Annie and the Red-Hot Italian

by Carole Mortimer

  It was true that Luc usually only had to show the minimum of interest in a woman in order to make love with her. But of late, he recognised with a frown, those easy conquests had started to pall. To become boring.

  To the point that boredom had succeeded in piquing his interest in this bristly brunette? A woman so unlike the tall and model-thin blondes he was usually attracted to? Perhaps.

  He moved restlessly. ‘You presume to know me that well?’

  Annie gave a derisive snort. ‘I know your type that well,’ she claimed.

  ‘Indeed?’ There was a dangerous edge to Luc’s voice now.

  ‘Indeed,’ Annie echoed tauntingly.

  Luc continued to look at her for several long seconds, the colour burning in Annie’s cheeks by the time he stretched his long legs out in front of him and leant back on his hands in the sand to turn dismissively and gaze out across the lake.

  Giving Annie the opportunity to study him at close quarters unobserved. To once again note the changes in him. What had happened in the past four and a half years to change Luc from that young man, who had met every challenge with a recklessness that bordered on dangerous, to this remote and ruthlessly unyielding man whose every word and action proclaimed contempt for the very wildness he had once possessed in such abundance?

  Why should she care what had happened to him, Annie instantly rebuked herself, when the same intervening years had taken their toll on her own life and emotions? When he didn’t even remember their time together that had resulted in those changes in her life. When he didn’t even remember her!

  ‘If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go for a swim.’ Annie didn’t wait for Luc to reply as she rose abruptly to her feet and began to walk down the beach to the water’s edge.

  Luc slowly turned his head, his gaze admiring as he watched her fluidity of movement as she walked across the sand, arms lightly swinging, shoulders straight, her back long and supple, her hips gently swaying—

  He sat forward suddenly, the darkness of his narrowed gaze arrested on her lower back. On the tattoo revealed just above the soft rise of her left buttock!

  Luc’s breath caught in his throat as he stared at that tattoo. As the memories of a lush body naked in bed beneath him, wrapped around him, riding him as the woman smiled down at him seductively and her breasts jutted forward temptingly, came crashing into his head.

  He rose quickly to his feet to cross the sand in three long, determined strides, before reaching out to grasp her arm and swing her round to face him. ‘Annie?’ he exclaimed as he pushed his sunglasses up into the darkness of his hair to look down searchingly into her face.

  Once again the memory of those golden limbs entwined with his flashed graphically into his head. As did the silky softness of her skin as he’d kissed and tasted every inch of her body—the length of her back, that distinctive tattoo, the full curve of her bottom—before he had turned her over and explored the curve of her neck, the hard pebbles of her breasts, the gentle slope of her belly, the tiny nubbin nestled amongst the auburn curls between her legs as she writhed beneath him in the throes of ecstasy…

  The sudden pallor of her cheeks, and the slight trembling of her body, told him all too clearly that this woman had those same memories—just as she had when they’d met earlier this morning!

  His eyes narrowed furiously. ‘You denied earlier that we had ever met before!’

  Annie gave a bitter laugh. ‘No, what I actually said was that surely one of us would have remembered it if we had,’ she reminded him. And one of them had remembered; how could Annie ever forget? Yet obviously Luc had! ‘something obviously justtriggered your own memory,’ she added sarcastically. ‘What was it?’

  A nerve pulsed in his tightly clenched jaw. ‘The tattoo,’ he bit out.

  Annie’s eyes widened. ‘My unicorn?’

  Several of her university friends had decided to acquire tattoos during their first year at Cambridge, and Annie, with a desire to be accepted for herself rather than as a Balfour, had foolishly allowed herself to be dragged along too. Most of the other girls had opted for dolphins or butterflies, but Annie had known as soon as she saw the unicorn that it was the one she wanted.

  How ironic that its existence should have succeeded in alerting Luc to her identity when nothing else had!

  ‘Your unicorn,’ he echoed grimly as he grasped both her arms. ‘Why didn’t you tell me earlier that we had met before?’ He shook her slightly.

