The Amalfitano's Bold Abduction (The Italian Billionaires Collection)

by Jennifer Blake

  She was no great believer in fate, either. Yet being here had a rightness that defied logic.

  She was worried about her belongings, her liability for the rental car and the damage it had done to the guard rail. She hated leaving Suzanne and Caryn hanging at the rented villa, uncertain of where she was or what was happening to her. And yet she had no driving need to flee back to the mainland.

  It was a conundrum that defied solution, no matter how hard she tried. When morning came, she had only lavender-blue circles under her eyes to show for her hours in bed.

  Among the cosmetics sent on Andrea’s orders was moisturizer that acted as light makeup and concealer. To that base she added peach lip gloss and brown mascara, and thought she managed to look halfway human. With her hair caught up in a ponytail held by a white elastic band, wearing white knee-length shorts with an aqua T-shirt with a woven neckline, she went in search of breakfast for herself and her faithful companion, Guaio.

  The cat ran ahead of her down the stairs, his tail high and brown tip waving over his back. He didn’t wait for her but continued along the downstairs hall in the direction of the kitchen. It seemed he might have a better idea of where to find food than she did.

  In the end, however, she had only to follow the wonderful aromas of coffee and rolls warm from the oven. It led her through the wide French doors thrown open to the morning breeze and out onto the terrace.

  Andrea looked up from the newspaper in front of him. A warm smile lighted his face. He folded the newsprint pages and laid them aside before rising to hold a chair for her.

  “How are you this morning? You slept well?”

  “I’m fine and I did,” Dana replied, since her mother always said a guest never complained. It was only a small white lie, after all, as the fresh sea breeze and warmth of the sun were already lifting her spirits.

  “Your shoulder is all right? No soreness or pain?”

  She shook her head, saved from a fuller reply by the arrival of Tommaso bearing a tray with fresh coffee, a personal basket of rolls for her as well as dishes of butter, fresh fruit and yogurt. He gave her a cheery buon giorno as he set off the items. That done, he shook out her napkin and draped it over her lap before pouring hot coffee and milk for her. Her murmured thank you was met with a grin before he stood back with his tray at his side.

  Andrea’s nod of dismissal seemed to disappoint the boy. His footsteps were much slower as he departed than when he arrived.

  Dana, glancing toward Andrea, caught him frowning after Tommaso. “What is it?”

  He turned his gaze to her then reached for his coffee cup. “Nothing, nothing at all. Guaio came down with you just now?”

  “He did, though he deserted me for the delights of the kitchen.”

  “You must not take it personally,” he said, his face grave though amusement gleamed in his eyes. “His litter box is in the laundry beyond it. Also his food as Luisa usually feeds him.”

  “He has been here before then.” She broke open one of the warm, crusty rolls, dabbed it with butter and took a small bite.

  “On many occasions with Bella. Until this year, she and Rico often spent their August holidays here on the island.”

  As Dana sat there with the Mediterranean spread out before her and its breeze caressing her face, the European habit of retreating from cities and towns for a month of relaxation at the sea shore seemed a fine habit. “Bella won’t be coming now?”

  “Legal matters concerning the divorce have detained her in the city, though she may get away later.”

  “The city?” She sipped her caffè e latte, enjoying the mingling of its flavor with that of the freshly baked rolls.

  “Naples. She and Rico have a house there, though he moved into an apartment a few weeks ago. She speaks of going to Rome as it will be a better center for her work. She designs knitting patterns for yarn companies.”

  “As a job, you mean?”

  A smile came and went across his face. “Her work is very good, quite fashionable, but she has no need to support herself. It is more an art form than a job.”

  “I suppose so,” Dana said shortly, while color seeped under her skin. “Where I come from, work is seldom an art.”

  “No, this I understand. Your life has been different.”

  She acknowledged the concept with a nod. “But I thought you said her husband accused her of turning Guaio into a champion show cat for the prize money.”

  “So I did. This is because he has never realized the extent of her participation in our father’s estate.”

  Dana stared at him for a long moment. “You mean your sister never told him?”

  “He never asked, but assumed he was the wealthier of the two of them, the breadwinner, as you would say. She allowed him to think so.”

  “Good grief, it’s no wonder they separated.”

  He lifted a dark brow. “Meaning?”

  “How could they ever expect to be happy with so many secrets between them?”

  “They are much in love—or were when they married. There was a time when they could not keep their hands off each other.”

  “But there’s more to marriage than love and great sex. It’s about sharing thoughts and feeling, goals and dreams. It’s being certain, no matter what happens, that the other person always means only the best toward you.”

  He opened his mouth to answer, but then snapped it closed without a sound. Pushing back his coffee cup, he sprang to his feet and walked out to the edge of the terrace. He stood there, feet spread and hands at his waist, staring at the horizon where the sea met the sky.

  In that same moment, Dana heard the humming noise that put him on alert. It was an aircraft, the sound of its engine rising as it came closer. She jumped to her feet and moved to Andrea’s side. Lifting her hand to shade her eyes, she followed his gaze.

