The Flaw in Raffaele's Revenge (Harlequin Presents)

by Annie West

  This is their home! Lily’s words echoed in his head.

  She was too emotional. If there were problems with the relocation, he’d fix them. He wasn’t like Bradshaw, using then discarding people.

  Yet, annoyingly, doubt persisted. Just because he had no concept of home, was it possible he underestimated its importance?

  Raffa folded his arms. It was sentimental twaddle.

  He’d never had any attachment to ‘home.’ Even when his mother was alive, he’d rarely seen her as she struggled to support them. He’d been raised in a series of miserable rooms, each more rundown than the last. Home was where his sister was, not in cold concrete.

  Yet the churning inside didn’t ease.

  It was like those early days, looking through windows to glimpse the secure, happy lives of other families, knowing they might as well live on another planet for all the similarity between them and him.

  Lily made him feel like an outsider again.

  He sucked in a breath, inhaling the scent of dew and foliage and flowers. That hint of sweetness reminded him of Lily’s tantalising scent, understated yet seductive.

  She’d inveigled her way into his life, not just his bed. The realisation welded his feet to the rocky ground.

  Lily mattered.

  He’d opened up to her, telling her things he never shared. He’d sweated on her reaction to his past then been relieved when, instead of turning away, she’d offered understanding. For the first time since Gabriella he’d had someone on his side. Someone who saw him, not just a face or a body. For that brief space he hadn’t been alone. It had felt...good.

  Raffa hefted another breath, eyes fixed on the tiny spot that was Lily, swimming in the bay.

  He’d done more than open up. He’d trusted her. Despite the fact trust didn’t come easily.

  That was why he’d let her into his life. Why it hurt that she’d spurned him.

  He’d waited last night for her to knock on his door, apologise for abandoning him and admit she’d been wrong.

  He’d missed her.

  Raffa’s chest burned, his whole body was drawn tight. But worse was the raw ache right at his centre. An ache that echoed the loss he’d experienced when Gabriella died.

  It didn’t make sense. He’d only known Lily a few months. He felt protective after all she’d been through. He admired her brain and her sass and her indomitability. And her body. And her laugh.

  And the husky way her voice broke when he stroked her supple body. And how she snuggled against him in her sleep. Because she wanted him, not his money or his reputation.

  She cared. Which meant she’d see sense eventually. She was probably looking for a way to mend their argument right now. Maybe she was nervous about apologising. He knew he could be intimidating.

  His pulse kicked at the thought.

  In the distance Lily emerged from the water and crossed the beach towards her villa.

  Raffa turned and started back down the path, his stride lengthening.

  * * *

  ‘Lily?’ He pushed the door open and entered. The living room was empty, the shutters open to let in the breeze. Her laptop sat open on the coffee table beside a bag of liquorice. Raffa smiled. He’d watched Lily nibble the stuff when she was working hard, particularly if she was nervous.

  Was she nervous about confronting him? Was that why she hadn’t come to him?

  As he crossed the room Raffa heard the shower. He was drawn by the thought of Lily, naked and glistening, of joining her and ending their argument with hot, satisfying sex.

  He forced himself to turn away. This was about more than sex. He didn’t know what this was between them, but he was determined to find out. And to find out, they had to talk.

  Raffa frowned. Such thoughts were a foreign language, unfamiliar and difficult. Unease prickled between his shoulder blades. Did he really want to go there?

  Restless, he stalked to the lounge, grabbing the laptop as he sat. Might as well see what updates Lily had done overnight. There’d be something—a nugget of information on the old plantation estate or some snippet about Bradshaw. The deal would be wrapped up in a few hours when Bradshaw signed. Yet still Lily insisted on working. Unless news of his scheme had changed all that. Suddenly he needed to know.

  One tap and the screen came to life. Not a report, but an email.

  Raffa was about to minimise the document when the title grabbed his attention.

  Re: Island Deal—Urgent.

