Blackmailed Bride, Inexperienced Wife Read online

  His voice was a husky burr that melted her insides. The knowing look in his eyes and the promise of pleasure sent heat flaring along her cheeks.

  Alissa put her hand in his, enjoying the touch of his fingers, firm and familiar. ‘Let’s go home.’

  A gleam darkened his eyes, then his face smoothed into the unreadable mask he wore so often. ‘I hoped you’d say that.’

  Fifteen minutes later they sped along a winding road with spectacular views of the coast. The Lamborghini’s engine growled as Dario manoeuvred the car expertly round a bend.

  With his jacket slung across the back seat, his sleeves rolled up and pleasure curving his lips, Dario looked sexier than ever. Almost carefree.

  How rare that was. Usually he was busy, driven by business responsibilities and other cares he didn’t share with anyone. He was so self-contained.

  ‘What is it?’ He didn’t take his eyes from the road but he knew she watched him. Just as she could tell when he entered a room by the tingle of awareness at her nape.

  She shook her head. ‘Nothing.’

  Dario swung the car round another curve and they swooped down to the coast. The Castello Parisi loomed on its promontory, a reminder that they’d soon be home.

  Home for the next couple of months, Alissa reminded herself with a twist of regret. Not once had Dario hinted he wanted her to stay beyond their six months. Ruthlessly she squashed her hurt.

  ‘More than nothing. You’ve been watching me since we left. What’s on your mind?’

  She hesitated, then decided to take the plunge. ‘Tell me about Signor Cipriani.’

  Dario’s hands tightened on the wheel, his shoulders hunched so slightly she might have imagined it. The speedometer flicked to the right as they sped faster.

  ‘What do you want to know?’ he said finally as he swung the car off the road into a narrow lane running straight for the sea.

  ‘I’ve heard things. And I wondered—’

  ‘Whether it’s true he killed himself because of me?’ There was no inflection in his voice but the carefree aura had disappeared. Regret swamped her as she took in his white-knuckled grip and the taut angle of his chin.

  Did she really want to know? Wasn’t it more comfortable not knowing?

  ‘No. I…’

  ‘Of course you do.’ His voice was flat as he pulled up. He switched off the ignition and the sound of waves invaded the still interior of the car. ‘Come. Let’s walk.’

  It was only when they got out that Alissa realised they were on Dario’s private property towards the end of the beach nearest the castello.

  He held her hand as they picked their way down the path to the beach. His grip was impersonal. Gone was the closeness they’d shared today. Had she imagined that?

  She blinked back hot tears. She didn’t know where she was with him. She only knew she wasn’t ready to leave him.

  When they reached the firm-packed sand he let go and stooped to remove his shoes. Silently she followed suit.

  ‘It’s true,’ he said in a sombre voice as they walked down the beach. ‘He died because of me.’

  ‘No!’ She grabbed his hand, curling her fingers round his. Instinctively she knew he wasn’t to blame. Her heart thudded in distress till finally he returned her grip.

  Relief bubbled up. The fact that he’d accepted her touch and he held her tight made something soar inside. Warning bells jangled. She was in so deep. She cared for Dario too much.

  ‘How can you know it wasn’t my fault?’ His gaze held hers in the gathering darkness.

  ‘I just do.’

  There was no sound but the shush of waves as he stared down at her. A breeze played in his hair, but Dario didn’t move a muscle. After endless minutes he turned and led the way further down the beach.

  ‘Guido Cipriani had something I wanted—a business started by my family. It was the last asset my parents kept before Mangano, your grandfather, ruined them.’

  Dario picked up his pace till they strode. ‘He deliberately destroyed them. It took years of bribery and corruption, plus some unfortunate investments and a downturn in the markets. His hatred of us was blood-deep.’

  ‘I know.’ She remembered his gloating pleasure in triumphing over the Parisis.

  Dario sent her a swift sideways look but kept walking.

  ‘I determined to get the company back. I’ve made it my life’s work to recoup all the assets the Parisis owned.’

