And who would not be frightened in similar circumstances? he allowed. If she had managed to work that much out, then she had also remembered that the blood that ran in his veins was Sicilian, and to a Sicilian family honour meant everything, which meant that she was in deep trouble.
Yet—oddly—he didn’t want her afraid of him, though barely an hour ago he had been walking into this building looking forward to frightening the life out of Natalia Deyton—before he kicked her out of here.
Now things had changed. His game plan had changed. He had looked into her eyes and seen a sensual heaven beckoning him that he could not ignore. He wanted to experience that heaven. He wanted to touch it, taste it, lose himself in it. He wanted to spend days and nights and long exquisite weeks exploring all its possibilities to the exclusion of none—before he kicked her out.
Which also meant that he needed her to see him as her hero not as her enemy if he was going to convince her to let him in her bed instead of Edward.
Not that Giancarlo doubted for a second that this was exactly what she was going to do, because, no matter how beautiful she was to look at, he had not forgotten that a cold and calculatingly mercenary woman lurked beneath all of that beauty. Why else would she choose a paunchy middle-aged man like Edward for her lover if it weren’t out of avarice?
Or was money her big turn-on? he then wondered cynically. Well, if it was, he decided, then he possessed more of that spicy commodity than Edward could ever hope to offer. Nor was he middle-aged or paunchy…
But his time was limited. He had put six weeks aside in his busy work schedule to be here in London. Six weeks to woo her, thoroughly slake his lusts in her—then redress family honour in a way that Natalia Deyton would never forget in a lifetime.
Still, first came the sweetness before the vengeance, he told himself, recognising the tight sting of anticipation for exactly what it was as he prepared to make her fall on him in undying gratitude.
‘My apologies, Miss Deyton,’ he murmured suddenly. ‘I have clearly upset you, and I had no wish to do that. Please, come and sit down, and I will explain to you why I am here.’
She blinked and went pale but began moving towards him. Watching her do so was a pleasure in itself. The graceful stretch of her legs, the sway of her hips, and the unbelievable amount of sensuality she displayed from slender shoulders to beautiful feet. Even the way she lowered herself into the chair on the other side of the desk possessed a kind of poetry. And her hair was not bottle red but a natural burnished copper that caught fire in the weak sunlight seeping into the room from behind him, enhancing her amazing milk-white skin.
He missed none of it—wanted all of it. Especially that mouth, he decided. That soft, gorgeous mouth which was already parted and trembling slightly as if inviting him in.
But the eyes were no longer looking sultry. They looked scared. He wanted sultry. To get it, he leaned forward in the chair, using sexual body language to grab her attention. It worked; her lashes flickered slightly as her gaze dropped from his face to his shirtfront as it came closer. The hairs covering his chest began to prickle in indication of his own sexual arousal.
The spice of life, he named it dryly, noting the way her breathing quickened and her breasts lifted and fell beneath the fitted white top, as her own indication of sexual arousal. Deciding to consolidate on that, he got up and walked round to settle his lean hips on the desk only a few short inches away from her.
‘Edward is well,’ he assured her, watching the way her eyes slid down the length of his legs—then quickly away again. ‘My sister Alegra is also well,’ he added. ‘In fact they are at this moment enjoying a well-deserved holiday cruising the Caribbean.’
Surprise brought her eyes up to clash with his. ‘But—Edward never said—’
‘Because Edward didn’t know anything about it.’ Giancarlo smiled. ‘The cruise was arranged as a surprise present from me for their silver wedding anniversary,’ he explained. ‘You did know that Edward and my sister have been married for twenty-five years?’ he then slid in silkily.
She shifted uncomfortably. ‘Yes,’ she confirmed.
Yes, he repeated silently. Of course you know. This was supposed to be the point where he duly informed her of what he knew about her affair with Edward—before he told her to get the hell out of his brother-in-law’s life while she still had a chance to do it in one piece. He even had the fat cheque already made out and waiting in his pocket, to give a little impetus to her departure.
But the cheque remained where it was, and he no longer wanted Natalia Deyton to escape in one piece. He wanted to retain certain parts of her, the secrets of her beautiful body for one, the key to her heart for another.
Vengeance, sweet vengeance, he named it poetically. The Sicilian in him had no difficulty at all squaring his intentions with his conscience.
‘The trip was planned in complete secrecy, and dropped on them both without warning a mere hour before they had to leave for Heathrow airport,’ he expounded with a wry look that acknowledged the necessity to give neither of them the time to think about it. ‘The surprise also came with my personal assurance to Edward that I would come and take care of things here for him while he is away, so he could have no excuse to protest the speed with which he and Alegra were rushed off to catch a flight to Barbados, from where they will begin their cruise.’
‘On one of your cruise-liners?’ she asked as a glimmer of understanding began to hit her blue eyes.
They weren’t sultry but at least they were no longer frightened. ‘What else?’ He smiled. ‘Honeymoon suite, royal deck, no luxury spared. Your concern for their well-being does you proud, Miss Deyton,’ he then said with blatant flattery. ‘But my own concern for their well-being would not offer them anything less than the very best to help them get over the tragic year they’ve had.’