  Maybe it was relevant after all. He scanned the text. It was brief. And it sent shockwaves through him.

  Your report was excellent. More needed asap, especially on the counteroffer. What can you dig up? Cash bonus if you get me the info and we seal the deal, plus a week as my guest at the resort.

  De Laurentis

  Raffa gritted his teeth. De Laurentis. The savvy hotel developer who’d caught him out two years ago on that Greek deal. The one he’d outbid for the Seychelles property.

  De Laurentis, asking Lily to provide information on a counteroffer for an island resort.

  Raffa stared, the text on the screen blurring. There was a roaring in his ears, like the charge of a hundred motorcycles revving in his head. His belly contracted into a seething mass and pain radiated along his jawline as his teeth ground together.

  De Laurentis.

  And Lily.

  Lily feeding De Laurentis information to rob Raffa of the deal with Bradshaw. Robbing him of his revenge.

  * * *

  ‘Raffaele?’

  Lily hoisted the towel higher across her breasts. Her heart careered madly as wild hope rose.

  He’d come.

  All night she’d tossed and turned, wanting to go to him, wanting things to be as before. But she hadn’t because what he planned was just plain wrong. If she went to his villa he’d seduce her with his beautiful body and rich voice and those big, clever hands. With the way he made her feel special.

  She swallowed hard.

  If she let him seduce her into acquiescence to his scheme she’d feel tainted, as if she’d betrayed the people who lived here. After all, it was her meticulous research that had got him here, poised to take over Bradshaw’s business and close the resort.

  But he’d come. He was ready to talk.

  ‘Raffaele?’ She loved saying his name. She loved—

  He swung his head round, those bluer than blue eyes zeroing in and her buoyant lightness faded. It wasn’t tenderness or understanding she read in his face. It was something that made her flesh pinch as if an army of venomous ants swarmed over her, nipping and stinging till she felt hot and distressed.

  He shoved her laptop aside and stood.

  Instantly she was aware of his superior height. Fury radiated from him as clearly as light from a bonfire.

  ‘You’ve been busy.’ His voice was soft. Not soft like a comfortable embrace but lethally soft, lifting the hair on the back of her neck.

  ‘I’ve been for a swim.’ She took a step forward, vowing not to be intimidated by the man she’d come to care for. He was angry because they took different views on his plans but they’d work through that. She’d already decided she needed to speak with him as soon as possible. Emerging to find him already here just made it easier.

  ‘And you found time for work as well. What a busy woman you are.’

  Despite her reassuring self-talk, Lily stopped short. She’d heard Raffaele demanding, angry, reassuring, even tender, but never sarcastic.

  ‘You pay me to work.’ It was a matter of pride that even though she was having an affair with the CEO, she still did her job.

  ‘And so do others.’

  Was that why he looked so grim?

  ‘You know I’ve got other clients.’

  ‘Not when I pay for your exclusive services.’

  Lily’s heart stilled then rushed into an uneven rhythm. The way he said exclusive services made her think of something other than her research.

  Heat scorched her breasts and th
roat. She wished she was fully dressed instead of draped in a towel, her wet hair slick down her back.

  ‘The work is all but done. You said so yourself. My staff needed a hand on a project—’

  ‘I pay for your time, end of story. I told you to clear your other work away.’

  ‘I know but—’

  ‘But nothing, Lily.’ He stepped around the end of the lounge, stopping square in her personal space.

  Normally that wouldn’t matter. Normally she’d be reaching for him, eager to run her hands over his shoulders and into that thick hair, tugging his head down to hers.

  But the current of energy running between them wasn’t like that. This felt dark, troubling. Threatening.

  Lily hitched her chin. ‘What’s the problem, Raffaele? All I’ve done is answer a few emails and—’

  ‘And what?’ It struck her that for the first time in ages there was not a hint of softening in his eyes. They looked hard and cold as rock crystal. ‘And sold a report to my rival?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Don’t play coy. I read the email. You’re doing business with De Laurentis. You’re selling him information, aren’t you?’

