by Annie West
‘Did she have drugs?’
Alissa nodded. She’d been desperate to get Donna out, away from the guy with the sweaty, possessive hands who was all over her kid sister, away from the poison she’d been putting in her body. Even now, if Alissa shut her eyes, she could imagine the throb of mind-numbing music, smell the rank scent of crowded bodies, see Donna...
‘You took the drugs from her when the police raided, didn’t you?’
‘What else could I do? She’s my little sister!’ For a moment longer she met his piercing grey eyes then turned away. ‘It was best in the long run. The shock of my arrest convinced Donna to get help. She’s been clean ever since.’
Much good that would do now she’s dying.
Alissa’s lip wobbled and she bit down fiercely, refusing to give in to fear. They’d find a way. Donna would get her treatment. She’d survive.
‘Alissa.’ His voice tugged her back from her thoughts. ‘I’m sorry. Sorry for everything. I—’
‘No!’ She leapt to her feet, staring into a face etched in slashing, spare lines that might even signify pain. Into eyes shadowed with regret. ‘I don’t want to hear any apologies. Not now.’
Her emotions were too raw, too confused for her to cope with any more. She ached with disappointment and fury. Against them both: him for discovering her carnal, selfish weakness and her for giving in to it, despite the dictates of self-respect and duty.
‘All I want is the money I earned last night.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
‘YOU LOOK MUCH better now, sweetheart.’ Alissa smiled into the wan features so like her own and gave thanks. Even now, so soon after her treatment, Donna was much improved. It was everything Alissa had hoped and prayed for.
‘Don’t exaggerate.’ Donna smiled weakly from her hospital bed. ‘I’ve seen the mirror.’
‘I know what I see, and it’s all good. David is as smitten now as he was four months ago when you married. He thinks you’re the most beautiful girl in the world.’
Donna’s eyes softened at the mention of her husband, just as his did whenever she was around.
It must be wonderful to share that kind of love. A squiggle of emotion stirred inside Alissa, the same sensation she felt whenever she saw her sister and brother-in-law so blatantly in love. It wasn’t jealousy. She didn’t begrudge them their happiness. Yet Alissa couldn’t help wishing she too could experience that sort of devotion.
Inevitably her mind turned to Dario, the silent, distant, ultra-efficient man who’d arranged Donna’s treatment. He’d seen to it she jumped to the top of the specialist’s patient list. He’d organised everything, including a nearby apartment for David and a manager for the property in their absence. He’d hired a luxurious house for himself and Alissa a short walk from the hospital.
Donna and David thought those were the actions of a besotted husband. Only Alissa knew they were the result of a guilty conscience.
Dario would never look at her with wonder in his eyes. He didn’t want a long-term lover, at least not one like her. His tastes ran to tall brunettes, not short, sassy redheads. Their night together had been an aberration. He hadn’t touched her since. One night was all it had taken to cure him of his desire. Pain scoured her at the thought.
‘Just like the way Dario looks at you,’ Donna said.
Alissa dredged up a smile, playing along with the fiction. ‘Dario has too much control to wear his heart on his sleeve.’
‘That’s what you think. You don’t see how he looks at you when you’re not watching.’ Donna shook her finger knowingly. ‘His eyes go all hot and hungry. Honestly, it makes me burn up just seeing it. Especially since he’s such a hunk. No wonder you couldn’t resist him.’
Alissa stared at her sister, her automatic denial disintegrating on her tongue. How she longed for that to be true. Even knowing Donna was exaggerating, Alissa felt her heart give a fillip of excitement.
Much as she tried to despise her husband for the unholy bargain he’d forced on her, she couldn’t deny her attraction to him. It was as strong as ever.
Stronger. For now she knew the ecstasy to be found in his embrace. The tender way he treated a lover, as if she was the only woman in the world.
The fact that he was driven now by remorse, so attentive to her needs, to her sister and her husband, revealed him as a man trying to atone. There’d been no mistaking his shock when he’d learned about Donna.
‘You should spend more time with him, instead of spending your days with me.’
