by Lynne Graham
Her fingers spread over the swell of his male arousal, outrageously obvious even through the fabric of his trousers. Wanton damp heat flowered at the tender heart of her body and she quivered, shot through and weak with sheer longing and excitement. She knew what he wanted and she knew what she wanted to do, though it was something that had never before had the slightest appeal to her. The shock of that sexual intensity made her eyes fly open.
It was disconcerting to recognise that it was still broad daylight and that they were in a moving car in traffic. She had forgotten everything, where she was, who she was. She felt out of control and it scared her. Tearing her reddened mouth from his, she sucked in a steadying breath and shifted her hand onto his long powerful thigh.
A lean brown hand closed into her copper hair to stop her moving back out of reach. Scorching golden eyes held her fast. ‘You shouldn’t start anything you’re not prepared to finish.’
‘I’ve got work to do.’ Kathy lifted her chin, her cheeks burning.
Accustomed to instant compliance with his wishes, Sergio studied her with shimmering dark eyes of hauteur. Then he flung his arrogant head back and vented an appreciative laugh. He liked her nerve. ‘What work?’
‘I have another part-time job. I’m also studying.’
‘And I have a flight to catch.’
Her heart thudded heavily inside her ribcage. He ran a slow caressing forefinger across the swollen curve of her lower lip. Her nerve-endings prickled with awareness. It took all her self-discipline not to lean forward and invite a greater intimacy.
‘I’ll see you when I get back to London—in a couple of weeks, delizia mia,’ Sergio murmured softly.
‘A couple of weeks?’ Kathy queried in bemusement.
He explained his schedule. Intense disappointment filled her that he would be abroad for so long. She veiled her eyes, irritated by her juvenile response, her previous doubts setting in again. What was the point of seeing him again? Did she have novelty value? Even if he was interested in her, it would only be for all of five minutes. She needed no great experience of men to know that all she had to offer on his terms was her face and body. Was that enough for her?
Sergio checked his watch, only to rediscover for the tenth time that morning that it wasn’t on his wrist. Fortunately a replacement awaited him at the airport. ‘I took off my watch last night. Did you notice where I put it?’
Her smooth brow furrowed. ‘It was lying on the carpet. I stepped over it. Look, us seeing each other again isn’t a good idea—’
His dark stare was unnervingly direct. ‘Try keeping me away.’
‘I’m serious—’
Sergio lifted the phone and punched in a number. A moment later he was talking in rapid Italian.
‘Would you be interested in becoming a receptionist?’ he enquired in casual aside.
Kathy nodded in immediate eager acknowledgement. After a brief further dialogue he replaced the phone and gave her an address to go to the following morning. ‘For an interview?’ she asked.
‘No, the job’s yours for three months. Longer, if you make a good impression.’
‘Thanks,’ she muttered awkwardly as the limo came to a halt.
‘I owed you.’ Sergio stepped out.
Uncertainly Kathy climbed out, as well, but he didn’t notice; he was already walking away with two of his bodyguards following close behind him. His departure was the epitome of casualness. Before she sank back into the limo, she noticed a stocky older man on the pavement treating her to a flinty appraisal. His gloomy face was vaguely familiar and she knew she had seen him before, even if she could not recall where. When he got into the car behind, which previously had disgorged the bodyguards, she realised that he must work for Sergio.
The chauffeur captured her attention by asking her where she wanted to go. As the luxury vehicle moved off again to drop her at the library, she was in a happy daze at the prospect of starting a new job.
Almost two weeks later, Sergio arrived back in London. He was in an excellent mood.
Grave-faced, Renzo Catallone met his employer off his private jet and passed him a slim file.
‘I realise I’m putting my job on the line here. But I can’t be in charge of your personal security and keep quiet,’ the security chief declared tautly. ‘It’s vital that you take a look at this dossier. I’m convinced that your watch has been stolen.’
CHAPTER FOUR
EYES AS BRIGHT AS STARS, Kathy studied her reflection in the mirror.
‘Put on a pair of sunglasses and a bored expression and you’ll be taken for a celebrity!’ Bridget Kirk teased, her cheerful face wreathed in smiles.
Kathy was dressed in a vintage sixties dress the zingy yellow of a citrus fruit. It was a sleeveless sheath that hugged her slight curves as though it had been custom-made, and Kathy thought it gave her an amazingly classy look. She felt that that was an important consideration for a date with a guy who had been born into a family with a history that stretched back several centuries. While she was by no means intimidated by Sergio Torrente’s background, which she had checked out on the internet, she had cringed at the reality that he might well wince if she turned out to see him in another pair of jeans. In actuality her wardrobe contained nothing fancier than black trousers.
And trying to remedy that problem on her income in the first weeks of a new job was out of the question. The struggle to survive until she received her first pay as a receptionist was proving a major challenge, even though she had worked almost every night at the café. She was very lucky that Bridget had come to her rescue with the suggestion that she might borrow an outfit from the café manager’s vintage fashion collection accumulated from various charity shops.
