by Annie West
‘At least not enough to want to go to bed with one of them,’ she added, as if reading his thoughts.
‘Why not?’ He had to know.
‘I’ve yet to have a close relationship with one who doesn’t want to control my life.’ Her eyes flashed. ‘Can we cut the chat while you organise my money?’ Her words might have been chipped from glacial ice. Just like her profile of regal disdain.
Deliberately Dario stretched and linked his hands beneath his head. He’d promised so he’d deliver on the money. But it went against the grain to jump to her tune.
‘Congratulations,’ he murmured. ‘You have to be the most blatantly greedy woman I’ve met.’
‘You expect me to apologise?’ She leaned forward as if spurred by feelings so strong she couldn’t sit still. ‘You think I should be ashamed, when you know why I need it?’ To his astonishment tears glittered on her lashes before she blinked them away.
They were back to that. Suddenly he’d had enough of this conversation, sickened by the way, even now, she tried to play on his sympathy. He flung back the sheet and stalked to the dressing room to tug on some jeans.
‘Don’t think you can walk out on our deal.’ She’d followed him. He swung round to find her, swathed in a trailing sheet, hair in disarray and a mutinous expression on her face. The hunger for her grew in him anew.
What did that say for his judgement? He turned his back so she wouldn’t see how she affected him.
A small, firm hand arrested his movements, dragging at his arm, trying to tug him around.
‘You owe me, Dario!’
He swung back, face taut as he battled the urge to silence her with his mouth. Disgust filled him at the predictability of his need for this woman.
‘Enough! Get me your bank details. By lunchtime you’ll have enough cash to keep a dozen farms afloat.’ Or, more likely, spend it on herself.
‘Farms? What farms?’ She frowned as if he spoke a foreign language.
Had she forgotten the excuse she’d used last night? The need to save her sister’s cattle station? He shook off her hand, zipping his jeans and reaching for a T-shirt. ‘You said you want cash for your sister.’
‘That’s right.’ She stood behind him. He felt her warmth, smelled her skin. ‘But she’s not buying a farm.’
‘Saving a farm, then.’ He flung out one hand in a dismissive gesture. ‘Wasn’t that your excuse for wanting to cut a new deal? To save her from foreclosure?’
Silence. Except for a hissed intake of breath.
‘You thought that’s why I wanted the money?’ Something about the quality of her voice made him still. He turned to find her white-faced. ‘You said you’d had us investigated, that you knew all about us.’
He nodded. ‘I paid an Australian detective agency. They were thorough,’ he said, thinking of the dirt they’d dug up on her past.
‘Not thorough enough,’ she murmured. ‘They didn’t check medical records, did they?’ He watched her press one clenched hand to her breast.
‘Not that I know of.’ There hadn’t seemed a need. ‘Why?’
Alissa lifted her chin to meet him stare for stare. ‘Because my sister is ill. Her only hope is a radical new treatment in the US. Without it she’ll die.’ She breathed deep. ‘It costs a fortune. Money Donna and her husband don’t have. Money I could only get by marrying you.’
The world tilted and spun crazily off its axis as he met her unwavering gaze.
It couldn’t be. And yet…it would be easy enough to check. She must know that.
Dario’s lungs laboured. His chest constricted under the impact of an invisible blow that shoved him back against one mirrored wall, leaving him stunned.
Could the investigators have missed something so crucial? He’d employed the best. But perhaps the best hadn’t been enough. He should have used his personal staff.
He met her unflinching gaze, read the shock in her face, the horror in her eyes. His certainty cracked.
It was possible.
A yawning chasm ripped open inside him as the implications struck home.
Che diavolo ha fatto? What the devil had he done?
‘Tell me.’ His voice was strained and his features set in a mask that hid his emotions. Only his searing eyes hinted he felt anything at her news.
Alissa told herself she didn’t care what he thought. All she cared about was saving Donna. If she concentrated on that she could ignore the crazy yearning for the comfort of his strong arms about her. Tremors of fatigue and reaction ran through her and she slumped into a chair.
‘Tell me.’ The words were stronger now. He planted his feet wide. He’d dropped the T-shirt and stood bare-chested, his hair all dark, tousled locks, his arms at his sides.
