Bound by the Italian's Contract

by Janette Kenny

  The secretary wrung her hands. “Yes, but I don’t think you should go— Wait! You can’t do that!”

  But he was already through the door and closing it behind him, or trying to with the secretary fast on his heels. He stopped, his hungry gaze arrested by the sight of Caprice digging through the mountain of papers on her desk, looking harried and desirable.

  “Do you need something?” she asked, not looking up.

  “Mr. Duchelini is here,” the secretary said, shooting him a scolding look. “Luciano Duchelini.”

  Caprice jerked upright and stared at him, and the pain and worry in her eyes tore at something buried inside him he hadn’t known existed. “Why are you here?”

  “Julian asked me to come,” he said. “He caught a head cold that quickly infected his lungs. His physician advised him not to attempt the trip. He sends his regrets along with me.”

  The lips he hungered for pursed. “Fine. Now if you’ll excuse me—”

  “I need to talk with you alone first.”

  She looked up again, and this time he saw a mounting sense of urgency spark in her eyes. “Sorry. We go live in five minutes.”

  And with that she ran out the door, leaving him standing there like a fool. A rejected fool. With good reason, he realized as he stalked to the door to take his leave.

  He stopped dead in his tracks, hand on the brass knob. He’d accused her of running away from him and her feelings, but he’d been guilty of doing the same thing.

  Luc shook his head, finding it ironic that it had taken losing Caprice for him to finally rip his blinders off. He wasn’t backing down or away again.

  He trailed her to the great room, followed her onto the dais and took up a stance at the side behind the curtain, but the sudden flash of cameras en route proved many in the audience recognized him. So be it if this moment was recorded forever. Whatever the outcome, it would certainly leave an indelible mark on his memory and his future.

  “Thank you all for coming,” Caprice began. “If I could direct your attention to the screen above the hearth, we’ll run a short video depicting my program.”

  She moved to the opposite side of the dais, where a chair had been positioned for her behind a small curtain. Her gaze flitted once to his before the lights dimmed and the same video that had played at his grand opening began.

  As soon as the ten-minute video ended, the lights came on and Caprice returned to the podium to give the same abbreviated speech. Lines of stress radiated from her eyes and mouth, and her stance was noticeably stiffer.

  Luc frowned, alert to the rising sense of urgency Caprice projected.

  “Any questions?” she asked.

  “Is Luciano Duchelini involved in the day-to-day running of Tregore Lodge or is he just your backer?” a reporter asked.

  She fidgeted with her notes. “My business association with la Duchi is not on the agenda for discussion. Next question,” she said, pointing to another person.

  The next twenty minutes she fielded random questions about the renovations and her program. “Any more?” she asked, allowing an overly long pause.

  She took a deep breath and heaved it out, and Luc did the same, feeling the tension roiling through her, fearful what had upset her so. “There’s one more thing I wish to touch on here. Take notes because I won’t be answering questions at this time.”

  Luc was on the dais and by her side in an instant, hearing the strain in her voice and fearing she was close to losing control. “What’s wrong?”

  “You’ll find out in a moment,” she whispered with a faint smile before sobering and facing the audience again. Luc stepped back out of the limelight, giving her the stage.

  “I wish to address this to all women in hopes it will keep another woman from living with the torment I have,” she said, her voice surprisingly strong and clear now. “Seven years ago I was the victim of a rape. Out of fear, humiliation and worry I kept that dark secret.”

  She paused when the audience murmured among themselves, waiting for them to quiet. “I don’t know if he attacked other women, and because he has since died I won’t reveal his name. But I urge any woman who has been victimized to step forward immediately and seek help. Don’t let one act of violence victimize you for life.”

  She stepped back, and he noted the barest tremble shake through her then and the audience stared at her in stark silence.

  Luc stepped forward, faced Caprice and began clapping. Soon others joined in until the room exploded with applause.

  “Thank you,” she said once more as she stepped to the mic. Then with a bow, she reached for his hand and he escorted her back to the privacy of her office.

  “That was extremely courageous of you,” he said.

  She shrugged. “It had to be said.”

  “I agree,” he said, uncertain how to begin something so vital when his senses were on overload just being so near her again. “I’m very proud of you.”

  She glanced up at him and flushed a lovely pink, a nervous smile playing over the lips he longed to claim. “Thanks. Is there something you needed?”

  Just the opening he needed. “Yes, you. Come back to Italy with me.”

  She stiffened. “I have a business to run.”

  “You could do that from Italy.”

  She slapped her palms flat on her desk. “I won’t be your mistress, Luciano.”

  He nudged her chin up despite her attempt to pull away from him. “I wouldn’t dream of asking that of you. My God, Caprice, I love you deeply. I want you with me. Is that so hard to understand?”

