by Heidi Rice
So polite. So distant. So businesslike. How could this be the same man who had plunged into me over and over again—as if he wanted to brand me as his?
‘I wanted to say goodbye before I left,’ I said. ‘I thought...’ The words jammed in my throat as he continued to look at me as if I were just another employee.
He closed his laptop and leaned back in his chair. ‘You thought what?’ he said, not unkindly, but the whisper of impatience in his tone destroyed me.
‘I thought... I didn’t think it would end like this.’
‘How did you think it would end?’ he said, confirming my worst fears—that this was it, that he had tired of me, that I had been discarded.
The man in front of me looked like Dante Allegri. He had the same striking bone structure, the same muscular physique. I could see the tattoo that looped around his shoulder peeking through the open collar of his shirt. I noticed the small scar on his top lip. But this wasn’t the man who had held me last night. Because that man had been arrogant, yes, and more than a little domineering, but he hadn’t been cruel.
‘I thought you would have told me...’ I said, trying to keep my voice firm, so as not to give away how devastated I was.
‘I was busy today, Edie,’ he said, and it occurred to me that he hadn’t once called me bella, not since last night. Not since the last time we had made love. ‘I simply didn’t have time.’
‘You didn’t have time to even speak to me?’ I said, incredulous now as well as devastated.
‘We did speak—I offered you a very lucrative contract and you accepted it, as I recall.’
‘Is it because of what I said about your mother? I know it was none of my business and I’m so sorry...’ I began realising I was begging after all when he held up his hand.
‘Of course not,’ he said. ‘If you’re going to make an emotional scene now though, I may have to reconsider my offer. I know you’re young and naïve but I got the impression you understood exactly where this was leading.’
The chill spread through me at the curt tone. He was talking to me as if I were a child.
‘But I...’
‘You came to me, Edie, if you recall. You made it clear you wanted me as a lover. If you now feel you gave away your virginity too cheaply, I’m afraid it’s too late to change your mind.’
I trembled, the blood exploding in my ears, the caustic, casual tone almost as agonising as the contempt on his face.
‘You... You knew?’ I gasped, shock warring with devastation.
He leaned forward. ‘Of course I knew. I’m not quite as inexperienced as you are.’
‘But you didn’t say anything?’ I said, still unable to grasp why he seemed angry about it.
‘Why would I? It was none of my concern,’ he said, but I could still hear it in his voice, that edge of steel, the accusation. And then the rest of his comment came back to me, hitting me in the solar plexus with the force of a sledgehammer.
If you now feel you gave away your virginity too cheaply.
And I realised what he was accusing me of. Of trying to trick him, to deceive him, to make him feel beholden to me, to barter my body for money. When I had never once put any demands on him. Even now all I’d asked for was a proper goodbye.
‘I didn’t expect anything in return,’ I said. ‘I gave myself to you freely. I wanted you to be my first.’ I tried to explain, the words tumbling over themselves, struggling to get out of my mouth in the face of his cynicism. ‘Why would you even think that?’ I asked, horrified anew at the accusation and the cool scepticism on his face.
‘All sex is a transaction,’ he said. ‘Of one form or another. Your mother knew it, and so did mine.’
‘That’s not true. My mother always loved the men she slept with...’ I said, my heart shattering in my chest. This wasn’t just scepticism; this was damage. How could he believe the things he was saying? What had happened to him that would make him so hard, so cold, so uncaring and so cynical? He’d said he didn’t hate his mother, but now I could see he’d lied.
‘How convenient then, that she only ever fell in love with rich men,’ he said, the mockery in his voice reminding me of all the times I had been teased or insulted, made to feel less than, an outcast, because of the way people judged my mother.
But this was so much worse.
Tears stung the backs of my eyes, tears I knew I couldn’t shed. I’d thought he’d understood. That he’d been on my side. But he was worse than any of them.
‘You bastard,’ I whispered, trying to locate the anger I should be feeling to cover the misery.