‘Why do you think I’m in the States?’ Alissa smiled, thinking how great it was to have Donna well enough to fantasise about her older sister’s non-existent love life. ‘It’s for you, sweetie.’ She brushed a lock of hair from Donna’s face. The maternal gesture was completely natural. Alissa had been looking after her since their mum died.
‘But you could fit in a second honeymoon with your gorgeous husband.’ Donna waggled her eyebrows.
Alissa forced a laugh past her choked throat. Weeks ago, when she’d confronted Dario after their night of passion, she’d thought she’d never want to be intimate with him again. Now the knowledge that he slept in the massive suite next to hers tortured her with guilty longing. She wished he’d return to Sicily instead of working here with two secretaries and a barrage of phones.
Surely if he wasn’t here she wouldn’t feel this edginess? This hunger for his touch?
Was it because she’d never been with another man? She hadn’t known how spectacular sex could be. She recalled Dario’s taunting voice, telling her she had a talent for pleasure. Heat flared in her cheeks. Could he be right?
Right or not, it was clear she no longer held any appeal for him. He was scrupulously distant and reserved.
‘Alissa?’
‘Sorry. I was miles away.’
‘But not happy thoughts. Don’t you want a second honeymoon?’
Did she? Alissa bit her lip, realising she did. Despite his managing ways and their disastrous relationship to date, she wanted Dario. Desperately.
It was desire but it was more too. An unbreakable connection. When he entered a room she shivered, hoping and fearing he’d take her in his arms. The comfort she’d found in his embrace was magical, though she told herself she should despise him. She even missed their verbal sparring!
He was her guilty secret.
‘Alissa? What’s wrong?’ Donna’s voice was sharp. ‘It’s about the marriage, isn’t it? I knew there was something you weren’t telling me.’
Alissa met her sister’s penetrating stare and silently cursed. Donna was far too acute sometimes.
‘Why should there be anything wrong? As you say, I’ve married a gorgeous hunk who swept me off my feet.’
‘Except you’re not the sort to be swept off your feet. You always had guys trying to catch your interest, but you ignored them. Men have never been your weakness, not like me.’ She hung her head.
‘Don’t!’ Alissa squeezed her hand. This wasn’t the moment to revisit the past, when rebellion had led Donna into promiscuity with the worst sort of guys. ‘That’s over. You have David now.’
‘I have, haven’t I?’ Her quick smile faded. ‘But what about Dario? Your romance was so sudden. And I always thought you wanted to live alone after Granddad.’ She paused. ‘Dario just burst onto the scene around the time you said you’d find a way to...’ Her words ended in a gasp.
‘You’re imagining problems where there are none,’ Alissa began. ‘Dario and I—’
‘He’s the one, isn’t he? The one Granddad wanted you to marry? The mega-rich Sicilian!’ Horror dawned in Donna’s voice. Tenaciously she gripped Alissa’s hand. ‘Tell me you didn’t marry him for my sake. For the money.’
‘Of course not. I...’ Under Donna’s stare, she heard her words peter out. Alissa had never lied to her sister. Except about this. ‘We just...’
The door to the private room swung open and Donna’s doctor, flanked by a phalanx of junior medicos, entered.
‘Mrs Kincaid. I’m glad you’re awake. I have the results of your tests.’
* * *
Dario strode to his bedroom. He’d worked past midnight again, hoping to dull the emotions swirling inside him and upsetting his equilibrium. Guilt and regret as well as desire. The unabashed hunger for the woman he’d manipulated and, in his arrogance, abused.
For the first time ever he was ashamed of his actions. Yet even shame couldn’t blunt the keen edge of his need. She despised him. Hell! He despised himself. Yet he craved her. Her spirit, her strength, her firebrand attitude, the way she stood up to him and refused to be dominated.
The way she gave herself so unstintingly to physical passion. The way she made him feel.
He worked nineteen-, twenty-hour days, trying to exorcise her from his mind. Yet it was fruitless. For the first time, rebuilding the Parisi fortune and prestige held no allure.
