Bound by the Italian's Contract

by Janette Kenny

  He crossed to her and took her in his arms, loosely caging her there as he bent for a kiss. Sweet as honey. “The time frame is totally up to you. I am not rushing you.”

  She planted her palms on his chest and sighed, her gaze pausing at his chin before lifting to meet his eyes. “I know, but I want to finish your contract so I can get busy on Tregore Lodge. There’s much to do there.”

  “You are anxious to return home.”

  “Of course,” she said, chin coming up. “I’ve never hidden that fact.”

  “No, you haven’t.”

  She’d stated her priorities up front. How could he argue with that?

  “We will leave when you are ready,” he said, striding to the door. “I’ll wait for you in the great room.”

  * * *

  Within an hour, his housekeeper had arrived with supplies and petrol for the ATV and Caprice was ready to leave. Her anxiousness annoyed him, despite the fact he’d expected her to react just as she had. He’d had no doubts she would abide by their contract, but what of their relationship? Was it over in her eyes? Would he be able to seduce her into his bed again?

  He would. Somehow, someway.

  The drive back to the village was uneventful, save the brief pause he made at the site of the avalanche. Plows had cleared a wide path in the track and had heavy gravel packed on the roadbed. But it wouldn’t last the winter.

  To his surprise her arms crept around his waist, and she rested her head on his shoulder. “If not for your swift reactions, we would have died.”

  He nodded, feeling a chill pass through him. “If I’m the cat with nine lives, I had better start using caution as I’ve expended at least five of them.”

  “On the slopes?”

  “Not all of them.”

  “Oh?”

  He shrugged. “I went through a rather reckless phase in my life.”

  She sat up, denying him the pleasure of her closeness. “I suppose all boys do that, especially if they are athletes.”

  And especially if they suffered betrayal and deceit from the one person they loved and trusted. “It’s a rite of passage for most, but I cannot blame my exploits on youth.”

  “Really?” she asked, her small hands resting on his shoulders, reminding him of how tightly she’d held on to him when she’d climaxed. “What spurred your recklessness?”

  He sucked in a breath and blew it out, letting the pain of that period in his life knife through him, wanting to remember every single detail so he wouldn’t repeat mistakes. “My divorce. It was messy at the end.”

  Silence echoed in the mountains before she finally broke it. “Want to talk about it?”

  “No.” Talking about his dead ex-wife with his current lover was the very last thing he ever wished to do. “We need to get moving.”

  And with that he threw the ATV into gear and sped back down the track, mindful of the woman behind him. Of the lack of contact he received from her now.

  She was shelving him away. Her wild romance in the Alps was over for her. She would delve into her work, avoiding him whenever possible.

  So would he, but he wasn’t done with her yet. No, he’d barely begun. Before the week was out, he would have her in his arms again, willing and wild.

  * * *

  Caprice sat behind Luciano, refusing to grasp the rails for balance instead of the tall, strong man maneuvering the ATV with precision and speed down the rutted trail. Instead of the bracing odor of evergreens and fresh air, she was enveloped by the enticing scent of Luciano.

  She supposed it had been inevitable that they fall into each other’s arms, finally indulging in the passion that she’d felt toward him for years. For him she understood it was simply having sex.

  Fine. She didn’t want ties here. Didn’t want to lose her heart. This was never supposed to be anything more than a fling. A chance encounter to explore passions. To replace horrible, ugly memories with something beautiful. Something that was her choice.

  She had a life and career waiting for her in Colorado. She had aspirations of independence. Of having a peaceful, happy, fulfilled life.

  Not once had she thought that she would let Luciano get to her heart again. But she had. Even now it was as if he were pulsing in her blood and stroking her skin. If she closed her eyes she felt him coursing thick and hot through her body, tugging and pushing her over the edge of passion when she least expected it.

  He’d left her out of control. Reckless, not with her body but with her heart.

  That was where she’d failed before. As an athlete she’d had a margin of upper edge over physical balance. But that training didn’t carry over into emotional stability. It didn’t shield her heart from the onslaught of emotions she couldn’t stop or control.

  And that terrified her.

  She was comfortable when she was in control. When she was with Luciano, she was horribly off balance. And to think it had only taken him a few days to break down the barriers she’d built around her heart.

  For three days and nights she’d made love with him every possible way. Her choice. She’d wanted pleasure from him. Perhaps if she was honest she wanted to revisit the past, to do over what had gone so horribly wrong one cold winter night.

  But she hadn’t wanted to involve her heart. Hadn’t wanted to fall a bit more in love with him as the minutes passed. Love?

  Ha! How could she love a man who’d rejected her before? Who only wanted her for sex now? Never mind that she’d told herself she wanted this affair with him for pure pleasure. She’d been the one to seduce him.

  That realization left no room for complaints. They were getting what they wanted from each other at the moment. As she’d told him, when the job was over, so was their fling.

  Those words reminded her that she was tied to him for the duration of their contract. She would still have him in her bed, his strong arms banding around her while his steely length pulsed inside her, filling her with heat and passion. Banishing the emptiness within her.