She couldn’t stop a thrill of appreciation at his male perfection. She hated herself for it.
‘There’s nothing to tell.’ She lowered her gaze. Even his feet, strong and sinewy, reminded her of how she’d abandoned care and duty and given herself to pleasure in his embrace. Self-disgust was bitter as aloes in her mouth. ‘The specialists in Australia can’t help and our health system won’t fund her treatment overseas.’ She fisted her hands in the cotton at her breast.
‘When did this happen?’
‘We got the news a couple of months ago.’
Alissa saw emotion flicker in his eyes. Did he believe now that she’d only gone through with a marriage for Donna’s sake? That, after refusing to marry him when her grandfather was alive and then again immediately after the old man’s death, this was why she’d agreed? She bit her lip. She shouldn’t care what he believed.
‘You didn’t ask me for money then.’
‘Ask you?’ Fury surged. ‘Why would you help? From the first you made it clear you hated me because of my grandfather’s plans for us to marry.’ She sucked in oxygen, trying to calm her racing pulse as she remembered the contempt in Dario’s eyes, the mocking chill in his tone. ‘I had everything planned with Jason until you stormed in breathing fire and brimstone and wrecked everything.’
‘You could have told me.’ His voice was low.
‘As if that was likely!’ She fixed him with a glare. ‘You gave the impression you’d revel in our misfortunes.’
‘You believed I’d ignore the fact that your sister was dying?’ His jaw hardened. ‘That I’d stoop so low?’
‘What? Lower than forcing me into bed when we hate each other?’ Her voice broke and she looked away, wrapping her arms tight round her torso. She lashed out at Dario but it was she who felt guilty. She who’d let herself wallow in pleasure when she should have withstood his seduction. She who’d forgotten her responsibility to her sister.
‘You thought I’d let her die. That I would negotiate such a bargain knowing all the circumstances.’ His voice held a strangely distant note that made her turn.
What she saw made her suck in a stunned breath. A stranger looked back, eyes devoid of life, lines etched deep around his mouth. An unnatural pallor greyed his skin.
‘Dario?’ Shock held her rigid. He looked as if he’d been dealt a fatal blow, sheer willpower keeping him on his feet. She’d been so ready to believe the absolute worst of him last night. It seemed now she’d been wrong.
Regret streaked through her. Could she have convinced him of the truth last night? He’d been implacable. But then she’d been so ready to judge him badly. She’d let her prejudices blind her. She’d judged him her grandfather’s equal, reviving old fears and mistrust.
She opened her mouth to speak when he forestalled her.
‘What’s wrong with your sister? Was it an accident?’
‘No, nothing like that. Donna has liver damage and other complications. It’s a result of…problems. She went off the rails for a while.’
‘Define “off the rails”.’ His gaze narrowed.
Alissa stared at one mirrored wall, seeing Dario, tall and imposing, and herself, huddled in a swathe of white.
‘Drink. Guys. Drugs.’ After a lifet
ime of obedience to their grandfather, Donna, the quiet one, had finally rebelled in spectacular fashion. Alissa hadn’t been able to stop her. Familiar guilt scorched her conscience. It was as if Donna had sought the quickest way to destroy herself: sex and drugs at seventeen, rehab at eighteen. Married and dying at barely twenty.
A deathly chill ran up Alissa’s spine.
‘She was under age at the time. Yes?’
Alissa turned to find Dario watching her, something like understanding in his eyes. ‘How did you know?’
‘The investigator got some of it right.’
‘I worked two jobs, making ends meet after we left home. Donna was old enough to live with me, but not old enough for clubbing.’ But that hadn’t stopped her. ‘I didn’t realise she’d used my ID to get into nightclubs and bars until it was too late.’
‘That explains it. She was mistaken for you. Her behaviour, the drugs, the men…it was her, using your ID, pretending to be you.’ His expression was grim as he held her gaze till she assented.
‘And the night of the drug bust?’
Alissa couldn’t look away. That invisible connection she’d imagined last night was back, drawing her into his power. ‘I went looking for her.’
‘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.
