One Night In Collection

by Various Authors

  ‘You should have everything you need. The bathroom is through there. Just pick up the phone if you need anything and one of the crew will bring it to you.’

  Anna felt as if the world were tilting beneath her as the full horror of his words hit her. A whimper of shame and panic rose in her throat and she concentrated every ounce of self-control she possessed on swallowing it.

  How could I have got it so wrong? How could I have made such a pitiful fool of myself?

  It was pride that enabled her to raise her head and look him in the eye. Muster a small brittle smile. Say a polite, hollow thank you.

  But when the door finally shut behind him she threw herself on to the bed and, seizing a pillow, howled out her fury and humiliation into the muffling layers of finest Siberian goose down.

  Walking away wasn’t easy, but returning to the upper deck, Angelo grimly congratulated himself.

  Whatever he had felt on the beach, she was business, not pleasure.

  He wasn’t a man who was overly troubled by conscience. Life had not showered a steady stream of blessings upon him, so he worked on the principle that if he wanted something he had to get it himself. That had made him ruthless.

  Reckless.

  With money. With rules. With people.

  And tonight he had wanted her, but something had stopped him. Some sort of hitherto undiscovered sense of chivalry, which had prevented him from taking her just because he could.

  Sometimes he wondered if the nuns in the orphanage still prayed for his immortal soul. Maybe, finally, their prayers were being heard. Maybe there was a glimmer of hope that he wouldn’t be consigned to eternal damnation after all.

  He gave a short bitter laugh.

  Or maybe he just wanted to make her wait. Who knew how long it might take to get the sale of the château completed? It wouldn’t do to rush things. The longer he kept her on a slow-burn, the better.

  And the more satisfying.

  In Anna’s dream she was a child again, sitting on her mother’s knee and being rocked.

  She looked up into her mother’s eyes, those blue-green eyes she remembered so well, and then a really odd thing happened. They were her mother’s eyes, but they were also Angelo Emiliani’s eyes, and something about that bothered her. She felt safe, protected, loved, but unaccountably uneasy.

  When she woke up the rocking continued. For a moment she lay there, as fragments of the events of yesterday and last night came back to her. She sat up with a start.

  The boat was moving.

  Throwing herself out of bed, she stood up and looked wildly around her. The view through the window showed nothing but sea and sky. She made a sharp exhalation of fury and had reached the door of the cabin before she stopped.

  She was still stark naked.

  She was in the middle of the ocean and the only items of clothing she had with her were a bikini and a pair of hotpants. Oh, and a sequinned evening scarf—which would no doubt make all the difference should formal dress be required. Collapsing back on to the bed, she pulled the covers up over her head and let out a howl of rage and frustration.

  ‘Ah, so you’re awake.’

  In the darkness beneath the covers she felt her eyes widen in horror and for a second she froze, hoping she’d imagined that dry, mocking voice. But then the covers were drawn back and she found herself staring up into those wicked eyes.

  In the clear light of morning his beauty came as a fresh shock. Naked to the waist and wearing only a pair of long shorts, his blond hair was tousled and untidy. He looked more like a carefree golden surfer-boy than a billionaire businessman.

  Which was horribly unfair.

  Snatching the covers up to cover her breasts, she sat up and glared at him. ‘What the hell is going on?’

  That cool, unruffled smile. ‘I brought you coffee.’

  ‘I don’t want coffee!’

  ‘I believe the polite response is “thank you very much”. I can assure you, you’re very privileged. I don’t usually do this sort of thing, but I looked in on you earlier and you were rather … exposed. My crew can cope with most things, but a naked eco-warrior might just prove too much, even for them.’

  It almost had for him. Lying on top of the cream sheets with her pink hair tumbling over her face and the diamond stud in her navel rising and falling with every sleepy breath, she had looked wild but unbelievably sweet. Like a panther cub. He had to keep reminding himself that if he wasn’t careful she could do real damage.

  Anna took a deep steadying breath and pulled the sheet more tightly around her. Making a huge effort to keep her voice level, she looked up at him.

