Ruthless Revenge: Sweet Surrender: Seducing His Enemy's Daughter / Surrendering to the Vengeful Italian / Soldier Under Siege

‘Nervous? No.’ Casually she reached for her discarded glass and took a slow sip.

‘Something else then?’ His voice was a dark purr. Instead of reassuring, it primed her fight-or-flight response. Donato was no tame cat. He was about as safe as a panther eyeing its next meal.

‘Several things spring to mind, Donato, but I’m too polite to spell them out.’

His chuckle was warm treacle spilling through her veins. ‘It’s been an absolute pleasure meeting you tonight, Ella. I hadn’t expected to enjoy myself so much.’

‘I amuse you?’ Her jaw firmed, her look dared him to laugh at her.

‘That’s not the word I’d use.’ Abruptly his laughter died. His expression was sombre and intent.

‘I don’t want to know.’

His eyebrows arched. ‘You don’t? I hadn’t pegged you for a coward, Ella.’

She shook her head. ‘I’m not afraid of you.’ She was too busy being terrified of the stranger she’d become while she was with him.

‘Good, that will make things so much more enjoyable.’

‘What things?’

He rocked back on his heels. ‘Our relationship.’

‘We don’t have a relationship. I’m going to leave and you’ll spend the rest of the evening enjoying the party.’ It was a test of willpower not to look at the pool terrace, where the laughter had escalated to riotous. He’d be welcomed with open arms. ‘We won’t see each other again.’

The realisation was like a rock plummeting inside her stomach. Despite all tonight’s negatives, Ella felt invigorated, more energised than she had in ages.

‘Why? Do you have a man waiting up for you?’ Donato dragged his hands out of his pockets, his stance widening as he folded his arms across his chest. The movement transformed him from lazy spectator to belligerent adversary. Or maybe it was the way he scowled.

‘There’s no one waiting up for me.’ Ella could have bitten her tongue. He brought out the reckless, unthinking side she usually managed to squash.

‘Excellent. I won’t be stepping on anyone’s toes.’

Ella read his smug expression and her fingers slipped on the damp glass. There was a crash. Water sprayed her bare leg as the glass shattered on the flagstones.

‘Are you okay?’ He stepped forward, so close he stole her air. His hand lifted as if to touch her and something engulfed her—a warmth, a frisson, an unseen shimmer of electrical charge.

‘Fine! I’m fine.’ Ella assumed it was water trickling down her calf, not blood from a tiny cut. She’d look later.

She stepped back, coming up against the stone wall. She swallowed down panic. ‘It’s been a very long day and I’m tired.’ With an effort she kept her words even. ‘Find someone else to play your games.’

Piercing eyes scrutinised her, then Donato nodded and stepped aside to let her pass. Relief stirred.

‘You underestimate me, Ella. I’m not playing games. I’ll call for you in the morning.’

‘Why? There’s no point.’

There was no smile on his features when he answered. ‘To get to know you before the wedding, of course.’

‘Cut it out, Donato. The joke’s over.’ Was that a wobble in her voice? Great. Just great. Ella stalked past.

To her horror he turned, his long stride fitting to hers, his hand hovering at the small of her back. She felt it as surely as if he’d pressed his palm to her spine.

‘I’ll walk you to the house.’

‘I can get there alone.’

‘You’re tired. I’ll keep you company.’

Ella slammed to a halt and a whisper of sensation glanced down her back as his hand skimmed her dress. An instant later he’d stepped back.

It was more than tiredness bothering her. Being back in her father’s house, she had that awful sensation she’d known in her teens, that she was dressing up, pretending to be someone she wasn’t. She’d even grown klutzy again, though she worked with her hands all the time.

Worse, being watched by Donato unnerved her. As for his pretence that he wanted to marry her! That made her burn from the soles of her feet to the tips of her ears.

‘Now you listen!’ She swung around and lifted a hand to jab her index finger into that imposing chest.

To her surprise Donato stepped back before she made contact.

‘Don’t.’ The single word was terse. His face hardened, grew still but for the tic of a pulse at his temple.

‘What?’ He didn’t like her invading his personal space? Tough. She didn’t like being the butt of his joke. She planted her hands on her hips and moved even closer.

‘Not a good idea, Ella.’

‘Why not? You can dish it out but you can’t cope with a woman who stands up to your cruel little games?’ Silly to taste disappointment. For a while there she’d almost believed there was more to Donato.

That proved it. She was tired.

