by Annie West
A shrill cry split the air, followed by a splash in the pool. There was laughter then another splash.
‘So I gather.’ His expression didn’t change but there was steel in his tone that told her he had no time for party games. ‘But I’m here to become acquainted with your family. With you, Ella.’
There it was again, that tremor of excitement as he said her name. Ella rubbed her hands up her bare arms to smooth sudden goose bumps. Too late she saw her mistake, when his gaze zeroed in on the movement. It wasn’t cold. The night was balmy. He knew she was reacting to him.
Ella shouldn’t have let pride tempt her into raiding her sister’s wardrobe. Years as the frump of the family, the one with puppy fat and boring brown hair instead of glorious golden locks, had made her determined to look good. Now, wedged into her sister’s dress, perched in glittery shoes, she craved her sensible trousers and flats.
She turned to lean on the waist-high terrace wall, pretending to look at the harbour view.
Donato stood over a metre away. Yet she felt him as if they touched. How was it possible?
‘I didn’t know until tonight that your father had three children. I’d only heard of two.’
That was no surprise. Reg Sanderson never boasted about his boring middle child as he did about his clever son or gorgeous older daughter. Until tonight Ella had been persona non grata.
‘Felicity and Rob are closer to him. Rob even worked for him.’ Until too-close exposure to their father’s business soured his enthusiasm. Rob was a corporate lawyer and Ella suspected he’d seen too much of their father’s business tactics.
‘Yet I haven’t seen photos of you with your sister in the press.’
Ella blinked. ‘You read the social pages?’ He looked the kind of man who only read finance and politics.
‘You’d be surprised what I read.’
She frowned. ‘It matters to you, does it? Who’s seen at high-profile parties?’
‘It matters that I understand people when I’m about to do business with them.’
Ella stiffened. ‘Your business is with my father, not me or Felicity.’
His regard was enigmatic and unblinking. Challenging.
‘You were checking up on her?’
He shrugged. ‘Isn’t it natural that I take an interest in your family?’
Since he planned to marry into it. Her stomach clenched.
‘Did you hire investigators too?’ She whipped around to face him full on.
‘Why would that bother you?’
‘Because it would be an invasion of privacy. It would be—’ she shuddered ‘—intrusive.’
Had there been cameras trained on her sister when she partied? When she and Matthew were together? Ella frowned. Fuzz mightn’t be the best sister in the world but she was the only one Ella had.
‘Did you spy on my sister?’ Ella stepped up to Donato, her hands finding her hips, her bottom lip jutting.
‘Your sister? No.’ He was staring at her mouth.
Crazily, she felt her lips go dry. She swallowed and he watched the movement. How could it feel as if he trailed a finger down her throat when he hadn’t lifted a hand?
Hormones. They danced riotously, making her heart drum against her ribcage and her insides clench needily.
Ella swiped her parched lips with her tongue and wished she hadn’t. His look seared. She wanted to back up a step but he’d know why. She was stuck there, her neck arched to meet his intense scrutiny, her body taut as a spinnaker billowing and snapping in a sudden gale.
She didn’t imagine the turbulence in the air. It was real and it emanated from him.
‘You didn’t hire investigators?’ she pressed.
He shook his head, eyes never leaving hers. ‘No one investigated you or your siblings. Otherwise I’d have known about you before tonight, wouldn’t I?’
Ella drew in a deep breath, searching for calm. Trying to ignore the way her bra scraped her over-sensitive breasts and budding nipples. Trying to concentrate on the conversation, not how this man made her feel.
It took a moment to realise what he hadn’t said.
He’d said nothing about whether he’d had her father investigated.
A sound made her turn. It was a waiter with a laden tray, coming down the stairs. Ella moved towards him. Her throat was dry but more, she craved something to distract her from the sensation of being cut off alone with Donato.
‘Drink, sir? Ma’am?’
‘Champagne, Ella?’ Donato was right behind her. Had she really thought to escape so easily?
‘Water, please.’
‘Sensible choice.’ He took two glasses of sparkling water and nodded his thanks to the waiter, who headed back to the higher terraces. Ella watched him go, wondering what would happen if she simply followed.
That wouldn’t work. She needed to sort this out here, in private, away from curious eyes.
‘Sensible?’ Did he think she’d drink too much then lose her inhibitions?
Donato held out a drink, touching only the bottom of the glass, as if careful of any glancing contact.
Ella was inordinately grateful. Since they’d met she’d felt his presence like a touch—on her lips, her skin, her breasts. She suspected the real thing—his skin against hers—might be her undoing.
Carefully she took the glass. ‘Thanks.’
‘Sometimes it’s wise to keep a clear head. Tonight is one of those times.’
She’d lifted the glass to her lips but paused. Was he talking about her father’s idea that he marry Fuzz? Or did he refer to the swirl of attraction enveloping them?
‘About my father’s proposal...’
‘Which one?’
Ella stared. There was more than one?
Of course there was. The old man no doubt had a whole raft of business proposals for Donato. He’d be looking to screw every dollar he could out of him.
‘About Felicity.’
