Carlos inclined his head. ‘I will, my dear.’ To Leo, he said, ‘I owe you an apology, my friend. When you told my daughter you had someone special in your life I assumed you were letting her down gently with a lie. I see now I was mistaken. You do have a special lady, indeed. And I am pleased to make her acquaintance at last.’
Leo felt the flesh at his nape tighten. He’d known that small white lie would come back one day and bite him. But flat-out rejecting the daughter of a client as powerful as Santino had seemed as sensible as cementing his feet and jumping into the Tiber. Claiming he was committed to another woman had seemed a kinder, more effective solution.
Carlos’s focus returned to Helena. ‘How often are you in Rome, Helena?’
Her lips parted and Leo shot her a hard, silencing look. She closed her mouth and frowned at him.
‘Not often,’ he interceded. ‘Business brings me to London on a regular basis.’
‘Ah, shame. In that case you need a reason to bring her to our great city.’ Carlos’s sudden smile drove a shaft of alarm straight to the centre of Leo’s gut. ‘My wife and I are celebrating our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary next weekend. Maria has organised a party—something large and extravagant, knowing my wife. Please join us. We’d be delighted to welcome you both.’
In the fleeting moment of silence that followed Leo caught a movement from the corner of his eye, but not until he felt the press of her palm on his thigh did he get his first inkling of what Helena intended.
Too late, his brain flashed a warning.
‘Thank you, Carlos,’ she said, her voice as smooth and sweet as liquid honey. ‘That’s very kind of you. We’d love to come.’ She turned her head and flashed him a dazzling smile. ‘Wouldn’t we, darling?’
She squeezed his leg and heat exploded in the muscle under her hand. He tensed, biting back an exclamation, the fire shooting straight from his thigh to his groin. Madre di Dio. If the vixen inched her fingers any higher he would not be responsible for his body’s reaction. He gritted his teeth until pain arced through his jaw—a welcome distraction from the killer sensations stirring south of his waist.
‘I will need to check my schedule.’ He forced the words past the hot, viscous anger building in his throat. What the hell was she doing? ‘I may have another commitment.’
‘Of course.’
Carlos stood and Leo rose with him, unseating the hand that was dangerously close to setting his pants alight.
‘My assistant will contact your office on Monday with the details.’ Carlos inclined his head. ‘I look forward to seeing you again, Helena. And now I must find my wife before my absence is noted. Leo—good to see you. It has been too long.’
Leo nodded and watched his client’s retreating back, the tension in his chest climbing into his throat until it threatened to choke off his air supply.
He turned, glared at her. ‘Get your bag.’
‘What?’ She stared up at him, wide-eyed. ‘Why?’
‘Just do it.’
When she hesitated, he grabbed her bag and wrapped a hand around her upper arm, hauled her to her feet.
She snatched her bag from him. ‘Where are we going?’
‘Somewhere private. To talk. Is that not what you wanted?’
She didn’t utter a single word as he marched her out of the ballroom.
* * *
The instant the elevator doors closed Helena jerked her arm out of Leo’s grasp. ‘There’s no need to manhandle me.’
He punched the button for the top floor of the hotel and threw her a look so thunderous a sliver of fear lodged in her spine. She edged away, reminded herself with a hard swallow that not all men were physically abusive. But if he was planning to shout she wished to God he’d get on with it. Anything had to be better than this...this tense, oppressive silence.
Moments later he slammed the door of his suite closed and rounded on her. ‘What the hell was that?’ His roar rose to the ceiling, echoed off the walls and reverberated through her chest like a boom of thunder.
She stood calm even as her insides quaked. ‘I don’t know why you’re so angry. I thought you’d be grateful.’
‘Grateful?’ The word barely escaped his clenched teeth.
‘Yes.’ She pulled her brows into a delicate frown. Ignored the jelly-like quiver in her knees. ‘You were in a sticky situation and I was being helpful.’ Not to mention reckless and impulsive and out of her mind crazy. Lord help her. Whatever she’d done, it was either very clever or very, very stupid. ‘Or would you have preferred I set Carlos straight about us?’
