Seducing His Enemy's Daughter: Christmas at the Castello (bonus novella)

by Annie West

  Ella lifted her hand as if to take his, then stopped.

  ‘No.’ Her hand dropped and Donato was surprised at the strength of his disappointment. ‘Thank you. But...’ She shook her head and the afternoon sun caught the sheen of honey gilt. ‘I need to go.’

  Donato was about to insist she remain when he read the strain around her mouth. He knew he could have her in his bed all night, enjoying what his body urged him to take. He could weasel the information he wanted after breaking down her defences.

  He let his arm fall. He wanted Ella’s passion and her sweet body. He wanted to understand her and her relationship with her father. But he wouldn’t seduce the details from her.

  His belly churned in a moment of unfamiliar disquiet. He was already taking advantage, pretending to want marriage. It wasn’t just Sanderson pressuring her, putting the shadows beneath her bright eyes.

  Amazingly, for the first time in years, doubt shivered through what passed for his conscience. More than doubt, it was guilt, its sharp blade scraping.

  Donato sat up, his jaw setting as Ella gathered her clothes. She might be vulnerable and sassy, sexy and funny and, he suspected, brave, but he couldn’t allow her to stand in the way of justice.

  Nothing would save Reg Sanderson from his deserts. Not even the fact his daughter was the most appealing, fascinating woman Donato could recall knowing.

  He stood, retrieving her floaty top that had landed on the day bed’s high canopy.

  ‘Thank you.’ Her eyes didn’t meet his and he caught again that hint of embarrassment.

  Their hands brushed and sensation jolted. Maldición! Need was like an electric current running through him.

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  She shook her head and he had to restrain himself from catching those honey-brown tresses and hauling her close again.

  ‘I’m busy.’

  ‘Be ready at nine. I’ll collect you.’

  ‘You don’t know where I live. And you promised not to set your investigators onto me.’

  Donato suppressed a smile. That was better. Her eyes shone with challenge and her chin notched high.

  ‘I didn’t promise not to follow you home.’ He let that sink in. ‘I’ll just toss on some clothes.’ He reached for his shirt, absently noting a couple of missing buttons.

  Her deep sigh drew his attention. Despite her defiant air, she clutched her clothes close, hiding herself. As if he couldn’t perfectly recall those enticing curves.

  ‘Okay. I’ll meet you tomorrow. I’ll come here at midday.’

  ‘Nine.’

  ‘Eleven.’

  ‘Nine.’ He brushed her hair off her cheek. ‘And I promise not to ring you after midnight.’ She shivered and he moved closer, inhaling her skin’s delicate perfume, like sweet peas and sunshine.

  ‘Nine-thirty, then. And you won’t call me at all.’

  Donato didn’t say anything. If she thought he’d pass up a chance to hear her voice, husky and delicious, when he couldn’t have her in his bed...well, she didn’t know him yet.

  * * *

  ‘That’s it. You’ve got the hang of it now.’ Donato’s voice was warm with approval and encouragement and Ella felt emotion flare. Pleasure? Pride? Or excitement at being so close to him?

  No time to work it out now. She had to concentrate.

  ‘Shift your left hand.’

  She watched as Donato demonstrated. Like her, he was suspended on a rope, halfway down a rock face. Except, unlike her, he was perfectly at ease. His eyes danced with pleasure and she’d seen his exhilaration earlier as he’d abseiled down the cliff then swarmed back up with an efficiency that left her in breathless awe.

  She knew he was strong. It was two weeks since she’d become intimately acquainted with his body. But seeing him now she realised how carefully he leashed that power when they made love.

  ‘Ella? Are you okay?’

  ‘Fine.’ She wrenched her gaze to the rock and made herself concentrate on his instructions. Carefully she stepped backwards, feeling the rope play out in her gloved hand.

  ‘Perfect. You’ve got it.’

  Delight filled her. It was partly the thrill of abseiling and partly the effect of his approval.

  Since when had she wanted Donato’s approval?

  She froze, her throat catching.