  ‘Look, Angelo … Last night was …’ Oh, God, don’t blush. Don’t behave like a pathetic, inexperienced kid. Don’t give it away. ‘A huge mistake. I shouldn’t have come here.’

  ‘So why did you?’

  He had set the coffee down on the bedside table and was looking at the newspaper he’d had tucked beneath his arm. He looked totally absorbed, as if what she was saying was a minor distraction.

  ‘I didn’t have much choice,’ she hissed, thoroughly nettled by his obvious unconcern.

  He looked up at her with a slight puzzled inclination of his eyebrows. It was almost as though he’d forgotten she was there for a second. ‘Sorry? That wasn’t how I remember it. I think I asked you if you wanted to go back to your “friends” on the beach—’ he looked back down at the newspaper with a faint smile ‘—and you said no.’

  ‘I didn’t know then that a cruise around the Med was on the itinerary.’

  ‘I see. A quick screw. That’s all you had in mind, was it?’ He glanced back up at her. ‘I’m hurt.’

  He didn’t look hurt. He look supremely unconcerned, hugely pleased with himself. And immensely bloody gorgeous.

  Anna gritted her teeth. ‘We didn’t have sex.’

  ‘No. But you wanted to.’

  Oh, God, the bastard.

  Tugging the sheet, she wound it around herself and got up. Sitting in bed she felt at far too much of a disadvantage to be having this conversation. Standing up, she raked a hand through her hair and made a huge effort to keep the hysteria out of her voice.

  ‘Look, I didn’t have anything in mind. I wasn’t exactly thinking straight. I don’t know—maybe I drank more than I thought. I was upset and—’

  ‘Upset about what?’

  She shook her head. ‘Doesn’t matter,’ she said hastily. ‘What matters now is that I have to get back. I have stuff that I need to do.’

  Rubbing a hand through his already dishevelled hair, he strode towards the door. Anna squeezed her eyes shut as he passed within a few feet of her, unable to trust herself not to reach out and touch the body that had haunted her dreams all night. At the door he paused and looked at her with great seriousness.

  ‘How good are you at swimming?’

  ‘Very good.’

  He nodded gravely. ‘It’s probably about ten kilometres back to shore. Just as well you brought your bikini.’

  Anna gave a howl of rage, picked up a book and hurled it in the direction of his head. It missed and she reached for another, but he was too quick for her. The next thing she knew, he was beside her and had caught her wrist in a steely grip.

  ‘Enough.’

  She let herself relax completely for a moment, until she felt his fingers slacken slightly, then seized her chance and gave an almighty lunge to break free.

  ‘Not enough. Not nearly enough.’

  Her only thought was to put as much distance between them as possible, but the bed was in the way. Clasping the sheet to her, she leapt on to it and stood, legs apart, chest heaving, looking down at him.

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘Well, now you come to mention it …’

  In one swift movement he had reached out and swept her legs from beneath her so that she tumbled down on to the soft cushion of pillows. High on adrenalin, she struggled upright, but he was already on top of her, pinning her arms above her head with one str
ong hand as easily as if she had been a child. Above her, only inches away from her face, his chest curved. If she lifted her head she could probably brush his nipple with her lips. Her breath was coming in huge, shaky gasps, but the rise and fall of his chest was as steady as ever.

  Frantically she thrashed beneath him, desperately trying to ignore the treacherous, tell-tale stickiness at the top of her thighs, praying he wouldn’t notice that she was virtually at the point of orgasm.

  Their eyes met and locked. Neither of them spoke and the only sound was the ragged gasp of Anna’s breathing.

  His eyes glittered down into hers, narrow and knowing. Slowly, lazily he reached out with his free hand and trailed a leisurely finger along her collar-bone. She was no longer holding the sheet—all it would take would be one flick of his wrist and she’d be naked and exposed to his glittering gaze.

  ‘If you were hoping to persuade me to take you back to shore, this is hardly the best way to go about it.’

  Her eyes flashed fire and fury at him.