  It was a small plane rather than a commercial air liner, a private twin engine job that appeared silver as it reflected the morning sunlight. It was coming in fast, holding on a course that would take it directly over the island and the villa.

  “They’re too low,” Dana said, almost to herself. “What are they doing?”

  “Inside,” Andrea rapped out in quiet command. “Go. Now.”

  She turned to him, but had no chance to question his meaning. He was already moving, wrapping a hard arm around her waist. He swept her with him back across the terrace, past their breakfast table under the pergola and into the villa. Just within the open door, he stopped and turned back to watch the plane with a scowl between his eyes.

  It zoomed overhead, so near the ground that the wind of its passage set the palm trees at the end of the house to thrashing. The rattle of their fronds sounded like a rainstorm for an instant, then died away as the plane banked and turned, heading back toward the mainland.

  “You think that was Rico’s men again?”

  The question was abrupt and just a little breathless as Dana spoke, partly from the quick run for cover, but also because she was standing in the protective circle of Andrea’s arm. Her hip and thigh pressed against his so she felt the electric sting of nerve endings firing along their entire length, while the grasp of his hand at her waist had possessive heat and firmness.

  “I don’t know, but I intend to find out,” he answered, turning his head to gaze down at her.

  “It seems senseless, just buzzing the villa. What on earth was the purpose?”

  “To discover if Bella is here, perhaps. Or if you are still with me after what took place yesterday afternoon.”

  “The pilot saw us, I think.” She could see herself reflected in his eyes, see the way his pupils darkened, dilating with the dimness here compared to the outside brightness, or perhaps with something more.

  “Probably.”

  “So now he knows. And Rico will know.”

  Andrea smiled, a slow and sensual movement of his mouth that held absolutely no humor. “Certo, cara. Now he will.”

  Chapter 6

  “Are yo
u sure it couldn’t have been something else,” Dana asked, her eyes like dark pools as Andrea gazed down at her. “I mean, you haven’t placed an order that was to be airlifted and dropped off?”

  “Such as?” He knew he’d done no such thing, but wanted to see what she would say.

  “How should I know? I’m not a billionaire with people waiting at my beck and call.”

  She put a hand on his chest and gave a slight push as she spoke. He ignored the hint that she would like to be released. The feel of her against him was too beguiling, too perfect to be ended before it was absolutely necessary. “I suspect there are those who would come if you called them.”

  “Which has nothing to do with the fact that someone may have been spying on us!”

  He enjoyed her attempts to be practical and severe almost as much as the soft color that spread over her cheekbones at such times. He was also enthralled by the soft curves that he could feel against his arm where he held her.

  “Don’t disturb yourself, cara,” he said. “I have ordered nothing, but we are in no danger.”

  “So you say.”

  “I do, at least for now.” He released her, though his muscles knotted with reluctance before they obeyed him. “But I think I must call Bella. I had intended to go today to Naples to see her, to discover what she may know about what’s happening. I would rather not do that now.”

  “You think the plane may come back?”

  “I prefer to take no chances.”

  She gave him a frown. “You think it might land—but I don’t remember seeing an airstrip.”

  “It’s on the far side of the island where the terrain is more suitable.”

  She gazed at him for a moment as if he had grown two heads. He fully expected her to ask if he kept a plane there, but she did not.

  “My father built it,” he said in answer to the question in her eyes. “It was trendy at the time, having a private plane and airstrip. For myself, I find the chopper more convenient.”

  “Oh, well, it’s nice to have a choice.”

  He disregarded the flippant tone of that comment, answering as if she had been perfectly serious. “Si, certo.”

  Andrea might have sought privacy for the call to Bella, but that meant leaving Dana alone after what had just happened. He didn’t believe she was really upset, but he wanted to keep her in sight. That was merely the act of a careful host, of course. There was nothing else to it whatever.

  He took out his phone retrieved last night from the table where Dana had left it. Avoiding her gaze, he thumbed in the number for his sister.

  Bella was just as horrified as might be expected to hear what had been happening; her cries of shock and outrage made him jerk the phone away from his ear. That Dana could hear every word out of his sister’s mouth went without saying. Though she might not understand entirely, or be familiar with the uncomplimentary names Bella applied to her husband, the gist of it was surely recognizable.

  “But what is this of an American woman. Andrea?” his sister demanded. “Tell me again why she is there with you. Is she most beautiful? Have you begun an affair with her?”

  “No and no,” he said firmly. “I told you it’s a matter of her safety.”

  “So you did. Yet I am astonished that you would take her with you to the island. This is a place for family, not for flirtations with a tourist. This is not like you, Andrea, not like you at all.”

  “I would not have needed to bring her here except for Rico.”

  “He is being a donkey's behind in Armani. I am out of patience with him, and so I shall tell him when I see him again. As for threatening my precious pet, I will chop off Rico’s favorite dangly bits if he harms a single whisker. Truly, I am so furious with him I am beside myself!”

  “Si, I can tell,” Andrea said, his voice dry as he watched Dana’s face to see if she had caught even a portion of this particular exchange. “But you will talk to him to see what he has been doing?”