  ‘And what was I supposed to say when you obviously had no memory of that meeting?’ Annie hissed. ‘‘‘Hey, remember me? I’m the woman you spent the night making love to when you were on a skiing holiday four and a half years ago before dumping me the following morning."?’ She scowled at him. ‘Somehow I don’t think so, Luc.’

  Well, when she put it like that…

  Having spent the past few years deliberately blocking all memory of his ignominious fall from grace, and the dire consequences to his father because of that recklessness, Luc now clearly remembered the night he had spent making love with this woman.

  Luc frowned. ‘We need to talk—’

  ‘I can’t imagine why,’ Annie interrupted derisively. ‘So we were lovers.’ She shrugged. ‘I remembered it. You obviously didn’t. End of story.’ She grimaced. ‘Now, would you please let go of me, Luc—you’re causing a scene.’ She looked about them pointedly to where several of the other hotel guests were now watching their exchange with open curiosity.

  ‘Ignore them!’ Luc rasped. He didn’t give a damn what the other hotel guests thought of them. Or him. He only cared that for some reason Annie had chosen not to remind him of their prior relationship.

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t do that,’ Annie snapped. She only hoped, once Luc had released her, that she didn’t add to their curiosity by collapsing at his feet! Her legs certainly felt shaky enough for her to do that.

  She couldn’t believe this was happening. Why did Luc have to suddenly remember their brief time together? It would have been so much easier, for everyone, if she could have just attended the rest of the conference without seeing him again—without him remembering—before returning home to England with no one any the wiser.

  That Luc had now remembered their meeting was a complication she could well have done without. One that raised too many questions in her own mind…

  The fact that he’d looked so grimly formidable at having remembered that meeting certainly wasn’t reassuring.

  Annie forced the tension from her body and permitted a relaxed smile to curve her lips. ‘Let’s not make a big deal out of this, Luc,’ she dismissed lightly. ‘It was a little unflattering that you didn’t remember me initially, of course, but—’

  ‘Stop it, Annie!’ Luc said impatiently even as his fingers tightened on her arms.

  ‘Stop what?’ she asked, frustrated at his behaviour. ‘It’s great that you now seem to want to get together and discuss old times, but really, what would be the point when—’

  ‘I said, stop it!’ Luc repeated with controlled aggression. ‘The Annie I met before—’

  ‘The Annie you met, and who you’ve only just remembered,’ she pointed out fiercely, ‘was twenty years old and extremely naive!’ She gave a huff of derisive laughter. ‘I’ve grown up a lot in four and a half years, Luc. Enough to know when a man’s only interest is in taking me to bed!’ she added insultingly.

  Luc felt the nerve pulsing in his tightly clenched cheek as he considered how she had learnt such a thing. Apart from that night she had spent with him, that is… How could he not have remembered Annie when they met earlier this morning?

  A part of him had remembered, came the instant answer to that question. An inner part of him had recognised both Annie and the huskiness of her voice. The part of him—that recklessly overindulged young man who had almost ruined his family and caused his father’s heart attack—that Luc had long tried to bury in the deepest, darkest recesses of his mind.

  Until he saw the unicorn tatto
o on her lower back and all of those memories came rushing back with a vengeance.

  Her hair had been longer four years ago, of course—a wild cascade of wavy chestnut curls that reached almost to her waist. Her body had been more youthfully rounded then too, her curves lush rather than athletically toned as they were now, and her face had also been fuller, the cheekbones not so defined.

  But he should have remembered the deep blue of her eyes and those long dark lashes. Should have remembered how he had enjoyed the plump fullness of her lips when he’d kissed them. When she had kissed him, on the lips, and other more intimate parts of his body. He should have remembered—

  ‘I was your first lover!’ he exclaimed.

  The colour flooded briefly back into those pale cheeks. ‘Yes. Well.’ She shifted uncomfortably. ‘Everyone has to start somewhere, don’t they?’

  Except in Annie’s case Luc had been both the start and the finish.

