Claimed for the Italian's Revenge

by Natalie Rivers

  ‘That was my stepmother.’ Claudia was beyond guarding what she said. ‘She wants to know what dress I’ll be wearing for the wedding. I told her to choose for me.’

  ‘You do seem to have left that decision a little late,’ Marco said. ‘Will you be saying your vows on the beach at sunset?’

  ‘You tell me,’ Claudia snapped. ‘You seem to know more than I do.’

  ‘Details of the wedding and following celebrations are rather sketchy,’ Marco said without expression. ‘I can tell you the name of the official who is booked to perform the ceremony but, apart from that, not much. I suspect limited cash flow might be causing a problem.’

  Claudia turned sideways to look at him. It was rapidly growing dark—the roadside was lined with trees, which blocked out the final rays of light from the western sky—but she could just about see his face.

  ‘Why are you taking me to the Caribbean?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s where you want to go,’ he said. ‘You’ve just told your stepmother you’ll be there.’

  ‘It’s not where I want to go,’ she said. ‘And you told me you were not going to allow the wedding to go ahead—so why take me there?’

  ‘You’re right—it won’t go ahead as planned,’ he replied. ‘But I want Vasile to see you with me. And I want you to see what happens to people who cross me.’

  ‘I’ve already seen what you’ve done to me,’ she said bitterly, thinking about how he’d lied to her and made her trust him. How he’d humiliated her with her desire for him, even after she’d found out the truth.

  ‘No, you haven’t,’ he said. ‘I’m nowhere near finished with you yet.’

  A cold shiver prickled down her spine and she turned her head forward. The sports car was speeding along the country road, hungrily eating up the distance to the city. Soon they’d be on the motorway and she’d have barely any time left.

  The last few days had been overwhelming for her and she no longer felt any confidence in her own judgement. But suddenly she found herself considering telling Marco about the blackmail.

  What more harm could it do? She’d believed Marco when he’d told her that he would not allow the wedding to take place. But, if she didn’t marry Vasile, he would turn her father in to the police. She couldn’t let that happen—protecting her father was all she had to cling on to in the mess her life had become.

  ‘It’s not my choice to marry Primo Vasile,’ she blurted.

  ‘We always have a choice,’ Marco said, keeping his eyes firmly on the road ahead.

  ‘They’re going to hurt my father if I don’t do it,’ she said.

  ‘How?’ Marco demanded, glancing at her with his piercing gaze. ‘How are they going to hurt him?’

  ‘I knew I shouldn’t trust you!’ Claudia cried, folding her arms across her chest and hugging herself tightly. ‘You just want to know what it is they have on him, so that you can use it yourself!’

  ‘I’m just interested,’ Marco said. ‘In all the years I’ve been following the situation, I’ve never found anything on your father. As far as I can tell, he’s kept his nose clean.’

  ‘The situation,’ Claudia echoed. ‘You are so cold! You are talking about my family.’

  ‘Because of what they—you—did to my family,’ he responded.

  ‘I was thirteen years old when we came to Turin!’ she gasped. ‘When all this started.’

  ‘You’re an adult now,’ Marco said. ‘Responsible for your own actions. You make your own decisions.’

  ‘I didn’t just decide to marry Primo,’ she said. ‘I told you—they are blackmailing me. Threatening to hurt my father!’

  ‘Blackmail—that’s a serious accusation,’ he said. ‘Maybe I can add that to the catalogue of crimes I’ll be using as evidence against Vasile. But I’ll need to know the details.’

  ‘I can’t tell you. I’m scared you’ll use the information against my father,’ she said, dragging her fingers through her hair, which was still tangled from their lovemaking. ‘And Primo will use it if I don’t go through with the wedding,’ she finished in dismay.

  ‘So it’s going to come out anyway,’ Marco said. ‘You might as well tell me now.’

  She bit her lip and turned away to stare blindly out of the passenger window. She didn’t know what to do, but she had to find some way to stop her father getting hurt.