‘Dio.’ He threw his tuxedo jacket over a lounge chair, ripped his bow tie from around his neck. ‘I should have known you’d have another stunt up your sleeve.’
Oh, now, that was rich. ‘You brought me here tonight,’ she reminded him. ‘Not the other way around. I couldn’t have foreseen your client turning up.’
‘But you didn’t waste a second in twisting it to your advantage, did you?’
She let out a clipped laugh. ‘And you made no effort to correct his notion that we’re a couple. I’m not a mind-reader, Leo. How was I to know I shouldn’t play along?’
‘It was simple, Helena.’ He enunciated each syllable as if she were missing a few critical brain cells. ‘All you had to do was keep your mouth shut. Oh, but wait—’ he flung his arms wide ‘—you’re a woman. That would have been impossible!’
He tossed down the tie, tore loose the buttons at his throat, raked lean fingers through his thick black hair. Gone was the cool, suave businessman from the charity dinner. In his place stood a man who looked hard. Fierce. Dangerous.
Helena drew a calming breath. She couldn’t bottle now. Not when she could see the future looming with such frightening clarity. The takeover was only the beginning. If her mother thought things were bad now, they were only going to get worse. Leo didn’t want to own ShawCorp; he wanted to destroy it. And when he succeeded her father’s rage would need an outlet. A victim. Helena could not sit on the sidelines. She couldn’t stand idle while her mother became that victim.
‘Look, I... I’m sorry if I made things worse.’ She tried for a softer, more apologetic tone. ‘But maybe we could turn this to our advantage? Come to some...arrangement that would benefit us both?’
He stalked towards her and stopped inches short of their bodies touching—so close she could feel the heat emanating from him. In sharp contrast, his dark eyes carried a chill that needled into her flesh like icy midwinter sleet.
‘Newsflash, Helena. Mutual benefit works best when each party has something the other needs. And, like I told you last night, you don’t have anything I want—or need.’ He spun on his heel and strode to the bar, pulled a large bottle from a black lacquered cabinet.
For her own benefit, not his, she straightened her spine. ‘You need a girlfriend for your client’s party next weekend.’
‘Wrong.’ He fired the word over his shoulder as he uncapped the bottle. ‘On Monday my assistant will advise Santino’s office that I am, regrettably, unable to attend.’
‘Carlos will be disappointed.’
Amber liquid sloshed into a crystal tumbler. ‘He’ll get over it.’
‘And next time you see him? What if he asks about me? Will you pretend there’s still someone special in your life?’
‘That is not your concern.’
‘It is if you pretend that someone is me.’
He turned, the whisky untouched on the counter beside him. ‘I will tell him our relationship ended.’
She dropped her purse on the arm of a sofa and sauntered over. ‘I’m sure his daughter—Anna, was it?—will be delighted by that news.’
Was that a growl in his throat? She lifted the tumbler of whisky, inhaled the eye-watering fumes and, before she could think twice, helped herself to a generous swallow. The fiery liquid shot down her throat and extinguished the air in her lungs, but the molten heat spreading through her innards fired her courage.
Frow
ning, he snatched the glass back. ‘What exactly are you proposing?’
Hope flared. ‘That I attend the party with you in Rome—at your expense, of course—and help you prove to Carlos and his daughter that you’re a happily attached man.’
His brows sank lower. ‘And in return?’
‘In return you defer your divestment of ShawCorp’s assets and keep any announcements under wraps until my father agrees to meet you. In the meantime the company operates as normal and my father retains his position on the board.’ It would give her father a sense of security. A belief, albeit false, that he still wielded some control.
Leo fell silent for long seconds and she imagined his brain ticking through the options.
‘What makes you think your father will come around?’
She hesitated. Chances were he wouldn’t. He was too arrogant, too proud, and that was what she was counting on. Because she didn’t want to prevent her father’s downfall. She only wanted to delay it—long enough for Miriam Shaw to accept some hard truths, come to her senses.
‘We can agree a time limit. Say...four weeks.’