‘We’re both bastards, Edie. I thought we already established that.’
‘I’m not talking about the circumstances of your birth. You... You used me,’ I said, still not able to believe it.
‘We used each other. You amused me this week, and I gave you the chance to discover what a sensual person you are. Something that you’ve clearly been denying, or you wouldn’t have remained a virgin so long.’
I nodded. ‘Well, thanks for that,’ I said, trying to sound flippant, trying to wound him the way he’d wounded me. ‘I’ll be sure to use the lessons you taught me about how to pleasure a man when I take my next lover.’
His jaw tightened, his brows lowering in a thunderous frown as I turned and fled.
It wasn’t until I was sitting in the helicopter, the blades whirring, the sun dipping towards the horizon as the huge black machine lifted into the sky, that I finally let the tears fall. Tears of anguish, and grief. And humiliation at my own stupidity. But, most of all, tears of heartache—which only made the humiliation worse.
How could I ever have been young enough or naïve enough to be fooled by Dante Allegri—to have believed that, buried beneath the ambition and the ruthlessness, the magnetism and the overpowering sexuality and the horrors he had obviously suffered as a child, there lay a kindred spirit, a man who, despite everything, had a good heart?
I gulped down my sobs and scrubbed the tears off my cheeks, forcing my gaze away from the villa and towards the horizon.
I would survive and I would prosper. I would be the best employee he’d ever had. And I would be grateful for the important lesson he had taught me. A lesson I thought I had learned during the years of my childhood.
Never to fall in love with a man who valued money and power and ambition—for whatever reason—over love.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
‘IS THAT EDIE, talking to Alexi Galanti?’ I barked at Joe Donnelly who had greeted me at the entrance to The Inferno as I spotted Edie’s slim figure displayed in a wisp of blue silk standing beside the Formula One owner on the far corner of the casino floor.
Anxiety and anger sliced through my gut. I’d stayed away from Monaco for three weeks. Three long torturous weeks. As memories of Edie and what we’d shared tormented me daily.
Her face, determined and tense on our first night together, as she played poker. Her lips, trembling but eager, as I kissed her in the moonlight. Her breasts, full and yearning, in that excuse for a bikini. Her arms soft and secure as we danced together at the investors’ ball. Her eyes, the deep green sheened with tears, as I forced her to accept the reality of who I was and how little I could offer her.
Every one of those memories slammed into me now as I stared at her like a starving man. Memories that had turned my temper into gelignite, ready to explode at a moment’s notice. Memories that bombarded me every time I closed my eyes. Then woke me up, hard and aching and empty inside. Memories which were the real reason I’d arrived in Monaco unannounced. Because after three weeks of staying away, of trying and failing to forget about her, I hadn’t. And now this is what I found.
The woman I’d initiated, looking at another man the way she’d once looked at me.
‘Yeah, Edie’s hosting the Millionaire Club game tonight; Alexi’s playing.’ Joe’s
voice murmured beside me but I could barely hear it through the buzzing in my brain.
Why was she smiling at Alexi like that? Was there something between them? Why hadn’t I listened to my instincts and returned sooner? She was an innocent and I’d let her loose among a sea of sharks. My friend—or, rather, my former friend—being the most voracious and ruthless of the lot.
‘Nice to see you too, by the way,’ Joe said, curtly enough to distract me for a second. ‘We weren’t expecting to see you for another week.’
‘My plans changed,’ I said, turning back to stare at the woman who had haunted my dreams. Alexi was standing too damn close to her. I didn’t like it. Any more than I liked the low neckline on her dress. He could probably see right down to her navel in that thing.
Joe’s fingers clicked in my face. ‘Snap out of it, Dante.’
‘What?’ I forced my eyes away.
‘You’re staring at her as if you want to devour her in a few quick greedy bites.’
Because I do.
I wetted my lips, trying to deny the errant thought as blood surged heavily into my groin.
‘Alexi’s got no damn business hovering around her like that. She’s an employee here.’
