by Annie West
Lily hesitated. Her business plan had been based on doing more of the same. General expansion rather than targeted. Her focus had been on building income to make the enterprise as secure as possible.
‘I see.’ He sat back.
So did she. ‘There’s a gap in my planning, isn’t there?’
She didn’t feel defensive. This shadowy version of Raffaele Petri, sitting easily with her in the garden, wasn’t nearly as daunting as the one she worked with daily. She could almost pretend to forget her attraction to him. Despite her quickened pulse and the tingle of awareness, she felt easier with him than ever before. As if he were no longer a threat.
Amazing what a little moonlight could do. Or was it because his interest was in her work, not her?
‘It sounds like you need to revisit your strategy. Unless you want to be stuck in a rut, tendering for every job, whether it interests you or not.’
Lily dragged her fingers through her hair, letting it slide away over her shoulder. ‘I’ve had enough of that, working at things that don’t interest me.’
Even in the moonlight she saw his eyebrows rise. ‘Does that apply to what you’re doing for me?’
Quickly Lily shook her head. ‘No, I love that.’ She paused, wondering if she sounded too eager. But he’d acknowledged she never ran to him seeking kudos. ‘The projects are complex enough to be fascinating. I—’ She paused. ‘Signor P—’
‘Raffaele. Or Raffa. Surely we’ve gone past formality.’
Lily wished his face wasn’t half-shadowed. There was a note in his voice she couldn’t recognise. It kicked her pulse into high gear.
Reluctantly she nodded. ‘Raffaele.’ She stumbled over his name. Not because she couldn’t say it, but because it felt like an illicit pleasure on her tongue. As if she’d crossed some boundary. Heat spiked in her chest. ‘Is there a chance you could...?’
‘A chance I could...?’ He leaned forward and she felt the waft of warm air as he exhaled. Lily blinked, overwhelmed by his sheer physical presence. The stark male beauty that even pale moonlight couldn’t diminish. The challenging mind. The fizz of attraction.
Yet most appealing of all was the way he talked to her. He made her feel...important. As if she genuinely interested him.
Lily’s gaze fell to those powerful hands at his knees. Her blood tingled as for one decadent moment she wondered how it would feel if he lifted a palm and put it on her bare flesh. A quiver of exultation coursed through her. Till sanity returned.
The very fact he was so close, discussing corporate planning of all things, proved he had no interest in her physically. It was her mind, her plans he was curious about.
She was glad. It was what she wanted, to be taken seriously as a businesswoman.
Yet Lily couldn’t help wondering what it would be like, just once, to be desired by a man.
She gulped down a sudden restriction in her throat. She didn’t do self-pity. Far better to focus on what she could get out of life.
‘I wondered if you had any advice. About how or when to make that switch from taking every job to something more targeted.’
Her nerves stretched with the growing silence. But just when she’d decided she’d gone too far, he spoke.
* * *
Raffa watched Lily expound a point, gesturing, the light catching the small scar on the back of her hand. It caught the larger scar on her cheek too. But not even that detracted from her lit-from-within animation.
When she talked about her business it was with an enthusiasm most women reserved for a lover. An enthusiasm he found hard to resist.
True passion was rare.
How many would-be entrepreneurs had approached him to give them a start up? How many established businessmen had tried to entice him into a shared deal? He was adept at resisting, going his own way.
Yet here he was, caught up in Lily Nolan’s enthusiasm for a solid, but nevertheless tiny enterprise.
Or, more accurately, caught up in watching her, enjoying the change from buttoned-up, defensive worker bee to a woman who even in this gloom shone with an inner glow. A woman who made him wonder what she’d do if he stretched his arm out and hauled her onto his lap.
Her effervescence was a turn-on. It was no hardship to discuss business plans with her. He’d been genuinely interested, but beyond that was an edge that had nothing to do with commerce and everything to do with the fact that for the first time in recent memory he found himself contemplating taking a lover.
Lily Nolan?
It was a crazy idea.
