Blackmailed Bride, Inexperienced Wife Read online

  Which left him furious and frustrated. He never gave in to weakness, no matter what the provocation.

  A gurgle of laughter interrupted his thoughts.

  Dario shoved his chair back from the desk.

  Alissa’s smile faded as a frisson of awareness crept up her spine. It didn’t take Giorgio’s wide-eyed look or the sound of footsteps on the path behind her to let her know Dario was approaching.

  That telltale tingle was enough. It never failed.

  Time and again she’d felt that delicious shiver and found him watching. Usually he turned and left without a word and each time her gaze followed hungrily. She couldn’t help it. There was something about Dario. Something she’d never experienced with any man. Something dark and strong and irresistible. She fought it with her mind but her body hadn’t got the message. He was dangerous. Yet something stirred inside whenever he came near.

  Even concern for Donna couldn’t prevent Alissa’s alarming reaction, especially since her worries had been allayed a little by regular phone calls and by knowing she’d get the money her sister needed.

  With a smile for Giorgio she turned down the path to the sea. She’d reached the shade cast by a stand of pines when Dario’s voice stopped her.

  ‘Running away, Alissa?’

  She froze, her hand on the railing at the top of the steps to the beach. He was close, his voice soft in her ears. Her body tensed in awful anticipation. She hated that he could do this to her. She avoided him when she could but her reaction to him had only intensified, like a blade honed keen to razor-sharpness.

  ‘Why should I run? I haven’t done anything wrong.’

  She turned, grateful for the railing as her knees threatened to buckle. She’d grown accustomed to him in tailored suits that emphasised his suave leanness and complemented the strong contours of his face. But in jeans that hugged long, powerful thighs and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled to reveal sinewy, golden forearms, he was devastating.

  Despair threatened. The craving grew stronger each time she saw him. She should hate him, and yet…

  ‘Why indeed?’ He frowned as he paced closer. ‘Feeling guilty at being caught flirting with my gardener?’

  ‘Flirting?’ Alissa’s eyes widened. ‘All we did was chat! He was telling me about his daughters.’

  She liked Dario’s staff. She enjoyed their hospitality in introducing a newcomer to Sicily. What surprised her was their enthusiasm for Dario. Their loyalty and admiration went beyond lip-service. They genuinely liked and respected him. Just as Caterina Bruzzone’s affection had been real. There’d been tears of happiness in the old lady’s eyes as she wished them well when she left for her home on the mainland the day after Alissa’s arrival.

  The locals Alissa met were pleased when they discovered she was from the Parisi estate. Her husband was respected. People spoke of his generosity, his support for charities and his schemes to rejuvenate the region.

  It was as if there were two different men—the chilling manipulator who’d turned her life upside down and the generous man, admired by all. The dichotomy only increased her wariness and confusion.

  Did something in her bring out the worst in him? Whenever he drew near every instinct warned of peril. Yet even that couldn’t douse the thrill she felt deep within when they were together.

  ‘If you say so. I’m sure you found the subject fascinating.’ Dario’s eyes were dark as storm clouds as they raked her. She wished she’d worn something other than a short denim skirt and singlet top. Something more substantial so she couldn’t feel his gaze on her. Armour perhaps. She clung to the railing, tilting her head to meet his stare, ignoring the way her nipples tightened. Hoping he hadn’t noticed.

  He stepped near and automatically she paced back, only to find her foot dangling in mid-air.

  ‘Careful!’ Strong hands encircled her arms and pulled her close. A shaft of heat scorched her as she inhaled the unique scent that was Dario. A second later he moved away to stand looking out to sea, as if the sight of her pained him. As if touching her contaminated him. Her heart squeezed in indignation and distress.

  ‘You don’t want to fall and break your leg. That would impair your activities.’ His tone was sardonic.

  ‘Activities?’ Was he still worried she yearned for a wild nightlife with good-looking guys and designer drugs? Stupid how the idea hurt.

  ‘Your swimming and sightseeing.’