  Lily frowned. What had that project in Thailand to do with Raffaele? As far as she knew, he had no interests in that part of the world.

  ‘I finalised a report for him weeks ago.’

  ‘And now you’re sending him inside information.’ He leaned close, his breath brushing her lips. ‘Have you forgotten the confidentiality clause in your contract? I can sue you for everything you’ve got and could ever earn if you betray me.’

  Lily stared, reading nothing but antagonism and a thirst for blood, her blood, in that big, bold face.

  Her throat scraped raw with the force of her indrawn breath.

  ‘You think I’ve betrayed you?’ Understanding dawned. ‘You think I used the information you paid me to find and passed it to someone else.’

  ‘Not just someone else. The only serious rival I’ve got. And not just the information you unearthed.’ His voice was like the lash of a whip. ‘I’ve shared things with you—my plans to take Bradshaw down. The fact I’m not going to give him what he wants—a profitable business he can leech off for the rest of his days. I trusted you.’

  ‘You honestly think I betrayed that trust?’ Lily’s head jerked back as if he’d slapped her. ‘You think I shared what you told me in confidence?’

  She should be furious. Yet somehow all she felt was pain. Pain that he’d think so little of her. That shimmering joy she’d found with him had been an illusion, as insubstantial as a pool of water on a bed of sand.

  ‘What else can I think? You’re dealing information to my biggest rival. Or do you deny it’s the same De Laurentis who made a name for himself with top class hotels in Italy? The one now investing in coastal resorts?’

  ‘It’s the same man, but—’

  ‘But nothing!’ As if hearing the way his voice had risen, he paused. When he spoke again his voice was slow, deliberate and barely above a whisper. ‘I pay you an exorbitant salary. I expect discretion and loyalty.’

  ‘I have been discreet and loyal.’ The same discretion and loyalty she gave all her clients. Which was why she hadn’t told Raffaele when she began working for him that she’d already committed to this job. De Laurentis deserved the same consideration Raffaele did. ‘There’s been no sharing of information.’

  ‘You expect me to believe that? The man says he’s desperate for information you can dig up on a counter-offer for this resort.’ Raffaele didn’t move yet seemed to swell, growing taller, more menacing. ‘Well? Speak up.’

  This was the man she’d fallen in love with.

  The man she’d entrusted with her fragile hopes and dreams. The man she’d leaned on as she forced herself from hiding and into the world.

  Hot tears spiked behind her eyes. Distress grabbed her throat and she had to work to find her voice. She laced her fingers together, squeezing.

  ‘Despite how it looks, he’s talking about another property. On another continent. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t see a conflict of interest at the time. They’re completely separate. But, because of what’s happened between you and me, I was about to write and tell him I can’t work for him anymore.’

  Lily had known that no matter what happened in the future, whether she worked for Raffaele or not, she couldn’t work for his competitors.

  ‘You expect me to believe that?’

  Lily stared into that stony face, each beautiful line carved as if in granite. Into eyes that sliced through her. She’d swear she felt the cut right to the bone.

  She’d turned herself inside out for Raffaele. He’d burst into her life and made her face her deepest fears head-on. He’d seduced her into believing the world could be an entrancing place, that she could be someone she’d never dreamed she could be.

  He’d made her love him. And, worse, believe he might care for her, just a little.

  And now, in one fell swoop, he’d smashed it all. The hopes, the joy, the trust.

  That grim face held no doubt or tenderness. She’d made a monumental fool of herself. What had she been—a diversion? A curiosity? Reclusive and virginal and so naive. Someone a little different for a holiday fling.

  Pain raked at her insides.

  It wouldn’t have hurt as much if he’d accused her of being unattractive. But he’d attacked her in the one place she’d always relied on. The one part of her life where she’d been strong and confident and sure of herself. Her professionalism. She’d believed in that when she’d believed in nothing else. And now he tried to smash that too.