‘When will that report on Bradshaw’s Caribbean property be complete?’
She looked surprised at his question. Understandable given it had nothing to do with their discussion. ‘Tomorrow. I’ve got one more thing to check in the morning.’
‘Excellent. You can have ten days off when it’s done. That will give you time to work through your other responsibilities.’ He gestured to her now dormant laptop. The sooner she got on top of those, the sooner he could have her to himself. He needed her. For her expertise, he assured himself.
‘Ten days? But I’ve only worked for you a short time.’
Raffa’s mouth kicked up. Who complained about time off? ‘Don’t worry. I’m getting my money’s worth from you and I intend to keep doing so. When you start back we’ll be in a crucial stage of the project and I’ll want you available twenty-four-seven.’
Slowly she nodded. ‘Well, I am on the premises, so I’ll be available.’
Raffa shook his head. ‘We won’t be in New York. We’ll be in the Caribbean, on Bradshaw’s home turf.’
She stilled, her eyes widening. ‘We?’
‘That’s right. We. I want you where you can be most useful.’
This was a sensible business decision. It had nothing to do with the tug of attraction he felt towards Lily Nolan. Almost nothing.
She opened her mouth, the same tight expression settling on her face that he’d become used to before tonight. It didn’t bother him. Now he knew something of the vital, intriguing, oddly innocent woman behind the facade.
He looked forward to seeing more of that woman. To learning her secrets.
‘And, before you object, this is a requirement, not a request. Finish what you have to. I don’t want you bringing other work. I want you completely at my disposal.’
CHAPTER SIX
‘THAT’S IT FOR NOW. Thanks, everyone.’ Raffaele ended the video conference with a final word to Consuela in New York about a contract.
Lily eased back in her seat, stretching. She was tired, but good tired. Working with Raffaele was intense—satisfying, but a challenge to keep up. Just as well she’d been well prepared for the meeting.
He was a dynamic entrepreneur but his restless energy since they’d arrived on Bradshaw’s island was electric. There must be a personal element to this. She sensed it in the grim twist of Raffaele’s mouth when the other man was mentioned, and his insistence on breakneck speed, as if completion couldn’t come fast enough. Yet even now he was cagey about the details of his plan, as if it were too important to share in full.
‘Right. Time for a break.’
She looked up to find he’d shut the screen and was watching her. His stare made her feel abruptly unprofessional.
Lily worked hard not to think of him as a desirable man. But it was like trying to pretend the sun didn’t shine out there on the white sand of this island paradise. The mere sight of his sinewy, powerful forearms, dark gold beneath rolled-up sleeves, made her stupid heart thud.
They were alone in his spacious bungalow, set a little apart from the other accommodation spread through the leafy resort gardens. The rest of the team were thousands of miles away in New York and Lily felt a flicker of guilt that she alone had travelled here with him. Even her smaller bungalow was gorgeous, with its plantation-style furnishings, four-poster bed and ocean views.
‘Dinner at the poolside café, I think.’
Lily could imagine him there. With hi
s burnished good looks and casual white cotton shirt and trousers, he’d be right at home amongst the bikini-clad beauties.
She averted her gaze, gathering her gear. ‘Enjoy yourself. I’ll start following up—’
‘Later, Lily. It’s time to eat.’ That mellow voice trailed through her veins.
She fixed on a smile. ‘I’ll grab something in my room. I want to get this down while it’s fresh.’
To her surprise he came to stand before her, crossing his arms and planting his feet wide, owning the space.
Her pulse danced that silly little jig. No matter how often she saw him, he still had the power to enthral her. She should be immune to Raffaele Petri. But since that night on his rooftop her defences were in tatters.
He’d taken time to advise her on her fledgling enterprise. She’d never had a mentor and eagerly soaked up his suggestions. He’d been kind, discussing her insignificant start-up company.
Who’d have thought Raffaele Petri could be kind?