  ‘I see.’ She stared at his grim profile. So her ‘chauffeurs’ had reported her movements. She’d suspected it but the confirmation disappointed her. He didn’t trust her an inch. She felt hemmed in, restrictions binding her tight. She was in limbo, unable to get on with her life, forced to live here on sufferance. Try as she might she couldn’t pretend this was a holiday.

  ‘What do you want, Dario?’ Steadfastly she ignored the tiny thrill that came from saying his name.

  ‘Must I want something?’ He slanted a look her way. The banked heat in his gaze stoked unwilling need deep inside her.

  ‘Yes. You spend most of your time avoiding me like the plague.’

  ‘Does that disappoint you, Alissa?’ The devil was in his eyes and in that slow, provocative curl of his sensuous lips. She shivered, imagining she saw an answering flare of sexual interest in his expression. ‘Would you rather I danced attendance on you?’

  ‘I couldn’t think of anything worse.’ She crossed her arms tight over her chest, telling herself it was only half a lie. The thought of being with him filled her with excitement as well as trepidation. That worried her sick. If only she could detest him as thoroughly as she ought.

  ‘As it happens I do have a reason for interrupting your morning—to tell you we’re invited to a business reception. I assume you have something formal to wear.’ His gaze skated down her bare legs as if the sight annoyed him.

  ‘Do I have to go?’ Just ten minutes in his company unnerved her. How would she survive an evening? The air zapped and crackled with the energy pulsing between them. Yet, she hated to admit it, she’d never felt more alive than when she sparred with him. It was scary.

  ‘I told you we’d need to be seen together. If we don’t go the curiosity of the Press will mean no more pleasant outings for you. We give them some pictures and we satisfy local interest. It will only take a few hours.’ His eyes narrowed as if he read her turmoil. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll look after you.’

  Alissa couldn’t think of anything calculated to disturb her more.

  ‘What sort of clothes?’ she said quickly. ‘I haven’t got a cocktail dress.’ Her wardrobe wasn’t extensive.

  His brows climbed. ‘I’ll have one of my staff drive you to a suitable boutique. Aim for classy rather than provocative if you can.’ Again his gaze dipped disapprovingly.

  ‘Since you ask so nicely, I’ll try.’ Saccharine dripped from her tongue. She had a good mind to buy something outrageous to provoke him. But the thought of his gaze on exposed flesh deterred her.

  ‘You do that.’ He stared across the bay, obviously dismissing her. She’d turned to leave when his deep voice stopped her.

  ‘You haven’t been out to inspect the castello you’ll inherit. Why?’

  She swung round, her gaze following his to the grim, squarish castle of sand-coloured stone climbing up from the rocky headland at the end of the beach. It was forbidding with its turrets and crenellated walls.

  ‘That’s the castello?’ It hadn’t occurred to her. She’d expected something less mediaeval. Not a real castle. That explained Dario’s autocratic attitude. If the place had been in Parisi hands for generations his family was local aristocracy. He’d be used to deference and immediate compliance with his wishes. No wonder she made him scowl when she refused to acquiesce to his every whim.

  ‘That’s the Castello Parisi. Home of my family’ His voice was rich with possessiveness and pride. Alissa watched his face set in determined lines.

  But what fascinated her was the glimpse of raw emotion in his expression. His
eyes held a yearning look she’d never noticed before. It surprised her. It made him appear almost…vulnerable.

  Dario really had a passion for the place. This was deeply personal to him. It wasn’t just about acquiring real estate. What did the castello mean to him?

  From the look on Dario’s face his determination was about far more than besting the Manganos. She couldn’t imagine any property being so important she’d sell herself in marriage to acquire it.

  Nothing was that important to her. Nothing except her family.

  Alissa flicked a look at the modern masterpiece that was his current home. Despite its unusual style it was homey and comfortable by comparison.

  ‘You don’t mind living so close? Overlooking what your family once owned?’

  ‘Mind?’ He gave the villa a cursory glance. ‘I built here so I could see my birthright every day till I possessed it.’ There was a chilling hint of obsession in his voice.