Another magic word, he made grim note as she came jerking to her feet at the mention of the tragedy. Her eyes began changing again, clouding over—though not into the sultry expression he had been aiming for. What he saw was guilt. It showed she possessed a conscience, he supposed, though what that guilt was confirming to him did his resolve no favours.
Maybe he should just revert back to his original plan and throw her out of here! he considered on a sudden rise of black anger that hardened his expression, when he recalled the terrible year his sister had just endured since the violent death of her son—her only child—in a car accident. Marco had been the shining light in Alegra’s life. When that light had been snuffed out, the family had feared she would never survive the darkness that had followed.
So to discover her husband had found solace from his grief in a woman half the age of his wife was a sin no self-respecting Sicilian could forgive. As he stood there, staring into Natalia Deyton’s pained blue eyes, he had a dreadful urge to reach out and choke the very life out of her!
It therefore came as a complete shock to have her reach out and gently touch his shoulder. ‘I’m so sorry for your loss,’ she softly murmured. ‘Edward told me how close you were to Marco. It must have been a terrible time for all of you.’
She had seen his anger and was mistaking it for pain, Giancarlo realised. And her touch on his shoulder was making the taut flesh beneath it crawl with revulsion.
Liar, he then immediately scoffed at his own interpretation. His flesh was tingling with pleasure, not revulsion. Just as his heart was beginning to beat that bit harder because her eyes were sultry at last! And the idea of reverting back to his original plan suddenly lost its appeal because there was much more satisfaction to be gained from slaking and slaking and slaking himself in this woman—before he tossed her onto the heap she belonged upon.
Though that heap at this precise moment had taken on the shape and form of a bed of tumbled linen. He could see her stretched out on it, naked and aware, inviting him with those amazing eyes to take anything he wanted from her.
A much more satisfying form of vengeance, he decided, knowing, even as h
e told himself that, that he was responding to the weakness of his own burning flesh rather than to the incisive intellect he was much better known for.
It didn’t stop him, though, from reaching up to touch a gentle finger to the corner of her beautiful mouth. ‘Thank you,’ he murmured. ‘For your understanding.’
The mouth quivered beneath his touch. Her eyes were growing darker, her cheeks slightly flushed, and he felt himself being drawn slowly downwards until his mouth was within a mere hair’s breadth of tasting pure heaven.
Abruptly she jerked away, and with a rather dazed shake of her head took a couple of unsteady steps backwards, almost falling over the chair she had been sitting in, in her haste to put some distance between them.
Giancarlo watched and said nothing, in this case deciding that silence was golden when only a fool would misread the signals passing between them.
Having placed what she seemed to believe was a safe distance between them, Natalia composed herself then—quite bravely, he thought—looked him directly in the eye. ‘How long will Edward be away?’ she asked.
He almost smiled at that cool little voice, but managed to control the urge. ‘Six weeks,’ he replied, watching her lovely skin take on that milk-white pallor again as she took in this last piece of shocking information.
She was seeing six weeks of hell ahead of her while she tried to fight her own feelings, he suspected. He gave her a week—at the most. And made no effort whatsoever to hide his own sexual awareness. His eyes remained dark and his expression intense, the message he was conveying so clear that she blushed and had to look away again.
‘Edward assured me of your full co-operation in his absence,’ he informed her dulcetly, ruthlessly piling innuendo on innuendo with all the masculine charm at his Sicilian fingertips. ‘And I do not see us having a problem getting on with each other—do you?’
‘N-no, of course not,’ she agreed with as much professional cool as she could muster. But she was looking quite satisfyingly flustered as she turned her back on him to stare at the door in a rather desperate need for escape now. ‘Is—is there anything I can get for you?’ she asked as desperation became an uncontrollable desire and she began walking on unsteady legs towards the door.
‘Coffee would be nice,’ he said. ‘Black, preferably Italian if you can lay your hands on any.’
She nodded and kept walking.
‘Plus all the files on Edward’s major clients,’ he added more briskly. ‘Specifically the clients you were busily…charming during lunch today.’
‘Taylor-Gant.’ She supplied the name with her back still towards him so her frown was for her eyes only at the odd way he had used the word charm. ‘We market their designer lingerie.’
‘Do you wear it?’
He saw the flinch, was absolutely sure she was standing there with her eyes screwed shut—probably cursing herself for falling into that one? ‘No,’ she answered curtly, and opened the door.
‘Then buy some,’ he instructed. ‘To market a product one should know exactly what it is you are marketing.’
‘It isn’t my job to know,’ she protested.
‘It is now,’ he replied. ‘I expect by the end of the week for you to have an opinion on their full range. And that, Miss Deyton,’ he added for good measure, ‘is exactly the kind of information the personal assistant to a corporate chairman is supposed to know.’
The door opened and closed, leaving him alone to smile at her hurried departure, very satisfyingly aware that she had left here feeling more confused than she had felt when she’d first walked in and found him here instead of Edward.
