Craving Her Enemy's Touch

by Rachael Thomas

  It was time to go home. Time to go back to her life and pick up the pieces that had been discarded the day she’d heard that her beloved brother had died. Just as her father had been trying to persuade her to do for many months. But she was sure he wouldn’t have wanted her to fall in love with Alessandro Roselli and that was just what she’d done.

  She thought of her mother, but she dismissed the idea of confiding in her. She was always too willing to blame the racing world for bringing her family down and tearing it apart. It would only give more weight to her argument against the whole lifestyle.

  Resigned to the pain that Alessandro’s betrayal had brought, she pulled out her tablet and searched for London-bound flights, booking on one the next evening. At least that would give her time to go back to the test track in the morning. She had one last thing to do before she went.

  Then it would be goodbye and this time she meant it to be for ever.

  * * *

  Alessandro had watched her walk away, desperate to call her name, to make her turn and look at him. But it wouldn’t do any good. They should never have become lovers and they could never be together. The hours they’d shared at his villa must be forgotten and he hoped they hadn’t been tailed by any more photographers. It was bad enough her father might see the one of them kissing, but what if he saw her, cares cast aside, enjoying time with him? Not that they’d be shots of her at his pool— security was good at the villa—but they’d spent a lot of time out and about, doing tourist things.

  She had paused in the doorway and turned to look at him, her green eyes large and full of sadness, and as they met his he’d felt the disappointment crash over him like a stormy sea.

  ‘Goodnight, Alessandro.’ Her voice had lost the anger and hard edge of earlier but he remained where he was, rooted to the marble floor, unable to decide what course of action was best.

  ‘Buonanotte, Charlotte.’ He couldn’t stand and watch her any more, not if he wanted to keep his distance, so he turned and marched off to his study, a place he could lose himself in work. Behind him, he heard the bedroom door click softly shut but it sounded loud and piercing in his head, like a gunshot.

  He didn’t sit at his desk, didn’t open his laptop and work. He couldn’t. His mind was going over every single detail of the last few days. From the moment he’d seen her working in her garden to the hot passionate nights they’d shared.

  What was the matter with him? He couldn’t want her, couldn’t have her, but he did. He wanted to wake up with her each and every day. He paced the room, stopping to look out across the rooftops of Milan as the sun slipped lower in the sky, casting its orange glow onto the old buildings.

  When he’d promised Seb he’d look after her as if she was his own sister he had never imagined it would be so difficult. What would he do if the situation was reversed, if it was his sister involved with a man who would break her heart?

  He clenched his hands into tight fists, the thought of anyone hurting or taking advantage of his sister filling him with rage like an aggressive and territorial lion. Yet that was what he’d done. He’d gone back on his promise to Seb, just by kissing Charlie and by taking her away to explore the passion that had sparked to life the instant they’d met—he hadn’t looked after her, as he’d promised her father he would.

  The only thing he had been able to do right was keep the truth from her and even the success of that seemed in doubt as she probed into every drawing and detail Seb had made, and asked the manufacturing team pointed questions about whether certain design developments had been made before or after the accident.

  He closed his eyes and memories of the day Seb had told him the truth descended. He could still hear Seb, his voice weak as he lay in the hospital bed, begging him to keep the drink and drug problem from his sister.

  Please, Sandro, don’t tell her. It will break her heart. Whatever else you do, don’t tell her.

  Seb’s words came back to him, as clear as if he was at his side again. Alessandro rubbed his hands together, the light pressure of Seb’s grasp once again on his hands, and in his mind he could see Seb’s face, so like Charlie’s, begging him to keep his secret.

  Had he known then he wasn’t going to make it?

  With a furious curse, Alessandro strode back out of his office. He couldn’t let Charlie sit there alone, worrying about everything. Outside her door, he paused. Was he doing the right thing? He was normally so decisive, so sure of what needed to be done, but where this woman was concerned he was the opposite.

  He knocked on the door and almost instantly it was opened. ‘You can’t stay in there all night.’ He attempted light-hearted chatter, something she’d proved to be very good at over the weekend. The frosty glare she sent him told him that he hadn’t yet mastered that art.

  ‘We could go out for dinner.’ He didn’t like her silence, as cold as her eyes, and he had the feeling he was in ever-deepening quicksand.

  She raised a haughty brow at him. ‘So you can set me up again, get yet another photo of us together?’

  ‘Charlotte...’ He stepped closer but she moved back, using the door as a shield.

  ‘No, Sandro. I’m not prepared to take the risk. We should never have spent the weekend together.’ She moved further behind the door. Hiding from him, from what they’d shared.

  She was right and he moved away, not missing the relief on her face. ‘I knew nothing about that photograph and I’m sorry it has upset you.’

  ‘Please, I don’t want to talk about it now.’ Her green eyes looked moist and guilt tugged at him. He wasn’t doing a very good job of looking after her at all.

  He nodded his acceptance of her reason, knowing he was only making the whole situation worse. ‘I will find whoever it was who took the photo and personally deal with him.’

