Untamed Italian, Blackmailed Innocent

by Jacqueline Baird

  Her brows shot up, and, holding her anger in, she said acidly, ‘In your dreams—but certainly not in mine.’

  His hand snaked out and tangled in her hair, jerking her towards him. ‘Do you know, Miss Paxton…’ his smile was chilling ‘…I’m minded to prove you wrong.’

  She tried to pull her head away from him, but his hand tightened, and she stared up at him, her blue eyes spitting flames. Suddenly she was aware of the sexual violence emanating from every line of his powerful body.

  ‘Don’t even try,’ she snapped.

  He raised one dark brow. ‘Big mistake, Sally,’ he drawled mockingly. ‘Did your mother never tell you you should never challenge an angry man?’ He snaked a long arm around her waist to pull her hard against him.

  ‘Let me go.’ There was a brief silence as his eyes narrowed on her mouth. She was stiff with anger, and suddenly very afraid. ‘I said let go of me.’

  Zac gave her another chilling smile. ‘I will, but first here is something to remember me by.’

  Her eyes widened as his head bent and his mouth ravaged hers in a kiss of savage passion.

  When he finally let her go she was gasping for breath and her legs were trembling. ‘You…You…’ she spluttered, livid with rage—and something more she refused to acknowledge.

  He placed a finger over her lips. ‘Save it. I am leaving and I won’t be back.’ He stared at her for a moment, a look of icy contempt in his hard eyes. ‘Shame…It could have been good—but I am not into playing games, and you are nothing but a spoilt little tease.’ He shrugged his broad shoulders and turned and walked to the door.

  Sally shivered and collapsed onto the sofa. Her head fell back against the cushions, a long, sad sigh escaping her. All her emotional energy was spent worrying about her mother, and she had none to waste on Zac. A man born with a silver spoon in his mouth and accustomed to wealth and power, who expected women to simply fall at his feet, was not for her.

  She did not see Zac glance back, nor the frown that creased his broad brow. She only heard the closing of the door as he left.

  Zac walked into the elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor. He had caught the same expression of sadness on Sally’s face just now, as he’d left, as he had when they’d first met. For a second he was tempted to go to her. Then common sense prevailed.

  Over the weekend he and Raffe had discovered how her father had been robbing the company for years. Today they had added up the cost, and it was well over a million. He had told Raffe he would deal with Paxton in his own time, and had sent Raffe back to the head office in Rome—mainly because of Sally. He had behaved like a stupid lovesick teenager, soft in the head and hard everywhere else.

  Well, no more…He punched the wall of the lift, and barely bruised his knuckles. Never had a woman led him on and then turned him down so callously, and he would make damn sure it never happened again.

  In the morning he would face Nigel Paxton with the evidence of the man’s fraud, and from now on he would stick to the sophisticated ladies who mixed in his circles and played the game by his rules. In fact, he would make a dinner date with Margot, a lawyer who had made it obvious she would be up for anything—which, ironically, was why he hadn’t bothered before. But tomorrow he would, and he’d be fine…

  Chapter Six

  THE restaurant was exclusive and very expensive and the latest fashionable place to eat. Sally looked at her companion across the table and smiled. Al was just what she needed. She had dressed carefully for their date in an effort to cheer herself up. The scarlet dress she was wearing had shoestring straps, a fitted bodice with a wide soft leather belt, and a short, gently flaring skirt. She had swept her hair up in a loose pile of curls on top of her head, mainly to keep cool in the hot weather London was experiencing. Al had taken one look at her and told her she looked fabulous, which had done a lot for her confidence, and then they had caught a taxi to the restaurant so Al could have a drink.

  He had spent the last ten minutes waxing lyrical about a girl he had met last weekend at a house party given by one of his father’s clients on an estate in Northumberland. Apparently, she was the owner’s daughter, and it was she who had turned him down for dinner tonight.

  Sally pointed out if the girl lived in Northumberland it was hardly surprising. It was the other end of England, and not everyone owned a private Piper plane like his dad. If he was keen, he should fly up north to see her again.