He didn’t understand how she fired this craving in the blood. Despite her guts and beauty, she was nothing like the woman he’d planned to take as his life partner.
His footsteps slowed as he passed her room. He hadn’t seen her this evening. She’d stayed late at the hospital and he’d kept to his office.
He paused. That was when he heard muffled weeping. Instantly he tensed. Through everything she’d never cried. Except when he took her virginity. He’d convinced himself then that she’d wept in ecstasy.
This sounded like despair. His gut twisted. What could make his courageous wife cry as though her heart had broken?
He shoved open the door and stepped inside. She was hunched on the window seat, arms wrapped round her knees. Her feet were bare, her hair a tangled swathe of coppery red burning like fire in the lamplight. She wore a shapeless sleep shirt that was downright ugly with its inane cartoon characters printed on pale cotton.
She looked perfect.
His insides clenched at the sight of her. Desire, need and something more. Something...warm and protective.
‘Alissa.’ In an instant he crossed the room, hands in pockets to prevent himself reaching out. She’d feel contaminated by his touch. Helplessly he watched her shake as a tremor racked her. ‘What is it? Speak to me.’
* * *
Hearing Dario’s voice, Alissa gulped down the salty knot of emotion filling her throat and scrubbed her hand across her eyes. She hadn’t seen him for days and now he had to find her like this.
‘Alissa! Tell me what’s wrong.’ His voice was rough, that gravel-over-satin tone she’d last heard in his bed. Something unravelled inside and her breathing snared like a bird in a hunter’s net.
‘Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine.’
‘It doesn’t look like nothing.’ Long fingers clasped her chin and turned her face up. Tendrils of forbidden delight wove out from his touch. She was so susceptible.
She scowled. Had she interrupted his sleep? But a glance showed he wore dark trousers and a white shirt. Her gaze dropped from his intense expression to the V of golden skin at his collar-bone. She breathed deep but only succeeded in filling her lungs with his scent.
An instant later he hunkered beside her, his heat enfolding her as he wrapped his arm round her back.
‘Is it your sister? Is it bad news?’
Alissa shook her head, feeling more foolish than ever. ‘N-no. She’s all right. The doctor came with the f-final test results.’ Desperately she tried to master her voice. ‘It will take her a long time to recuperate but the treatment was a success.’ Her lips pulled tight in a trembling smile. ‘She’s going to live.’
A large palm circled slowly between her shoulder blades. ‘Then what’s the matter?’ He was so close Alissa could feel the puff of his warm breath on her cheek. She bit her lip. ‘Alissa?’
‘I d-don’t know!’ It was a wail of despair. She should be ecstatic. She was ecstatic. This was the best news. What was wrong with her that she couldn’t just rejoice?
She’d shared a celebratory dinner in the hospital with Donna and David then made her excuses, knowing they needed time alone. She’d been fine as she entered the elegant house Dario had hired with its discreet smell of money and its plush, indifferent silence. Her smile had waned on the way up the magnificent empty staircase. By the time she’d soaked in the travertine spa there’d been a curious ache in her chest. Then something had cracked inside and she’d collapsed, bawling her eyes out.
‘I never cry,’ she sobbed. ‘Never.’
‘Shh. I know. I know.’ His arm tightened and she burrowed closer.
She felt as if a dam had split, smashing under the force of a welter of emotions. Through everything she’d been tough, never giving up hope. She’d been strong for Donna even in the darkest hours, first with their grandfather, then during Donna’s addiction and illness. She’d fought Dario’s demands too, every step of the way.
But now...Alissa had lost the strength that had sustained her for so long. She was confused and afraid.
Strong arms drew her up against a hard chest.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Putting you to bed. You can’t stay there all night.’
Alissa didn’t mean to snuggle against him. He was the enemy, the man who’d put her through hell and somehow bewitched her soul. Yet she couldn’t resist leaning into him as he scooped her up. She wanted to revel in the illusion that she was protected and cared for. Cherished.
Minutes later she lay huddled at the centre of her too big bed. Shivers racked her until he slid in behind her and pulled the covers up.