His lips thinned, curling up in a smile unlike either of the ones she’d seen before. This one held no warmth or humour. It was a hunter’s assessing look and it was full of satisfaction. It brought her up sharply, her heart thrumming frantically.

‘On the contrary, Ella.’ His voice slowed to syrup on her name. ‘I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to you standing up against me.’

Dazed, Ella wondered if he too pictured them locked together, she held high in his embrace, her legs around his waist. She swallowed, willing the fiery blush away.

Then she read the tension in his neck and shoulders, in his clenched hands. ‘Don’t try to con me, Donato. You don’t like me being this close to you.’

‘Brave but foolish, Ella.’ He unfurled his hands, stretching his long fingers, and abruptly Ella felt far too close for comfort. ‘I don’t want you near me. I want you against me, skin to skin, with nothing between us. I want to watch you blush, not just with arousal—’ his gaze trawled her heated face ‘—but with ecstasy.’

Her gasp was loud in the throbbing silence.

He breathed deep, his chest rising so high Ella could swear she felt a disturbance in the air, brushing her breasts and drawing her nipples to tight buds. Her body blazed with the fire he’d ignited.

‘I drew back,’ he murmured, ‘because when we do touch, I want us to be alone. So we can finish what we start.’ His eyes were heavy-lidded yet there was nothing lazy about his scrutiny. She felt it in the jangle of her nerves. That only made her angrier.

‘You expect me to believe one touch from me and you wouldn’t be able to control yourself?’ Her eyebrows arched. She wasn’t that naïve, despite the foolish way her body responded. She was no siren, to make men forget themselves.

‘I know neither of us would want to pull back once we...connected.’ He let his words sink in. ‘I also suspect your desire for privacy might be even stronger than mine. Anyone could walk down here and interrupt us.’

He looked around as if searching for a suitable spot for them to get naked together.

‘I don’t believe you.’

His gaze collided with hers. ‘You want to test it?’ His nostrils flared, his eyes gleaming slits. He looked primitive, dangerous, like a warrior daring her to combat.

Her brain screamed a warning and Ella stepped back. The scrape of her heel on the flagstone was unnaturally loud. Even her breathing was amplified, and her pulse, beating that quick tattoo.

‘No, I don’t want to touch you. Not now, not ever.’ Just as well there was no summer thunderstorm tonight or she might have been struck down for the enormity of that lie. ‘I won’t be seeing you again, Donato. Goodbye.’

Squaring her shoulders, half expecting him to stop her, Ella turned and strode along the terrace back towards the bright lights and people.

He let her go. See, it had been easy after all. She’d called Donato’s bluff and that was the end of it.

That was not disappointment she felt. It was relief that she’d never have to see him again.

CHAPTER FOUR

DONATO WATCHED ELLA march away. He’d thought nothing about Reg Sanderson could surprise him. Yet Sanderson’s daughter had stopped him in his tracks.

Ella. He savoured her name.

Perhaps it had been a mistake pulling away from her. Maybe if he hadn’t kept his distance he’d have shattered this illusion that she was different.

Except it would take more than a quickie up against the garden wall to quench what was inside him.

Which, he assured himself, fitted his plans perfectly.

That was what he had to concentrate on. Revenge. He’d always known it would be sweet. With Ella as an added bonus it would be delicious.

He sauntered to the house. There was no one here he wanted to spend time with. Only Ella. Despite her bravado he’d read her fear. Sensible woman. But he’d allay those fears and ensure she enjoyed their time together.

He’d stopped to tell a waiter about the broken glass on the lower level when Sanderson appeared. His pale eyes looked almost febrile, belying his casual stance. Satisfaction stirred. This had been a long time coming. Too long. He intended to enjoy every moment of Sanderson’s descent into ruin.

‘All alone, Donato?’ He scowled. ‘Where’s that girl of mine? Don’t tell me she’s left you alone?’

‘Ella was tired.’

‘Tired? I’ll give her tired!’ he roared. ‘I—’

‘It’s better she gets her sleep tonight.’ Donato kept his voice bland though he wanted to grab Sanderson by the scruff of his neck and shake him till his teeth rattled.

Because Donato hated him with every fibre of his being? Or because of the way he spoke of Ella? Didn’t the man realise how precious family was? Had he no concept of protecting his child against a man whom everyone knew was as implacable and dangerous as they came?

What sort of man sold his daughter to a stranger?

Donato already knew the answer. Reg Sanderson. The bastard had already destroyed too many lives.

It would be a public service as well as a pleasure to see he got his just deserts.