‘I know that,’ Joe said, searching my face in a way I didn’t like. ‘But do you?’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘You know damn well what it means,’ he shot back, only increasing my irritation. Joe was a friend, probably my best friend. He’d been my wingman since we were little more than kids. But no one got to speak to me like that, not even him. Before I could point this out though, he cut me off.
‘You’ve been ringing me every day to check up on her. And now you’re here, when you’re supposed to be in Paris. What the hell is going on between you two, because I thought you broke up with her?’
‘Alexi’s flirting with my employee and I’m not supposed to be pissed about that?’ I said, raising my voice as my gaze locked on Edie again across the casino.
Damn, but I had missed her. The sight of her, the smell of her, the feel of her body curled around me in sleep. When was this longing going to end? Why couldn’t I get a handle on it? And why did seeing her again only make all the memories worse, not better, the way I’d hoped?
‘Alexi flirts with everyone,’ Joe said, raising his voice too. ‘It never bothered you before.’
We were starting to attract attention. But then Alexi lifted his finger to tuck a lock of hair behind Edie’s ear. And Edie smiled at him, that sweet smile that had only ever been meant for me.
Rage exploded inside me, the same rage I had kept so carefully at bay... Ever since Edie had thrown her parting words at me.
I’ll be sure to use the lessons you taught me about how to pleasure a man when I take my next lover.
Those words had tortured me every night since. But I’d stayed away, determined not to give in to the need, the jealousy, the longing.
Big mistake.
‘Bastardo!’ I shouted and several people turned towards me.
‘Dante, wait!’ Joe said, trying to grab my arm, I shook it off as I strode through the crowd.
This ended here and now. Edie needed to protect herself against guys like Alexi Galanti. She was too innocent and naïve—what the hell had I been thinking, giving her a job that would expose her to bastards like him? And then left her alone. She needed my protection, now more than ever. Even if we weren’t together, I had a responsibility to keep her safe.
As I approached, Edie’s head swung round as if she had sensed my approach. The deep emerald gaze which had always captivated me locked with mine. My stride faltered, the jolt of awareness hitting me like a bolt of lightning as our eyes met.
‘Dante?’ Her lips slicked with gloss whispered my name—and I heard it in my soul.
‘Galanti, you’re banned,’ I snarled at Alexi without taking my gaze off Edie.
I shoved him aside, grasped Edie’s arm and carried on walking, marching her towards the security booth at the back of the casino. Her skin felt so soft, so fragile beneath my fingertips. Her biceps tensed and I loosened my fingers, scared to hurt her, but kept my grip firm, knowing I never wanted to let her go.
Alexi shouted something after us—mocking or annoyed—I couldn’t tell because of the blood rushing in my ears. But I didn’t care because all I could see was Edie, and all I could feel was the surge of heat shooting up my arm and the rage threatening to blow the top of my head off.
‘Why are you here?’ she said, confused, wary, wounded, but she didn’t resist me as I dragged her into the booth. ‘Have I done something wrong?’
‘We need to talk,’ I said, struggling to keep my voice firm and even. ‘Everyone out,’ I shouted at the three guys in the booth.
The security personnel scurried out, leaving us alone as I forced myself to release her arm and kicked the door shut. The blue light from the monitors illuminated her face. How could I have forgotten how exquisite she was? With her hair gathered in some kind of up-do, the tendrils caressed her neck. Her full breasts rose and fell in staggered rhythm against the revealing bodice of that excuse for a gown. The desire to bury my face against her neck and breathe in her fresh, sultry scent, to lick her collarbone and gather her taste on my tongue, to tear off her gown so I could free those ripe orbs, capture her nipples in my teeth and...
Focus, Dante. Dio!
I shook my head, trying to clear the erotic fog that descended whenever I was near her. I wasn’t here to slake my own hunger. I was here to protect her from guys like Alexi Galanti... And myself.
