by Julia James
Alicia’s back tensed; she felt Dante straighten beside her. She struggled to interpret the words she’d just heard. ‘What are you talking about? Who is Paolo?’
Her friend gave her a funny look. ‘Why, Mel’s boyfriend, of course, silly. He arrived last night. He stayed in the chair beside her bed, absolutely besotted.’ She bustled towards the ward, guiding them in. ‘She’s still very weak, so maybe don’t make it a long visit today, OK?’
Alicia felt herself nod dumbly. She still couldn’t process the words. She was vaguely aware of Dante behind her, his hand moving to her back, propelling her forward. She moved, but didn’t know how. They were in a ward of four beds, the curtains pulled around her sister’s. Somehow instinctively Alicia just knew that everything was about to fall apart.
And when she pulled back the curtain she nearly fainted for the second time in two days.
‘Lissy …’ Melanie’s weakened voice was a thread of its normal chatty vitality but Alicia couldn’t even look at her yet. She couldn’t move. She stared in abject mounting horror at a younger, slightly less good looking, slightly smaller version of Dante D’Aquanni. She had to be so exhausted that she was hallucinating. That was it—extreme tiredness and stress. She raised a hand to her head.
‘Lissy? Are you OK?’
Finally she turned to look at her sister and blanched when she saw her still too pale face, one livid scar still across her forehead. But a hint of colour warmed her cheeks under the sickly pallor and the sight of her bump under the bedclothes was reassuring. Alicia nodded her head jerkily.
An autocratic hand propelled her towards a chair beside the bed. Melanie reached out a hand and took Alicia’s in hers. ‘What is it? The nurses said you’d been gone since yesterday. Where did you—’
Melanie broke off and looked from Alicia to Dante D’Aquanni, who she’d just noticed. Out of the corner of her eye, Alicia saw the younger man stand, bristling.
Melanie’s voice sounded strained and Alicia could see this man take her hand in support. ‘Mr D’Aquanni. What are you doing here?’
Dante stepped forward into the light and seemed to Alicia to energise the small space. ‘Your sister here seems to be under the misapprehension that I am the father of your unborn child.’ Alicia couldn’t be unaware of the way his glance flicked down to the bump of her sister’s belly, as if to confirm for himself that she had been telling the truth.
Melanie looked at Alicia. ‘How … what … however did you get that idea?’
Alicia fought valiantly against sinking into the ground into the comfort of another dead faint. She couldn’t look at Dante.
‘When I came here last week, you were feverish … I asked you who had done this to you and all you said was, “Dante D’Aquanni,” his was the only name you mentioned. You said you’d been on your way to see him. You asked me to find him for you …’
‘I did?’
Alicia smiled sadly. This wasn’t Melanie’s fault. ‘You probably don’t remember.’
Melanie groaned and glanced at the young man beside her shyly. ‘I had been on my way to see Mr D’Aquanni.’ She glanced at him then with a little trepidation. ‘But it was only to ask him to bring back Paolo …’
‘Paolo …’ Alicia repeated dumbly.
Dante spoke then, and Alicia flinched slightly at the harshness of his tone. ‘Paolo D’Aquanni—the man your sister was having an affair with at the office. My brother.’
His words seemed to come from far away. Alicia looked across at Paolo. ‘So you’re …’
Melanie squeezed her hand. ‘Yes, Lissy, he’s the one, the father of my baby.’
Distaste flavoured Dante’s mouth. His eyes raked over Melanie, taking in her undoubtedly weakened state. He had to admit that she couldn’t have faked the crash. She looked to be taller than Alicia; they shared the same colouring, but her eyes were blue, not a deep, dark chocolate brown. He ruthlessly drove down his awareness of the small woman beside the bed.
This touching scene left him cold. These two women held such echoes of the past for him that he wanted to stop this charade at once. And yet his brother was looking at Melanie with such naked love and already, sickeningly, Dante knew the damage had been done. These women were wily operators, reacting to the changing circumstances, the arrival of Paolo, with sheer bold bravado. He was quite certain that the baby was no more Paolo’s than his … and Paolo was naive and silly enough to believe it.