  “What did you say?” Caprice sputtered.

  “Bella, you are my world. My present. My future. I never realized what love was until you opened your heart to me.” And as tears slipped from her eyes, he came around her desk and dropped onto one knee, his gaze riveted on the strong woman before him. “I love you, Caprice Tregore. You have stolen my heart, and I am nothing without you.”

  “I love you, too,” she said, stepping closer to him, both trembling hands resting on his shoulders now.

  In a blink her world narrowed to this moment. This man. This door opening to the future she’d dreamed of having and feared would never come about.

  Luc smiled, his spirits lightening, realizing he was actually happy. The fear, the apprehension vanished. Absolutely nothing in his life had ever felt so right. So freeing. So perfect. Not the competitions that had challenged his mind and body on the slopes. Not the conquests he’d made in business or pleasure.

  This was real and he wanted it. Wanted her, now and forever. “Marry me, Caprice. Make me a happy man.”

  “You’re serious,” she said, half sobbing, half laughing. “You really want a marriage with a house and children and a forever kind of love?”

  “Yes, I want a real marriage with you as well as children to start the next generations of Duchelini champions,” he said with a grin. “Your answer?”

  She choked out a sob, fingers pressed to her lips, and then slowly gifted him with a smile that made his heart swell with love he’d denied entrance to for years. “Yes,” she said, tugging him up into her open arms. “Yes.”

  He raised one brow, holding her close. “How about tomorrow?”

  “It’s a date,” she said.

  They chose the closest spot, flying out that night for Vegas to become husband and wife the next morning, photos taken of the kiss sealing their commitment at Tregore Lodge splashed on all the gossip magazines and newspapers.

  “No regrets?” she asked her new husband the second morning of their marriage.

  “Only one,” he said, pulling her luscious naked body against his, smiling to find her wet and ready for him again. “We waited too long.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me,” she said, kissing his chest, his chin before set
tling in for a long lusty kiss that left them breathless, prolonging the passion as long as they could.

  “Let’s keep it that way,” he said, and surrendered to the sizzling passion they had found in each other’s arms.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from A DEAL WITH DEMAKIS by Tara Pammi.

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Presents title.

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  Ten years ago one devastating night changed everything for Austin, Hunter and Alex. Now they must each play their part in the revenge against the one man who ruined it all.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  “MS. NELSON IS here, Nikos.”

  Nikos Demakis checked his Rolex and smiled. His little lie had worked, not that he had doubted it. Not an hour had passed since he had had his secretary place the call.

  “Instruct security to bring her up,” he said, and turned back to his guests.

  Another man might have felt a twinge of regret for having manipulated the situation to serve his purpose so well. Nikos didn’t.

  Christos, it was getting more unbearable by the minute to see his sister trail after her boyfriend, trying to make Tyler remember, and playing the role of the tragic lover to the hilt. Only instead of the usual volatility, Nikos was beginning to see something else in her gaze. Obviously he had underestimated how much power Tyler had gained over her. The announcement that they were engaged had stirred even his grandfather’s attention.

  * * *

  Just as Nikos had expected, Savas had laid down the ultimatum. Another excuse for the old tyrant to postpone declaring Nikos the CEO for Demakis International.

  Sort out Venetia and the company’s yours, Nikos. Take away her bank account, her expensive car and her clothes. Lock her up. She will forget that boy soon enough once she starts remembering what it feels like to go hungry again.

  Nikos’s gut roiled, just remembering Savas’s words.

  It was time to get the charming, manipulative Tyler out of her life. However, he had no intention of starving his sister to achieve that end. Nikos had done, and would do, anything for survival but hurt Venetia in any way. But the fact that Savas had not only considered it but dangled it like an option in front of Nikos, expected Nikos to put it into action, was unsettling in the least.

  His expression must have reflected his distaste, because Nina, the leggy brunette he usually got together with when he was in New York, slipped to the other corner of the lounge.

  “Ms. Nelson would like to meet you in the café across the street,” his assistant whispered in his ear.

  Nikos scowled. “No.”

  Bad enough that he would have to deal with not one but two emotionally volatile, out-of-control women in the coming days. He wanted to get this meeting done with as soon as possible and get back to Athens. He couldn’t wait to see Savas’s reaction when he told him of his triumph.

  He grabbed a drink from a passing waiter and took a sip of the champagne. It slid like liquid gold against his tongue, richer and better tasting for his sweet victory. Against Savas’s dire predictions that Nikos wouldn’t find an investor, Nikos had just signed a billion-dollar contract with Nathan Ramirez, an up-and-coming entrepreneur, by granting exclusive rights to a strip of undeveloped land on one of the two islands owned by the Demakis family for almost three centuries.