  ‘Why? Would you prefer it if I begged?’ she spat.

  He laughed huskily and released her wrists. ‘Amore mio, that would be equally alluring, and therefore equally counter-productive.’

  She rolled out from beneath him, not trusting herself to spend one more second in such close proximity with his long golden body. ‘I’m not hoping to persuade you of anything. I’m demanding that you take me back. Today.’

  ‘Or else?’

  ‘Or else I’ll call the police.’

  ‘You have your mobile?’

  ‘You know I haven’t’

  She had nothing, and he knew it. Not a change of clothes, not a toothbrush, and certainly not a mobile. Furiously she swung her legs out of the bed and stood up, yanking the sheet from under him and wrapping it around herself again.

  He sighed and stood up.

  ‘So I guess you’ll be wanting me to lend you my satellite phone, which is a bit much considering you intend to use it to have me arrested for … well, what? Kidnapping you? Forcing myself upon you against your will?’

  She blushed. ‘No.’

  If only.

  Unhurriedly he ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up in spiky golden tufts that only served to accentuate his perfect bone structure. Turning towards the door, he said, ‘In that case, may I just suggest you come along for the ride? You never know, you might learn something.’

  She tossed her head and threw him a disdainful look. ‘What could I possibly learn from you?’

  He paused and half turned back, studying her silently for a moment with his head tilted to one side.

  ‘We’re heading for a property I finished work on last year. It’s been bought by a certain celebrity with a bit of an environmental conscience and developed to be as environmentally friendly as possible. I’d like to show it to you. Maybe you’ll learn not to believe everything that’s been written about me. Maybe you’ll find I’m not the devil incarnate after all.’

  ‘I doubt it,’ she spat. But he had already gone and she was speaking to a closed door.

  CHAPTER SIX

  TWO hours later Anna had to admit that, whatever Angelo Emiliani was, life aboard his yacht wasn’t at all bad. She had idled away some time in the spa pool, until the steward, Paulo, had brought her a delicious brunch of fresh fruit and warm, sweet brioche and coffee, and now she was lounging on the soft white cushions feeling heavy and replete.

  There was something very liberating about being out in the middle of the ocean. Something therapeutic about literally sailing away from your problems. Last night, and Saskia’s malice, seemed light years ago. Here there was no need to apologise for who she was.

  Who she wasn’t.

  She had spent her early life feeling torn between England and France—Ifford Park and Château Belle-Eden—but, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back against the cushioned lounger, she realised she’d missed the obvious solution. Somewhere in between.

  ‘Anna.’

  Her eyes opened slowly and she stretched luxuriously. ‘Hmm?’

  ‘I don’t know what you do for a real job, but you certainly could sleep on a professional basis. It’s time to wake up. We’re here.’

  Anna stumbled to her feet quickly. Too quickly. There was a roaring in her ears and she almost lost her balance.

  Angelo’s hand shot out to steady her and when the fog cleared from behind her eyes she found herself staring at the bronzed plane of his chest. She shook him off and took a step backwards.

  ‘I don’t usually sleep like that. I don’t know what came over me. Maybe it’s the sea air.’

  He was looking at her with unconcealed amusement. ‘It certainly can’t be the exercise—although not for want of trying.’

  Why could he make her blush so easily?

  His gaze swept down over her, taking in the skimpy bikini top and minute denim hotpants. ‘Before we go ashore, would you like to get changed into something a little more … discreet?’

  ‘Oh, yes. Silly me. I’ll just go and choose something from the selection of cruisewear I packed in preparation for this trip, shall I?’

  ‘I’m sure I can find something that would fit.’

  ‘Why, Angelo, how fascinating. Do you have a large selection of ladies’ clothes in your wardrobe?’

  ‘No, but I have a number of visitors to the yacht who’ve left things.’

  ‘Oh, puh-leese. If you think I’m going to wear something belonging to one of your harem of mistresses, you can think again.’

  ‘I don’t know why you find the thought so unpleasant, tesoro. I recall that last night you were pretty keen to join them. Anyway, if you’re going to be stubborn …’

  She looked at him for a moment, speechless with humiliation and loathing.