History was being repeated …
Dante bit out curtly, ‘Paolo, I’d like to talk to you for a moment privately.’
The young man coloured and swallowed, but he followed his older brother out. Alicia felt a little sorry for him but sagged back with relief when they had left. The shock still reverberated through her body, numbing her to her churning stomach and brain.
Alicia knew instinctively from that short moment between the brothers that Dante was the supreme boss and she, in spectacular style, had no doubt blasted any sympathy Dante might have had for Paolo and this situation. What a mess. And it was entirely her fault. She focused on her sister. She couldn’t worry Melanie.
Quashing the looming worries—the thought of what Dante might do and feelings of intense guilt—Alicia got up to give her sister a quick hug and kiss. She was OK, that was the main thing.
‘Oh, Mel …’ tears threatened ‘… I thought I’d lost you.’
Melanie’s eyes filled too. ‘Don’t, Lissy. I’m not going anywhere. Especially not now that Paolo is here.’ Her cheeks did flood with colour then and, as glad as Alicia was to see it, she knew she had to be careful not to let her get overexcited. ‘Oh, Lissy, we’re going to get married! He’s asked me to marry him. And we’re going to move into town so I can be near Dr Hardy—’
Alicia looked at Melanie seriously, knowing that they were still not certain of anything. ‘Melanie …’
Melanie shook her head emphatically. ‘He’s the one—the one I couldn’t mention. When Mr D’Aquanni found out about us seeing each other he went beserk. He sent Paolo to the office in Tokyo. But we kept in touch. Then, a couple of months after he left, I found out I was pregnant. I’d been so upset about him being sent away that I hadn’t even noticed my periods stopping.’ She looked at Alicia sheepishly. ‘I had been planning on going out there too. I didn’t care if I’d have to leave the company, just so we could be together but then.’ she looked at her belly fondly for a second. ‘I couldn’t go. I want to have my baby here. I was going to beg Mr D’Aquanni to let him come back.’
Alicia looked at her and shook her head. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
Melanie sighed. ‘I couldn’t, Lissy. I tried calling the camp but couldn’t get through. I didn’t want to send it in an e-mail as you might have been worried … and I’d got your e-mail to say you were due home soon anyway. I wanted it to be a nice surprise, for me and Paolo to be together when you met him for the first time …’
Alicia smoothed back some hair from her sister’s forehead. ‘Oh, hon …’
At that moment the two men came back into the small cubicle. Dante looked dangerous. Paolo came back to Melanie’s side and took her hand again, staring at his brother belligerently.
Dante wasn’t happy. His expression was stony and remote. He looked at Alicia. ‘I’ll give you a lift home now.’
‘But I’ve just got here.’
‘Alicia …’
Something stopped her immediate retort. His voice seemed to act like some kind of hypnotic beacon to her weakened body and mind. She wasn’t ready to be alone with this man, to face the obvious recriminations coming her way, and yet … it seemed like the only thing she could do was to answer his summons.
She looked at Melanie and her younger sister suddenly seemed like the one in control, frail though she was. ‘You should go, Lissy, get some sleep. You haven’t had a moment’s rest since you came home …’
As Alicia hovered between getting up and staying where she was, Melanie pulled her towards her at the last second an
d whispered into her ear, clasping her hand, ‘Liss, you don’t have to worry about me any more; I have Paolo now.’
Alicia stood and swayed ominously. She felt as though she were on a dinghy that had been cut loose from the shore and was floating helplessly out to sea, everything she knew becoming a smaller and smaller dot in the distance. And, to compound this feeling, Dante was immediately there, his arm around her an unwelcome support. She tried to ignore its effect, looked across at Paolo and smiled weakly. ‘It was nice to meet you.’
He nodded soberly. ‘You, too.’ He promptly turned his attention back to Melanie.