  ‘It won’t take away the fact that you used me and Seb to promote the car, to clear its reputation and your name.’

  ‘I have no need to clear my name, Charlotte.’

  ‘You do to me.’ Those words stung him as they hit home and finally his business sense returned. He needed to step back, assess the situation and plan his next move.

  ‘Very well, I will.’ He walked away, not stopping to see how his words had been received. If she wanted proof he’d find it, but how could he do so without giving away Seb’s secret—or his true feelings for her?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHARLIE HAD SECRETLY hoped Alessandro would have gone to wherever it was he went that first night, but as she’d emerged from her room earlier that morning he’d been preparing coffee, looking so handsome she’d actually stopped to take in every detail, from his expensive charcoal suit to the shiny black shoes.

  Now, enclosed in his car, painfully aware of every move he made as he drove, she wished she’d taken the early morning flight to London. Instead, she’d been lured by the opportunity to be at the test track again, hoping she would find out what Alessandro was keeping from her about Seb’s accident. Because something was, of that she was certain.

  ‘I have a meeting at lunchtime.’ His accented voice jolted her from her thoughts as they drove. She wanted to look at him, savour his handsome profile, but couldn’t allow herself to. She’d imprinted more than enough images into her mind during their weekend. It was time to stop, to let go of something that could never be and should never have happened.

  ‘I need to be at the airport this evening, so I will arrange a taxi.’ Her words, though flowing and easy, didn’t feel it. She was sure it sounded as if she was stumbling over each one and she ran her fingers through her hair nervously.

  He turned to look at her just at the moment she gave in to temptation to look at him and for a split second their gazes met, then he focused back on the road as they turned into the test track.

  ‘You said you weren’t running.’ His voice was deep and stern,
but she fixed her attention on the workshops as he pulled up and parked. The engine fell silent and her heartbeat thumped so loudly she was sure he would hear it.

  ‘I’m not running.’ The angry words flew from her before she had time to think. ‘I’m going back to my life, to the things I did before Seb’s accident. It’s what he would have wanted. The only good thing that has come out of this visit.’

  She got out of the car, anxious to put some distance between herself and Alessandro. It didn’t matter how much her body craved his, she had to remember what he’d done, how he’d manipulated her to get what he wanted in an attempt to assuage his guilt and clear his name.

  She all but marched off towards the workshops, hearing the driver’s door shut behind her then feeling his presence closing the distance as he caught up with her. Her pulse leapt as she reached the door but, before she could do anything, he pressed his palm against it, preventing her from opening it, stopping her from escaping him.

  ‘That is all? There must be something else you want to accuse me of?’ His voice deepened and she raised her eyes to meet his, determined not to let him know how much he affected her.

  ‘“Something else” being the fact that you virtually sold me to the press for your own gain?’ She hurled the words at him, indignation spiking her into action. ‘Or is it the fact that you seduced me? You let me believe I was doing all this for Seb, when it wasn’t. It was for you.’

  His brows lifted suggestively, his expression of smug satisfaction almost too much to tolerate. ‘As I recall, cara, it was you who seduced me.’

  She clenched her hands into tight fists, digging her nails into her palms. Pain made her gasp, emotional and physical pain. It was just what she needed to remind her of what was at stake. Not only her brother’s good name and her reputation, but her heart.

  ‘Don’t flatter yourself. What I did, I did for Seb.’ She flung the first words that came to mind at him, then bit down on any more. She didn’t want to let him know how much she was hurting, how hard she had fallen for him. He must never know. It would give him the trump card.

  ‘Not because you wanted to, because you couldn’t resist the fire that leapt to life between us the moment we met?’ He loomed over her, trapping her and forcing her to confront this.

  ‘Okay. So I couldn’t resist the fire, as you put it. But that fire is well and truly out now.’ She pushed his hand aside and opened the door, thankful to see mechanics and drivers busy at work. He’d never pursue her now, not so publicly.

  Behind her, she heard him talking rapidly in Italian, heard his footsteps as he marched across the spotless floor of the workshop. She had no idea what he was saying, but it seemed that everyone was ready to do as he asked, waiting for their instruction.

  At a loss as to just what she should do now they were here again and with so many curious glances her way, she went over to a car she hadn’t seen here last time. Obviously it was a new prototype for yet another road sports car. The black paintwork shone beneath the bright lights of the workshop and the elegant curves of the wing of the car caught her eye. It was very different from the flashy red one her brother had played a part in. That had been exactly what she would have expected from Seb.

  This had more style, as if designed for speed and comfort. The grille at the front was far more sedate, more classical and looked much less aggressive than Seb’s. It was still low and sporty, its power subtly evident, but with a sophistication that made her immediately think of Alessandro. Was this car all his work?

  * * *

  As he spoke to his team, Alessandro watched Charlie walking towards the car. He saw her head tilt to one side in contemplation as she stood by the front wing, looking along the line of the car. He could almost hear her mind working, assessing the car’s capabilities.

  With a few final instructions, he left his team and walked over to where Charlie was now looking inside the latest prototype. This was his design; everything he’d ever wanted in a car was going into it.