  ‘Of course—why didn’t I think of that?’ Al laughed. ‘You are so bright, Sally. Your advice is always good.’

  The wine waiter arrived with an excellent bottle of Chardonnay and filled their glasses, and they drank a toast to each other. Then Al began regaling her with tall tales of his South American trip, making her laugh.

  After a delicious main course they were soon waiting for their dessert, and Al reached across the table and took her hand in his, his blue eyes suddenly serious.

  ‘Enough about me, old girl. Apart from your work, you have avoided telling me anything about what is going on in your life. What is really bothering you?’

  ‘Not me.’ She sighed. ‘My mother.’ It was such a relief to talk to someone who understood, and softly she told him about her mum’s accident and prognosis. He lifted her hand and pressed a soft kiss on the back.

  ‘Sorry, Sally. It must be hard. If there is anything I can do for you, anything at all, you only have to ask—you know that. You have my number, just call.’

  She lifted moisture-filled eyes to his. ‘I know, Al, and thanks.’ She tried to smile. ‘And I might take you up on that one day.’

  Zac Delucca, seated in an intimate booth at the rear of the restaurant, had been enjoying his dinner with Margot, the intelligent thirty-something company lawyer he had met when negotiating on an apartment block he had bought in London a few years ago. He’d been pleasantly contemplating how the evening would end when his attention had been drawn to a couple entering the restaurant.

  It was Sally Paxton, wearing a low-cut red silk dress that fitted her like a glove, emphasising her tiny waist, the curve of her hips, then flaring out provocatively as she walked. It ended a good three inches above her knees. The colour should have clashed with her hair, but didn’t, and the same sexy red high-heeled sandals he had noticed the first time he saw her enhanced her shapely legs.

  She was hanging onto her so-called friend Al’s arm, and Zac could not keep his eyes off her.

  He had watched them sit down at a table near the entrance, a simmering anger engulfing him.

  He had barely listened to Margot’s conversation, simply nodding his head occasionally, or slotting in a yes or a no. His whole attention was focused on the younger couple. Sally Paxton had turned him down in the most brutal way possible, and now she was smiling, laughing, holding Al’s hand and looking into his eyes as though he was her soul mate.

  He had seen enough, and he had changed his mind again…His interest in Margot, fleeting at best, was killed stone-dead. He signalled for the bill, paid it and got to his feet.

  ‘You are in a rush? We have not had dessert or coffee.’

  He had almost forgotten his companion, and glanced down at her.

  She smiled as she stood up to join him, and clung to his arm, a blatant invitation in her eyes. ‘But we can have coffee at my place.’

  He gave her the briefest of smiles and said nothing. She was going to be disappointed…

  Sally glanced up as the waiter arrived with their dessert, and the emotional moment was gone. ‘This looks positively sinful!’ She smiled, eyeing the small mountain of profiteroles covered in chocolate sauce and surrounded by cream…

  ‘Don’t look now, but a man you know who probably is sinful is heading this way with a stunning woman on his arm,’ Al said quietly.

  ‘Who?’ She glanced enquiringly at Al, but before he could answer, a familiar tall dark-headed man stopped at their table.

  ‘Hello, Al—and Sally. Nice to see you again.’

  Al
replied sociably, but the deep, dark voice had sent every nerve in Sally’s body jangling.

  She looked up. Zac was standing by the table, wide-shouldered, lean-hipped and long-limbed. He was wearing a perfectly tailored grey suit, a white shirt and matching tie, and he looked fabulous.

  Sally was struck dumb as his dark eyes stared down into hers, and a vivid image of herself lying naked beneath him flashed in her head. She glanced to his companion and fought back the blush that threatened. The beautiful raven-haired woman clinging to his arm was almost as impressive as Zac. Tall and slender, she wore her lime-green designer gown like a model.

  She probably was a model, Sally thought, and her brief moment of embarrassment was gone.

  She had been right to say no last night to Zac Delucca. His women were as interchangeable as his shirts, and she told herself she had had a lucky escape. But she was slightly surprised that he had bothered to stop and say hello…When he’d left her apartment his contemptuous farewell had been very final.

