She was going to have to talk to him. She would do anything to make her mum happy, and if that included facing Zac again and backing up her dad simply to get him to visit his wife, she would do it.
Sally returned to her apartment and closed the door. Zac had said he would be here at eight. She glanced at her watch. It was already seven. She crossed to her wardrobe, and, kicking off her shoes, placed them in the cupboard. She took out a well-washed pink velour lounging suit—the comfortable outfit she usually wore when she got home in the evening—and slipped her bare feet into flat furry pink mules; she refused to dress any differently from any other evening. She headed for the bathroom. After a quick shower she bundled her day clothes into the wash basket and slipped on clean underwear and the pink suit. Then, squaring her shoulders, she zipped up the top.
She wasn’t out to impress, she told herself, and, returning to the living room, she sat down on the sofa, picking up the remote and switching on the television.
Normality was what she was striving for, but without much success. Her stomach churned with nerves, and she could not concentrate on the screen, but she did not have to for long as the intercom sounded.
She crossed to the door, hit the button and listened, then answered, ‘Yes.’
She waited by the door, and when the bell rang opened it.
Zac stood like a dark avenging angel, big and tall, his black hair plastered to his head by the rain, his broad shoulders fitting perfectly beneath a dark jacket that had not fared much better. Beneath it he wore a black cotton tee shirt and dark pleated pants.
‘May I come in?’ he asked with icy politeness, and the eyes that met hers were hard and cold.
‘Good to see you did not fib your way in this time,’ she said. It was the first thing that came into her head as her heart lurched at the sight of him. She made an exaggerated gesture with one slender arm. ‘Be my guest.’
He pushed past her and she caught the slightest scent of his cologne—sandalwood, maybe. Whatever it was, it had a disturbing effect on her. Her stomach fluttered as if a thousand butterflies had taken up residence, and angrily she told herself not to be so stupid.
This was business. Zac had said so, and her father had told her he would check him out with her. The female on Zac’s arm last night confirmed he had certainly moved on in the sexual stakes…Sally would bet her last cent the willowy model had not said no.
‘Sarcasm does not become you, Sally.’
‘How would you know? You don’t know me,’ she snapped angrily, following him into the living room. He had removed his wet jacket and was in the process of looping it over the small stair rail, his back to her.
Slowly he turned round and stared at her with narrowed eyes, his expression unreadable.
‘Maybe not completely…’ His eyes narrowed further, scanning her slender body with deliberate provocation and making her remember their last encounter here. ‘But I am going to—very well…’ His smile was chilling.
‘Not in this lifetime,’ she said, her temper rising, the image of him with his latest conquest still in the forefront of her mind.
He took a step towards her. ‘You have spoken to your father?’ he queried, his dark eyes fixed intently on her flushed face.
The mention of her dad was enough to make her tense, and it didn’t help that, minus his jacket, the black cotton tee shirt Zac wore moulded every muscle of his broad chest. She tried to ignore his much superior height and strength, but the sheer physical impact of the man was enough to make her go weak at the knees. ‘Yes, of course I have,’ she said bravely, holding his gaze.
‘And you think you have a choice?’ he demanded, with a mocking lift of one dark eyebrow.
‘I don’t know what you mean.’ And she didn’t. Simply looking at the damn man turned her brain to jelly. Gathering every shred of control she possessed, she continued. ‘All I know is my father called me and told me he had given you my phone number. I didn’t bother to tell him you already knew it,’ she slotted in sarcastically. ‘Then he told me everything.’
‘Everything? And you still think you have a choice?’ he queried, his dark eyes holding her.
‘Yes,’ she declared emphatically. ‘Apparently, you are renowned for cutting the workforce or closing a place down altogether when you take over a company, and he is worried about his job. He may not be much of a husband, but I can assure you my mother is in a private nursing home and he does pay the fees. Whatever else my dad is, he is a good accountant. In fact, I don’t know why you bothered coming here. We could just as easily have had this conversation over the telephone.’