In two smooth motions he downed the remaining whisky and set the glass on the counter. ‘Let me get this straight. You want to play-act at being my mistress—’
‘Girlfriend.’
He flicked a hand in the air. ‘Same thing—in return for granting your father a grace period?’
‘Of sorts. Yes.’
He closed his eyes. Ran a wide palm over his jaw. ‘That’s insane.’
Totally.
She hiked her chin, swatted away the inclination to agree with him. ‘Why? We’d each be doing the other a favour. What’s so insane about that?’
‘Because I don’t need—’
‘I know. I know.’ Her turn to flick a hand. ‘You don’t need or want anything from me.’ She let that hang a moment. ‘But Carlos has met me now, and you said yourself he’s an important client. Why decline his invitation if you don’t need to? And, assuming you do want Anna to get the message loud and clear that you’re unavailable, why not make use of the opportunity?’
He folded his arms, his shirt stretching over biceps that bunched and flexed with what she guessed was a surge of testosterone-fuelled pride. ‘I can handle Santino’s daughter without your help.’
She let a knowing smile curve her mouth. ‘I’m sure you can. And, let’s face it, you’ve done a stellar job so far. So stellar, in fact, that she went to all the trouble of tracking your whereabouts and arranging to be at the same event as you—in a different city. A different country.’ She shook her head, turned her smile into a pitying grimace. ‘I hate to say this, Leo, but that’s not a girl who’s accepted no for an answer. That’s a woman still hot for the chase.’
His muscles deflated slightly, though the arrogant set of his jaw remained. ‘That’s quite some proposition, Helena. You and I pretending to be lovers. How do you think your father would feel about that?’
Helena swallowed, or tried to, but her mouth had gone suddenly dry. Lovers. The word had skimmed off his tongue with such ease and yet it drove home the reality of what she’d suggested. Of precisely the kind of role-playing required to convince a crowd of partygoers that she and Leo were a committed couple. Her belly quivered with something much more unsettling than nerves, but she couldn’t back down now.
She moistened her lips. ‘I don’t mix in my father’s circles. Not any more. Few people of note would recognise me, and certainly not in Rome. And if they did, well...why would you care? Isn’t that the reason I’m here tonight? Because you like the idea of getting under his skin?’
He frowned at that, eyes narrowed, his fingers yanking loose another button at his throat. He tugged at the collar and the shirt gaped, exposing the base of his strong neck and a triangle of chest deeply bronzed and dusted with fine whorls of dark hair.
Helena jerked her gaze north of his chin. Focus.
‘There’s no reason this can’t work. If people in Rome question why they haven’t seen us together before we’ll say we wanted to keep our relationship private until we’d figured out the long-distance thing. If we’re convincing, Anna will back off and lose interest, and once she’s moved on you can tell Carlos we broke up. That way he won’t ever have to know you lied to his daughter—’ she paused for a significant beat ‘—or to him.’
His jaw ground from side to side. ‘You really think you could pull that off? Convince the Santinos and their hundreds of guests—and there will be hundreds—that we’re a couple?’
‘Sure.’ She shrugged, strove for nonchalance. ‘Why not? We were lovers once.’
Briefly, admittedly, and then only after she’d convinced him that at nineteen, besides being a legally consenting adult, she was a level-headed young woman who knew her own mind. He had been older, yes, but six years was hardly cradle-snatcher territory. She’d wanted it, wanted him, as she’d never wanted anything before. And not once had she regretted what they’d shared—even in the days and months of heartache that followed. Sex with Leo had been the most intense, most beautiful and physically liberating experience of her life.
Nothing, and no one, had come close since.
Drawing courage from the alcohol warming her blood, she stepped forward and cupped a hand around his jaw. ‘It wouldn’t be so difficult, would it? Pretending we’re lovers? Pretending we’re enamoured of each other?’
She swayed her hips—a gentle, seductive grind that bumped their bodies and sparked a slow blossoming of heat low in her pelvis.
Bone and muscle shifted under her palm. He ground out an oath, seized her wrist. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Proving I can play the part. I can, Leo, if that’s what you’re worried about.’
