Blackmailed by the Italian Billionaire

by Croft, Nina

  Luc’s long body sliced through the water, his movements swift and economical. He moved easily, fluid and graceful, and Lia was filled with the same awe she’d always felt in the past when watching a beautiful horse move. Well, she acknowledged honestly, not quite the same feeling.

  Luc came to a halt at the end closest to where she hovered, shuffling from foot to foot. Lia knew she should go but was quite unable to make herself do it. She told herself it was cowardly to run, that she had to get used to Luc if she was going to have any peace over the next few days or however long it took before he realized her father was a no-show. Mind you, she didn’t think she would ever get used to Luc looking like this, the water gleaming on the golden skin of his shoulders and chest.

  He wiped the water from his eyes. “Join me.”

  Lia shook her head. “I don’t have a suit.”

  “Neither do I,” he drawled.

  Definitely time to walk away, but again, she couldn’t bring herself to move. She stood glued to the spot as he pulled himself out of the water in one smooth motion, the muscles rippling under his honey-gold flesh.

  Her breath caught in her throat, and she stood there mesmerized, unable to glance away. He was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. And he was naked. Absolutely, unashamedly naked.

  He stood, almost seeming to pose for her, stretching his long, lean body sinuously, running his hands across his chest then through his dark, wet hair. She risked a glance at his face to find him watching her from deceptively sleepy eyes, a small smile playing across his lips. It was obvious he knew exactly how much she wanted him.

  Her gaze dropped over his broad, golden chest, sleek muscle under satin skin, down his flat belly, lightly furred with dark silky hair. She blinked as she rapidly skimmed over where that silky hair flared out to form a nest for his manhood. He was stirring in that dark nest of curls, thickening, and her eyes widened before she squeezed them tightly shut. Her whole body reacted to the knowledge that he was becoming aroused—tightening, melting. She shifted and only reopened her eyes when she was sure they were pointed firmly at the ground. She stared at his feet; even his toes were beautiful—long and tanned and perfectly manicured.

  He had no right to be so perfect.

  “I need a cup of coffee,” she said, her eyes back to his face, but carefully bypassing the bit in the middle.

  “The machine’s in the kitchen,” he said soothingly. “There was no need for you to come out here.”

  She didn’t want to be soothed. “I don’t know how to turn it on.”

  He sighed, but picked up a towel from a nearby chair and rubbed it roughly over his hair leaving it tousled, then blotted the water from his body before securing it around his lean hips, the white of the towel contrasting with his dark golden skin. Lia watched through narrowed eyes.

  “Coffee?” he said when she didn’t move.

  “Can’t you put some clothes on?”

  “Coffee or clothes?”

  She turned and went back to the kitchen. He followed, still clad only in his towel. Lia watched his movements, trying to pay attention so she could do it herself next time; the less interaction she had with Luc the better. He was not good for her equilibrium. But as the smell of fresh coffee infiltrated the room, she started to relax. Finally, he put a large, steaming mug in front of her, and she sighed blissfully, closing her eyes, and breathing in the wonderful scent.

  “So, you’re not a morning person then?”

  She took a sip. “What makes you say that?”

  He smiled and took a seat at the huge table next to her. His long, bare legs stretched out in front of him, almost touching hers.

  “Did you sleep well?” he asked.

  “Okay. Something woke me early.”

  “Probably me coming back.”

  “It was five in the morning.”

  “Definitely me coming back.”

  She studied him closely. Now that she looked, his eyes were a little bloodshot. “Did you go out last night?”

  “Yes.”

  “You were drinking?”

  He grinned. “Like a fish.”

  Despite the bloodshot eyes, he looked remarkably well for a man who presumably had had no sleep last night. Lia regarded him balefully while trying to avoid staring at his naked chest. But it was impossible. There was too much of it. He appeared strong, not bulky like the sort of guys who worked out, but sleek and hard-muscled like a racehorse. She could clearly see his ribs under golden skin like satin. His chest was smooth except for tufts of dark silky hair over dusky male nipples, and down below his navel a line that disappeared enticingly beneath the white towel. But she wasn’t going to go there.

  “I phoned Maggie,” Luc said, making her jump and spill her coffee. She glanced up at his face to find him watching her, a small smile curling his lips.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Maggie. She’ll be here at ten.”

  “Do we have to do it today if the party’s not for over a week? I don’t like shopping much.”

  “All women like shopping.”

  Lia shook her head. “That is such a sexist comment. I happen to know lots of men who like shopping.”

  Truth be told, she was intrigued to meet someone who had known Luc’s family. Maybe she could learn something useful, discover why he was so determined to find her father, why he was such an ass. She sat and sipped her coffee, tried to ignore the almost naked man next to her. It was impossible. After a few minutes, he drained his cup and stood up.

  “You want some breakfast?” he asked.

  She eyed him suspiciously. “You’re offering to make me some?”

  “Actually, I cook a mean omelet, and I need to eat.”

  “Soak up the alcohol, you mean?”

  “Maybe.” He thought for a moment, rubbed a finger down the spot between his eyes. “Definitely.”

  “Go ahead then. I want to see this.”