  ‘I suppose you spent time there as a child.’ He’d have happy memories of it. Though the castello had belonged to her grandfather he’d left it empty—the perfect place for an adventurous boy to explore. The idea lessened the unnerving impact of Dario’s absorbed stare.

  Dario shook his head. ‘I’ve never set foot inside, nor will I till it’s mine.’

  ‘But surely you lived somewhere close and—’

  He swung round and his eyes, gleaming grey like the barrel of a gun, pinioned her. ‘Didn’t your grandfather tell you?’ He paused as if waiting for her to respond. The intensity of his stare grazed her skin.

  ‘No, I can see he didn’t.’ His brow puckered as he met her confused gaze. ‘Strange. I thought he’d revel in the story.’ Dario shrugged, turning towards the sea and the distant mainland. His broad shoulders hunched as if against a chill wind only he could feel.

  Something about his stance made Alissa want to reach out to him, despite the danger he embodied. He looked so solitary. Like a man in pain. Even his skin seemed taut, stretched across the angles of his face.

  ‘I didn’t grow up here.’ He hefted a deep breath then another. His broad chest rose and fell but the tension in his corded muscles didn’t slacken. She felt its echo in her own rigid limbs. ‘I grew up over there, on the mainland.’

  ‘Your family left Sicily?’ That had never occurred to her. She knew Sicilians lived close to their roots, with generations staying in the same village. Her grandfather had only left because his nefarious practices made it too hot for him to stay. ‘They haven’t returned with you?’

  ‘My family?’ Dario’s mouth twisted in a grimace that tugged at something inside her. ‘I have no family. Not any more.’ He flung out an arm towards the brooding castle. ‘That is all I have left of my family.’

  Alissa opened her mouth to question him, but didn’t get the chance as he swung round to face her. His eyes flashed with possessive fire.

  ‘The castello belongs to me by birth, by right, by tradition.’ His eyes narrowed and her pulse thundered as his hot gaze raked her. ‘Now it’s mine by marriage too.’

  For a moment grey eyes meshed with blue, tension spiked between them like an arc of high-voltage energy. The air sizzled and her heart pounded.

  Was he claiming the castello or her as well?

  With a raw gasp Alissa spun round and stumbled up the path, uncaring what he thought of her sudden flight. He frightened her. He had the driven look of a man who didn’t mind what rules he broke as long as he won. The sort of man she’d learned to fear and despise.

  Yet there was something else in his eyes, some strong emotion that squeezed her chest tight just at the tiny glimpse of his passion. Was it pain? Grief? Regret?

  She shook her head. Why go to such lengths to acquire a place he’d never set foot in? This wasn’t about mere avarice, she understood that much at least. This was about something more fundamental.

  What had he meant, that the castello was all he had of his family? Surely he exaggerated. She couldn’t imagine a Sicilian with no family. More, she felt a dull ache of distress at the idea of anyone deprived of family. Her grandfather had been appalling but her sister meant everything to her.

  Alissa catapulted to a stop just inside the house, her mind reeling. Trepidation shivered through her as she remembered Dario’s steamy, proprietorial look. The look that curled her toes and stopped her breath.

  She had an unnerving premonition her peaceful stay, safe from his attention, was going to end in calamity.

  Alissa scooped the plastic bucket through wet sand and plonked it on the lopsided sandcastle. Giorgio’s little girls, Anna and Maria, crowed with delight when she lifted the bucket, leaving a perfect round turret. The toddlers clambered close, their hands full of shiny pebbles and shells, ready to decorate it.

  ‘Careful!’ Alissa grabbed one of the twins as she wobbled and lost her footing. ‘There you are, sweetheart.’ She sat Anna before her so she could reach the tower.

  Their chortles made her smile, especially when Maria turned and draped strands of seaweed over Alissa’s hair.

  ‘A mermaid, am I?’

  ‘With that hair there’s no doubt about it.’ The deep voice rumbled out of nowhere, dragging her round to face the sea. Her breath slid out and for a moment she forgot to breathe.

  ‘Dar-yo, Dar-yo.’ The twins erupted into movement, wriggling to their feet with an urgency that spelled ruin for their sandcastle.