And then she was walking away, with Dante’s arm still around her. It was only when they reached the main entrance of the hospital and the cool air rushed forward and embraced her that Alicia found the strength to pull away jerkily. Too much had just happened for her to process fully and her insides clawed with shame and guilt at how badly she’d misconstrued things.
She looked at Dante with her arms wrapped tight around her body. So many emotions were rushing through her that she didn’t even know where to start. She felt herself being pulled in a million different directions and a very scary feeling of relief, which she hadn’t had the courage to acknowledge yet because it wasn’t entirely to do with Melanie’s recovery.
Bravely she stuck her chin out, looking at Dante directly. ‘I’m sorry.’
Dante looked at her for a long moment and she had to fight not to look away from his penetrating gaze. He looked like an exotic Italian prince against the backdrop of the grey English hospital. A group of nurses passed and stared openly at him, their appreciation obvious as they went through the doors. He didn’t seem to notice. His expression was blank. Scarily blank. After what seemed like an age, he said simply, quietly, ‘Sorry?’
Something in his manner made the past rear its ugly head. Alicia could remember all too well what it had been like to see a foreign god on domestic soil. She had been one of those nurses in the not too distant past and, even though she knew it was irrational, that he was a different person, that it was projection, an ugly emotion rose up.
She felt it rise and welcomed it. ‘Yes. Sorry.’ She waved an airy hand, not knowing where this ability to act so nonchalantly had come from. A part of her was completely aghast at what she’d hurled at this man by way of insult and accusation—all unfounded. But … something else was driving her.
‘I had very good reason for believing that you were the father of my sister’s baby. I’d just got off a long flight, had come home to find my sister in hospital, five months pregnant, apparently abandoned by the father. I had no idea who her lover was and the only name she mentioned then was yours. She was in need of expensive medical care. How do you think I came to the conclusions I did, given how I felt?’
Dante regarded her. She was priceless. She couldn’t even be bothered to act contrite, now that she was sure that they had at least one D’Aquanni falling for their plan. His mouth quirked. ‘Oh, I think I have an idea.’
Immediately she felt deflated and humbled. Seeing his brother there must have been a shock to him, although, since he’d known of the relationship, slightly less than hers. Something niggled at her then but she couldn’t hold on to it, still too stunned. ‘Of course you do; I’m sorry.’
‘That’s three “I’m sorry”s—how many more do you think will make up for the chaos you’ve brought into my life?’ And the chaos you’re no doubt still planning on bringing into our lives …
Alicia stood as tall as she could. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. There. Believe me, I’m truly sorry I ever believed you to be the father, that I went all the way to your offices, to your villa …’ She had become more and more worked up with her words, the shock wearing off and felt herself starting to dissolve. She stepped back and away, her throat thick with tears. She just had to get away from him—now. ‘Just … I’m sorry, OK? I’ll get a bus home, you can go back to Italy on your plane and forget we ever met. Forget about the money. Melanie and I will look after ourselves.’ After all, we’ve been doing it all our lives …
Dante had to fight the urge to roll his eyes and say, Oh, please. Now she was going to the other extreme and starting to seriously overact.
Alicia couldn’t think clearly, she was too consumed with the shock after shock, too used to thinking of herself and Melanie as a self-contained unit. Her head was churning so much that she couldn’t process the information calmly, see the way forward. To see that they did have another person who had pledged to help—Paolo. She just needed to get away from Dante right now, her emotions were raw and too near the surface. He was too … too much.
She turned and started to walk away, the car park in front of her a blur through her swimming eyes. God. She hadn’t cried in years, despite some of the scenes she’d witnessed in Africa, and here she was, blubbing every two minutes. And fainting like some wan heroine from a bad costume drama.
A hard hand caught her arm, swinging her back. All she could see was a huge, dark blurry shape. She couldn’t speak. The next thing she knew, she was wrapped in arms so strong and so comforting that she would have believed it if she’d been told at that moment that she was in heaven. She cried for what seemed like an aeon. For herself. For Melanie.
And for accusing this man wrongly, for not being able to say sorry with any grace because he was causing all manner of scary feelings in her belly. The tears came until her eyes were dry and her throat was raw.
