As Esmerelda had whisked her underwear away with the rest of her clothes, Elena reluctantly donned the accompanying shorts. They swamped her.
Holding the shorts up to stop them falling down and trying to forget she had Gabriele’s scent clinging to her, she set out to find him.
Retracing the route through the cavernous interior, she found her way to the top deck. She stood at the rail that overlooked the pool deck below, was about to turn back when a figure in the pool made her do a double-take.
Instinct told her it was Gabriele powering his way through the water.
For some incredibly strange reason her heart accelerated, her hold on the rail tightening.
Up and down he swam, his back muscles rippling with the movement. No wonder he had such a fabulous physique...
He reached the end but instead of doing an immediate about-turn and setting off again as he had done thus far, he twisted round and looked up.
Mortified to have been caught...admiring him... Elena went to step back but stopped herself in time. Hiding would only confirm that she’d been spying.
Instead, she held her head high and walked down the wide stairs to the pool deck. By the time she’d reached the bottom Gabriele had hauled himself out of the pool and was rubbing a towel over his face.
Dear Lord...
With the water dripping off his honed bronzed skin and nothing but a pair of tight black swim shorts on with a definite bulge in them...
Feeling her cheeks turn scarlet, Elena hurried to take a seat at a table where a jug of water and a couple of glasses had been laid.
From the corner of her eye she saw him methodically dry himself before slinging the towel over his shoulder and joining her.
He flashed a quick smile and poured them both a drink.
‘Do I assume your reappearance means you have come to a decision?’ he asked, placing her glass before her.
‘Not quite.’ She took a drink of the cold water, wiped her mouth with her thumb and took a deep breath. ‘There are some things we need to discuss first.’
‘Such as?’
‘If I agree to marry you, I want a signed agreement that all the so-called evidence you have against my father will be destroyed.’
‘The contract being drafted has that specified.’
‘You’re drafting one already?’
‘Yes. It will set out in black and white exactly what this marriage will be so there is no room for doubt on either side.’
‘Isn’t that rather presumptuous? I haven’t said yes.’
‘You will,’ he said with an arrogant shrug.
She sucked in air through her teeth and willed herself not to bite.
‘Your father’s liberty depends on it,’ he added.
Growing up in an all-male household, Elena was well used to the male ego. Any man stupid enough to think she was inferior because of her gender or size soon learnt the error of his ways. It had delighted her father that his little princess was brainier than her brothers—admittedly not hard—and had never lost a physical fight against any of them either.
In the Ricci household you learnt to take care of yourself from a very young age.
Gabriele’s arrogance—different from her brothers’ and far more acute—was just another thing to add to the list of things to despise about him.
‘Will I be expected to give up my job?’
‘No, but I will expect you to make concessions on your workload as I will have to make concessions on mine. For our marriage to be believable we will have to marry our diaries as well as ourselves.’
She eyed him with a suspicious glare. ‘And that will be in the contract?’
‘Yes. Anything else?’
‘Your demand for me to have your child is abhorrent and not something I can agree to.’
‘Let me be clear about a couple of things.’ Gabriele leaned forward, taking in the whiteness of her face. ‘My only reason for marrying you is to hurt your father. You know as well as I do that our marriage will crush him. You carrying a Mantegna child will be the ultimate destruction for his pride.’
‘You can’t bring a child into a marriage like this,’ she said hotly. ‘It’s immoral.’
‘A Ricci lecturing me on morals?’ He raised a brow and tutted.
‘Why would you even want to have a child with me? You hate me. You could have a baby with anyone.’
‘But I don’t want anyone. I want you.’
Her slim shoulders rose. ‘Why?’
‘When my father and I were arrested four years ago, I was engaged to be married. I pleaded guilty to save my father’s neck but Sophia, my fiancée, chose not to believe that or believe me. She couldn’t handle the media scrutiny and the associated shame it brought on her and ended our relationship. Believe me, I will never trust another woman again. After what your father did I will not trust anyone. I am the last of my line. You having my child will mean the Mantegna name lives on.’
Merely thinking about Sophia made him feel sick. She’d broken their engagement in a clinical fashion that hadn’t left him devastated for the loss of her love but furious that he had ever believed in it. He couldn’t believe he’d been ready to commit his life to such a disloyal, spineless creature. Thankfully there had been no time to brood; his overriding priorities at the time being to stop Mantegna Cars being pulled under and to protect his parents. That he’d only succeeded in the former was something he would live with for the rest of his life.
‘And you could love a child with Ricci blood in it?’ Elena challenged.
He shrugged. ‘The child will be half Mantegna. That will dilute the impact.’
‘What a disgusting thing to say.’
‘I’m merely being honest. If you agree to this marriage then I don’t want there to be any room for misunderstandings. Any child we have would be an innocent in all this and I do not hurt innocents.’