The game was on. He was in control. He didn’t doubt it for a single moment. Natalia Deyton was his for the taking. He was actually enjoying himself—and within a week he intended to be enjoying himself a whole lot more…
CHAPTER TWO
STANDING on the other side of that closed door, Natalia was attempting to come to terms with what had just happened in there. It wasn’t easy, simply because she didn’t know what had happened—if you didn’t count the disturbing impression that she had just indulged in the thorough seduction of all the senses.
And with Giancarlo Cardinale, of all people.
Her skin gave a flutter on a small inner shudder that helped release some of the tension out of her body. Not that she felt any better for it, she noted as she made herself walk across her office and then sank weakly down on the edge of her desk while she tried to get herself back together.
Giancarlo Cardinale. The name was playing over and over inside her head like a mantra, frightening, disturbing—exciting, alluring.
Oh, dear God. She closed her eyes only to find that, once again, his image was firmly imprinted on her retina. The dark hair and skin, the compelling brown velvet eyes that had held her captive even though she desperately hadn’t wanted them to. Then there was his mouth—that terribly sensual mouth she could see drawing her own mouth towards it like metal to a magnet.
She could still feel the effects, still feel a warm, soft pulsing of needy flesh that brought her fingers up to cover her lips in an effort to stop the sensation. It didn’t work, and if anything only seemed to make matters worse when she felt her blood begin to heat in the mere memory of what she had wanted his mouth to do to hers.
Then—no, she amended that. Her blood wasn’t just growing hot, it was searing through her veins like pure radiation. Poisonous.
Poisonous? The word brought her hand snapping away from her mouth and her eyelids shooting open in shocked realisation of what she had just unwittingly done.
She had given the whole crazy experience a very accurate label, because, yes, Giancarlo Cardinale had to be poison—to her at any rate. Poison by passion, poison by desire, poison because she knew there could be no future in letting him come close. Yet she had a terrible feeling that she was going to let him close. That she simply was not going to be able to help herself.
The next shudder became a shiver, which brought goose-bumps standing out on her skin. The man was her enemy, she grimly reminded herself. Any member of the Cardinale clan was her enemy. But this one, this tall, dark, frighteningly sexy head of the house of Cardinale had the power to completely demolish her newly found belief in herself if he ever discovered just who it was he was dealing with.
Then there was Edward, she moved on to link one problem neatly with the other. Edward, of all people, knew the danger this situation was putting her in! So why had he done it? What the hell did he think he was playing at setting her up like this—and without any warning?
She jumped up, began pacing the floor, arms crossed, head bowed, eyebrows puckered by a frown as she tried to work out just what was going on here. It simply made no sense. Edward was her life. Both had sworn more than once that they couldn’t bear to be without the other now. So why was he putting their relationship at risk like this?
A sudden thought had her spinning back to her desk. Hitching her behind onto its pale beech-wood top, she stretched over and tapped a button on her keyboard, which would activate her voice-mail. Surely Edward would not have gone blithely off on his cruise without leaving her some kind of explanation for all of this?
It was a real relief to hear his deep, rather hurried voice filling the room. ‘Natalia, my dear. I have some news.’
In the very act of opening the door, Giancarlo Cardinale went perfectly still…
‘I have very little time to explain this, so bear with me and concentrate,’ Edward Knight instructed. ‘Surprise—surprise!’ He sounded tense and just a little anxious. ‘Alegra and I are in Barbados, would you believe? And about to embark on a second-honeymoon cruise, care of—Giancarlo! The point is, he’s arranged everything so right and tight that I hardly have time to make this call. But I had to warn you—he’s coming there. He will be looking after the business while I am away. So you’re going to have to watch your step with him. Watch what you do, watch what you say—and for goodness’ sake don’t fall in love with him! I need
to know that my girl will still be there in one whole piece, waiting for me when I return.’
Natalia laughed, though it was a rather thick, self-deriding sound. Giancarlo on the other hand heard nothing even vaguely amusing in what Edward had said. His mouth was tight, his eyes hard. If Natalia had glanced round and seen him standing there, she would have run screaming for her life.
But she didn’t turn, and Edward was still talking. ‘Also I need you to do a few things for me before he arrives,’ he explained.
‘Too damn late,’ she muttered.
‘I have some personal papers locked in the safe—you know the ones I mean,’ he added brusquely. ‘I would prefer Giancarlo not to set eyes on them. You know the combination—and so does Giancarlo now, because I was stupid enough to give it to him without thinking. So get all my private stuff out of there before he has a chance to find it, and keep it safe somewhere else for me until I come home. Got to go now,’ he announced hurriedly. ‘Alegra is glowering at me. I’m going to miss you. Be good while I’m not there—’
The connection was broken. Behind her the door to Edward’s office was silently closing again, leaving Natalia alone to mull over everything Edward had said—none of which made her feel any happier with the situation. He’d offered too little much too late and put their secret at risk in the interim—which also told her that he still hadn’t got around to breaking the news about them to his wife.
‘Oh, hell,’ she sighed. When was he going to learn that keeping secrets from the people you loved only made you miserable?
Only in this particular case she had to concede he had a valid reason for keeping silent. Alegra had taken enough over the last tragic year—as Giancarlo himself had pointed out. To discover that her husband was harbouring a dark, dark secret was not the best silver wedding present he could give his wife.
A Sicilian Seduction Page 2