  ‘You’re doing well, Ella. Just keep moving.’ His voice was encouraging but businesslike enough to focus her. The perfect teacher.

  Who’d have thought it? She remembered that first night when he’d seemed so daunting with his saturnine looks and air of despotic authority.

  But the Donato she’d begun to know had surprising depths. He got his own way too much and there was a shut-off side to him she couldn’t penetrate, yet he was unexpectedly thoughtful and...kind.

  He moved close but not close enough to crowd her. ‘Try bending your knees and pushing off. Just a little bounce. You know you’re safe.’

  Ella nodded. She’d inspected the equipment, learning all she could before she’d agreed to try this. And their professional guide was at the top, watching out for her.

  Tentatively she bent her legs, pushing off from the rock. For a dizzying instant fear hit her, then the thrill of it kicked in. She did it again, this time releasing the rope a little so she moved out and down in an arc.

  ‘I did it!’ A grin split her face.

  ‘Of course you did, since you set your mind to it.’

  Ella turned and found Donato smiling as if he was as thrilled as she was. The warmth of his smile lit her inside.

  ‘Come on, let’s get to the bottom.’

  Ella turned back to the rock, concentrating on each movement. Yet as she descended, thrilled by the fun of it, she was aware of him beside her, matching his pace to hers.

  Finally she stood on shaky legs, breathing hard, adrenalin coursing through her body.

  ‘Good?’ Donato pulled her close, his hands on her hips, and a different sort of thrill shot through her.

  ‘Marvellous.’

  ‘Glad you agreed to try something different this weekend?’

  ‘Absolutely.’ She braced her hands on his shoulders when he would have pulled her closer. ‘When did you learn to climb?’

  He waited before replying, as if assessing her curiosity. ‘In my early twenties. I discovered a taste for wide-open spaces.’ His mouth curled at the corner. ‘Not surprising after being penned in. When I could, which wasn’t often, given I was building a business from scratch, I’d get out of the city. Windsurfing, climbing, hang-gliding.’

  ‘They sound challenging.’ And dangerous.

  ‘I like the wind in my hair. The feeling of not being hemmed in.’

  Ella thought of his Sydney house. Set at the top of a cliff with a commanding view of the Pacific, it was as un-hemmed-in as you could get in such a metropolis.

  ‘What about you, Ella?’ He tilted up her chin so his words brushed her face. ‘What do you do to unwind?’

  Make love with a breathtakingly gorgeous, enigmatic tycoon.

  This fortnight there’d been no time for anything but work and Donato. If she wasn’t with him in the evening, he was flirting with her over the phone, his espresso-dark voice a constant reminder of what she missed by refusing to stay with him.

  But the need to keep part of her life private remained strong. Donato had stormed into her world like a cyclone flattening every defence. He dominated her thoughts and even her dreams.

  ‘How do I unwind? You’ll find out soon enough.’ Their weekend in the Blue Mountains west of the city was in two parts. Donato had suggested they spend half the time doing something he enjoyed and the other half was her choice.

  As if he wanted to share his private life with her, not just his bed. As
if he wanted to know more about her too. It was a beguiling idea. After two weeks of toe-curling orgasms and carefully light banter, this signalled a shift in their relationship.

  Ella had tried telling herself they didn’t have a relationship. They had sex. Stunning, all-eclipsing sex.

  And they had this farcical engagement. Her father insisted they were marrying and went ahead with preparations despite her protests. But it would take more than his demands to make her marry a man she didn’t love.

  Meanwhile she needed to help her siblings. Her father had misappropriated Rob’s inheritance from their grandfather, the money he needed to finish the resort’s refurbishment. Reg had promised to repay it when his business with Donato was sorted.

  Ella felt trapped, by her attraction to Donato and the situation with her father.

  She’d told Donato repeatedly there’d be no wedding. Every time he’d shrugged and said it would all work out.

  It was like a game, one where only he knew the rules. When she tried to press for a resolution he distracted her, usually with some outrageous provocation that led to verbal sparring and, most often, sex.