‘You’re hurting me.’
‘You’re not an innocent.’
She flinched and squeezed her eyes shut but he ignored her distress.
If she was anyone other than Ignazio’s daughter and favourite, closest child, he would feel sorry for her.
Then again, if she was anyone else he wouldn’t dream of the actions he was taking.
Elena was a special case.
Elena had watched his father be accused of a crime she knew damn well her own father had committed. She had seen Gabriele take the rap, had seen the worldwide media coverage, had likely seen the footage of him entering the federal prison system, and seen, mere days later, the coverage that his father’s great heart had given up on him. And through it all, she’d said nothing.
She’d allowed his father to die with his only child imprisoned for a crime her own father had committed and his wife all alone in a country whose language she had never quite mastered. And she’d done nothing.
As far as he was concerned she was as guilty for his father’s death as Ignazio, and he wouldn’t rest until every single Ricci had paid the price for their heinous lies and betrayal.
If she wanted to know what real pain was she should walk in his shoes for an hour.
‘Our marriage will last for as long as it takes to conceive and then we will go our separate ways.’
Her face went even whiter, her horror stark. ‘You would take a child away from its mother?’
‘I’m not the monster in this relationship,’ he said. ‘I’d be willing to have joint custody but the condition would be that it has no contact with any member of your family.’
‘You are a monster,’ she spat. ‘How you can even think about bringing a child into the world under such conditions...’
‘Nevertheless they are my conditions. Take it or leave it. I want a child. I want revenge. I can marry those two desires by marrying
you. And look on the positives of having my child—as soon as you’re pregnant you’ll have outlived your usefulness and I will set you free. It is up to you. Or you can take your chances with the law.’
‘Let’s say for argument’s sake that I do agree to have a baby with you.’ Desperation laced her husky voice. ‘How are you going to have...have...sex with a woman you hate?’
‘Are you really that naïve about the workings of a man?’ he mocked. ‘Our libidos tend to work independently from our brains. You’re not a bad-looking woman. I’m sure making a baby with you won’t be too much of a hardship.’
If Elena had anything else to say she must have become incapable. Her eyes were wide and full of fury and outrage.
‘It is best our cards are laid on the table,’ he said. ‘And now that you know where you stand on everything, have you come to a decision? Will you marry me?’
Her lips pulled together. He could hear her breathing.
‘As long as that contract guarantees you will not take my baby away from me and as long as it guarantees you will destroy the alleged evidence and that you will stop the whispering campaign you’ve been conducting against my family then yes, I will marry you.’
He allowed himself the satisfaction of a smile.
But Elena wasn’t finished.
Hands clenched into balls, she said, ‘But you have to buy me a house in Florence and one close to your home in New York.’
‘What on earth for?’
‘If we’re sharing custody it means I can always be close to our child whenever it’s with you and be there if it needs me.’
He was surprised to find she had some latent maternal genes in her.
‘And I want it stipulated, in black and white, that you will never bad-mouth me or my family to our child.’
From the look on Elena’s face, Gabriele judged this was the deal breaker. He had to admire her. She had spirit. And, despite being a Ricci, compassion for a child who hadn’t yet been created.
‘Okay,’ he agreed with a lazy shrug. ‘I can agree to that.’
‘I want it written in the contract.’
‘Consider it done.’
‘Good. But just so you know, you’re not the only one who can hold a grudge and wish for vengeance.’ She rose from her chair and leaned forward so her furious eyes were mere inches from his. ‘When this is over I will personally see that you pay. There will not be a minute of the day when you don’t regret what you’ve done to me. I will see you burn in hell for this.’
Unexpectedly, something cold raced up his spine.
‘I’m already in hell,’ he said bitterly. ‘Your father put me there.’
Her top lip curled. ‘Then I will make it my mission in life to keep you there.’
CHAPTER FOUR
THE SOUND OF a helicopter flying overhead made Elena shade her eyes and look to the skies.
She was sitting on the balcony of her cabin, exactly where she’d been for the past two hours since she’d walked away from Gabriele, before she’d given into the temptation to punch him in the face.
Never in her entire life had she hated someone. Never in her entire life had she felt so, so, so...much towards another person.
Her early childhood had been spent rallying against the injustice of being the only female in a household of males. She had come to realise the only way to get their respect was to behave like them. She might have been home educated, unlike her brothers who were sent to smart schools, and she might have been sheltered from the outside world, but within the household she had turned her anger to her advantage and become one of the boys. She had forced her brothers’ respect and at the same time gained her father’s.
Now she felt as helpless and angry as she had at the age of ten when she’d finally comprehended that the education she dreamt of, one where she could be with other girls her age, had been denied her. Even now she still struggled with other women. She just couldn’t relate to them. First kisses, first attempts at putting make-up on, everything that went with being a female adolescent had been denied her. She had learned to embrace it.