  ‘Enjoying your meal, Sally?’

  There it was again, the seductive voice, but it was wasted on her.

  She glanced up, saw the smile on his attractive face and noted that it did not reach his hard dark eyes. ‘I was,’ she said, with biting sarcasm.

  Zac Delucca stared at her, stunned by the implied insult. Rage such as he had never felt before swept through him, and his hard black eyes raked furiously over her. He noted her exquisite face, carefully made up, and the silken red hair piled on top of her head in a mass of curls, enhancing the long line of her neck and the low neckline of her dress, which revealed a generous glimpse of her firm white breasts No one insulted him publicly and got away with it. Very few would dare. Yet this redheaded Jezebel took delight in taking potshots at him. Well, not any more. Last night she had been naked in his arms, and she would be again, he vowed.

  He had confronted Nigel Paxton this morning with his fraudulent actions, and listened to the man’s paltry defence. Zac had told him he was considering police action, but he wasn’t…Being tied up in a court case was not Zac’s idea of fun, and admitting someone had managed to cheat him was not good for business, but he had not given Paxton his final decision nor fired him yet. He had thought to let him stew for a day or two—it was the least he deserved—and now Zac was glad he had as a much more personal solution to the problem formed in his mind.

  Sally saw the fury in Zac’s face for a split second and she held her breath as the silence lengthened, her heart beating faster in her breast. Maybe she had gone too far. It was not like her to be deliberately impolite.

  Finally, he smiled, a humourless twist of his chiselled lips, his dark eyes clashing with hers. ‘Ever the tease, Sally,’ he drawled sardonically. ‘Enjoy the rest of your meal.’ And he was gone.

  Zac’s subtle reminder of last night had brought a pink tinge to her cheeks, and she heaved a sigh of relief and began to relax again as the couple left the restaurant.

  ‘What was all that about?’ Al asked. ‘Delucca was furious, and I certainly wouldn’t ever want to be on the receiving end of the look you just got.’

  ‘Nothing. Now, can I enjoy my dessert in peace, please?’

  ‘Yes, but I have warned you once about Delucca. He is really not a man to fool around with, and certainly not the type to insult.’

  ‘Al, don’t worry—I am never going to see the man again, and he certainly will not want to see me.’ She grinned. ‘Trust me, his ego is as big as his bank balance.’

  ‘My point exactly,’ Al cut in. ‘Nobody insults a man like that and gets away with it. Take it from me as a man. I recognise the signs. He was angry, but on a primitive level he wants you badly, and I would hate to see you get hurt. So beware.’

  The telephone was ringing as she entered her apartment a couple of hours later. They had finished their meal, and then, as it was such a lovely summer night, Al had walked her home.

  ‘Yes?’ she answered.

  ‘Is he with you?’

  It was Zac, and she could not believe the nerve of the man. ‘No—not that it is any of your business. And do not ring this—’

  ‘This is business,’ he cut in. ‘Have you talked to your father today?’ he demanded.

  ‘My father? No.’ The question surprised her, and instead of hanging up on him she listened.

  ‘Then I suggest you do—soon. I will be round at eight tomorrow night…’

  ‘Now, wait a damn minute—’ But this time it was Zac who hung up on her…

  Sally slowly replaced the receiver, a puzzled frown creasing her brow. Why would Zac Delucca tell her to call her dad? It didn’t make sense. Well, she wasn’t calling her dad tonight. It was too late, and he was probably in bed with his mistress. Given Zac’s brief call, he was probably doing the same with Margot…

  On Wednesday morning, after a restless night, Sally was running late. She had stripped the bed and changed the linen after Zac had left on Monday, yet for some reason she imagined she could still smell the scent of him whenever she tried to sleep. Maybe it was the pillows, she reasoned as she dashed out to go to work. She would buy two new ones, she decided, and any thought of calling her father was forgotten.