Darkness engulfed him. No, Donato wouldn’t see him dead, which was what he deserved. Donato had come close to killing once and he’d learned a lot since then. This way was better. Sanderson’s suffering would be drawn out.

‘She should have stayed here, with you. I apologise.’

Donato raised his hand. ‘It doesn’t matter. I’ll see her tomorrow.’

‘You will?’ The older man’s expression stilled. ‘So, you’re interested? In Ella?’ Was that barely concealed shock in his voice? Sanderson had no notion what a gem his daughter was. The man was blind as well as deplorable.

Donato had seen the photos of Ella’s sister, a golden girl with obvious allure. Yet if he really sought a bride he wouldn’t choose Felicity Sanderson. If reports were accurate, she hadn’t a loyal bone in her body.

Did Ella really believe her sister would stick with this new lover, or did she merely try to protect her from the danger he, Donato, represented?

The idea of her protecting anyone from him was ludicrous, given his far superior power and resources. Yet the notion stuck and he filed it away for future consideration.

‘It was a delight meeting someone so refreshing and intelligent.’ Forthright and clever enough to be suspicious, Ella had intrigued from the instant she’d looked at him.

Sanderson didn’t quite hide his satisfaction. His smile was hungry. ‘It’s wonderful you hit it off so well. I’d hoped you would. There’s no telling with Ella; sometimes she can be a little...’

‘A little...?’

Sanderson shrugged and took a swig of his drink. ‘To be frank, she can be a little outspoken sometimes. But in a good way, of course. Refreshing, as you say.’

He smiled that conspiratorial smile as if they were good buddies and Donato had to repress the compulsion to slam his fist into the other man’s whiter than white capped teeth. He’d done a lot of things in his time, some of them society had labelled reprehensible. But nothing that sickened him like playing Sanderson’s temporary friend.

‘I prefer honesty to polite platitudes.’ Especially when those platitudes hid murky secrets.

‘Don’t we all?’

‘Meeting your daughter has helped me feel I know you better. That’s important if we’re to work together.’

‘I thought you’d see it that way.’ Sanderson paused, then said carefully, ‘So, you want to proceed with the partnership and the loan?’ His absolute stillness gave him away. He was strung tight.

Grim satisfaction filled Donato. ‘Definitely. This is too good an opportunity to miss.’

It had taken years of preparation to reach this point, and now he was poised to destroy Sanderson financially and socially. If he couldn’t put him behind bars for his crimes, Donato would at least see he lost what he cared for most. ‘My staff are ready to meet at ten tomorrow to discuss the details.’

‘You won’t be there?’ Concern flared in Sanderson’s eyes. Excellent. It was time he discovered he couldn’t keep running from the consequences of his actions.

‘My staff are competent to handle the meeting. I plan to be with Ella, getting to know her better.’

‘I’m sure she’ll love that.’

Not initially, Donato knew, but he’d change her mind. He looked forward to it.

‘Does that mean you liked my notion of a Salazar-Sanderson marriage?’ Sanderson looked urbane and relaxed, yet the ripple on the surface of his whisky betrayed him.

Donato scrutinised him, from his deep tan and perennially gold hair to the gloss only close acquaintance with serious money could buy. That didn’t hide the mean lines around his mouth, the avaricious gleam in those pale blue eyes or the pugnacious angle of that thick jaw.

He knew what Sanderson was. Imagine him as a father. No wonder his eldest daughter was a beautiful waste of space. Which made his younger daughter...what, exactly?

‘Donato?’ Sanderson didn’t sound quite so smug now.

‘The marriage idea?’ Donato took his time, relishing the other man’s unease. ‘I think it’s an excellent one.’

Sanderson’s eyes widened momentarily before his face eased into a calculating look. ‘Ella is a special girl, and lucky.’ His toothy smile reminded Donato of a crocodile. Or maybe it was just that he knew Sanderson to be as cold-blooded as any reptile.

Despite the money he’d made, Donato had no illusions that he was love’s young dream. Not with his criminal record. He was the sort of man parents prayed their daughter would never bring home.

Yet here was Sanderson thrusting his unsuspecting daughter into Donato’s arms. Was there anything Sanderson wouldn’t do for money?

‘And Ella agreed?’ Pale eyes fixed on him.

‘Ella understands what I want. We’ll sort out the details soon.’

‘It will be a pleasure welcoming you to the family.’ Sanderson made to shake hands but Donato pretended not to notice, turning to snag a wine glass from a passing waiter.

‘Here’s to the wedding that will make us family.’ Sanderson raised his glass.