‘I don’t know how to thank you.’ Kathy enveloped the older woman in an impulsive hug. ‘I know how proud you are of your clothes and I promise I’ll look after the dress.’
Delighted to see Kathy so animated and talkative, Bridget returned the hug with enthusiasm. ‘I’m pleased that you’re finally going out on a date!’
‘But it won’t last five minutes with Sergio.’ Kathy delivered that forecast with a shrug of a narrow shoulder to show how low her expectations were and reached for her jeans, intending to get changed. ‘I think he’s just curious about how the other half lives.’
‘Will you tell him?’
Kathy paled and tensed. She knew immediately that Bridget was referring to the prison sentence that the younger woman had served. ‘I don’t think Sergio will be around long enough for a heartfelt confession to become necessary. But if he asks too many awkward questions, I won’t lie—’
‘Give things a chance to develop first,’ Bridget advised hurriedly.
‘He’s too sophisticated and well travelled to fool. If I tried to pretend I spent all that time abroad I’d soon trip myself up,’ Kathy countered gently.
‘He’s not going to ask for map references, Kathy,’ the little brunette scolded. ‘Don’t go spilling it all out when there’s no need. You’re entitled to a few secrets until you know him better.’
Bridget was very much a romantic and Kathy wouldn’t have had her any other way, but Kathy had not been able to bring herself to the point of confessing to her friend that she had already been intimate with Sergio. In fact, the more Kathy thought about that, the more disturbed and ashamed she became over her behaviour. She was annoyed that she had not had more sense. The fear that there might be consequences from their contraceptive accident was one she kept pushed to the back of her mind; she was planning to do a pregnancy test in a couple of days.
Surprisingly, Sergio had actually phoned her four times since he had left London. He had called her from Norway and talked with astonishing enthusiasm about white-outs and skiable peaks. Whether he was telling her about living rough in a wilderness of snow fields, frozen lakes and forest or revealing an abiding passion for what she had discovered was the world’s most expensive coffee, Sergio could be very entertaining.
Ka
thy had, however, satisfied her curiosity about him on the internet and had been both intrigued and troubled by what she learned. Born to an almost royal existence of extreme privilege in a vast Italian palazzo, Sergio had evidently led a charmed life until he became mysteriously estranged from his father while he was still at university. Although virtually disinherited in favour of his younger half-brother, Sergio had still contrived to make his first million by the age of twenty-two and he had hogged the fast lane of energetic high-powered achievement ever since. Super-rich and super-successful, he maintained the same hectic pace in his private life. He had a rather chilling reputation with women. When he wasn’t doing his utmost to kill himself in dangerous sporting activities, he was staving off boredom with a relentless parade of beautiful women, all of whom belonged to the celebrity and socialite sets.
As Kathy caught the bus home from work the following evening, she was striving not to dwell too much on those unpalatable truths because, by finding her employment, Sergio had single-handedly contrived to transform her life. Her new job was in a busy advertising agency, which buzzed with activity at all hours of the day and she absolutely loved it. A quick learner, she had already been complimented on her work. It was the opportunity she had so badly needed to prove her ability and gain experience. But without Sergio’s intervention she knew that she would not have been given that chance. That did not mean she planned to sleep with him when she saw him that night, but it did mean that she would probably continue to hold back and not beat him if they ever played chess again.
Amused by that idea, Kathy donned the citrus-yellow dress. A car collected her on the dot of eight and took her across the city to a very exclusive residential block. Shown into the lift by the driver, she was tense and uncomfortable. Where was she being taken? Not unnaturally she had assumed they were going out. Maybe he didn’t want to take her anywhere. Maybe he was afraid that her table manners or appearance would let him down.
Bright coppery head held high, Kathy walked across the marble hall and through the open door facing her into a stunning reception room so large that it seemed to stretch into infinity. Her heartbeat was moving up tempo, colour warming her cheeks.
‘Kathy…’ Sergio strolled forward to greet her.
And the definitive word to describe him, she thought dizzily, was gorgeous. His fashionable suit was the colour of dark chocolate and, worn with a fawn T-shirt, it struck a wonderfully classic and casual note. Just one glimpse of the hard, masculine planes of his lean bronzed face unleashed the butterflies in her stomach. It took tremendous self-control for her to rise above those promptings and say out loud what was on her mind.
‘Is this your apartment?’ Kathy asked stiffly.
Sergio ran veiled dark eyes as cold as ice over her and, even though he was disgusted by what he now knew about her character, he still could not deny her stunning physical appeal. The bright yellow dress set off her glorious hair and her green eyes shone like polished jade against her pale porcelain complexion. He knew at a glance that the outfit was designer faux-vintage and had no doubt at all in deciding where she had got the money to buy it: from the sale of his watch.
‘Yes. Why?’ he tossed back smooth as glass.
‘Are we going out?’ Kathy asked tautly.
Sergio gazed steadily back at her. ‘I thought we’d be more comfortable staying here.’
‘Either we go out somewhere, or I go home.’ Kathy tilted her chin and sent him a look of disdain, angry hurt and strong pride powering her. ‘I’m not an easy option you call up when you feel like sex. If that’s all you’re interested in, I’m leaving. No offence intended.’