  She reached across and poured herself another coffee, then watched as he collected the ingredients from the huge fridge. He’d said last night that he could make coffee, but it was obvious he knew his way around the kitchen.

  “So where did you learn to cook?” she asked.

  He glanced around from where he was frying bacon, the delicious scent filling the room. “My father believed that cooking was women’s work. Unfortunately, my mother had been brought up in a household that believed cooking was the housekeeper’s work.”

  “She was rich?”

  “Her family was…quite wealthy. They didn’t approve of my father, and I don’t remember her having any contact with them at all back then. She was a stubborn woman. Anyway, we ate a lot of takeout while I was growing up. If I wanted anything at home, I had to cook it myself.”

  Five minutes later, he placed two perfectly cooked, fluffy, golden omelets on the table and pushed one in front of her, before resuming his seat and picking up his fork.

  Lia waited a moment, then picked up her own and took a bite. It was delicious. “Wow,” she said. “I can’t even make toast.”

  “And what’s your excuse?”

  “Well, we weren’t rich but we did have a housekeeper.”

  They ate in almost companionable silence. Like a couple. The thought brought her up short. If she wasn’t careful, she would forget that the only reason she was here was because Luc was blackmailing her. For some reason, he was being charming. But why should she believe that the Mr. Nice Guy act was the real Luc any more than the wicked blackmailer? Obviously, he was willing to go to any lengths to get her cooperation—even cooking for her. No doubt, it was a devious plot to lull her into a false sense of security with his fabulous culinary skills, while turning her mind to mush by flaunting his nearly naked body in that tiny white towel.

  Not going to happen. She was made of sterner stuff.

  She put down her fork slowly, and Luc glanced up from his own food.

  “Thank you. I’m full,” she said.

  He raised an eyebrow, b
ut didn’t question her, just finished his food and pushed back his chair. “I have to go to the office. I’ll be out all day, but I’ll see you this evening for dinner.”

  She nodded, letting out a sigh of relief as he left the room.

  Chapter Nine

  The doorbell rang. It was just after ten. This must be my babysitter for the shopping trip. Obviously, Luc thought she was quite incapable of selecting an appropriate dress herself.

  When she opened the door, a woman stood outside, her finger poised to ring again. A smile flickered across her lips, but her eyes remained cool. “You must be Olivia?”

  “Yes, but call me Lia, please.”

  “I’m Maggie,” the woman said. “Luc asked me to come over. He said you need help shopping.”

  Maggie was a very attractive woman, probably in her mid to late forties; it was hard to tell, she was so well groomed, her hair and makeup flawless. Tall—as tall as Lia—and slender in cream capri pants and a sapphire silk shirt, which matched her dark blue eyes. Her blond hair was exquisitely cut in a shoulder-length bob.

  She was returning the interest, though the look she sent Lia’s way was not entirely friendly.

  Lia realized she was staring. “I need a dress. For a party.”

  “So Luc said.”

  Lia frowned; definitely not friendly. She so didn’t need this hassle on top of everything else. “If this isn’t convenient for you…”

  Maggie shook her head. “I’m sorry. I was just thinking how like your mother you are.”

  “You knew my mother?”

  “Not well. She didn’t mix with the likes of me in those days.”

  “My mother was a bit of a snob.” Lia smiled ruefully.

  Maggie cocked her head to one side. “What did Luc tell you about me?”

  “Not much. Just that you were a friend of his mother’s when she lived in London.”

  Maggie smiled. “That will do for the moment. Come on, let’s shop.”

  Lia went and picked up her jacket from the chair in the hall. “I don’t have much money,” she said as she followed Maggie to the elevator.

  “Don’t worry. Luc’s sorted that out.”

  Lia stopped moving, her shoulders stiffening. “I can’t let him buy my clothes.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well…”

  “Look Lia, from what I understand, you’re doing Luc a favor—”

  “No—”

  “And from what I gather, the clothes we’re buying won’t be useful when you go back home. So just accept them as a gift and enjoy it.”

  The concierge held the door for them as they exited the apartment building. Maggie hovered for a moment outside. “Would you like to get a cab or walk?” she asked Lia.

  “Walk.” She was used to being more active, and some physical activity might ease her restlessness. Besides, she was eager to see some of the city. This was a far different place from the seedy area she’d wandered into three weeks earlier looking for The Crazy Frog.

  Here, the streets were wide, edged with tall, elegant buildings intersected with formal areas of gardens, giving the impression of vast luxury and affluence. She couldn’t remember much of the city from when she was a child, and suddenly she was filled with excitement just to be here. Why not take advantage of her forced vacation? See some of the sights; Buckingham Palace wasn’t far, then there was the Tower, and the London Eye. She could take one of those open-topped double-decker bus tours just like a real tourist…

  Soon the residential area gave way to shops, and their steps slowed as Lia peered into all the different windows. The clothes were gorgeous, but she couldn’t imagine herself living the sort of life where such things mattered. Finally, Maggie came to a halt outside a huge department store. Harrods had been her mother’s favorite shop. Lia had never been, but now she pushed through the revolving doors and stepped inside.