Donato suppressed a wave of nausea at the notion of being so intimately linked with this man. Sanderson had destroyed the one person Donato had ever loved. The only one who’d ever loved him. Sanderson had destroyed countless others too and didn’t give a damn. But Donato did, and he’d make sure Sanderson paid in full.

‘To the wedding,’ he murmured. ‘Soon, don’t you think?’

‘Definitely.’ Sanderson nodded. ‘Though Ella might—’

‘I’m sure I can persuade her to an early date.’ The thought of persuading Ella made his blood hum. He was counting the hours till he saw her again. That was a first.

His host nodded. ‘I knew you’d be the man for her. A lovely girl, but she needs a firm hand.’

Was that how Sanderson had managed his family? Donato’s investigators had concentrated on Sanderson’s business activities, especially any nasty little financial secrets, not on his family. Sympathy flickered, even for party girl Felicity. But most of all for Ella. Ella, with the wary eyes, who didn’t believe she was beautiful.

‘Don’t worry. You can leave Ella to me.’

‘Good man.’ Sanderson waved his whisky glass. ‘I suppose you’d prefer to marry in Melbourne so I suggest—’

‘No, I couldn’t do that. I know the bride’s family organises the wedding. You’ll want to give Ella a big society event.’ Donato smiled, genuine amusement surfacing at Sanderson’s dismay. Obviously, in his scheming to snare Donato’s support, and money, he hadn’t reckoned with footing the bill for a lavish celebration.

‘That’s kind, Donato. But you’re a very private man. Ella will understand if you want to tie the knot quietly.’

Donato shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t dream of depriving her. The bigger the celebration the better. It will signal the beginning of our partnership.’ There, that made him smile. ‘Let’s make it the society event of the decade.’

Donato watched his host turn a pasty shade of green. ‘I realise it’s a huge task organising such an event at short notice so I’ll give you some assistance.’

‘That’s very good of you, Donato. I won’t say no.’

‘Good. I’ll lend you someone to help with the preparations. I know just the person. She’s got an eye for quality and understands we’ll want no expense spared.’ He put up his hand when Sanderson would have interrupted. ‘Don’t thank me. It’s the least I can do.’

Sanderson bit back a response, his expression for a moment ugly, though quickly masked.

‘Now, if you’ll just give me Ella’s mobile number? I forgot to get it earlier.’

Interestingly, for a man who thought his daughter so ‘special’, Sanderson didn’t have the number programmed into his phone. He had to go inside to get it, leaving Donato to consider the outcome of tonight’s events.

Sanderson was on the hook.

As for his absurd proposal that Donato marry his daughter...that was the bid of a desperate man.

But Donato would play along. It would be the icing on the cake to know his enemy had spent his last credit on a huge public wedding that would never take place. Not only would Sanderson be ruined beyond redemption, the farce of the non-wedding would make him a social pariah.

Even if Donato had to come in quietly later and pay the bills so no suppliers were out of pocket, the expense would be worth it. Sanderson would be in the gutter, ashamed and ostracised, bankrupt and unable to start again. He deserved far worse but it would do.

Only one thing niggled. When Sanderson had first suggested marriage, Donato had had no qualms about agreeing. From what he’d learned, Felicity had a Teflon-coated heart. She’d thrive on the notoriety and the monetary compensation Donato would provide when the wedding was cancelled.

But Ella was different. He didn’t yet have her measure and that gave him pause. He never went into negotiations without knowing his opponent. Or in this case his partner.

His lips tilted in a satisfied smile. No, it didn’t matter if this once he winged it. He’d work out a way to compensate her. But he had no intention of walking away. Not merely because this dovetailed so nicely with his plans for revenge. But because he wanted Ella.

He intended to enjoy her, and their courtship, to the full.

CHAPTER FIVE

‘’LO...?’ ELLA DRAGGED the phone to her ear, burrowing deeper into her bed. It was far too early on a Saturday morning for anyone to call.

‘Not a morning person, Ella?’ The deep voice poured through the phone to ripple like soft suede over her bare skin. Instantly she was alert, her eyes popping open to survey the morning light sneaking around the edges of her bedroom curtains.

‘Who is this?’ Her voice sounded prim, almost schoolmarmish, but it was her best effort. She’d gone to sleep with the sound of Donato’s voice in her ears; she’d even dreamt of it when she eventually managed to snatch some sleep. It was unfair to be confronted with it now when she hadn’t had time to gather herself.