  Now he wrapped his arms around her and her heart gave a familiar leap. ‘Don’t I get a kiss for introducing you to abseiling?’

  She shook her head, teasing. ‘It was our guide who did the work, organising the equipment and—’

  ‘If you think you’re kissing anyone but me,’ Donato growled, a light in his eyes, ‘you’re sadly mistaken.’

  Instantly she was all quivering anticipation. That hint of possessiveness was too appealing.

  She wanted Donato. Not just his kisses but his attention, his time. Warning bells clanged.

  Ella needed to remind him, and herself, she was her own woman. He was so overwhelming it was a constant battle not to be swept up, simply giving in to him.

  She put a hand on Donato’s broad chest, pushing. ‘That’s for me to choose. You don’t own me, Donato. You haven’t bought me.’

  She’d anticipated a mock scowl, or that lethally slow smile that stirred all her senses.

  What she got was sudden stillness and a look that made the hairs on her nape stand on end. Not a look of anger. She couldn’t read his expression, but she knew he’d gone somewhere she didn’t want to be.

  His hold tightened, his fingers digging too hard. Then suddenly she was free. Donato stepped back, hands flexing. His chest rose as he sucked oxygen, like a swimmer too long underwater.

  ‘Donato? What is it?’ His stark expression made the blood curdle in her veins. Shivers ran down her arms and disquiet stirred.

  His eyes were fixed on the distance.

  ‘Donato?’

  His gaze swung down to her. She read turmoil and strong emotion. What was going on? One minute he was laughing and intimate. The next he’d totally withdrawn.

  ‘Of course.’ The last vestiges of tension vanished as she watched. He looked the same as ever, confident and in control. But Ella knew something had happened, as it had when he’d spoken of his past.

  What was he hiding? Everyone had secrets, but she sensed Donato’s cast very long shadows.

  Ella gripped his arms, needing the physical connection. Needing, if possible, to help. His taut biceps were hard as the rock they’d just traversed. She loved his strength. Being with Donato made her feel almost petite and dainty.

  Deliberately she stood on her toes and brushed her mouth against his. Instantly he responded with a slow, bone-melting thoroughness that made her wish their guide wasn’t waiting above.

  Finally Donato pulled back.

  ‘Come on, Ella. It’s time you learned how to climb back up.’ His lips curled in that devastating smile and she found herself smiling back.

  But she was silent as he busied himself with their gear. For his smile had been wrong. It hadn’t reached his eyes.

  Ella told herself that just because they were lovers didn’t give her the right to pry into things he obviously didn’t want to share. She too kept part of her life off-limits to Donato.

  Yet the need to understand him gnawed. She wanted to know so she could help. Because she never wanted to see that blank shadow on his face again.

  Was that the reaction of a short-term lover?

  Or was it the reaction of a woman sinking deep over her head?

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘RETAIL THERAPY!’ Donato groaned. ‘I knew it was a mistake to let you choose our activity for the day.’

  Yet it was a token protest. After spending a whole night with Ella, waking with her in his arms for the first time, it would take more than a little shopping to spoil his mood.

  Last night, after their day of climbing and abseiling, there’d been an intensity to her passion he couldn’t get enough of. Given their history of instant attraction and explosive loving, that was saying something.

  The sooner she moved in with him the better.

  Donato ignored the voice reminding him he’d never shared his home with any woman.

  This was different. Ella wasn’t a clinging vine, grasping for the material things he could provide.

  Hard to believe that she was Sanderson’s daughter. The more he knew her, the less like her father she was.

  ‘If you haven’t got the stamina for it, Donato, go back to the hotel.’ She flashed him a look of pure challenge.

  ‘Stamina?’ He stared down into those stunning eyes with mock indignation. ‘I defy you to find a man with more stamina.’

  For a moment Ella’s eyes looked more pewter than blue, just like when she lost herself in his arms. Instantly his heart beat faster.

  ‘We’ll see how you fare after a few hours hunting for lost treasure.’ Then she turned to bend over an ancient moth-eaten chair, dismissing him.