‘Yes?’ Damn the man. He just stood there waiting, making her feel appallingly awkward.
Ella sipped her water, grateful for the cool fizz on her palate, easing the constriction in her throat. ‘She’s away long term. She has a commitment interstate.’
Donato nodded and Ella drew a relieved breath.
Of course he wasn’t interested in her father’s suggestion that they marry. Donato Salazar would pick his own woman. He’d just been too polite to tell her father his idea was old-fashioned and unnecessary.
‘She won’t be coming back to Sydney.’
‘So I understand.’ He paused. ‘Am I permitted to ask what keeps her away, or would that fall under the category of an invasion of privacy?’
Was he laughing at her?
‘It’s no secret. She’s working in Queensland, managing a large interior-design project.’
‘Really?’ One eyebrow cocked up. ‘I wasn’t aware your sister actually worked.’
Ella felt a slow burn radiate out from her belly. Not sexual arousal this time but shame on Fuzz’s behalf.
It was true. Her twenty-seven-year-old sister had never done a day’s paid work. The closest she’d come were charity modelling gigs. But that was changing. Fuzz was committed to this project. If she stuck at it this would be the making of her. Once she was away from their father—
‘As you say, Donato—’ Ella halted, thrown for a second by how much she enjoyed saying his name. She was like a teenager stricken by lust for the first time! ‘You don’t know us.’ She drew herself up, standing as tall as she could. ‘Fuzz... Felicity is part of the design team for a major Queensland resort.’ Well, it would be a major resort once it was finished.
‘This is the resort your brother has invested in?’
‘You know about that?’
�
�Your father said he’d left the family firm in order to strike out on his own. Still in the same field though, entertainment and hospitality.’
‘Not quite the same. My father’s wealth is built on gambling, poker machines and casinos.’
‘Not just gambling.’ The riposte came quickly and Ella tried to read that crisp tone. There was something adamantine in his voice, something new that sent anxiety skidding down her backbone. Instinct twanged in warning. She took another long sip of iced water, grounding herself.
‘Your father has had diverse interests.’ Ella thought she saw his lip curl. Then the impression was gone. He looked back blandly.
‘Felicity has another reason for being in Queensland.’ She needed to make it clear her father’s scheme was impractical. ‘She’s living with her partner. They’re working together.’
‘A permanent relationship, then?’
‘Absolutely.’ More permanent, at least, than any of her sister’s previous relationships. ‘I know my father suggested you get to know Felicity better.’ She couldn’t bring herself to use the word marry. ‘But in the circumstances that’s not possible.’
‘I understand completely.’ Donato’s lips curved in a smile that did the strangest things to her internal organs.
The man was devastating. Totally mind-blowingly gorgeous. He looked like some lethally enthralling anti-hero bent on breaking every rule, perhaps even ravishing a few virgins along the way.
Ella blinked and stared. What had got into her head? Flights of fancy were so not her.
Donato moved in, blocking her view of the other terraces and instantly her nerves jangled. She tightened her grip on the water glass, slippery with condensation.
‘Your father thought our business partnership would be enhanced by a family tie. He suggested marriage.’
Ella waited for his derision at the idea. Instead she met only speculation in Donato’s gaze.
‘That’s not an option. Felicity is spoken for,’ she reiterated.
‘I hope she’ll be very happy.’ Donato raised his glass in salute. ‘And may I say how lucky I am that your father has another charming daughter to take her place?’
CHAPTER THREE
ELLA STARED INTO eyes that held not a whit of humour.
The hairs at her nape rose at the weight of that heavy-lidded regard.
Her, as her sister’s replacement.
For a split second Ella felt triumph, elation at the prospect of being his. Of experiencing all that intensity, not as a curious specimen to be studied but as a lover.
Her gaze slewed to the breadth of those shoulders, the lean strength of the man beneath the exquisite tailoring. What would it feel like being held in those arms?
She reared back, water spilling from her glass.
‘I’m not my sister’s stand-in.’ The words jerked out from her constricting throat.
‘Of course not. You’re a unique individual.’ His smile was all smooth charm. If you didn’t look into those eyes, calculating and aware.
‘Don’t patronise me.’
‘My apologies. I assumed you’d prefer me to be frank.’
‘Of course I do.’ She gripped her glass in both hands.
He watched assessingly. ‘Then let me say nothing appeals more than the prospect of knowing you better.’
There was nothing salacious in his tone, or his expression, yet those words—knowing you—held hidden depth. Knowing as in sexually knowing.
It should have horrified her yet it didn’t.
She wanted him. Here. Now. With an immediacy that overrode every cautious, pragmatic, sensible bone in her body. With a raw hunger that totally disregarded the fact he was caviar and champagne in a crystal flute or perhaps arctic vodka, strong and lethal, while she was brown bread and tea in a good, sturdy pot.
‘Don’t be absurd. We have nothing in common.’
‘I suspect we have a great deal in common, Ella.’ He paused, as if savouring her name. ‘Your father and his business, for instance.’