Well she wouldn’t embrace this situation. Gabriele would pay for this. She didn’t know how or when or...anything, but she would make him pay.
She couldn’t even think about what it would mean to have his child.
A child. A baby. The one thing she’d never thought she would have.
Having intended to spend her life as a Vestal Virgin, Elena had reconciled herself to never having a child of her own. Her brothers had taken too much glee in sharing salacious stories of their conquests. She’d listened to all the sordid details and heard their obvious contempt for the women who were always, without exception, referred to as whores.
By the time she’d turned fifteen Elena had known she would rather stay a virgin than be subjected to that kind of disgusting treatment. She would never allow herself to be treated as a piece of meat. Yes, there were ways to conceive a child that didn’t involve getting physical with a man, but they weren’t ways she could bring herself to consider.
A knock on the cabin door brought her out of her reverie.
She unlocked it and found Gabriele standing there, a thin document file in one hand, the case she’d taken to Nutmeg Island in the other.
‘Where did you get that?’ she asked, amazed.
‘I had it couriered to my assistant. She brought it on the helicopter.’
‘But how?’
‘A friendly police officer retrieved it.’ He smiled a secret smile. ‘Carter’s gang disabled the security monitors before you arrived. All your security team saw on their screens was the feed from the day before. No one knows you were on the island and I would imagine the gang won’t mention it unless they want to add assault and attempted kidnap to their list of charges.’
Immediately her blood pressure rose. ‘So they get away with it?’
‘Not at all.’ A darkness crossed his features. ‘They will pay for it. They were arrested before they could leave the island and can all look forward to a hefty sentence in a prison that will make the one I was incarcerated in look like a holiday camp.’
He threw a thin document file on her bed before she could argue any more about it. ‘Here’s the contract.’
‘You don’t waste time.’
‘Read through it, sign it and we can leave.’
‘Are we at Tampa Bay?’ She hadn’t seen any sign of land from her balcony.
‘No. You’ve already reached your decision so my helicopter will take us inland to my jet. My assistant and lawyer are waiting in the saloon—they’ll act as witnesses for the contract.’
‘You can’t expect me to sign it now?’
‘It’s written clearly and concisely. It won’t take you more than five minutes to read it.’
Giving him a baleful glare, Elena leaned over the bed to grab the file and see for herself.
As she turned back again, pulling the elegantly bound papers out, something about him made her stop.
There was an expression on his face she’d never seen before. A look in his eyes...
Heat pooled in her stomach and spread through her, climbing up to crawl through the veins in her face.
She’d taken his oversized shorts off the second she’d arrived back in her cabin.
She’d leaned over to grab the file totally forgetting she had no underwear on.
He’d seen her.
Gabriele’s breathing had become heavy, his eyes containing a blackness that was quite unlike the angry circles of ice he usually looked at her with.
Please, something, anything, swallow her up right now.
He’d seen her.
His throat moved and then he coughed and took a step back before pulling a small tube from his pocket. ‘This is some lotio
n for you to put on your wrists—it should help with the bruising.
‘I will leave you to dress and read through the contract.’ He no longer looked at her, his voice even deeper than normal. ‘I will send someone for you in thirty minutes.’
He didn’t wait for a response, throwing the tube on the bed and leaving the cabin in three long strides.
* * *
Gabriele concentrated hard on the conversation with his lawyer, discussing the finer details of the contract Milo had drafted for him.
Milo knew better than to try and talk Gabriele from the route he was taking. He had been his family’s lawyer for over two decades, and there was little about Gabriele that Milo didn’t know. It was this familiarity that made him sense the lawyer didn’t approve of this particular route.
Whether his lawyer approved was irrelevant. As for Anna Maria, his assistant, she was too well paid to have an opinion on anything.
His lawyer and assistant were the only people to know the truth and he intended to keep it that way. To the rest of the world, especially to Ignazio, his and Elena’s marriage would be the real deal.
It was only when Milo and Anna Maria both rose that he knew Elena had arrived.
Straight away his mind flashed to the image he’d been fighting not to see for thirty minutes.
The base of her bottom.
The base of her white, peachy, perfect bottom. The way it darkened at the base of the curve to show the promise of her hidden femininity.
One look and his pulse had paused for a heartbeat then surged into life, heat throbbing through his bloodstream.
He hadn’t had such a visceral reaction to a woman since his teenage years. Arranging his features into neutrality, he turned his head to see her standing by his chair. She’d changed into another pair of long, boyish shorts and a plain white T-shirt, her hair now neatly tied back.
Gabriele made the introductions.
She shook hands with them both before casting him with another of the baleful glares he was becoming accustomed to.
He waited until Milo and Anna Maria had left them alone before saying, ‘That is not the kind of greeting a man expects from his fiancée when in public.’
Wedded, Bedded, Betrayed Page 4