  But staying here with him meant she wouldn’t be free of the crazy nervous upheaval of emotions rioting within her. That wouldn’t happen until she left Italy and Luciano. Then she’d be free.

  She was strong enough to have an affair and walk away with only battered emotions. She would survive.

  She would welcome these memories of Luciano over those that haunted her with his old friend.

  That was the promise she made to herself as she lifted her face to the setting sun. When her job here was finished, she would dredge up the courage to walk away with her head held proud, no matter how much a part of her would stay with him forever.

  Luciano topped another undulating rise and she spied the village just below. He whipped over one long easy slope and they were there in the thick of it. Shop owners paused to wave as they passed. And up on the high step rose the majestic la Duchi Royal.

  She drank it all in and reveled in the sensory buzz that hummed like a swarm of happy bees. Here she could get back to work instead of chasing hot pursuits with Luciano. She would distance herself from him during the day. If timing permitted, she would spend time with him at night.

  If not? So be it. She couldn’t think any other way and remain sane.

  Once she focused her thoughts on installing her program in Luciano’s new facility, this hurt needling her heart would ease. At the least she wouldn’t have time to dwell on herself, she thought as he wheeled the ATV under the lodge’s porte cochere.

  With the sun at their backs, the pale pink marble columns turned a warm apricot. An attendant rushed to help her off the ATV, but Luciano was quicker, swinging off and offering his hand to her. She stared at the strong hand that had touched her in places no other man had with warmth and passion, well aware that refusing it was an insult.

  But her pride rode stro
ng in her now, and she needed to strike independence, if only in a small way.

  “Thanks, but I can manage,” she said, and got off on the side opposite of Luciano.

  His lips drew into a thin line. “Very well. I’ll leave you to find your room.”

  He swung back onto the ATV and revved the engine, shooting off like a rocket. She hadn’t intended to hurt his feelings, but judging by his actions, she had.

  She stood there a long moment until she could no longer see him, then strode inside the lodge, trying not to feel sorry for her actions and failing. Spite was something she never felt, but Luciano brought emotions and feelings out in her that she’d never experienced before. This one she didn’t like.

  When she saw him again, she’d apologize. That was all she could do at this point.

  She hurried inside, but instead of seeking her room, she walked to the therapy pod. Before she chased up the design team, she wanted to have another look at the space without Luciano. He had a way of muddling her thoughts and she needed a clear head for this. If she wanted changes made to the submitted plan, it would have to be decided today.

  Without Luciano’s presence, the therapy pod appeared far larger. She walked the space, envisioning how each area would look and function. One certainly worked hand in hand with the other in regard to therapy, a fact she’d leaned early in her training.

  Nothing appeared off, yet she couldn’t shake her sense of unease. What caused it?

  She stepped around the wall into the last area, which boasted a turret-like charm to it, and smothered her surprised gasp with a hand pressed to her mouth. A man sat in a wheelchair, his back to her.

  Her chest tightened. She instantly recognized the impressive width of broad shoulders and the arrogant cant of his head.

  “Julian,” she said softly.

  He wheeled the chair around and flashed her that winning smile. “I see my brother was successful in contracting you to rehabilitate me. You’ve wasted your time.”

  So he was a hard case, just as Luciano had told her. “He hired me to establish my therapy program here,” she said, hoping that would ease the former athlete’s resentment. “I could use your help.”

  Instead of responding to that lure, Julian spun the chair around and returned his gaze to the mountains. “I suppose he chose this pod for that?”

  “He did.”

  “Groomed pistes for the cripples,” he said, his tone mocking again. “Oh, wait, you prefer the term ‘alternative skier.’”

  “Bitterness doesn’t become you, Julian,” she said.

  He hung his head, a muscle twitching along his jaw. “Sorry. I’ve had a rough day.”

  As had she, tacked on to a whirlwind three days with Luciano in a mountain hideaway. But she couldn’t voice that. In fact she was at a loss how to reach Julian.

  “Scusa, Jules,” came a cultured masculine voice behind her, a voice that scraped along her nerves to free a memory she’d locked away.

  Her breath froze in her lungs and her skin crawled. It couldn’t be!

  She prayed she was hearing things as she followed Julian’s gaze to the newcomer. No joke, no mistake. Less than sixteen feet from her stood the man from her nightmares. The lift of his head and narrowing of his eyes were proof that he recognized her.

  Run, her instincts screamed. Hide. Get as far from this animal as you can. But even if she could force her feet to move, that would give him the satisfaction of intimidating her again. Worse, it would raise questions, and she wanted her attack buried in a deep, dark pit.

  She wouldn’t show fear and she wouldn’t cower to him, no matter how hellish it was to be in the same room with this beast. And being in the same room with this animal who had raped her was pure torture.

  “Mario, you remember Caprice Tregore, Luc’s assistant during the World Cup in Val d’Isère?” Julian asked, and a part of her died fearing what Mario Godolphin would say.

  Her former attacker’s mouth curled into a cruel smile, but his dark eyes remained narrowed. “Yes, I remember Miss Tregore. How good to see you again.”

