me how much taunting Jane was subjected to at school and how fiercely protective you were of her. She also told me you delayed going to university for a year so you could be at home while Jane finished her last year of high school. I have enormous respect for your selflessness.’
His unexpected words robbed her of any comeback.
‘Be honest, Olivia. You’d prefer it if I doubte
d your sincerity and blocked you at every turn because that would justify your animosity and lack of trust in me.’
Luca Borghetti is not your friend. How many times did she need to keep reminding herself?
‘It’s true I came to Sydney believing what I’d been told about Jane. But, you and your mother have presented me with a different side of the story.’
‘Which you don’t believe.’
‘I believe you both believe it. I know you knew Jane and I didn’t. I also know my father and, given I have no respect for him and as little to do with him as possible, I’ve told you, I’m re-examining the facts.’
Damn Luca. Now he was sounding reasonable and it was increasingly difficult to throw accusations at him if he was a reasonable person.
He’s such a caring, considerate young man. He’s doing all he can to help us get to Rome. Her mother’s words replayed in Olivia’s memory. When Marjorie had said it, Olivia had wanted to grab her mother’s shoulders and shake her. She’d wanted Marjorie to be less trusting—to be on her guard. But, not having had any contact with Luca’s father and not knowing how ruthless Damiano Borghetti had been, Marjorie couldn’t accept Olivia’s caution that Luca could be anything but sincere.
‘What I’d like you to think about,’ Luca continued as she maintained her silence, ‘is how I’m completely responsible for Christiana’s well-being. Completely responsible,’ he underlined. ‘She’s a child—a sick child, and her needs are my priority. I visited your home the second time to tell you I had no intention of taking either of you to Rome unless you accepted my terms because I didn’t trust you. I didn’t feel I knew enough about you or your motivations to risk having you meet her.’
The admission had her flummoxed. ‘What made you change your mind?’
‘I met your mother and, unlike you, she didn’t blame me for what happened between Antonio and Jane.’