  Marco put the folder of documents back into his briefcase and looked across at Claudia. She was still sleeping, curled up under a blanket in the aeroplane seat. They were halfway into their private flight to the Caribbean and she had already been asleep for a couple of hours.

  Marco was far too wired for sleep, despite the fact that he hadn’t had much rest over the past few days. He’d been trying to read the documents detailing the evidence he’d compiled against Vasile and Francesca—it was almost impossible to believe that his family would finally be avenged. But his thoughts had been completely overtaken by Claudia.

  He watched her sleeping. She was exquisite—more beautiful than when they’d first met four years ago. Maybe it was because she’d grown her fringe out and he could see the delicate arch of her brows and the smooth width of her forehead, but her stunning bone structure seemed to be even more defined. And her clear skin looked even more luminous, with the softest sheen like the finest silk.

  He looked at the gentle arc of her dark lashes, and pictured the incredible colour of her eyes. It wasn’t just the warm shade of golden brown that made them so arresting, it was the way they appeared to be lit from within, almost like tiger’s eye gemstones, which seem to glow in layers, drawing the eye deep into the precious stone.

  He imagined how gorgeous they would look in the Caribbean light, gazing lazily up at him as they lay together on the soft white sand, warm water lapping gently at their feet.

  Suddenly the image shattered and he found himself picturing her distraught face after he’d confronted her with the truth in her father’s study. The pain and betrayal in her eyes had pierced him like a jagged knife, tearing through his emotional barricades and slicing down to expose his nerves.

  But he had been so wrapped up in his own agonising memories when he’d recounted what Vasile had done to his family that somehow Claudia’s pain and distress had become indistinguishable from his own.

  Now he let himself remember how horrified she had looked. How completely devastated she’d seemed at the discovery that he’d been using her all along.

  A stab of conscience pricked at him.

  He pushed it down ruthlessly.

  He had wanted to hurt her. He had wanted her to share in the pain that had consumed him for twelve years. It couldn’t have been that much of a surprise to her—she’d always known about his past, about the way their families were connected. It must have simply been frustration that her attempt to pretend ignorance of the past—to slip in past his defences again—had not succeeded.

  He would not let her dupe him again. When they’d first met he’d made the mistake of letting down his guard and giving her the benefit of the doubt. That had nearly led to unthinkable consequences.

  This time he’d thought that he’d been the one in control—that he’d been the one calling the shots. But now he realised she had started to get under his skin once again, drawing him into her world with her subtle emotional displays.

  He’d felt her distress in Wales when she’d wept for her father, and he’d shared her joy when she’d discovered he wasn’t dying. He’d even felt a jolt of protectiveness towards her as it had become clear that she had been deliberately misled.

  He jerked to his feet and walked away down the plane, feeling his fingers coil round into tight fists.

  The only thing he had to remember was how Claudia had deliberately taken him out of the country, allowing Vasile access to Bianca.

  The background noise of the aeroplane engines roared in his ears. He looked at his watch, wishing the journey would be over soon. He hated flying, hated the confinement. Usually he passed the time
by burying himself in his work. But he was too distracted to concentrate.

  His thoughts turned to Claudia once again—this time to her assertion that Francesca and Vasile were blackmailing her into marriage. He realised that she was probably telling the truth. He believed that they’d lied to her about Hector’s illness, and blackmail was well within Vasile’s capabilities.

  Another unwanted jolt of protectiveness towards Claudia made itself felt, but he ignored it. So what if Vasile was using her now? Four years ago she had been acting for Vasile when she’d set Bianca up.

  He turned back and looked bitterly at Claudia—still lost in sleep. The only time in his adult life he’d ever slept soundly was during the few months he’d spent with her four years ago. He told himself that his relationship with her had made him soft, had made him let down his guard.

  The possibility that he’d slept well because he was happy—because being with Claudia made him happy—drifted into his mind. He clenched his jaw shut and rammed the thought aside.