  ‘No, I don’t expect you to believe it. I can see you’ve made up your mind, no matter what I say.’ She hauled in oxygen and planted her hands on her hips. Somewhere, deep within, dreams were disintegrating, hopes vanishing. But one lesson Lily had learned well—to conceal hurt.

  ‘There’s nothing more to say, Raffaele. In the circumstances, I know you won’t want me to work out my notice before I resign.’

  Silence. Blankness on his features.

  What had she expected? Second thoughts? An apology?

  ‘You can resign tomorrow, after I close this deal. And know that if you try to pass any more information to De Laurentis in the meantime, my lawyers will make it their mission to destroy you.’

  Silently Lily nodded. Words were beyond her. It took all her energy just to stand tall, bearing the weight of each lashing word.

  He turned, glanced at the laptop, and she wondered if he was going to smash that too, or take it with him. Instead he strode to the door without looking back, confident in the knowledge no sane person would ignore his threat of legal action.

  Clearly he expected simply to walk out of her life, dismissing all they’d shared. As if that, and she, meant nothing.

  ‘You told me about your past.’ Her voice was croaky but she knew he heard. ‘The way you spoke made it sound like you felt...’ She paused, searching for the right word. ‘That you felt diminished because of what you’d done to get out of poverty.’

  Raffaele stopped, his hand on the door. He didn’t turn.

  ‘It’s not what you did for a living that taints you. It’s the fact you haven’t learned to trust anyone but yourself. Until you do you’ll always be alone.’

  She snatched a heavy breath.

  ‘You made me trust you, Raffaele.’ Lily almost choked on his name, but fought back despair. ‘I hate that you’ve shattered that trust. But I intend to be stronger than you. I’m not going to let that destroy me. I’m going to get on with my life and not look back.’

  For a heartbeat he stood unmoving, then without a word he dragged open the door and strode into the sunlight.

  Had she really expected him to listen?

  Lily stood in the centre of the room, rigid with shock. A forlorn, disbelieving part of her hoping he’d return when he calmed down.

  He didn’t return.

  She stood so long, not darin
g to move lest the hurt inside break free and smash her into tiny pieces. But eventually her legs gave way and she staggered to the lounge.

  Fifty minutes later she was on the motor launch heading for the next island. Two hours after that she was airborne, beginning the long trip away from Raffaele.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  AT LAST IT was done. Bradshaw had signed the papers and Raffa was the majority owner of the island.

  He should be crowing with delight, or at least smiling with satisfaction. Instead he felt a sense of anticlimax. As if this long-awaited victory wasn’t everything he’d hoped for.

  There’d been a moment of predictable, if shallow, pleasure when he’d refused Bradshaw’s offer of a champagne toast to celebrate their partnership.

  There’d been several minutes of gratification as he’d explained precisely why they would never work together. And the fact that he, Raffa, intended to ensure the island would never make a profit to support the man responsible for killing Gabriella.

  Bradshaw had blustered and denied and finally pleaded, but the legal documents were watertight. He didn’t have a leg to stand on.

  Raffa had listened to Bradshaw ranting and threatening, and waited for the welcome surge of pleasure.

  It didn’t come. Instead he felt unsettled. Something gnawed at his gut. He and Consuela were almost back to the resort when he realised it was because justice, or vengeance, or whatever you named it, couldn’t bring Gabriella back. The hole in his heart was still there, still raw. He’d failed her. If he’d been a better brother—

  ‘My legs aren’t as long as yours. Do you mind slowing a little?’

  He glanced at Consuela, impeccable as ever in a severe charcoal suit. Interestingly, she didn’t look like she’d just achieved a major victory either.

  ‘Sorry. I was thinking.’

  ‘Not happy thoughts. I assumed you’d be pleased.’

  He shrugged and gestured for her to precede him where the path through the trees narrowed.

  ‘I’ve got a few things on my mind.’ Not just the unexpected sense of let-down but that scene this morning with Lily. His thoughts had circled back to her words time and again, even when signing the all-important contract.