  Alissa shivered as the square battlements of the castello loomed ahead. In the fading light it had a threatening air. She’d bartered her freedom so Dario could obtain that medieval symbol of power and family pride.

  ‘You’re cold.’ He tugged her close. ‘We should go back. The temperature is dropping.’

  ‘No. I’m OK.’ She needed to understand this to understand Dario. ‘What did you do?’

  ‘I offered to buy but he wouldn’t sell. He’d put in decent managers who’d kept it profitable but eventually even they couldn’t keep it in the black.’

  ‘Why not, if it was profitable?’

  ‘Cipriani was a gambling addict. He wasn’t just siphoning off profits, he stole from the business to pay debts to people who…enforced payment.’

  Alissa shivered, imagining who those people were. ‘What happened?’

  Dario’s arm tightened and she leaned into his solid warmth. ‘When the time was right I offered again.’

  ‘Bianca said you offered less than its value.’

  ‘Much she’d know,’ he said under his breath. ‘All Bianca Cipriani knew was the business supported her luxury lifestyle. She’s typical of her set. Never had to sully her hands with honest toil. When the cash dried up she looked for someone to blame.’

  Dario stared at the castello rising above them. ‘Cipriani had no choice. It was sell to me or let the authorities uncover his theft.’ Dario smoothed a hand back through his hair, a gesture she’d never seen him use. ‘He signed the deal then went and shot himself. He couldn’t face the loss of honour, no longer able to support his family.’

  Dario’s profile was grim, flesh pulled taut over bone. The sight of his pain made her chest ache.

  ‘That wasn’t your fault.’

  ‘Wasn’t it? If I hadn’t badgered him to sell, if I hadn’t been there ready to jump in—’

  ‘Someone else would have.’ She touched his arm. ‘Did you lure him into his gambling debts?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Or use underhand tactics to ruin him?’

  Dario drew himself up. ‘No! I’m a Parisi, not a…’

  Not a Mangano, that was what he’d been going to say.

  ‘If you didn’t ruin him, how can you blame yourself?’ For Dario did blame himself, it was there in his grim face.

  He shook his head. ‘I should have seen it coming and prevented it. His wife…’

  Alissa heard the tightly controlled emotion in his voice and pressed closer. He wrapped his arms about her and she was surrounded by his spicy scent and heat. His heart pounded near her ear.

  ‘I don’t understand. If your funds just covered his debts, where does Bianca get money? She doesn’t look short of cash.’

  Dario’s hand palmed her hair. ‘Of course I topped up the sale price to ensure his wife was provided for. Her husband was dead. She had no one else. It seems she’s foolish enough to let Bianca squander it.’

  ‘Of course.’ Alissa stifled a shocked giggle. There was no ‘of course’ about it. Judging by the couture cut of Bianca’s outfit and her lavish jewellery, Dario’s idea of ‘topping up’ the sale price had been absurdly generous.

  Was there anything more ridiculous, more utterly unfathomable, than this man’s code of honour? To blame himself for a death that wasn’t his fault, then make amends in the most generous way? He had such an inflated sense of responsibility.

  Alissa stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his lips.

  ‘What’s that for?’ he growled as if taken by surprise.

  She
shook her head, not ready to examine her reaction. ‘Come and sit out of the wind.’ Alissa led the way to the sheltered rear of the beach. She had too much on her mind to go back yet.

  After a moment he sat beside her, his legs stretched out on the sand, his arms propped behind him.

  For a long time they were silent. Finally, encouraged by the gathering dusk and Dario’s earlier revelation, she asked the question that had been on her mind so long. This seemed her best chance to understand.

  ‘Dario, why is it so important you get back everything the Parisis owned?’

  ‘It’s my birthright, my obligation to my family,’ he shot back without pause. ‘What man wouldn’t wish to restore his family’s fortunes?’

  ‘Surely your wealth is more than your family ever owned.’ She knew he had controlling interests in ventures right across Europe and North America.