  What would Luc say, what would he do, if she told him that a child had resulted from their night together? That waiting for Annie at her mother’s home was a little boy of almost four, who had Luc’s dark curly hair and sturdy body, and the Balfour blue eyes shining brightly in a face that also bore a very strong resemblance to this man?

  To his father.

  To Luc.

  Annie repressed a shiver of apprehension as she looked up at him, having no doubts that the hard, implacable man Luc now so obviously was took no prisoners. It was there for everyone to see in the hard arrogance of his face and the cold, remorseless darkness of those black uncompromising eyes.

  No prisoners perhaps, but if he were to learn of Oliver’s existence, would Luc want to claim his son?

  And if he did, what would Annie do about it? Oh, she wouldn’t allow him to take Oliver from her, never that, but would Oliver want to know who his father was? One day maybe. And how would Oliver feel once he learnt that Annie could have told his father of his existence now but had chosen not to do so?

  Annie needed time to think. To try to decide what to do for the best. For Oliver’s sake…

  ‘Would you please let go of me now, Luc?’ she requested calmly. ‘I think we’ve drawn enough attention to ourselves for one day, and I have another meeting to go to this afternoon,’ she added.

  Luc’s eyes narrowed as his gaze raked over her face. A face that suddenly completely masked her inner emotions. ‘In that case we will dine together in my hotel suite this evening so that we can continue this conversation.’ He made it a statement rather than a question.

  Her eyes widened. ‘I really don’t think—’

  ‘Think what you like, Annie, but your agreement is the price for my releasing you now,’ he added coolly.

  ‘The price for—!’ Annie glared. ‘You really have turned into an arrogant snake since we last met, haven’t you?’ she seethed.

  Luc gave a hard, humourless smile as he slowly uncurled his fingers from her arm. ‘Perhaps I always was one.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Annie said, aware that the anger she felt was the only reason her knees hadn’t buckled beneath her when Luc released her. This whole thing—meeting Luc again, torn between whether or not she should tell Luc about Oliver and what might happen once she had—was turning into her worst nightmare.

  His mouth tightened. ‘Humour me, Annie.’

  ‘I have a feeling that far too many women have already done that!’ she retorted.

  He gave a rueful smile. ‘Perhaps.’

  Annie sighed her frustration with his obvious intractability. What should she do for the best? Should she tell Luc about Oliver or not? Not to tell him now that she had met him again seemed cruel to both Oliver and Luc, but at the same time Annie feared what Luc might do once he knew he had a three-year-old son.

  She sighed again. ‘OK, Luc, I’ll have dinner with you this evening—on two conditions,’ she added swiftly as she saw the triumphant glitter in the depths of those coal-black eyes. ‘One, that I be allowed to leave when I want to.’

  ‘And if you wish to leave as soon as you have arrived?’

  ‘I won’t.’ She doubted she would be allowed to leave if she decided to tell him about Oliver!

  ‘How can I be sure of that?’

  ‘I don’t lie, remember?’ she pointed out.

  ‘Very well, I agree to your first condition.’

  She looked at him from under long lashes. ‘Two, we dine in the hotel restaurant and not your hotel suite.’

  He smiled mockingly. ‘You are…nervous at the thought of being alone with me?’

  Nervous didn’t even begin to describe Annie’s feelings of apprehension concerning spending more time with him. She was only agreeing to have dinner with him at all because she already knew this older and harder Luc well enough to realise this situation needed closure. One way or another.

  Besides, if she should decide to tell Luc about Oliver during dinner this evening, then Annie knew that the whole of the Balfour family would rise up protectively at any attempt by Luc to take Oliver away from her.

  ‘Not in the least,’ she denied easily as she turned to pick up her towel and bag. ‘I merely believe in the safety of numbers.’

  ‘So you are nervous of being alone with me,’ Luc drawled.

  ‘No, I’m not.’ She flicked back her shoulder-length hair as she turned to meet his gaze unflinchingly. ‘I’m merely hoping that the fact there are other people around—as there are now—will prevent me from giving in to the temptation I have to slap that look of satisfaction off your arrogant face!’