  It was a much-needed injection of cash for Demakis International without losing anything, and a long-fought chance that Nikos had been waiting for. This was one victory Savas couldn’t overlook anymore. His goal was so close that he was thrumming with the energy of it.

  But a month of intense negotiations meant he was at the tail end of the high. And his body was downright starved for sex. Swallowing the last sip of his champagne, he nodded at Nina. Ms. Nelson would wait.

  Just as they reached the door to his personal suite, the sound of a laugh from the corridor stalled him.

  He ordered Nina back into the lounge and walked into the corridor. The question for his security guard froze on his lips as he took in the scene in front of him.

  Clutching her abdomen, the sounds of her harsh breathing filling the silence around her, a woman knelt, bent over, on the thickly carpeted floor. His six-foot-two security guard, Kane, hulked over her, his leathery face wreathed in concern. The overhead ceiling lights picked out the hints of burnished copper in her hair.

  Nikos stepped closer, curiosity overpowering everything else. “Kane?”

  “Sorry, Mr. Demakis,” Kane replied, patting the woman’s slender back with his huge palm. A strange familiarity with a woman he’d just met. “Lexi took one look at the elevator and refused to use it.”

  Lexi Nelson.

  Nikos stared at the woman’s bowed head. She was still doubled over, slender shoulders falling and rising. “She did what?”

  Kane didn’t raise his head. “She said no one was forcing her into the elevator. That’s why she had me call you back asking you to meet her at the cafe.”

  Nikos tilted his head and studied the state-of-the-art elevator system on his right side. One sentence from her file popped into his head.

  Trapped in an elevator once for seventeen hours.

  Of course she could have turned around and left. His irritation only grew, a perverse reaction because her leaving wouldn’t serve his purpose at all. “She walked up nineteen floors?”

  Kane nodded, and Nikos noticed that even his breathing was a little irregular. “And you walked up the stairs with her?”

  “Yep. I told her she was going to collapse halfway through. I mean, look at her.” His gaze swept over her, a curious warmth in it. “And she challenged me.” He shoved her playfully with a shoulder, and Nikos watched, strangely fascinated. The woman unfolded from her bent-over stance and nudged Kane back with a surprising display of strength for someone so...tiny.

  “I almost beat you, too, didn’t I?” she said, still sounding breathless.

  Kane laughed and tugged her up, again his touch overtly familiar for a woman he met a mere twenty minutes ago. As she straightened her clothes, Nikos understood the reason for Kane’s surprise at her challenge.

  With her head hardly reaching his shoulder, Lexi Nelson was small. Maybe five feet one or two at best, and most of that was legs. The strip of exposed flesh between her pleated short skirt and knee-high leather boots was...distracting, to say the least.

  Her sho
ulders were slim to the point of delicate, her small breasts only visible because of her exertion. Wide-set eyes in her perfectly oval face, a dazzling light blue, were the only feature worth a second look. A mouth too wide for her small face, tilted up at the corners, still smiling at Kane.

  Honey-gold hair cut short to her nape, in addition to her slim body, made her look like a teenage boy rather than an adult woman. Except for the fragility of her face.

  The image of an Amazonian woman on her crinkled T-shirt—long-legged, big-breasted, clad in a leather outfit with a gun in her hand—invited a second look, and not only because of the exquisite detail of it but also because the woman in the sketch was a direct contrast to the woman wearing it.

  “Please escort Ms. Nelson into my office, Kane,” Nikos said. Her blue gaze landed on him and widened. “You are causing too much distraction here.” Her smile slipped, a tiny frown tying her brows. “Wait in my office and I will see you in half an hour.”

  He didn’t turn around when he heard her gasp.

  * * *

  Lexi Nelson snapped her mouth shut as Nikos Demakis turned around and left. He was rude, terse and had a spectacular behind—the errant thought flashed through her mind. Surprised by her own observation, she pulled her gaze upward, her breath still not back to normal. Powerfully wide shoulders moved with arrogant confidence.

  She hadn’t even got a good look at the man, yet she had the feeling that she had somehow angered him. She trembled as the elevator doors opened with a ping on her side. Ignoring Kane’s call, she marched down the path his rude boss had taken, wondering what she had done to put him out of sorts.

  She had walked up nineteen floors and had almost given herself a heart attack in the process. But she couldn’t risk leaving without seeing him, not until she knew how Tyler was. She had planned to dog his New York base the whole week, determined to get answers, until she had received a call from his secretary summoning her here. The moment she had introduced herself at the security desk and asked to see Mr. Demakis, she had been herded to the elevator which she had promptly escaped from.