His dark scrutiny kindled to gold as though she had tossed a burning torch on a bale of hay and provoked a blaze. ‘You can’t leave until you’ve answered certain questions to my satisfaction.’
Kathy froze. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Let’s keep it simple. You stole my watch. I want to know what you did with it.’
‘I…stole your watch? Are you crazy?’ Kathy exclaimed, barely able to credit that accusation coming at her out of the blue. ‘I remember you asking about it before you left London but—’
‘You were the last person to see it in my office. It can scarcely be a coincidence that you should also have a criminal record for theft.’
Her delicate natural colour ebbed to leave her an ashen shade. Without warning he was plunging her back into the nightmare that she had believed she had left behind. He knew about her past. She felt sick and cornered, and under attack. He believed she was a thief and that only she could be responsible for the disappearance of his watch. For a few taut seconds her mind was in turmoil and her throat was so tight she could barely get oxygen into her lungs.
For an instant Sergio wondered if she might faint. She’d turned as white as snow, her pallor in stark contrast to her vivid hair and dress. She was terrified, of course she was. He did not regret choosing the short, sharp shock approach. He liked results and he liked them fast.
‘I didn’t steal your watch,’ Kathy framed shakily.
‘Are lies a wise move at this point?’ Sergio traded, unimpressed. ‘I could call the police right now and let them handle it. But I would prefer to deal with this in a private capacity. Keep two facts in mind: I have no pity for those who try to take advantage of me and I have never regarded women as the weaker sex.’
‘I didn’t touch your watch!’ Her protest was vehement. A pulse was beating so fast at the base of her throat that still she found it difficult to catch her breath. That reference to the police terrified her, bringing back memories she would have done anything to forget and which she had no wish to relive. With her history as a former offender, how could she possibly hope to combat an accusation from a very rich and powerful man?
Sergio regarded her with cold, steady determination. ‘I won’t let you leave this apartment until you have told me the truth.’
‘You can’t do that!’ Kathy told him in disbelief. ‘You don’t have the right.’
‘Oh, I think you’ll give me the right to do whatever I like, cara mia,’ Sergio countered silkily. ‘I believe that you will do virtually anything to keep the police out of this. Am I correct?’
As she received that very shrewd assumption Kathy’s teeth almost chattered together. Yet, while fear was making her skin clammy, rage was sitting like a lump of red hot coal inside her. ‘How did you find out that I had served a prison sentence?’
‘My security chief started checking you out when he saw you making chess moves on the surveillance camera. He’s very thorough.’
‘Is he?’ Kathy raised a fine brow in disagreement. ‘I would say that I make a very convenient fall guy—’
‘Renzo Catallone doesn’t operate like that,’ Sergio asserted. ‘He used to be in the police force.’
‘Even better!’ A bitter laugh was wrenched from Kathy’s dry throat before she could bite it back. ‘He saw that I had a criminal record and that was that, wasn’t it? Investigation over!’
‘Are you denying that you stole the watch?’
‘Yes, but clearly you don’t believe me and I don’t have any way of proving that I didn’t take it. Obviously, you have a thief in your office. It might just be someone in a smart business suit, someone who was tempted, even someone who wanted a thrill. Thieves come in all shapes and sizes and in all walks of life.’
Sergio rested brooding dark eyes of derision on her. The crime for which she had once been convicted filled him with distaste. Far from being the refreshingly natural and unspoilt girl he had come to believe her to be, her beauty hid a rotten core of serious greed. In the position of carer and companion, she had abused the trust of an elderly invalid and had systematically robbed her charge over a period of many months. She had been prosecuted for the theft of the single item found in her possession, but she had almost certainly been responsible for stealing and disposing of other valuable antiques that had disappeared without trace during her employment.
‘But then you’re confident in every sphere.’ Kathy slowly shook her head. Her copper and amber hair glittered with bright streaks, forming a metallic halo that accentuated the pallor of her ivory complexion.
Dully she recognised that she was in shock. In the space of minutes he had torn her newly learnt self-belief to shreds. He had tempted her out of the safety of her quiet life only to threaten to destroy her. She hated him for it. She hated him for the arrogant assurance that convinced him that he was right and she was in the wrong. She hated herself for believing, however briefly, that she could aspire to dating a guy like him. What sort of an idiot had she become? Did she believe in fairy stories, as well? She had surrendered her defence mechanisms when she’d put on the pretty yellow dress. Within the anger and the fear lurked a very strong sense of humiliation.
‘Let’s keep this clean and straightforward. I want to know what you did with the watch,’ Sergio repeated grimly. ‘And don’t waste my time with tears or tantrums. They don’t work with me.’
An insidious chill ran down her taut spinal cord as she recorded the cruel lack of emotion stamped on his lean, dark, handsome features. He would never listen to her story of the injustice she had suffered—he would have neither the faith nor the patience. He had no time for her or her explanations, since he dealt in black and white facts. As far as he was concerned, she was a convicted thief and she might have served her sentence, but he was not prepared to give her the benefit of the doubt.