  Usually Sally stayed in the museum for lunch, but today, after ringing her mum to check she was all right as she did every day, she went out shopping. She bought two pillows, and then stocked up in a grocery store with some essentials: fresh bread, milk and a few ready meals. Her weekends with her mother did not leave her with much time for shopping, and she rarely bothered to cook in the evenings any more.

  She dashed into her apartment building that evening as the storm clouds that had been gathering for the past few hours finally broke in a deluge of rain.

  ‘You just made it in time, Miss Paxton.’ The doorman grinned. ‘So much for the heat wave—it lasted all of two weeks.’

  ‘This is England, remember?’ Sally quipped, and headed for the elevator.

  A few minutes later she entered her apartment to the sound of the telephone ringing. Her hands were full of shopping, so she placed the pillows and the groceries on the kitchen bench, and then lifted the receiver from the wall.

  ‘Where have you been? I have been ringing you since yesterday, and you were out last night.’ It was her father.

  ‘Even I have the occasional date, and I go to work, remember? And when I’m not working I visit my mother—your wife. I have tried to call you for weeks to get you to visit her, with no success. So now you know how it feels.’

  ‘Yes, yes, I know all that. But listen to me. This is important. Has Zac Delucca rung you?’

  ‘Why would he ring me? I barely know the man,’ she said, suddenly tense as she belatedly remembered Zac calling her last night and suggesting she speak to her father.

  ‘You know him well enough—you had lunch with him on Friday.’

  ‘That was a one-off and never to be repeated,’ she said adamantly.

  ‘Don’t be so hasty to dismiss him, Sally, darling, because I gave him your telephone number yesterday.’

  ‘You had no right,’ she shot back, but as the hateful man had already known her number, there was no point arguing the issue.

  ‘Never mind that now, and listen. The man is a ruthless bastard. His employees are all terrified of him—he is noted for paring the workforce to the bone whenever he takes over a company, or closing it down completely and selling the assets. So if you want me to keep my career, I need him on my side.’

  ‘Surely you can do that yourself? In every other aspect of your life you are a waste of space, but even I accept you are good at your job,’ Sally said dryly.

  ‘I have tried, but the man trusts no one except that sidekick of his, Costa, and Costa found out I’d overlooked a rule or two and told the boss. I had an awkward meeting with Delucca yesterday, and in the process I suggested he might like to check me out through you, so promise me if he calls you will be nice to him.’

  Her father was worried about something. She recog
nised the blustering tone of his voice and remembered she had seen a hint of it the other day in the office, when Zac Delucca arrived.

  Her dad had admitted to ‘overlooking’ a rule or two—probably caught with his pants down with his secretary again, she thought bitterly. Most businesses had strict rules about relationships in the workplace, and the majority of people had the sense to keep their personal lives out of the office, but her father had never made that distinction.

  ‘I know your opinion of me, but think of your mother. I’ve already told Delucca she is paralysed and in a very expensive nursing home, hoping for the sympathy vote. All I want you to do is back me up if he calls you—though time is running out.’ He sighed. ‘I have another meeting with him tomorrow morning.’

  ‘I’ll back you up if he calls,’ she said noncommittally.

  She had no qualms about lying to her father, and she had no intention of telling him Delucca had already called, but suddenly she saw a way to make her beloved mother happy.

  ‘On one condition—you give me your solemn promise to visit Mum with me at the weekend. I’ll pick you up and book you into the hotel I use, and just for once you will stay the whole weekend.’

  ‘It’s a deal. I promise,’ he said, relief evident in his tone. ‘But try to remember you are a beautiful woman, and Delucca is a very eligible man. He took you out to lunch, so he must have fancied you. If you play your cards right you could do both of us a lot of good.’

  ‘You, maybe. As for me, I think you are a despicable excuse for a man. Heaven knows why Mum loves you, because I certainly don’t,’ Sally said, and hung up.

  Automatically she unpacked her shopping and put the food in the fridge. She carried the pillows across to the bed, and, after stripping off the pillowcases, changed the old for new. Then, taking her keys, she left the apartment and pushed the old pillows down the waste chute, at the same time wishing she could push Zac so easily from her mind.