Dark eyes full of contempt held hers for a long tense moment. ‘You amaze me,’ he finally drawled, and a frisson of alarm ran down her spine as his face darkened thunderously. ‘You really don’t give a damn.’
Pride made her face him, but inside she was shaking and her legs threatened to give way. ‘If you are referring to my father…not particularly,’ she responded, and she was not about to explain why. ‘Now, if there is nothing more, I would like you to leave.’
Not waiting for his response, she turned and crossed to the sofa. Picking up the remote control, she switched off the television. She needed to do something to escape Zac’s overpowering physical presence, and just prayed he would go—before her legs gave way beneath her and she collapsed in a heap at his feet.
‘There is something more,’ he said bitingly, turning his black head with chilling slowness to look at her with hard dark eyes. ‘A lot more,’ he added, walking towards her. ‘The not inconsiderable sum of over one million pounds, stolen from the company, and how you can continue to live the way you do with your father in prison.’
Chapter Seven
PRIDE held Sally’s head high, though the mention of a million pounds and prison had shocked her to the core. Her father was a fool over women, but she had never thought he was a thief. But then she had no idea to what depths he could sink in pursuit of his sybaritic lifestyle. She wouldn’t put anything past him…
‘Perfectly,’ she answered Zac’s question. ‘Contrary to what you believe, my farther does not give me a penny and nor would I want him to. I can’t stand him. He is everything I loathe in a man—a chauvinistic, womanising, unfaithful creep. Unfortunately, my mother loves him, and I love my mother, so I am obliged to be civil to him but that is all. I would not throw him a lifebelt if he was drowning, so whatever he has done is of no consequence to me,’ she declared, letting all her anger and bitterness at her father spill out. ‘I have taken care of myself for years now, and will continue to do so.’
‘How?’ His upper lip curled in a sneer. ‘On your back?’
Her hand shot out and slapped his arrogant face. ‘How dare you?’ she spat, and hysterical laughter bubbled up inside her. She sounded like an outraged virgin…which she was.
His head jerked back in surprise, and before she knew what was happening he caught her shoulders and dragged her towards him.
‘No one strikes me and gets away with it,’ he grated through his teeth. ‘Consider yourself lucky. If you were a man I’d have knocked you cold by now.’ His dark eyes leaping with barely controlled rage, he added with deadly emphasis, ‘But there are alternatives.’
Sally’s pulse raced and she began to panic, seeing the menace and the threat of violence in his body. Frantically, she lashed out and tried to punch him, but his hands slipped down her back, pinioning her arms at her sides. His dark head bent and his mouth caught hers to inflict its own powerful method of retaliation.
She tried to twist her head away from his ruthless searching mouth, but Zac was stronger, and he kept her trapped against him, unable to escape the vengeful dominance of his savage kiss.
When he finally stopped ravaging her mouth she was left gasping for breath, her legs like rubber. Still held against him, she could feel the heavy thud of his heart even as her own raced. Then something strange happened. Their eyes met and fused, and her heart leapt crazily at the predatory sexual aw
areness in his. She stared, wide-eyed, and to her shame it wasn’t disgust that made her tremble but the heat of arousal curling in her pelvis.
A fierce tension arced in the air between them. How did he manage to affect her like this? His touch was like being struck by lightning, igniting a flame inside her every time he came near her. Mortified by her own weakness, with a terrific effort of will she made herself rigid in his hold. But her control was not needed. As she watched his expression changed from primitive male aggression to one of icy control…he was every inch the hard-faced captain of industry once more.
His arms dropped to his sides and she was free, but she didn’t trust her legs to support her if she moved. Then he spoke.
‘So, Miss Paxton, back to business. How do you intend to honour the debt of one million pounds plus that your father embezzled from Westwold?’ he demanded, his cold, black eyes holding hers.
‘I don’t have to,’ she said, breathing fast. ‘It is not my debt.’