  He wasn’t wrong about her. And she was going to pay for what she’d done.

  Claudia stood staring out across the emerald lagoon, hardly able to believe she was actually in the Caribbean, but the tropical sun was shining brightly, heating her body through the thin sarong she had wrapped over her bikini and the warm water was lapping gently at her bare feet. She could see silvery fish flashing past her in the crystal clear water close to the shore, and further out she could see the spectacular breakers where they crashed over the coral reef that surrounded the island, partially protecting the beach from the power of the ocean waves.

  Marco had brought her to an exclusive private island resort where they were staying in their own luxury villa in a grove of palm trees, on an idyllic bay reserved for their personal use. The island was close to St Lucia, which was where she had agreed to meet Vasile and Francesca, and Marco had said he would take her there at the right time, although he’d assured her again the wedding would not be going ahead.

  ‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’

  Marco’s voice beside her made her jump.

  ‘Do you have to sneak up on me like that?’ she said touchily, continuing to stare resolutely out across the lagoon.

  ‘I didn’t sneak,’ he said. ‘You were obviously lost in thought.’

  ‘I was wondering how to get off this island,’ she said. She still had to find a way to make him change his mind about letting her marry Primo—she couldn’t let him carry out his threat to take the incriminating evidence about her father to the police. ‘I don’t like being your prisoner here. Why couldn’t you have taken us to a normal hotel like normal people?’

  ‘You’re not my prisoner,’ he said. ‘You can leave any time you choose—just ask Pierre and he’ll take you over to St Lucia. But I’m surprised you don’t like it here. I thought you’d enjoy the isolation. Apart from reminding you of your grandmother, I thought that was the main attraction of the cottage in Wales.’

  ‘Don’t do that,’ Claudia snapped.

  ‘What?’ Marco asked.

  ‘Don’t keep acting like you know me, like we’re…friends or something.’

  ‘I do know you. I made it my business to know you,’ he said. ‘And we’ve never been just friends.’

  Something in the tone of his voice made a spark of electricity prickle across her skin and she turned to look at him.

  She drew in an inadvertent breath of appreciation as she laid eyes on him—he truly was a magnificent man. He was only wearing his swimming trunks, and nothing was left to her imagination—not the impressive width of his shoulders and powerful biceps, or the well-defined muscles of his chest and stomach. His bronzed skin glowed with vitality in the warm sunlight, making her want to reach out and touch him, to feel the potent masculine energy that was flowing through his body.

  She lifted her gaze to his face, determined not to let him catch her ogling him, but she was too late. His eyes bored into her with an intensity that let her know that he was well aware of her train of thought.

  ‘Four years ago, before you left me, it felt like you were my friend,’ she said, ignoring the way her pulse-rate had accelerated, and turned to look back out to sea.

  ‘That was the whole point,’ Marco said.

  ‘The whole point?’ She frowned and spun back to stare up him. ‘I thought I was almost…incidental, part of your plan for revenge because I was involved with the people who hurt your family.’

  ‘You were never incidental,’ Marco said, lifting a hand to trace his fingertips lightly over her cheek.

  ‘Don’t.’ She shrugged his hand away and took a step backwards, despite the way her body suddenly longed to lean into his.

  ‘Do we have to go through this every time?’ Marco asked, closing the distance between them and sliding one hand round her waist to pull her closer still. The heat from his powerful body burned through the delicate fabric of her sarong and she felt butterflies of anticipation flutter in her stomach.

  But it was wrong. After everything that had happened between them, it was wrong to fall into his arms again. She might have fallen in love with him, but if she had any self-respect she would push him away for good.

  ‘No. I mean there won’t be any more times,’ she said, ignoring the heavy feeling of loss that settled inside her at the thought of never lying in Marco’s arms again. ‘Not now I know you are just using me.’

  ‘We made love in Italy, after you knew the truth,’ he said, slipping his other hand under the sarong to cup the curve of her bottom.