  She mumbled something resembling an acknowledgement.

  Bastard! Had she come to his mind as much as he’d tormented her nightmares for years? She hoped not! She hoped he couldn’t remember the details that haunted her.

  “Tell me, Mario. Has my brother secured your firm for the completion of the therapy pod?” Julian asked, and her blood froze at the insane thought of dealing with Mario.

  “We are discussing things,” he said in a noncommittal tone.

  A shiver rocketed through her. There was no way she would tolerate this man designing her therapy unit. But how could she express that to Luciano without telling him the ugly truth?

  “Please, think about what I asked,” she said, pressing a hand to Julian’s shoulder before she strode out the door, hoping her attacker wouldn’t follow.

  She made it halfway down the corridor before she stole a look behind her. She was alone. Mario had stayed there.

  Mario. He’d altered her life completely, spurring her to leave the world she had once loved.

  For days, weeks, months after her rape she’d dreaded running into him again. Her phobia was so great and her pain so crippling that she’d pulled out of competition.

  And she was glad she had.

  Soon after her retirement and the horrific accident that removed the Duchelini brothers from the chase for gold, Mario had stepped in to dominate the ski world. It was the logical way of things.

  For years, the ski world had been abuzz over the duo Italian champions. Luciano always took first place while Mario snared the second slot.

  They were a one-two punch on the slopes that nobody could best. When Luciano retired from competition, Mario had a short run of being the best.

  She’d been aware of his dominance in the sport, his name batted about everywhere in Colorado, unknowingly tossing coals on the pain that burned in her.

  Then, within four years, he’d faded from the news, which was a relief to her. In fact, she’d never once considered that she would ever cross paths with Mario. She’d certainly never entertained the idea of working with him, even remotely.

  It just wasn’t possible. The idea of forcing her to do so turned her stomach.

  But whether that happened or not, she would return home as soon as possible. There was no way she could stay and finish what she’d barely started, even though abandoning her job would kill all plans for her lodge.

  She had to retreat to her safe zone. And abandon her dream?

  No! Running away would convince Mario he’d bested her again. But how could she stay here, knowing he could come upon her any second?

  Her mind whirled with a solution as she waited for the elevator door to open, but nothing was coming to mind. Nothing except the urge to find Luciano and throw herself into his arms. Strong fingers wrapped around her arm and held tight and her heart nearly stopped.

  Had Mario found her? Was she in his grip again?

  She tried to twist free, panic bubbling up her throat when she couldn’t break his hold. “I’ll scream if you don’t let go of me.”

  “Bella,” Luciano said, enfolding her trembling body against his, pulling her into his arms. “What has terrified you so?”

  How was she supposed to answer that? Certainly not with the truth, not when her attacker was in the lodge, clearly a friend of Julian’s and of Luciano’s as well. Dear God, what a monumental mistake she’d made aligning herself with an Italian, even if he was a man she’d started to trust again.

  She wanted to be strong and push him away, presenting a brave face. Wanted so desperately to shun his comfort. But held close against his muscled chest, where she heard the steady drum of his heart, she was lost, burrowing against him like a child in a storm, tears smarting her eyes
.

  If only the past hadn’t happened. If only...

  “Come.” He escorted her down the hall to his private elevator and pressed his thumb on the security pad.

  “I’m okay,” she said as the door swished open seconds later.

  “No, you are not.” He ushered her inside and punched the up button, all the while keeping her caged in his embrace.

  “Really, I’m fine. Maybe I’m still jumpy over the avalanche,” she said, and yet she was reluctant to let go of him.

  His sigh rumbled through her. “That was a horrific experience.”

  She loosed a nervous laugh. “One I never wish to repeat.”

  He clasped her shoulders and levered her from him, his shrewd gaze scrutinizing her. “I should have refused to take you up there.”

  “It happened, like most accidents do. It’s over. If I have flashbacks they are mine to deal with.”

  “As well I know,” he said bitterly, looking away.

  She cupped his jaw and forced his gaze back to her. It was far easier to be the inquisitor than the one questioned. “You revisit the accident again and again?”

  “Playing shrink again?” he asked.

  “Being a friend. I care about you,” she said and thought, far too much at times. “I know how the bad memories can haunt you.”

  One dark eyebrow lifted over a discerning blue eye. “Do you?”

  His doubt was understandable. And really, why had she even brought her own problems into this mix?

  “I don’t know what it’s like to experience what you and your brother did, but my life hasn’t been devoid of heartache.”

  He clasped her hand and pulled her close, his other hand lifting to cup the back of her head, his long fingers gently massaging at the tension that gripped. “We have both had our trials and tribulations since birth. Wealth or lack of it made no difference. Agree?”

  She filled her lungs and heaved out a breath, nodding. “Agree.”

  “Would you like a drink? Wine? Scotch?”

  Liquor was the last thing she needed, as she wanted her wits sharp as tacks, yet as wound up as she was she doubted she would find any peace this night. “Scotch but light,” she said at last.