* * *
Despite his best intentions, Dante had reacted on pure impulse and an instinct so strong that he’d had no alternative but to let it run through him. He knew her tears were part of the act—knew it. But something in her body as she’d turned away had made him pull her back, unable to let her walk away.
He’d never held a crying woman in his arms before.
Physical desire.
That was all it was. He couldn’t fathom it, couldn’t rationalize it—it just was. Something about this woman was calling to him on a base level and he knew he had to see it through to its conclusion. No matter what it took. With customary ruthlessness that made him feel on safer ground, he started to formulate a plan of sorts. It would placate Paolo, who was proving to be dismayingly, resolutely obstinate in his support of Melanie, and it would mean he could keep an eye on Alicia and her sister. And he would get her into his bed to sate this burning fire.
Her body had finally stopped its uncontrollable shaking. He could feel her take a deep breath against his chest, and her soft breasts rise and swell against his belly. His groin tightened, the blood rushed south. He was making the right decision. He pulled away, tipping her head back to face him with one hand, almost hoping for a second that she’d have turned into some kind of hag in the interim, like in a cartoon.
But no … she looked exquisite. Her eyes were huge, the colour of crushed dark velvet and dewed with moisture, her mouth a quivering invitation, the tracks of tears on her cheeks an enticement to drop his head, kiss them away.
He saw something in her eyes then, a vulnerability that she hadn’t displayed before … because she’d been too busy being brave. The thought sneaked in and stunned him with its rogue audacity for a second. For that second, before his cynical brain could kick into gear again, he was caught by something else.
With his thumb he gently touched the healing cut on her cheek. She flinched ever so slightly and then shock slammed into him. Everything jumped back into sharp focus.
What was he doing? Thinking?
He was no better than his poor duped brother at that moment. He felt the need to pull back. Retreat. He was fast heading into uncharted waters and didn’t like it. The woman and her sister were consummate actresses and manipulators—nothing had changed that fact—and yet here he was, letting himself be swayed by a few crocodile tears.
‘Let’s get you home.’ He put her away from him and made a quick curt call on his mobile. Within seconds the sleek black car that had taken them from the plane to the hospital s
lid to a silent halt beside them. Alicia trembled slightly and felt an awful shiver of foreboding skate down her spine when she saw how Dante’s face had turned back into a mask of cool indifference. For one moment there, she could have sworn she’d seen something else, something far more human.
He stopped her just before she got into the car. She looked up warily.
‘Just for the record, don’t let Paolo’s fervent avowal to marry Melanie and look after her lull you into complacency that your plan has worked. I’m still under no illusions that Paolo is about as likely to be the father as myself.’
Alicia’s jaw clenched hard and before she could articulate a word she was being unceremoniously handed into the back of the car, one thought in her head: he’s not human at all; he’s cold and cruel …
CHAPTER FIVE
‘HAVE you seen it?’
‘I’m looking at it right now.’ Dante was grim. With one hand he held his mobile to his ear, with the other he held open the front of the tabloid. Breakfast sat uneaten at his hotel room table. It was the following morning and he was still here in England. That uncomfortable fact was not lost on Dante. He flicked the paper again to see the picture more clearly and stretched long legs out.
His assistant sounded mildly exasperated, and only the fact that they went back so far gave him the audacity to say, ‘Well? Care to tell me what it’s about?’
‘Not particularly, Alex.’ Because, in truth, he still wasn’t even sure himself what had happened.
A sigh came down the other end of the phone. ‘Look, Dante, there’s a photo of you kissing a strange woman on the steps of your villa, very passionately I might add. The merger conference is days away. The Americans have made a big deal about no unnecessary publicity. You know Buchanen has always disapproved of your playboy status … and with his strategic importance—’
‘I am aware of that Alex.’ Dante bit out. ‘And I’m two steps ahead of you. The woman is called Alicia Parker and she will be accompanying me to the conference as my …’ he searched for the right word. ‘hostess.’