‘No. Don’t!’ She tensed and scrabbled to escape. ‘I don’t want—’
‘Shh, Alissa, I’m going to hold you. Nothing more.’ He wrapped his arms round her and pulled her against the furnace-like heat of his bare chest. Caution told her not to let down her guard but something deep inside urged her to trust him.
Her need for comfort was too strong. She slumped against him, grateful beyond words that he was here. She didn’t understand what was happening. Never had she experienced this loss of control. She sniffed back the despised tears and turned her head into the pillow.
‘You’re overwrought. You need to get warm.’
Overwrought! She’d never had the luxury of giving in to nerves. She was the strong one, the protector, even sometimes the scapegoat, putting herself between Donna and the old man when his temper grew dangerous.
‘What’s wrong with your arm? Have you hurt yourself?’ She looked down to find she’d been rubbing her forearm. It was a nervous gesture she hardly noticed now.
‘It’s an old injury. It doesn’t hurt any more.’
‘What happened?’ His words feathered her ear and a sliver of heat pierced her, warming her from the inside.
Alissa stared across the room, stunned to be sharing a bed with Dario, soaking up his warmth and reassured by his presence. It was insane, but it was real. It felt so good.
‘Alissa?’
What did it matter? There was no point in secrets now.
‘I broke my arm a few years ago when my grandfather knocked me off balance and I fell down a flight of stairs.’
The sudden spasm of Dario’s arms around her midriff robbed her of breath.
‘Dio buono! You could have been killed.’
‘I was lucky.’ She watched his hand curl round her wrist, stroking as if to soothe the long-dead pain. The sight of him touching her, the sensation of his caress, unknotted some of her coiled tension.
‘How did it happen?’
‘One good, hard push.’ Her lips twisted on the memory.
‘It was deliberate?’ His voice was a husky croak of disbelief.
‘With my grandfather it was always deliberate.’ There was a sense of release at sharing the truth. Residual anger against the old man was enough to banish her teary weakness, for now at least. ‘He made my mother’s life hell when she brought us to his home after our father deserted us. When she died the old man turned his attention to me and Donna. Necessary chastisement he called it.’ The
bitter taste of memories coloured her words.
Dario’s iron-hard arm around her waist tightened even as his touch on her arm gentled. Alissa suppressed a sigh as that simple, tender caress eased her bone-deep tension. He had such power to heal as well as to hurt.
‘No one saw?’
She snorted in disgust. ‘No one wanted to see. I tried to get help when I was young, when I was worried for Donna. But it was easier to turn a blind eye, especially as my grandfather was an important man. He had money, power and reputation. No one wanted to know. He ensured the town believed I was ungrateful and unruly, causing trouble.’
Alissa drew a shaky breath. ‘He was obsessed with controlling our lives, from who we met to how we dressed. The worst wasn’t the beatings but the mind games, the manipulation, the continual battle for dominance. If he’d had his way we’d never have made a decision for ourselves.’
* * *
Each word plunged into Dario’s brain like a stiletto blade. His meeting with Gianfranco Mangano had confirmed the old man was the sort of snake with whom he’d never normally do business. Only Dario’s vow to his long-dead parents, his vow to retrieve what they hadn’t been able to, had made him swallow his pride and deal with such a man.
He remembered the glitter in Mangano’s eyes as he’d complained of his granddaughter’s wild ways and her need to learn obedience. The vengeful twist to his mouth had been ugly as he’d declared his intention to marry her to a ‘strong man’ who’d keep her out of trouble.
At the time Dario had believed the unscrupulous old swindler had simply reaped what he’d sown in the form of a granddaughter as appalling as he.
Dario slid his fingers over the soft skin of Alissa’s inner arm, amazed at the strength of this tiny woman. His stomach clenched at the history of abuse she’d revealed.
Wrath, white-hot and untrammelled, fired his blood. Animals like Mangano didn’t deserve the blessing of a family. Especially not when others, loving and responsible, were denied the chance to grow old with their children.
Alissa felt so small and defenceless cocooned in his arms. He hated the thought of her hurting. Of her fighting such battles with no one to protect her.