‘As if you don’t know, sweet Ella. Did I wake you?’ The words worked like a caress, drawing her skin taut, jerking her free of the last traces of sleep. That voice should be outlawed. It was too decadent, too delicious to be unleashed on an unsuspecting woman.

‘Yes. No!’ She rolled her eyes in frustration. ‘Who’s speaking?’

‘Forgotten your fiancé already?’ His voice plumbed new depths, curling heat right down inside her. ‘I can see I’ll have to try harder.’

‘Donato.’ No point pretending. ‘What do you want?’ She wouldn’t dignify that fiancé joke with a response.

‘I told you last night want I wanted.’

Her. That was what he’d said. And her body had gone into libido overdrive at the look in his sultry eyes.

‘But for now just tell me, are you still in bed?’

‘What if I am?’ Ella frowned. Why? Was he somewhere nearby? Had her father given him her address? Surely not. Donato Salazar wouldn’t venture into the working-class suburbs in search of her. Though, after what she’d learned about him on the Web when she got home, he wasn’t a stranger to poor neighbourhoods. She still found it hard to believe what she’d discovered.

‘Tell me what you’re wearing.’ The words raked her skin, drawing it tight over a belly that clenched needily.

Just at the sound of his voice?

Ella bit back a moan. This couldn’t be happening to her.

‘Tell me, Ella. Pyjamas?’ He paused. ‘A nightie?’ Another pause, longer this time. ‘Silk and lace?’

She firmed her lips, not letting herself rise to the bait.

‘Or do you sleep naked?’

The gasp escaped her lips before she could stop it. Weirdly, it felt as if, just by saying it, he must know.

And now he did. She’d given herself away with that intake of breath. She heard it in his voice. ‘Give me your address and I’ll be straight over.’

‘No!’ Her voice hit top register. Her heart was pounding as she heard his dark-chocolate chuckle against her ear.

She wanted to tell him she didn’t usually sleep naked. It had just been so hot last night and she couldn’t get comfortable, even after a cold shower. But she knew he’d put two and two together and realise it wasn’t the summer heat that had kept her from sleep, but thoughts of him. His ego was big enough already.

‘Why are you ringing, Donato?’

‘It’s not enough that I want to hear your voice?’

That sounded like a parody of her own feelings. She tried to despise this man who was a crony of her father’s, who’d toyed with her last night. Yet she kept the phone pressed to her ear, luxuriating in the soft rumble of his voice. As if she wanted that flurry of desire rippling through her.

Ella shuffled up in the bed, yanking the pillows up behind her so she could sit. Lying naked in bed with Donato’s voice in her ear was wrong on so many levels.

‘Get to the point, Donato. Why did you call?’

‘Do you usually sleep so late?’

Ella peered at the time, stunned to find it was after nine. ‘No.’ Usually she was up at six to fit in Pilates or a swim before work.

‘So you had a disturbed night? Were you dreaming about me?’ That thread of satisfaction in his voice grew stronger.

‘Is there a point to this call?’ She sighed ostentatiously as if she hadn’t indeed spent half the night taunted by dreams of him. ‘Or do I hang up now?’

‘Give me your address so I can collect you. We’re having lunch together.’

Ella scowled. She told herself it was because of his assumption she’d go along with what he wanted. But what unnerved her was the little jiggle of excitement that skipped through her.

‘Ella?’

‘If you’d invited me to lunch I’d be obliged to thank you for the invitation before I declined. But as there was no invitation that’s unnecessary.’

‘Absolutely,’ he said smoothly. ‘Because we will be lunching together.’

Ella shifted against the pillows. She shouldn’t enjoy this fruitless argument. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to end the call. Not when basking in the sound of Donato’s voice was the closest she’d come to enjoying a man’s company in a long, long time.

What did that say about the state of her love life?

Pathetic! That was it.

‘What’s your address, Ella?’

‘I’m surprised a man with your resources doesn’t already have it.’ Her father would have given it to him in an instant, if he’d been able to find it. ‘Don’t tell me your dossier on the Sanderson family doesn’t include something so basic.’

‘I don’t have a dossier on your family.’

‘I thought you’d be a better liar, Donato.’

Instead of taking offence he chuckled again, the sound like warm water lapping through her veins. Ella’s hand on the phone grew clammy and her bare nipples budded. Frowning, she snatched the sheet and dragged it up, anchoring it under her arms. As if that would protect her from whatever this magic was he wove around her.

‘I have a dossier on your father’s business and on his private...interests.’ Ella winced, not liking the sound of that. There were some things she didn’t need to know about her father. ‘And some information on your sister.’