  ‘I promised to restore what was ours,’ he said in a tone that made her slip him a sideways glance. His profile was hard and sharp as volcanic glass. ‘I won’t stop till I’ve done it. It’s a matter of honour. Of duty. The rest is a bonus.’ He flicked his fingers as if the millions, or perhaps billions, he owned were a mere bagatelle.

  ‘Promised whom?’ His family? Had he really no one of his own? Despite the affection in which he was held locally, he was the most alone person she’d met. Totally, frighteningly self-possessed, except for the rare occasions he let down his guard with her.

  The waves rolled in and ebbed back again and again. When he didn’t answer, her throat closed.

  It didn’t matter that he wouldn’t confide in her. After all, she wasn’t his real wife. She was a temporary bed partner. Resolutely she blinked moisture from her eyes and planted her palms on the sand, ready to rise.

  Long fingers encircled her wrist. ‘My father. I promised him before he died.’ Despite the clipped words, his voice was resonant with deep emotion.

  ‘I’m sorry, Dario. I take it he died before you approached my grandfather about the castello?’

  Even in the gloom his scrutiny was so intense it was like a touch. ‘He didn’t tell you?’

  ‘I know nothing about your family except Gianfranco hated them because a Parisi jilted his sister.’

  Slowly Dario nodded then turned to watch the waves. His free arm lifted and a pebble arced into the water.

  ‘It happened when I was seven.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she repeated inadequately.

  ‘My father was determined to recoup his losses. Some of them, like the castello, had been in our family for generations. Generations of proud tradition, plus blood, sweat and hard work.’ Not by the slightest inflection did he give a hint of emotion. It was as if he recited a rehearsed piece. Yet his bunched muscles and the tendons straining at his neck told another truth. He lobbed another pebble into the water, the movement one of perfect grace and restrained savagery.

  Alissa shivered as a chill wind brushed her skin.

  ‘He’d take me on his knee and tell me about family traditions built over centuries. About our history and our obligations to the land and our people.’ His lips curved but it wasn’t a smile. ‘He planned to regain it all. The lost family honour as well as the assets. To rebuild the Parisi name till it commanded the respect it once had.’

  Dario’s voice held a note that filled her with foreboding. Another stone splashed in the shallows. ‘There was an opportunity to start again, a venture in northern Italy. If it worked he’d have enough to return to Sicily and start again.’

  ‘But it didn’t happen.’ Alissa’s heart was in her mouth, anticipating the tragedy she knew must come.

  ‘No.’ He drew in a breath so deep his chest expanded mightily. ‘There was a storm. The ferry was overcrowded. The authorities said later there should never have been so many people aboard.’

  Alissa slipped her fingers from his loosened grip and covered his hand. It fisted, rock-hard in the sand.

  ‘There wasn’t enough room in the lifeboats. Papa wouldn’t let me stay with him. He said it was my duty to go. He made me promise…’

  For the first time she detected a tremor in Dario’s deep voice. She leaned in, resting her head on his shoulder, hoping to bring some small comfort. Her heart plunged at the picture his words conjured: father and son ripped apart in the mayhem of a sinking vessel. She should never have asked about this.

  ‘He demanded you carry on his plans if he couldn’t?’ It made a horrible sort of sense. Dario had been a kid when he’d shouldered this burden. No wonder he was so driven, so implacable in his quest.

  ‘No, I offered that freely. As his son it was my duty to restore the family honour.’

  When he spoke of honour she heard an echo of her grandfather and his obsession with righting past wrongs. But now she understood the difference between Dario and the old man. Dario’s pride wasn’t rooted in hate but in love. Love for his family and a deep-seated sense of duty.

  ‘He made me promise to look after the others.’ Dario’s voice was so low she barely heard him.

  ‘Others?’ His body stilled as if he stopped breathing. Fear clamped her chest.

  ‘My little brother, Rocco, and my mother. It was late in her pregnancy and she wasn’t feeling well.’

  The words echoed into a silence so profound Alissa couldn’t even hear the sea. Only the sound of his words thudding like bullets into her flesh.

  ‘And they…did they…?’