‘True, but much as you seem to dislike your father, and insist you do not need his money, apparently—as you confirmed—your mother is in an expensive nursing home and she does. Unless, of course, you earn enough to keep her as well as yourself.’
He raised a brow and took a step back, his gaze raking over her from top to toe, assessing her worth as if she was a slave on the block.
‘You are certainly beautiful enough on the outside, with all the attributes a man could want.’ He eyed her comprehensively again. ‘But you might have to work on your technique if the fiasco between us the other night was typical of your bedside manner.’
Sally stared in shock and outrage as the full import of his words sank in. Then her face paled to a deathly white as in her head flashed an image of her mother in bed, her once glorious red hair now a faded grey, her body half-paralysed. She had suffered more than any human being should have to endure, and no matter what Sally thought of her dad, she knew it would break her mother’s heart completely if her husband was branded a thief and sent to prison. She could not let it happen, and she could not deprive her mother of the care and comfort of the nursing home for whatever amount of time she had left.
Sally searched Zac’s harshly controlled features as if she had never seen him before. He had everything—looks, wealth and power—and he used it ruthlessly, looking down on lesser mortals like some pagan god.
Suddenly she was fed up and bristling with anger. She had always thought that a man who was dependent on the female members of his family to protect his honour didn’t have much of that commodity to start with. Yet here she was, she thought furiously, an intelligent, hardworking adult female, put in this invidious position by two men: her father, a spineless jerk, and Zac Delucca, a titan among men but with a positively medieval attitude.
‘For your information—’ she eyed him with contempt ‘—I have a full-time job in a museum, and while I am quite happy with what I earn, museums are not noted for extravagant salaries. So, no, at the moment I could not pay the nursing home fees,’ she told him bluntly, while silently racking her brain for a solution if her feckless father really was in deep trouble.
She had very little savings, and she spent any spare cash she had on her mother. Paying for accommodation every weekend to be near her was not cheap, but if she managed to sell her apartment she could use the money she gained to pay for her mum and rent somewhere else. So far she had received one ridiculously low offer from a property developer, which she had refused, but now she would accept it, she decided.
‘But if you give me time a month or so I could afford to support my mum.’ It suddenly occurred to her that her dad could do the same—sell his grandiose apartment and pay Delucca back. ‘And if you drop the charges against Dad between him and I we could almost certainly pay you back.’ She had to think positive. Anything else was too degrading.
‘Interesting, but no. Your father has stolen from the company for years, and he has run out of time.’
For a defeated second it occurred to her that if her mother died quickly the problem would disappear. ‘Oh, my God,’ she groaned, despising herself for the horrific thought.
Zac took her chin between a finger and thumb and tilted her head up to face him.
‘Praying will not help you, Sally, but I might!’ His heavy-lidded eyes glinted with a calculating light. ‘I could be persuaded, with the right encouragement, to accept the monetary loss and refrain from charging your father with theft and so keep him out of prison.’
His hand slipped from her chin to curve around her throat, and a strong arm closed around her waist to pull her into contact with his long, hard body. There was no mistaking his meaning.
‘If you are really good I will allow him to draw his present salary—in a more menial position, of course—until he reaches the retirement age of sixty, in twelve months, and I will also allow him to keep his generous pension, both of which he would forfeit if found guilty of fraud. With the money he has stolen it should be more than enough to allow him to fulfil his commitment to his wife.’
The blood drained from her face, and she was trembling with a mixture of fear and fury at his insulting proposal. ‘You bastard!’ Her blue eyes flashed at him.
‘Such language for a lady—you do surprise me, Sally,’ he mocked. ‘And I am not, in the true sense of the word. My parents are long dead, but they were married when I was born.’
‘And I am not some wh-whore to—to—to…do…’ She stuttered to a stop—something she had not done since she was a child.
‘I never actually said you were.’ One dark brow arched sardonically, and a ruthless smile curved his sensuous mouth. ‘What I am proposing is quite straightforward. In exchange for my saving your father from prison and allowing him to stay in my employ, you will become my mistress.’