  His stride was fluid. She watched the bunch and release of muscles in his chest, abdomen and long legs as he cleared the waves. He wore low-slung swim shorts that revealed the perfect interplay of sinew and muscle. Each tiny movement mesmerised her, as if she’d never seen a man before.

  She’d never seen one like Dario.

  From his water-slick coal-black hair to the perfection of his body and the grin he directed at the girls hurtling towards him, he was breathtaking. The glint of water on his flesh gilded him in the early-morning light. He looked like a sea god, powerful and potent. Alissa’s insides contracted in shivery delight just watching him.

  Then he was on his knees, arms outstretched to the girls. ‘You’ll get wet,’ he warned, but they catapulted into his arms, babbling in excitement.

  Alissa sat back on her heels, stunned, as she absorbed the sight of Dario, who’d manipulated her so remorselessly, laughing with the children. Obviously they knew him well. He understood their lisping baby talk far better than she.

  She blinked, remembering his ice-cold enmity in Melbourne, the contemptuous tone as he’d spoken of her family. She’d never have believed him capable of such unfettered joy or such patience as she saw now as the girls draped him with seaweed and shells.

  ‘You must be a merman too,’ she whispered, unthinking.

  Instantly dark grey eyes met hers and heat throbbed between them, blocking out the sound of the girls’ chatter. The world around her eclipsed into a void as the connection between them intensified. He hadn’t done anything but look at her, yet his potent attraction tugged at her.

  Abruptly Alissa turned away and her tension eased a fraction. She stumbled to her feet, brushing sand away.

  ‘You’re not going swimming, are you? There are strong currents.’ His voice, with its husky edge, made her pause, but she didn’t meet his eyes.

  ‘No. I’ve just learned to wear a swimsuit when I’m here with the girls. I end up getting wet and sandy.’

  Yet it wasn’t the fine grit that bothered her now, it was the sensation of his eyes roving over her body in her violet Lycra one-piece. The swimsuit covered everything that ought to be covered but it fitted like a second skin. Flames licked her body as his intense gaze scorched her.

  She shook her hair so it fell across her breasts then grabbed her sarong and tied it high, letting the fabric drape round her. Still he watched. That should bother her. But what she felt as she met his stare was more like triumph, like excitement.

  What was happening to her?

  He knew. The glitter in his eyes, the tight, knowing curve o
f his lips told her he understood completely.

  But it couldn’t be. It was impossible. She couldn’t be susceptible to a man who embodied everything she most hated. He was power-hungry, ruthless, selfish.

  Except now, with the girls, his arms curved protectively around them, his head bent to their chatter, he seemed like a different man altogether. A man of gentle, teasing humour and tenderness. A man who, despite his gruelling work schedule and his mega-millions, still had time to know and play with his gardener’s young children. The sort who might even one day tempt her to shed her wariness and hurt and trust a man.

  Dario was a puzzle. Whenever she thought she knew him he revealed a new facet that intrigued her.

  ‘Come,’ he said to the girls, getting to his feet and taking their hands, ‘Alissa is waiting.’

  She couldn’t prevent the smile tugging her lips as she watched him: six feet plus of sheer masculine power, gently leading the chubby twins. There was seaweed in his hair and a large shell on the wide plane of one straight shoulder. A suspicious melting sensation squeezed her chest. Hurriedly she looked away, gathering buckets and spades.

  ‘It’s time we went. Breakfast will be ready.’

  ‘You breakfast with Giorgio and his wife?’

  ‘Do you object?’ They lived on his estate, where his word was no doubt law. She glanced at the cottage up the hill. The friendship she’d found here meant a lot since she was cut off from her sister and home. It was a delight to spend time with Giorgio’s family now and then and it felt good to help out, giving them a break from the girls’ restless energy since they had a newborn to care for.

  ‘If they wish to invite you into their home, that is a matter for them.’

  Instantly defensive, Alissa thought she detected disapproval in his voice. Her spine stiffened and her chin lifted. For a few moments she’d forgotten his low opinion of her. Now that knowledge stabbed her through the middle.