There’d been more too. He’d told her about his own business. For the first time she saw her research in a wider context. It was exciting to feel part of something bigger than her own narrow goals. He’d made her feel valued, as if she belonged. It was rare and satisfying.
Above all was the heady sense he saw her not just as an employee but as a woman interesting in her own right. He made her feel he saw her as no one else did. She was human enough to want him to admire what he saw.
‘That can wait. Food first. Leave your stuff here and collect it later.’
He was inviting her to eat with him? Excitement buzzed.
Or was that horror at the thought of sitting at the resort’s most public venue beside the most gorgeous man on the planet? With all those beautiful people looking on?
Her shrinking stomach warned it was both.
‘Thanks, Raffaele.’ She paused, savouring his name. ‘But I’d prefer to eat alone and get my thoughts together.’
‘In your room?’
She nodded, scrambling up from the low seat.
To her consternation he didn’t step away and she found herself toe to toe with him, close enough for the heat of his body to brand her. For that evocative scent of his to inveigle its way into her nostrils.
Awareness shuddered through her—real, alive, all-consuming.
The daunting truth was that she wanted him as a woman wanted a man. It was laughable. He’d been supportive and, yes, kind, but there was no way he’d ever—
‘Hiding again, Lily?’
Her chin tipped up as if yanked on a string. She met gleaming eyes and read knowledge in them. Her breath froze and splintered in her lungs.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ He couldn’t know how she felt about him. Could he?
* * *
Raffa scented her fear. He’d learned to recognise it early, a legacy of growing up in the rough end of a derelict neighbourhood. He wanted to tell her it was okay.
But it wasn’t okay, not if what he suspected was right. His hands clenched as he strove not to reach for her. The impulse to reassure, to comfort was so unexpected and strong, it shocked him.
He’d been many things to many women.
But a comfort? Never.
Yet he persisted. His suspicion had grown so strong he’d found himself pondering it rather than his plans for Bradshaw. Nothing, he vowed, would deter him from justice for Gabriella. For her sake, and for Lily’s, he needed to sort this so he could focus again.
‘We’ve worked together long enough for me to be able to read you, at least a little.’ He’d never met anyone so self-contained. It made him itch to discover her secrets. ‘I know you’re scared.’
She froze. He sensed the tightening of her slim frame as her eyebrows rose. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
He gave her full marks for bravado.
‘You think I haven’t noticed that you hide away?’ He shook his head. ‘You never go out. Ever. In New York you stayed in the office or in the guest suite. When other staff talk about what they did on the weekend or meet for a drink after work, you don’t join in.’ He’d been too absorbed in his plan for justice to realise at first how insular she was. But, once he did, it was glaringly obvious. Like the way she concealed herself behind that long hair.
‘You know I don’t have time for that.’ She waved a hand dismissively. ‘I’m working full-time for you and trying to keep my business afloat back home.’
True, but that wasn’t the whole story.
‘You’ve got time to eat with me. Here. Now.’ He paused. ‘Unless you’re afraid of that too?’
‘Too?’ Lily shifted as if to step away but he blocked her exit.
‘I saw you on the beach at dawn.’ At her surprised look he shrugged. ‘You’re not the only early riser.’
Instantly suspicion, or was it fear, clouded those amber-brown eyes.
‘You were staring out to sea, even waded knee-deep in the water a couple of times. But you didn’t go in. Why was that? I could tell you were yearning to.’
She’d stood there in another long-sleeved shirt with cargo pants rolled up around her knees and it had struck him how she deliberately camouflaged that lithe, luscious body he’d seen in his garden.
He’d been about to approach her when he’d noticed her expression, illuminated in the peachy morning light. It was a look of such longing, such regret, it stirred discomfort. As if he’d intruded on something utterly personal.
The melancholy of that lone figure, arms crossed over her chest, just as now, had stayed with him all morning.
‘I wasn’t yearning. I was admiring. The view was spectacular.’ She hitched a quick breath that betrayed discomfort, her gaze skittering away. ‘Besides, I didn’t bring a swimsuit.’