‘Are you sleeping with him?’ I asked, the words coming out on a hoarse rasp of breath as a sense of loss and injustice wrapped around my heart. I’d given her up to save her from me. And she’d immediately been seduced by a man who was just as jaded and cynical as I was. If not more so.
I should have come to check up on her in person a lot sooner. I’d given her this position to keep her safe, to keep her secure, to keep an eye on her. And then I’d stayed away from her. What a damn fool I’d been.
But I was here now, and I wasn’t leaving again until she understood I would do whatever I had to do to protect her. Even if it meant protecting her from her own naiveté.
‘Because he’s not worthy of you, bella,’ I added. ‘Any more than I am.’
She was staring at me, her face flaming with the delectable blush which marked out her innocence. She might think she was experienced, worldly, because of what we’d shared, but she wasn’t. She was far too gullible, too innocent, too idealistic to ever understand the way men’s minds worked.
‘Answer me, bella,’ I said, steeling myself against her answer as I cupped her cheek. She jerked away from my touch and the knife twisted in my gut. ‘Are you sleeping with Alexi?’
CHAPTER NINETEEN
‘WHY DO YOU want to know that?’ I whispered at the man in front of me as emotions I’d struggled to keep in check for weeks threatened to destroy me all over again.
The giddy rush of love I still couldn’t control had risen up as soon as I’d spotted him striding towards me—even in black jeans and a dark polo shirt he had looked indomitable, overwhelming, as the casino patrons in tuxedos and evening gowns scattered to let him pass—but right behind that rush of love had been the shattering pain he’d caused.
I clasped my arms around my waist, trying to hold in the violent trembling as conflicting emotions swelled and surged inside me. Shock, panic, confusion, desire, love, longing, but most of all the deep, dark well of hurt that had dogged me ever since the last time I’d seen him.
I stared at him now, trying to understand. But he looked like a madman—his breathing ragged, his chest heaving, his eyes wild with something I didn’t understand.
And while a million questions swirled in my head, about what he was doing here, why he was behaving like this and wh
at any of it had to do with Mr Galanti, the only one I could grasp was one I had asked myself a thousand times since the last time I’d seen him.
How could he look at me with such longing when he had discarded me so easily? It had taken me three weeks to convince myself it hadn’t been my fault. I shouldn’t have spoken to him about his mother, I could see that, but I hadn’t meant to upset him. Maybe what I’d said had been misguided, inappropriate, but it had come from a place of love.
‘I need to know if Alexi has seduced you?’ he said, his voice surprisingly firm for someone who appeared to be talking in tongues. ‘Because if he has I’m going to kill him.’
‘Stop it,’ I hissed, my lungs tight with all those conflicting emotions now. ‘Stop asking me about Mr Galanti—are you mad?’
‘Mr Galanti? Not Alexi. Grazie a Dio.’ He let out a relieved chuckle, the self-satisfied slash of white in his tanned face making him look like a marauding pirate to my confused mind. ‘So you haven’t slept with him.’
His blue eyes lit with determination and danger as he lifted his hand and touched his thumb to the rampaging pulse in my collarbone.
‘This is good news, bella. I am proud of you.’
The tidal wave of longing hit me hard, spreading heat throughout my body. The desire to lean in to the caress, to accept his praise, his protection, almost more than I could bear. Hadn’t I dreamt about this happening every night since I’d left La Villa Paradis? That he would come back, that he would claim me, that he would tell me he still cared about me, that one day he might take me back. That he hadn’t meant to destroy me the way he had.
But what hit me harder was the tidal wave of fury. The fury I’d tried so hard to locate three weeks ago when he’d dumped me—because his behaviour then hadn’t been a mistake. It had been callous and deliberate and unnecessarily brutal.
Fury spread through my body like wildfire, torching everything in its wake—the yearning, the confusion, the anguish, the hollow empty loneliness, the weeks of soul-searching and recriminations—until all that was left was the burning desire to hurt him the way he’d hurt me.