  Luc gave an appreciative grin at this fiery response. ‘I will very much look forward to seeing you again at eight o’clock this evening, Annie.’

  ‘Well, that makes one of us, I suppose!’ she said smartly before turning to stride determinedly up the beach back to the hotel.

  Luc remained standing where he was for several minutes after Annie had disappeared inside the hotel, his eyes narrowed in thoughtful contemplation. He had known her before. Intimately. So very intimately. And she had known him just as intimately.

  The resentment and anger he had sensed in her this morning now made complete sense. The apprehension he had read in her expression a few minutes ago, almost a look of fear, did not.

  What could she possibly have to fear from him?

  Could it be that, like Luc, she grew hot at the memory of that night they had spent together? That she became aroused at the thought of the intimacies they had shared? That no matter how she denied it, they might share those intimacies again?

  Or could Annie’s wariness of him be for another reason entirely…?

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘YOU’RE just in time,’ the woman at the end of the row of seats at the back of the conference room commented as she scooted along so that Annie could sit down beside her.

  Annie had been completely flustered by that encounter with Luc on the beach earlier—by her uncertainty as to whether or not she should tell him about Oliver during dinner this evening—that she’d had very little time to shower and dress in preparation for this afternoon’s meeting.

  Consequently she’d only just managed to get into the conference room before the doors were closed. She sat down hurriedly now as the head of the conference stood to make several announcements before it came time to introduce the guest speaker for the afternoon, her thoughts still on the dilemma of whether or not to tell Luc about their son.

  Oliver was only three years old now, but when he was older he might come to resent the fact that he had grown up without knowing his father. He might actually come to hate Annie for not telling Luc about him—

  ‘I don’t know about you, but he’s the only reason I fought so hard to come on this course,’ the blonde woman beside Annie said in an excited whisper.

  Annie had no idea which ‘he’ the woman was referring to, although she somehow doubted it could be the sixty-year-old chairman of the conference, Daniel Russell. Not that she was particularly interested in the other woman’s conversation. Ho
w could she be, when she was so churned up inside at the thought of what was best for Oliver?

  ‘He almost never appears in public any more, you know,’ the woman continued confidingly.

  ‘Really?’ Annie answered distractedly, her thoughts still firmly on Luc.

  Obviously Luc was Italian, but he’d told her long ago at the ski resort that his home was in Rome, so what was he doing at a hotel in Lake Garda, of all places?

  More to the point, how long did he intend staying here?

  Long enough to have insisted Annie have dinner with him this evening, at least, so that the two of them could ‘talk’!

  ‘—a warm welcome to Luca de Salvatore!’ Daniel Russell announced proudly.

  Annie glanced without interest at the podium, her eyes then widening in disbelief as she stared at the dark-suited man who strode arrogantly onto the slightly raised platform to take his place so confidently behind that podium. It was him!

  Luc.

  No, not Luc, Annie realised as she began to tremble, but Luca de Salvatore.

  Oliver’s father was Luca de Salvatore!

  Anyone who was anyone in the world of business— even the usually stay-at-home Annie—had heard of Luca de Salvatore. It was impossible not to have heard of the man who had taken over the reins of his father’s crumbling business empire several years ago, before ruthlessly cutting the number of employees of that business empire to the bone, and then proceeding to eliminate or simply take over any and all of the competitors who stood in the way of the de Salvatore business empire, retaking its place as one of the most powerful in the world.

  Making Luca de Salvatore, as the head of that extensive and successful business empire, one of the most powerful men in the world…

  Annie had never even guessed, never imagined, that the Luca de Salvatore, spoken of with so much awe and respect by people equally as powerful as he, such as her father, was actually Luc! Her Luc! No, not her Luc, Annie cor rected shakily. He had never been her Luc. One night together four and a half years ago hadn’t made him hers. And Luca de Salvatore, with a well-earned reputation for being coldly ruthless in his personal life as well as in business, had never belonged to any woman.