‘You came to a Caribbean resort and didn’t bring a swimsuit?’ Disbelief dripped from each syllable.
Her chin jerked even higher. ‘I don’t own one.’ She hurried on before he could interrupt. ‘I’m here to work, not swim, remember?’
‘I see.’ She was finding excuses again. More than ever, he wanted to lay them bare.
‘What do you see?’ Anger vibrated in her voice and Raffa felt a little of his edginess ease. He preferred her angry to fearful or dejected. Watching her this morning, reading infinite sadness in that longing gaze, had felt like a sucker punch to the gut. He’d felt...lost, something he hadn’t experienced since he was twelve and Gabriella had left him.
‘That you’re afraid of the water. Can’t you swim?’
‘Of course I can swim. I grew up on the coast. Learning to swim was compulsory.’
Raffa stared at her set features, reading the truth in her expression. Now they were getting somewhere.
He lifted his hand, gesturing to her scarred cheek. ‘What happened? Was that from an accident in the water? Is that why you don’t swim?’
Lily gasped and shifted back but she couldn’t escape because of the couch behind her.
‘Lily?’
‘That’s none of your business.’ Her voice rose half an octave.
‘Perhaps not. But it’s time someone asked.’ Clearly her injury had affected more than her face. It was a crying shame that a woman so full of spark and energy should conceal herself.
Why was he making it his mission to interfere?
He was selfish to the core. Since when had he taken an altruistic interest in anyone?
‘Just because you employ me doesn’t give you a right to pry.’
Raffa said nothing, merely stood and waited.
He’d almost given up on an answer when the words burst from her. ‘It wasn’t a swimming accident. A jealous thug decided to make a point with a flask of acid.’
Raffa recoiled at the brutal words. He couldn’t help but imagine the fiery burn on tender flesh, the howling pain. The shock and suffering. Nausea swirled in his belly and rose as bile in his throat. His heart pounded his ribs.
What sort of man attacked a defenceless woman?
&
nbsp; Another like Robert Bradshaw.
Raffa’s hands curled into fists, tension radiating up his arms to his shoulders and neck.
‘Your boyfriend?’ His words slid from between gritted teeth.
She shook her head, her long hair slipping around her cheeks. ‘My best friend’s. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, sitting beside her at the cinema. Rachel bore the brunt of it but my injuries kept me in and out of hospital for a long time while they tried to repair the damage.’ Her voice was brittle.
It struck him how tough it must have been, not only badly injured, but in such a random way. How had she ever felt safe again?
He wanted to soothe her, haul her close and reassure her.
As if he had any experience of comforting a woman.
As if she’d accept his touch! She glared at him with the same distrust he’d once seen on a half-wild dog. As if she’d bite his hand if he came close.
‘So why don’t you swim?’ There was something there, some reason she wouldn’t go in the water. He’d seen it on her face in the dawn light. ‘Is it the same reason you try to disappear?’
‘Disappear? I’m here, aren’t I?’ Her voice told him he was on the right track. Defiance tinged with fear.
‘Not all the time.’ Did she even realise how often she tried to blend into the background? ‘Sometimes, when you’re passionate about a discussion or a new work direction, you forget to take a back seat. Then you’re vibrant and persuasive and...present.’ He always noticed her, but he also saw the way she tried not to attract attention. ‘But it seems to me you’re worried about being seen.’
She said nothing, yet he heard the snatch of indrawn air, saw the sudden lift of her breasts as her breathing turned shallow.
Her vulnerability made his chest clench.
‘That’s it, isn’t it? The reason you wear those cover-up clothes.’
Her eyes narrowed to a gleam of amber fire. ‘We can’t all afford designer gear.’
‘It’s not about designer labels, Lily. You’ve got an attractive body yet you hide it as if you’re ashamed. Did you even bring shorts or a sleeveless top here?’
Her silence said she hadn’t. His suspicion grew to a certainty as so much became clear. Horror furrowed his gut at the implications.