She spun away, stalking half a dozen steps before turning to face him. He was just as imposing, and smug, from here.
Then, to her dismay, he closed the gap with a couple of easy strides. Annoyance fizzed in her belly.
‘You’re not interested in getting to know me.’ A man like Donato Salazar would want a high-profile trophy wife. Not a plain Jane woman whose feet ached at the end of a long day.
‘I thought we’d already established that you don’t know what goes on inside my head?’
He didn’t look annoyed. Instead he looked...engaged. His tall body canted towards her as if drawn by the same force she felt urging her closer to him.
She stepped back, ignoring the knowing uptilt of those slashing eyebrows.
She understood attraction. Even understood the lure of the dangerous, though she’d always chosen a safer, more prosaic route through life.
Yet she’d never experienced this heat of desire. It saturated her, made her imagine impossible things. Like grabbing Donato’s collar and yanking that proud, scarred face down to hers. She wanted to savour him, lose herself in the passion she knew was hiding below that veneer of polite calm.
His nostrils flared, his chest rising sharp and sudden, as if he’d intercepted her thoughts. His gaze dropped to her mouth.
The night air zapped and thickened.
‘I don’t know anything about you.’
‘But that doesn’t matter, does it?’ His deep voice wove around her. ‘It doesn’t stop what you’re feeling.’
Ella opened her mouth to snap that she felt nothing.
But he was watching keenly, waiting for her to flutter and fuss and deny this awareness between them. She wouldn’t play coy. It would be an admission of fear and showing fear to this man would only invite trouble.
Ella jerked her chin up. ‘I don’t know what sort of women you usually mix with, Donato. But know this. I’m not about to act on impulse with a stranger.’
‘No matter how tempting.’ He gave voice to her thoughts, making her start.
‘What?’ he drawled, his voice like honey and gravel. ‘You think I’m not tempted? You think my hands aren’t itching to slide over your luscious body? To pull you tight against me and feel how well we fit? To taste you?’
The sudden change from amused outsider to consummate seducer slammed her heart against her ribs.
‘You think I’m not tempted to make you acknowledge exactly how much you want me?’
Ella’s breath disintegrated. His gaze flickered to her heaving breasts and fire exploded within. She was burning up and nothing, she suspected, could put out the conflagration except Donato.
The idea appalled as much as it excited her.
She looked at the glass shaking in her too-tight grip. Had her drink been spiked? How she wished she had such an easy excuse.
‘It doesn’t matter what you want, Donato.’ She lifted her head to meet his stare. ‘It’s not going to happen.’
His gaze sharpened and anxiety feathered through her. Too late she pondered the wisdom of declaring an outright challenge. She had a disturbing feeling Donato Salazar thrived on smashing challenges.
‘Never say never, Ella.’
The intensity of his look scared her. Suddenly she felt out of her depth. She wanted to be in her flat, curled up in her pyjamas with a movie and the block of chocolate she’d been saving all week.
‘I want to know you, Ella.’
‘How? Sexually?’ She put her glass down on a nearby table before she dropped it.
‘I like that you say exactly what you think, Ella. It’s refreshing.’
She stuck her hands on her hips and this time she did give in to impulse, stalking a step closer till she realised her mistake and shuddered to a hal
t. But she refused to backtrack, even though she stood near enough to inhale his heady masculine scent.
‘You’re a slow learner, Donato. I told you not to patronise me.’
He shook his head. ‘I’m just telling you the truth.’ His mouth widened in a smile that drew her belly tight. ‘Do I want your body? Absolutely.’ His gaze dipped then rose again. ‘We’ll be magnificent together.’
No if, just absolute certainty. Where did this man get off, assuming she was his for the taking?
‘But I want more. I want to understand you.’
Of all the things he could have said, of all the things he had said, this was the one that cut her defences off at the knees.
No man had ever wanted to understand her. Not her father, who’d wanted her to be pretty and frivolous and pander to his ego. Not the guys she’d met at long-ago society parties, nor the men she’d dated since.
Longing coursed through her. He was clever, this man, too clever. He really did know what women wanted.
‘Why?’ She tilted her head to one side, wishing she could read him. ‘We’re strangers. And don’t tell me it’s because you think my father’s idea of marrying into this family is a good one. I want the truth.’
Ella held herself tall, ready for Donato’s blast of outrage, conditioned to it after a lifetime dealing with her father’s volatile temperament.
‘You think I’d lie?’
‘Men usually do when they want something.’
‘You don’t have a high opinion of men.’ He looked curious rather than offended. ‘But I applaud your caution.’
‘You do?’
He nodded. ‘It pays not to accept everything at face value. Too many people put themselves at risk then find themselves in situations they can’t control or escape.’ His voice rang with a depth of feeling that surprised her.
She couldn’t imagine anyone taking advantage of Donato.
‘Did that ever happen to you?’
Long moments passed, then he surprised her. ‘Of course. But once was enough. It won’t happen again.’ His words held absolute certainty.
Ella wished she possessed such conviction. She should walk away from Donato Salazar and the danger he represented. He made her want things that scared the daylights out of her.