  ‘This looks like it has the potential to be a car in a league of its own.’ Her voice oozed enthusiasm that no amount of animosity between them could disguise. ‘Who designed it?’

  He wasn’t about to tell her it was his work, not so soon after the launch of Seb’s car. He’d never intended for her to see it, worried she’d think he’d moved onto a new project before Seb’s car had even been launched. ‘A team effort.’

  ‘A good one,’ she said, running her fingers along it, just as she had done with the first car. ‘A really good one. Black suits it.’

  He couldn’t listen to her praise for his work, even if she didn’t know it as such. This was the woman he’d done nothing but try to protect, the woman who heated his blood, making him want her more than any other. Now she hated him and was about to walk out of his life. But he couldn’t stop her.

  ‘I have arranged for Giovanni to take you back to the apartment to collect your belongings and then on to the airport.’ He had to keep the conversation on neutral territory. If she continued to talk about the car, he knew his passion for it would show, just as his passion for her could so easily come out.

  ‘Yes, of course, thank you.’ Her curt tone reminded him of her earlier anger and he knew he was doing the right thing. If he stayed any longer he would tell her anything to disperse that anger which hovered around them and relight the passion they’d shared at the weekend.

  The best thing he could do was go. Walk away and never look back.

  ‘Arrivederci, Charlotte.’

  Before he lost control of his emotions he stalked from the workshop, his footsteps echoing loudly across the floor. He could feel her eyes on him, feel the intensity of her gaze, and he reminded himself of her warning that first night they’d spent together.

  I don’t do for ever.

  Audaciously, he’d echoed her warning, using his first marriage to back up the claim, but had he really meant it? At that moment he had, but now, as he strode out of her life for ever, he knew that it was no longer true. He wanted for ever and he was turning his back on the one woman he wanted. Truly wanted.

  As the sunlight dazzled him and the door shut behind him he knew it was over. Whatever it was between them, it was gone. All that was left was his one-sided desire for a woman who thought he’d set her up and who held him responsible for her brother’s accident.

  This really was goodbye.

  He got into his car and reversed hastily backwards, tyres squealing in protest, then he sped off, wanting only to get as far away from her as possible. The sooner she returned to England, the better.

  * * *

  Embarrassment washed over Charlie as she suddenly became aware of someone standing at her side. She was still looking at the closed door, could still hear the screech of tyres that suggested Alessandro couldn’t get away fast enough.

  ‘Scuzi,’ the man at her side said; thankfully, he seemed unaware of her emotional turmoil. ‘We will leave for Milan in one hour, but you may wait in Signor Roselli’s office.’

  She smiled at his heavily accented English, as appealing as Sandro’s, but it didn’t have the same effect on her. It didn’t melt her from the inside, making her want to close her eyes as he spoke. ‘Thank you; I will be ready.’

  She turned and walked to the office, nerves cascading over her. This was the one place she hadn’t been able to look for evidence of Alessandro’s guilt. Was this where she could find out the secret he was keeping?

  She opened the door and immediately felt Alessandro’s presence. How could he affect her so, even when he wasn’t anywhere near her? She took a gulp of air into her lungs, focusing on what she’d come to Italy for in the first place. Proof of who was to blame for her brother’s death.

  She sat in the chair at his desk, unable to shake the feeling of unease, and glanced out at the workshop to see the team working on other ca
rs. Her presence at Alessandro’s desk didn’t seem to worry them and she relaxed a bit.

  At first she flicked through some design drawings, spread out and pushed to one side, then turned her attention to the files on the shelf above the desk. One stood out, as if calling for her attention, and she reached for it, feeling more and more like a spy.

  The first few sections held nothing but engine reports but, as she flicked through the file, one unmarked section at the back caught her attention. She opened the page and looked at the photo of the car, a grey prototype the same as she’d driven, its specification listed below. With trembling fingers she turned the page.

  Accident Report.

  The words rushed at her and her stomach lurched sickeningly. She blinked, as if doing so would erase the truth that was set out in black and white before her.

  ‘Oh, Seb,’ she whispered and closed her eyes, but the words were imprinted there already. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  The question bounced around the office and she glanced at the team beyond the window, sure they would have heard it. Satisfied they hadn’t, she looked back at the page, the words still a shock.

  ‘Driver error.’ She whispered the words, then paused before continuing. ‘The driver was found to have significant levels of alcohol and drugs in his system.’

  She leant her elbows on the desk and pressed her hands against her face. Could this be true? Could she believe it? She read the rest of the report, each point stating the car was in good working order.

  With a heavy heart she closed the file and pushed it away from her, not wanting to read another word of it and wishing Alessandro was here to explain why he was using her brother as a scapegoat.

  Alessandro had already shown how calculating he could be with the photo of the launch. Had this accident report been fabricated too?

  The man she’d spoken to earlier knocked on the office door, dragging her from her thoughts. ‘Now we shall leave.’ He’d discarded his overalls and was every inch the Italian in his jeans and leather jacket, but he was far from the Italian she really wanted. The one she hated and loved.