  ‘Let’s just go, shall we?’

  Arriving at the private landing stage of Villa Santa Domitilla, Angelo held out his hand to help Anna from the tender. She ignored it.

  ‘Where are we?’

  Angelo was already halfway along the boarded walkway and spoke over his shoulder. ‘Let’s just say it’s one of Italy’s undiscovered islands. The celebrity who’s bought this property would be extremely unhappy about having its location given away. Especially to known troublemakers.’

  ‘I thought you said it was very environmentally friendly?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Well, in that case, they have nothing to fear from us. It’s only projects that put personal profit before responsibility to the planet that we campaign against.’

  Why do I bother? He’s not even listening, she thought furiously as she trailed after him up a set of steep steps cut into the rock. Despite the fact that it was scorching hot, Anna was annoyed to see how cool Angelo looked in a pair of long cotton surf shorts and a white linen shirt.

  Why hadn’t she taken up his offer of borrowing something to wear? Despite her olive skin, she could already feel the sun burning on to her shoulders and she felt uncomfortably exposed in the tiny bikini top and hotpants.

  Exposed and—when she saw the magnificent honey-coloured house in front of them—entirely underdressed.

  ‘It used to be an old convent,’ Angelo explained, keying a number into the security pad beside the huge wrought iron gates. ‘The thickness of the stone walls made it ideal from an energy-saving point of view.’ The gates swung open and he sauntered through, while she hung back.

  ‘What’s the matter? I thought you’d be desperate to see all your principles in practice.’

  Folding her arms, Anna looked up at the building. ‘I’m not going in.’

  ‘I see. Why not?’

  ‘I don’t need the whole marketing and PR package, Angelo. I’m sure you’re very good at talking the talk. It won’t change anything.’

  He’d stopped and now began to stroll slowly back towards her. His long limbs moved like liquid. Pure animal grace.

  She swallowed.

  He shrugged. ‘So, just enjoy the trip. So
on enough it’ll get out who’s bought this place and you’ll be able to tell all your friends that you’ve been here.’ He carried on walking up the narrow path to the front of the villa.

  She stamped her foot and followed him up the path. ‘I wouldn’t stoop to celebrity name-dropping,’ she said scornfully. ‘I couldn’t care less who this house belongs to, it doesn’t alter the fact that what you’re planning to do at Château Belle-Eden is wrong!’

  Smiling to himself, Angelo resisted the temptation to turn round and look at her.

  Perhaps it wasn’t fair to tease her, but he couldn’t help it. She was so quick to rise to the bait and so funny when she was angry. And she was such a bloody cliché, with her tired old environmental platitudes.

  He frowned.

  A cliché, but a mystery too. He still wasn’t entirely sure who she was. His PA in London was right now trying to find information on Anna Field, but when he’d spoken to her just before setting out had come up with nothing. It was possible that she was a runaway, of no fixed address, which would explain why she had fallen in with those appalling campaigners. They probably had some sort of group squat.

  The thought horrified him.

  Reaching the front door of the villa, he stopped and waited for her. She was a little way behind him and he watched her trail slowly up the path, between the artfully planted ‘wildflower’ borders which his celebrity client had commissioned at a cost of thousands from Italy’s top garden designer. The shadows played across her glistening amber-coloured skin, the sunlight glinting off the diamond in her navel. A bumblebee, heavy and clumsy with pollen, blundered through the flowers and came to land on her arm. She stopped, her tongue darting out between moist pink lips as, with an expression of rapt concentration, she carefully scooped it into her hand and placed it on a leaf. It was the first time he’d seen her give in to the softness he sensed beneath that rebellious veneer, and he felt an unexpected twist in his gut.

  Anna looked up at the building in front of her. It was solid and square, a cloistered walkway running the length of the ground floor and providing a sheltered position for olive and citrus trees in huge terracotta pots. The golden stone was mellow with age, and the overall impression was of timeless peace and spirituality.