  “You may be sure! And if I discover he has hired these thick-headed cretins to come after you, I will not be responsible for what I say or do!”

  “I’m not worried about them coming after me,” Andrea said as forcefully as he was able. “What Rico must understand is that Dana has no part in this. She is not to be touched or menaced in any way. If it continues, it is I who will not be responsible for my actions.”

  “Andrea, such passion! What has happened to you? Perhaps I should come to the island and see for myself.”

  “You will be disappointed. What you must do, my dear sister, is talk to your husband, make peace with him before someone gets hurt.”

  There was more in the same vein, but Andrea cut it off at last. Repeating his command, he ended the call. He stood weighing the phone in his hand for a moment before putting it away.

  Dana had walked away a bit to give him privacy. She said nothing when he turned to her, but stood hugging her arms around her as if chilled. The brown of her eyes was clear, the gray ring around the irises like small portals into her mind. She felt out of place, he suspected, in a country where she did not know the language, could not be expected to accept or understand volatile relationships full of fury and noise such as that between his sister and Rico.

  Dana appeared all calm logic on the surface, confident within herself, admirably steadfast in her belief about the partnership and dedication of marriage. He honored her for these things. She also seemed to know little about the burning needs and jealousies, the fears and resentments that could flare into violence between some couples. The fierce consummation of body and spirit that could blend souls seemed foreign to her.

  He suspected her serenity was on the surface only. She was more like the ancient volcano that brooded over the Bay of Naples, peaceful on the outside but with a fiery cauldron deep within. Such repressed needs and desires could build slowly, slowly until they were impossible to contain. It would be a lucky man who held her in his arms when their power was released.

  “Your shoulder,” he said, his voice unaccountably husky before he cleared his throat, “you changed the bandage this morning?”

  She shook her head. “It’s a bit awkward with one hand. I did try to keep it dry while I showered.”

  “Permesso, permit me, if you will.” He stepped closer to slide his fingers under the short sleeve of her T-shirt and push it higher. The knit was so fine and soft that it was easily moved out of the way. She jerked a little at his first touch, but he didn’t think it was because he hurt her. He was sure of it when she flushed and kept her gaze turned away from what he was doing.

  As carefully as possible, he peeled away the adhesive edges that held the bandage in place. The scratches appeared to be healing well, were already less red and angry looking than they had been the day before.

  “Will I live?” she inquired with more than a little tartness.

  “I believe so, though this bandage will need changing tonight.” He smoothed it back into place, holding her arm as he secured the edges again.

  “I’m sure I can manage.” Her hair shifted on her shoulders like auburn silk as she turned to meet his gaze.

  “But why should you, when I am here?” On an impulse he made no attempt to deny, Andrea bent his head and pressed his lips to the bandaged surface.

  When he straightened again, she was watching him with her lips parted and an odd, suspended look in her eyes. For long seconds, neither of them moved or breathed. He could see the russet shading of her lashes under the light layer of her mascara, the fine grain of her skin, the scattered ghost of freckles under her sheer makeup. The scent he had given her, subtle and fresh as a spring woodland yet delicately floral, was enhanced by her own unique fragrance. It made him want to step closer, to gather her against him and lose himself in her for the rest of the day.

  His hand on her arm tightened a fraction as he fought the urge. Her lashes came down and she removed herself from his grasp with a quick twist. “You should patent your bedside manner. You could make anothe
r fortune for yourself.”

  “Do you think so? It’s a pleasure to know you appreciate it.”

  “I didn’t say—”

  “But I think you did, cara. Though I must tell you I prefer to keep my patient list exclusive and—intimate.”

  She gave a choked laugh. “You are so full of it.”

  The need to show her exactly how intimate he wished to be was so strong his eyes watered with it, and with the drawing pain in the lower part of his body. It was all he could do not to snatch her close and press his mouth to hers, sliding his tongue between her parted lips to savor the warm sweetness of her. Would she respond or remove herself from his grasp yet again? He would give a lot to know.

  She was his guest, and a reluctant one at that. They had been through much together in a short time, but he was still a stranger to her. It would be wrong to take advantage of his position to start something between them, no matter how much his body applauded the idea. Besides, he preferred the women he took into his arms to be willing, even enthusiastic, participants.

  “And you are so easy to tease that it’s irresistible,” he answered before turning away from her. “But it appears our visitor may have flown away for good. We could, if you like, go down and bathe in the sea.”

  “And that will be just lovely, playing in water where gun-toting idiots in a boat can plow right over us without any trouble.”

  “The cove below the villa is not only private but concealed from all but a direct approach. It’s unlikely anyone will know we are there. And if they should discover it, we will have ample time to see them coming.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “You will enjoy the sea, and a little sun can be beneficial,” he said in persuasive tones. “A half-hour or hour will provide Vitamin D as well as giving you the nice beginnings of a tan.”

  The look she gave him was skeptical. “I don’t tan, I promise you. I freckle. Besides, I have no swimsuit.”

  “Was there none among the things delivered?”