‘You told me you didn’t set your investigators onto her!’

‘I didn’t need to. A quick trawl through the social pages was more than ample.’

Ella hated the way he dismissed Fuzz as if she were nothing. Her sister might be flawed but she wasn’t as bad as all that. She just needed purpose, and freedom from their father’s influence.

‘Really?’ Her voice dripped disapproval.

‘It seemed a sensible precaution since your father suggested I marry her.’

And now Fuzz was out of the picture that left Ella.

Ella glanced around the bedroom with its Monet print on the wall and her pride and joy, the nineteen-twenties tub chair she’d rescued from a garage sale and reconditioned with the help of a night class. The wooden legs glowed with polish and the sage-green upholstery was restful as well as pretty.

The idea of strangers nosing into her world, ordinary as it was, picking through the details of her life, set her teeth on edge.

‘I don’t make it into the social pages. How much have you found out about me?’

‘Not nearly enough.’ The skin at Ella’s nape drew tight at the sultry note in that deep voice.

‘Your investigators only work business hours? You disappoint me, Donato. I’d have thought they’d scurry to do the bidding of a man with your reputation even late last night.’

‘You’ve been doing some digging of your own.’ He didn’t sound fazed.

‘Don’t tell me you’re offended?’

‘On the contrary, I’m pleased. It proves that, despite your rather emphatic goodbye, you anticipated meeting me again.’

Ella scowled. He was right. Why bother finding out about him if she’d cut him from her life? She’d had an insidious certainty it wasn’t so easy to get rid of Donato Salazar.

No, it was more than that. She’d wanted to know everything she could about him. No man had ever made such an impact on her.

‘And as for hiring investigators to work through the night...’

‘Yes?’ She shifted uneasily. Was someone even now interviewing her neighbours or accessing her records?

‘You made it clear you believed that an unforgivable breach of privacy.’

‘So?’

‘So I’m not going to do it to you.’

‘Sorry?’

‘You heard me, Ella. I’m not in the habit of saying things I don’t mean.’

For a moment words eluded her. ‘Just like that? Because I said so?’

‘Just like that.’

Ella’s pulse faltered then tripped to an unfamiliar beat. He was serious. Yet she couldn’t quite believe he’d renege on using the power his money could buy just because it offended her.

Why would he do that?

She shoved her hair back from her face. To her amazement her fingers were ever so slightly unsteady.

What did he want from her?

Surely he’d been lying last night, saying he wanted to know her. As for that nonsense about them marrying—

‘I want to know everything about you.’ His deep voice burred in her ear. ‘But I want to find out from you.’

She’d known Donato Salazar was dangerous, but still she wasn’t prepared for the way he devastated her defences. It took precious seconds to find her voice. ‘I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed.’

‘Nothing about you is disappointing, believe me, Ella.’ There it was again, that caress when he said her name. As if those two simple syllables were an endearment.

‘I meant—’ she set her jaw ‘—you’ll be disappointed because we’re not going to meet again.’

He was silent and stupidly something like anxiety feathered through her. At the idea this was the last time she’d speak with him? Impossible!

‘Are you scared of me, Ella?’

‘Scared? No.’ Strangely enough, it was true. She was scared of what he made her feel, of the urgent, restless woman she’d become in the short time since they’d met. But not scared of him.

‘Not even after what you discovered in your research on me?’ The banter was gone from his voice. He sounded deadly serious.

Deadly. Now there was a word. Last night she’d thought he looked dangerous. Then, at home, sitting with her computer, she’d discovered how right she’d been. How many people had she known personally who’d been to prison for assault?

None.

Was it naïve of her to believe that, despite his teenage criminal record, Donato Salazar wouldn’t hurt her?

She’d been stunned to read about his crime and his prison term. At the same time it went some way to explaining the sense she’d had last night that he was a man apart from everyone else.

As a nurse she’d worked with a huge range of people, from the frail aged to the bloodied survivors of brawls to the drug-addicted and downright dangerous. She was cautious, methodical, never taking unnecessary risks, especially doing home visits. But the only alarm she felt now was at her own avid response to Donato.

‘I’m not afraid of you because you’ve got a criminal record, Donato.’ In the intervening years he’d built a reputation for ruthlessness in business but there’d never been a hint he was anything but a model citizen. He’d been lauded for his work supporting inner-city youth centres and legislation to assist victims of abuse.

‘Then you’re unique.’ Was that bitterness she heard? She hitched herself higher against the pillows.