  ‘The lifeboat was overcrowded,’ he said once more in a colour-less voice that froze her blood. ‘It capsized in the rough seas. I held on to Rocco as long as I could. But I couldn’t save him.’

  ‘It wasn’t your fault.’ The words were automatic as she struggled to comprehend the enormity of his loss. How had he coped with such an appalling tragedy?

  ‘I should have been able to save one of them. Just one.’ His voice thickened and he drew another mighty breath. ‘Their bodies were never recovered.’

  Alissa turned blindly and wrapped her arms tight round him as if she’d never let go. It didn’t matter that he was big and strong and stoic. She’d heard the pain in his voice. Her heart broke at the thought of that little boy losing everyone who loved him. Believing it was his fault.

  How could his father have put that responsibility on him? It wasn’t fair. Then she remembered Dario saying he hadn’t wanted to leave his father. She’d guess even at seven Dario had seen himself as a man, willing to stay like his father and take his chances on the sinking ferry. Perhaps the promise to care for his mother and brother had been the only way to get him onto the lifeboat.

  Her silent tears soaked the fabric of his shirt as she hugged him close. His body was rigid.

  ‘Where did you go…afterwards?’ Her words were choked.

  ‘An orphanage on the mainland. I lived there till I was old enough to strike out on my own.’

  Alissa sucked in her breath, her mind reeling. Never had she suspected anything like this. She’d assumed Dario had grown up with privilege if not with the money he’d accused her grandfather of stealing. Dario had such an unconscious air of command she’d figured he’d honed it through years of haughty condescension.

  Yet he’d grown up alone, without anyone of his own to love. How wrong she’d been.

  ‘And then?’ She had to know the rest.

  ‘I returned to Sicily. I began as a labourer but discovered I had a talent for business. After a few years I was working for myself, employing others. I brought Caterina over. She’d been house mother at the orphanage and promised to be my housekeeper when I set up my own home.’

  Alissa felt a flash of relief as the grimness of his tone abated a fraction.

  No wonder he’d kept the truth of their marriage from Caterina. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her, the one person he cared for. He hadn’t wanted her to know he’d married in order to wrest back his family’s past glory.

  And no wonder he hated the Manganos.

  ‘You blame my grandfather.’ Her tone was flat.

 
‘If he hadn’t swindled my family we’d never have been on that ferry,’ he growled with awful simplicity. ‘He didn’t just steal the castello and the money, he stole my family, the life we should have had together. Of course I blame him.’

  Now so much made sense. Dario’s accusation that she didn’t deserve the advantages she’d had at his family’s expense. He’d thought her a privileged bimbo like Bianca Cipriani. That she’d had family, wealth and security when he’d had none. Gianfranco had stolen his future, his very family.

  Even as she dragged his stiff form close and rose on her knees to cradle his head against her breast, Alissa knew the comfort she offered could only be transient. He might find ease, release, even pleasure, with her. But in his mind her grandfather’s sins would always taint her.

  These past weeks, despite the warmth and pleasure they’d found together, there’d still been unspoken barriers between them. Now she knew why. Dario would never look at her without remembering.

  The hopes she’d secretly cherished splintered like fragile spun glass. There could never be a future for her with Dario.

  He pulled her to him and something melted inside.

  It was the worst possible time to realise she loved him.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ‘SHE can’t come to the phone, Donna. She’s still asleep.’ A smile tugged Dario’s mouth as he thought of Alissa, sated and exhausted after a long night of loving.

  Last night he’d bared his soul to her. He didn’t understand what had prompted him. But for the first time ever he’d known an overwhelming urge to share himself.

  It had felt right.

  She’d stripped him to the bone, scoured away everything till he’d been exposed and naked, more vulnerable than he’d felt since he was seven and they’d told him he’d lost everyone.

  Now he felt renewed, reborn, with a strength and wholeness that made his blood sizzle. Alissa had done that for him.

  They’d made love on the beach with a desperate ardour that barely slaked his need. He’d been insatiable, for her touch, her body, and more, that sense of completeness only she gave him.