  …

  Hours later, Lia collapsed into a seat at a table in the Terrace Bar on the fourth floor of Harrods. Her feet were killing her, but she was surprised to find she’d actually enjoyed herself. Hopefully it was just novelty value, as she was sure it could become a very expensive hobby.

  Maggie ordered lobster Caesar salad and champagne cocktails for both of them. “Here’s to rich men,” she said, lifting her glass. “May they never run out of money.”

  Lia raised her glass and clinked it against Maggie’s. She had come to appreciate the other woman’s sense of humor over the past couple of hours; Maggie was quick-witted, kept up a constant stream of incisive comments about the other customers, and she definitely knew about clothes. The dress she had chosen for Lia was perfect; even Lia could see that. It was long, very simple, and midnight blue, which according to Maggie brought out the color in her eyes.

  Lia took a sip of the icy cold drink. It was delicious. She put down her glass. “So Maggie, did you know my father?”

  “Not really.” Maggie’s tone was wary.

  “But you must have, if you knew my mother.”

  “I told you—I knew of your mother—I didn’t know her. Look, love, I’m sorry, but I can’t talk about your father.”

  Lia’s brows drew together. “Why not?”

  “Let’s just say I made a promise and leave it at that.”

  “A promise? To whom?” It was a stupid question, really. Who could it have been but Luc?

  “Change the subject, Lia.”

  Obviously, she was going to get nothing out of Maggie about her father. Why had Luc told her not to talk about him? Why was it such a big secret?

  “So tell me about Luc’s mother then. Luc said you were friends.”

  “Isabella was a beauty.” Maggie was obviously happy to talk about Luc’s family if not Lia’s. “She was wasted on Luc’s dad. Her family pretty much disowned her, or she disowned them, when she took up with him.”

  “What was his father like?”

  “No good. He was also married at the time, never did get around to marrying Bella. But she loved him. He had some of Luc’s looks—his eyes.” She shivered dramatically. “A woman would put up with a lot of crap for eyes like those, not to mention the rest of his assets.”

  “It sounds like you knew her really well.”

  “Yeah, well, Bella wasn’t like your mum, she was real friendly. She didn’t mind what I was.”

  Lia studied her curiously. “Just what was it you did back then, Maggie?”

  “I was a prostitute, and not a particularly high-class one at that.” She smiled at Lia’s obvious shock. “Close your mouth, Lia.”

  “But…” She tried to marshal her thoughts. “But you’re so…classy.”

  “Thanks, but I wasn’t always like this. It was Luc who helped me. When he started making money, he helped all his old friends. All the people who had stood by him when he got into trouble.”

  “Trouble?” That sounded interesting. “What sort of trouble?”

  Maggie shifted and glanced away. “Oh, nothing bad. Luc just went a little wild after his father died, but he soon settled down. Bella had gone back to her family in Italy by then. They tried to help Luc, but he was determined to make it on his own.” She grinned. “He told them he would accept their help after he made his first million. And he did—he was always determined. Anyway, after that he bought the club for Harley, set me up in business.”

  “What sort of business?”

  “Oh, I don’t pull tricks anymore. I’m a respectable businesswoman. I run an escort agency. Real upmarket. I don’t say that none of my girls offer extras, but that’s up to them.” She took a sip of her drink and viewed Lia over the rim of her glass. “Interested in Luc, are you?” Maggie asked. “I don’t blame you. Luc’s gorgeous, always was.”

  “Have you known him long?”

  “Since he was born. He was a beautiful child.” She smiled at some memory. “Very precocious.”

  What did that mean? “Sometimes, I don’t think he likes me much.”

  “Well, you’re his type, t
hat’s for sure. And that might be the problem. He had a real classy girlfriend a long time ago. She looked a lot like you, and she dumped him when he got into...”

  “Trouble?”

  “Never mind. You’ve got it pretty bad, haven’t you?”

  “Got what?”

  “Luc.”

  “No, I haven’t,” Lia protested, but Maggie just smiled.

  “He is gorgeous,” she said, “and all my girls go through it, but they’re a tough lot and realistic about life.”

  “I’m tough,” Lia muttered, feeling a little offended.

  Maggie grinned and patted her cheek. “Of course you are.”

  They walked back to the apartment together, but Maggie refused Lia’s offers of a drink or dinner or just about anything that would keep Lia from being alone with Luc. Maggie was about to walk away, but at the last moment turned back.

  “Look, love...” Maggie paused as though unsure as to whether to go on. Then she shrugged. “You’re a nice girl. I like you, and I never expected to, so I’ll give you some advice. Be careful. Don’t fall for Luc. I’m not sure what you’re doing here with him, or what Luc is planning, but I know Luc, and I knew of your father. And I don’t see how anything good can come of this.”

  “You can’t leave it at that,” Lia said. “Please, tell me why Luc wants to find my father.”

  Maggie shook her head. “That’s up to Luc to tell you. I’ll send a couple of my girls over on Saturday, help you get ready, do your nails, that sort of thing.” She leaned across and kissed Lia on the cheek, and then she was gone.

  …

  Lia sat, curled up on the cream leather sofa going over what Maggie had said, when Luke arrived home. He was dressed in a dark business suit and appeared cool and remote.