She swallowed hard, her strained features reflecting her shock and confusion. Zac could not be serious…
In fact, he could be lying about her dad. But then she remembered her father’s conversation earlier. He had said he had ‘overlooked’ a rule or two, as if it was nothing to worry about. She had assumed it was to do with his penchant for bedding his secretaries. ‘Is it true? About my father stealing?’ she asked in a low voice.
‘I do not lie, Sally. Your father has been swindling the company regularly for years, extremely cunningly. The amounts he took were small enough to be explained away as errors before I bought the company, but over a decade or more they became big enough to add up to a considerable sum. When Raffe took charge of the London headquarters he smelt a rat, but even he was not sure, and it took both of us to track where the money had gone,’ he responded with a wry twist of his lips. ‘So what is it going to be, Sally? Your father disgraced and broke, or you becoming my mistress?’
It was unthinkable. But deep down inside Sally knew he was telling her the truth. She also knew that for her mother’s sake she could not let her dad go to prison.
‘Why me?’ she murmured to herself. Didn’t she have enough to suffer, watching her mum dying? And now she had no choice but to agree to Zac’s outrageous demand.
She wasn’t an idiot, and not for a minute did she kid herself he was doing it for anything other than revenge. A million pounds was small change to him. And she was no financial expert, but, if her dad had been stealing for years, surely technically it was the previous owner who had lost most of the money, not Zac? But the blow to his ego she had dealt him by saying no on Monday, and then insulting him in public last night, were not things a man like Zac Delucca was going to forgive and forget in a hurry.
‘Look at me.’ His arm tightened around her waist and the hand at her throat slipped around the nape of her neck to tilt her head up to face him. ‘You know why, Sally. I want you badly, and though you try your best to ignore the sexual chemistry between us you want me. If this is the only way to have you, then so be it.’
She had not realised she had spoken out loud, and she opened her mouth to deny his assumption. But his mouth had found he
rs, and, unlike their previous kiss, his tongue was gently outlining her lips and then probing into the warm interior of her mouth with a persuasive eroticism that totally enthralled her.
Desire and disgust fought for supremacy in her shattered mind. Desire won as a surging tide of excitement swept though her still shaken body. She must not let him know how easily he could affect her, she told herself, but involuntarily she leant against his hard frame, her pulse beginning to beat like a drum in her throat as she surrendered to his expert seduction of her senses.
‘Has that helped you to decide, cara mia?’ His husky chuckle sounded against her ear long, passion-filled moments later.
He knew he had won, Sally thought helplessly as she forced herself to struggle out of his arms. Her legs no longer capable of supporting her, she finally collapsed onto the sofa behind her.
Zac looked down at her, and she saw the knowing smile of masculine triumph curving his mobile mouth. He knew he could elicit a sensual response from her with humiliating ease, and his eyes challenged her to deny it…
She wanted to say no. She opened her mouth to do so—and closed it. Damn him to hell, she swore under her breath, and clasped her hands in her lap to stop them shaking. She stared down at them, unconsciously gnawing on her bottom lip, while her mind spun frantically as she sought for inspiration to escape what was virtually a hopeless position. Finally she took a long resigned breath, her decision made…
She would do anything for her mother, and if that meant saving the neck of her father by sleeping with Zac, she would do it. She glanced around the room, and the irony of the situation hit her.
How appropriate…Her dad’s love-nest…and now hers…
A fatalistic calm swept over her, soothing her nerves and clearing her head. She was twenty-six next month, and with her father as an example she had no intention of ever marrying. As for falling in love, she only had to look at what it had done to her mother to dismiss the idea completely. Maybe it was time she took a lover, and, being brutally honest, she had no doubt Zac Delucca would be a magnificent one. She only had to remember the time she was naked in bed with him to know that. But pride and pride alone insisted that while accepting his offer she would do her utmost to remain unresponsive in his arms. A man of his ego would soon grow tired of a reluctant mistress…
Untamed Italian, Blackmailed Innocent Page 8