  ‘That wasn’t love,’ Claudia said, suddenly finding the will to push him away and take another step backwards. As his hands lost contact with her she felt herself sway with intense disappointment—as if she had just lost some vital part of herself.

  ‘No, it wasn’t,’ Marco agreed. ‘You made your feelings for me plain afterwards when you said that you hated me. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t good sex. Incredible sex.’

  He stepped closer once more, his well-toned muscles rippling deliciously beneath his taut bronze skin, sorely testing her resolve to keep her distance. Although the soft sand shifted beneath his feet, he moved with an amazing fluid grace that spoke of power and control.

  She gazed at his superb athletic form, bewildered by a haze of conflicting thoughts and emotions. When they’d first met, she’d believed that he was a good man—the kind of man who took care of people. In her heart she’d felt they had made a real connection, but he’d proven her wrong when he’d disappeared. And almost everything he’d done since then had been at odds with her initial belief in him.

  ‘Is that all it ever was?’ she asked. Could she really have fallen in love with someone so heartless? ‘It felt like so much more.’

  ‘It was an act,’ he said. ‘We were both acting.’

  ‘It can’t have been just an act,’ she protested, not caring about saving face in front of him. She was losing—had lost—something that really mattered to her and she needed to come to terms with what had happened. ‘The kindness you showed me, the way you seemed to understand what I was feeling and thinking about everything. You were inside my head and my heart.’

  ‘I did my job well,’ Marco said, looking down at her dispassionately, despite the tug of some unidentifiable emotion bubbling distractingly inside him. He ignored it—he would not let her get to him again. She was obviously getting desperate—playing another of her games with him. ‘How do you think I got where I am today? When Vasile took everything my family owned I was left with next to nothing. I worked hard to build my business, but it takes more than commitment and effort. To be successful it’s vital to understand what motivates people.’

  ‘But that’s not what you’re like—I know it isn’t.’ Her eyes were wide as she stared up at him, and he felt his chest ache in a subconscious response to the innocent image she was projecting. She was trying to appeal to his better nature—but that was something that he’d slammed shut the day she’d betrayed Bianca. ‘You�
�re not the kind of man who uses people and takes what he wants without caring who gets hurt.’

  ‘You don’t know me,’ he said, suddenly reaching out to drag her hard against him. ‘Because this is exactly what I’m like.’

  ‘No, I don’t believe it. Let me go!’ She struggled in his arms, trying to pull away, but he tightened his hold on her with one arm clamped around her waist and lifted his other hand to stroke her cheek.

  ‘You don’t want me to let you go,’ Marco said, dipping his head close to hers so that his mouth hovered only inches above hers. ‘You want me to kiss you senseless. Then make love to you, right here on the sand.’

  ‘That’s the last thing I want.’ She stopped struggling against him—it was simply making her dangerously aware of his raw masculine sensuality. She took a breath and stood absolutely still, trying to close her mind to the mental picture of making love with Marco on the beach and suppress the feelings that image aroused.

  ‘Maybe that’s what your head is telling you,’ he said, stepping just far enough away from her to let his smouldering gaze slide lazily down from her head to her toes. ‘But your body is telling you something completely different.’

  ‘It’s not my head speaking to me,’ Claudia said, doing her best to ignore the physical sensation ignited by the sweep of his gaze. ‘If I listened to my head I’d be on a boat out of here. It’s my heart—in my heart I can’t believe you are doing this.’

  ‘You ought to be grateful to me,’ Marco said. ‘In two days’ time Vasile will be destroyed and you’ll be free of him.’

  ‘But what about my father? If I don’t marry him—’

  ‘Vasile will go to prison whether you marry him or not,’ Marco said. ‘And if I let you go ahead with the wedding you would lose everything. Any funds transferred from your trust fund would be seized to repay Vasile’s debts.’

  ‘I don’t care about money!’ Claudia gasped. ‘I was doing it to protect my father—to stop Primo revealing damaging information.’