There was no mistaking the growl in his throat this time. Or the sudden flash of heat in his eyes. His grip tightened and she thought for one heart-stopping moment he was going to kiss her—haul her against him, crash that harsh, beautiful mouth down on hers and kiss her. Her breath stalled. Her heartbeat hitched. A tiny, forbidden thrill of anticipation skimmed her spine.
Then his head was snapping back, his hand thrusting hers away as if he found her touch, her very proximity, repugnant. ‘How do I know your father didn’t put you up to this? That everything you’ve told me tonight isn’t more lies? Tell me why I should trust you.’
Heat seared Helena’s face even as the flare of desire in her belly iced over.
Because I loved you once! she almost shouted. Broke my heart in two for you. And, by God, doesn’t that make me the world’s biggest fool?
She bit the lining of her cheek. Distrust was written all over his face. In the hard, narrowed eyes, the implacable jaw. The contemptuous twist of his mouth.
She looked him in the eye and spoke with a quiet dignity that camouflaged the turmoil inside her. ‘I lied to you once, Leo. I don’t deny it and I’m not proud of it. I made up a weak, hurtful excuse to end our relationship because that was what my father wanted. Demanded.’
She passed a hand over her eyes, the strain of recent days coupled with sleepless nights taking its toll.
‘My greatest mistake was believing that if I obeyed him, did what he wanted, that would be the end of it. Why he went after you I’ll never know. Maybe he was punishing me. Maybe he did it simply because he could. Whatever his reasons, I can assure you this—I did not tell him anything about you or your project. Wherever he got his information, it wasn’t from me.’ She exhaled on a heavy sigh, the last of her energy rapidly waning. ‘Is it really so hard for you to believe me now?’
His gaze held hers, no softening visible in those midnight depths. ‘After the stunt you just pulled, what do you think?’
She backed up a step, the ice in her belly trickling into her veins. Astonishing that a man could nurse his anger, his resentment, his need for retribution for so many years. Pride, rage, distrust—whatever the emotions that drove him, they were too strong, too ingrained for her to fight against and win.
&n
bsp; She collected her purse, turned to face him one last time. ‘You really want to know what I think? I think you’re right. This is insane, and I’m sorry I suggested it. Manipulation might be my father’s forte, maybe even yours, but it’s not mine.’ She walked to the door and glanced back, her smile brittle. ‘Good luck with taking my father down a peg or two.’ She inclined her head. ‘I believe he might have met his match.’
She opened the door and paused a moment, half expecting a presence to loom at her back, a hand to fall on her shoulder. But she heard no footfalls, no rustle of movement behind her. She stepped out, closed the door and rode the elevator down to the foyer.
Minutes later, striding through the brisk evening air to the nearest tube station, she angrily dashed the tears from her eyes.
She would not let them fall.
Leo didn’t deserve her anguish.
Not seven years ago, and not now.
* * *
Leo stopped pacing just long enough to glare at the whisky bottle and dismiss the notion of refilling his glass.
Getting tanked so he could obliterate this evening from his memory held a certain appeal, but he’d cleaned up his father’s drunken messes too often as a kid to condone such mindless excess. Not to mention he’d have one hell of a hangover. Besides, his pilot had scheduled an early-morning return to Rome, and a flight-change was out of the question. If he turned up to Marietta’s first ever art exhibition a dishevelled, ill-tempered wreck he’d spend days, if not weeks, earning his little sister’s forgiveness.
He flung his restless frame into a chair, his muscles stiff after the effort of holding his body in check. Of stopping himself from charging after Helena like some raging Neanderthal and forcing her to press those sultry curves against him one more time.
Scowling at the flash of heat in his groin, he got up to pace again. He was too wired to sit, his head too full of questions clamouring for answers. Answers he needed if he were to make any sense of Helena’s actions. The idea that she’d come to him without her father’s knowledge, that she and Shaw were estranged and had been for years, that she’d abandoned her studies, now lived alone in the city, worked nine-to-five as a secretary in a bank...
Surrendering to the Vengeful Italian Page 5