  Donato smiled. Perversely, he loved the fact Ella made a point of not kowtowing to him. For years, since his phenomenal burst of commercial success, people had fallen over themselves to agree with him. No one dismissed him.

  He liked that Ella treated him like an ordinary man. Neither a commercially astute businessman whose every pronouncement was gold, nor a sinister outsider to polite society who could never be completely trusted because of his murky past.

  And he liked knowing that no matter how pointedly she stood up to him, he just had to touch her and she went up in flames.

  ‘Treasure? Hunting through junk, don’t you mean?’

  She shrugged. ‘If you can’t cope I’ll see you later.’

  But Donato wasn’t going anywhere. He was fascinated, watching Ella’s assessing eye as she prowled the antiques centre. He’d developed an interest in antiques himself, drawn by the idea of a bygone world of grace and beauty that was everything his early life hadn’t been.

  Ella moved through the place, her sharp eyes spotting the same mantel clock he did. It belonged not in a dusty bric-a-brac emporium, but in a collector’s home. Then she paused by a tiny damaged table. He hadn’t noticed it. Now he realised how finely it was made. With restoration it would be beautiful.

  Ella had a good eye. It intrigued him to think they shared an interest in beautiful old things.

  But what kept him at her side, helping her shift a lumpy chair to get to an old trunk, was more than an interest in antiques. She almost hummed with happiness as she explored. Her enthusiasm drew him.

  She was appealing when she challenged him, standing so haughtily, refusing to cave in despite her father’s pushing. But when she was happy... Donato was surprised at the cliché that sprang to mind. But it was true. When Ella was happy she glowed.

  He wanted to bask in that radiance. Her lips curved in an excited smile as she ran her hands over the trunk. Donato wanted to be part of what made her happy. He wanted to make her smile.

  How long since he’d wanted to do that for anyone? />
  It was a relief to see her like this. Yesterday, with a few casual words, she’d unleashed a wave of bitter remembrance. More than that, she’d evoked guilt.

  You don’t own me.

  You haven’t bought me.

  Even now his blood iced at the words. At the implication he was stripping away her control of her own life by agreeing to this sham engagement.

  Did she really feel disempowered?

  Acid swirled in his belly and rose, filling his mouth.

  His fight wasn’t with Ella. It was with her father. He’d imagined Sanderson’s daughter would be as shallow and selfish as him, eager to triumph in the role of high-profile fiancée to a rich entrepreneur. Instead he’d found a woman whose idea of a good time was hunting for old wares.

  You haven’t bought me.

  Donato’s jaw clamped so hard pain radiated through his skull.

  He knew, exactly, what it meant to buy someone. To own someone.

  The words, so casual, so meaningless to most, were honed knives. They sliced into the darkness that was his past and his very essence. He felt the ice-hot slash, not to his face or his ribs this time, but to his heart. It heaved as the blackness of the past rose up.

  ‘Donato.’ A hand touched his and he looked down. Ella’s eyes met his. Stunned, he felt again that spark of connection he’d told himself he’d imagined. This time it was a welcome sizzle of heat, cracking the ice in his veins. ‘Come and look at this.’

  Did she know? Had she seen the murky shadows engulf him?

  Donato straightened. Of course she hadn’t. No one did. They were his to bear alone.

  ‘What have you found now? Jewellery?’ He forced a smile to his face and watched her blink. That was better. He preferred Ella distracted rather than questioning. ‘It has to be something glittery to make a woman so excited.’

  ‘Don’t pretend to be a sexist beast. We both know you’re not.’

  ‘Not sexist?’

  Their gazes locked and, extraordinarily, Donato felt as if her assessing gaze saw too much. ‘Not either.’

  Which showed how little Ella knew about him.

  Because of his prison record most women viewed him with trepidation, even if mingled with a good dollop of excitement. They fantasised about the bad boy, especially one who had wealth to smooth his way. If they knew the full details of his past they’d shun him. That had never mattered. He didn’t care about the approval of pampered society women.