Scandalous Seductions

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Scandalous Seductions Page 35

by Penny Jordan


  Where the hell was Alex?

  The last e-mail he’d sent, he’d confirmed her date and time of arrival, had told her he couldn’t wait to catch up, had huge news to share. Surely if his plans had changed he’d have contacted her?

  But how?

  Meg closed her eyes against a temporary moment of panic. She hadn’t been near a computer for the last couple of weeks—happy the next leg of her tour had been arranged, she’d decided to cut loose for a while—and look where it had got her!

  The taxi rank had long since closed, so, consulting her map, Meg set out on foot towards the Free Hospital where Alex had told her he was working. The midday sun combined with her heavy backpack made the relatively short distance seem to take for ever. How she’d have loved to have lingered and wandered through the pretty shops, but a backpack and a pressing lack of accommodation for the night didn’t allow for such luxuries, so instead Meg stopped at one of the pavement cafés and ordered a quick coffee. Watching intrigued as the town seemingly prepared for something—shopkeepers were draping their stores with huge vines, hilarity ensuing as a few vocal locals strung banners and lights across the street, calling to each other in their colourful language as children watched on gleefully.

  ‘Is there going to be a party?’ Meg asked one of waiters whose English was better than most.

  ‘A bigger party than you have ever seen!’ Filling her cup he elaborated, ‘The Niroli Feast starts tomorrow—we party for the next few days and celebrate the treasures the rich soil gives us.’

  ‘Here?’ Meg checked, gesturing to the street they were in, but the waiter just laughed.

  ‘The whole island celebrates—you must stay for it,’ he insisted as only the Italians could. ‘I ask you—why would anyone not want to stay a while in this wonderful place?’

  Why indeed?

  Boosted from her shot of coffee, Meg made her way more briskly to the hospital, hoping against hope that Alex would be there and trying to fathom what she’d do if he wasn’t.

  * * *

  ‘Dr Alex Hunter!’ Meg tried to keep her voice even, trying not to show her frustration as she said her brother’s name for perhaps the tenth time. On perhaps the eleventh, the receptionist nodded her immaculately groomed head.

  ‘Sì, Alessandro Fierezza!’ Eagerly, again she nodded, tapping details into her computer. ‘He no here, I have no contact for him. Try palazzo!’

  Help!

  Meg grabbed her long hair into a tight fist and let out an exasperated breath as the receptionist called on a colleague, who spoke even less English, listening to their vibrant discussion peppered with the names Alex and Alessandro and wondering what on earth she should do.

  ‘Your brother marry.’

  ‘But my brother is not married, he’s not even engaged!’ Meg gave a helpless laugh, then shook her head as in broken English the two women attempted to explain the impossible.

  ‘Matrimonio,’ the receptionist said firmly, nodding as Meg frowned. ‘Your brother, Alessandro—’

  ‘Alex,’ Meg corrected, then slumped in defeat as the receptionist forced her to admit the truth—even if they had got the names mixed up, the simple fact was if Alex was in Niroli then he’d have met her at the port; her careful plans for the next couple of weeks flying out of the window courtesy of three little words—

  ‘Your brother gone.’

  CHAPTER TWO

  JASMINE HAD BEEN RIGHT—there was work at the casino.

  Lots of it!

  Working her way through mountain after mountain of white china plates, Meg tried to block out the noise of a busy kitchen—the chefs screaming at each other like proud cats fighting over territory, waiters collecting elaborate dishes, swooshing out of the swing doors only to return moments later, laden with half-eaten dishes to add to the pile Meg had been allocated. Not that Meg minded hard work, she’d been more than prepared for the back-breaking work of fruit-picking, but being shut up in a kitchen, her face red from the heat, her blond hair dark with sweat, was a million miles from what she’d envisaged from her time in Niroli.

  Almost as soon as she’d found Jasmine and filled in an application form, Meg had been given a list of shifts. Six till ten o’clock each evening, paid in cash at the end of each of shift, which meant Meg had the whole day for exploring Niroli, and it paid well, much better than fruit-picking, which meant, Meg realised, if she was careful and perhaps worked a couple of extra shifts she could treat herself to a day at that luxury spa.

  With renewed enthusiasm Meg tackled the mountain of plates—the last hour of her shift made so much easier by fantasising about being smeared in the famous Niroli volcanic mud she’d read about and being thoroughly pampered and spoiled for a day!

  ‘Faster now!’ Antoinette, her colleague for the night who was rinsing and stacking the plates that Meg was washing, egged her on in her broken English, but kindly. ‘We need empty sink for next staff. Or else they…’ She didn’t finish what she was saying—in fact a ream of sentences and orders around the kitchen remained forever incomplete, broken off midword for a reason Meg couldn’t yet fathom—the swing doors opened and an immediate hush descended on the busy kitchen as a group of dark suits entered.

  ‘Ah—sir!’ The head chef jumped to nervous attention as he approached the foreboding-looking men that had entered, yet he addressed only the leader.

  And even if he hadn’t uttered a single word, even if she had no idea who he was, Meg knew that he was very much in charge. His jet hair was a head above the rest of them, but it wasn’t just his height that set him apart—there was an authoritative air about him that would hush any room, an intimidating and overwhelming presence that had everyone in the kitchen, Meg included, on heightened alert.

  ‘Who is he?’ Meg whispered to Antoinette as slowly he toured the kitchen, talking with the staff as he did so. There was a slightly depraved look to him, a dangerous glint in those black eyes as he worked the room.

  ‘That,’ Antoinette said, in broken English, ‘is the boss, Luca Fierezza. He owns the casino. A prince.’

  IMPRINT: Special Release eBooks

  ISBN: 9781460805633

  TITLE: The Royal House of Niroli: Scandalous Seductions

  First Australian Publication 2011

  Copyright © 2011 – Penny Jordan

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilisation of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the permission of the publisher, Harlequin Mills & Boon®, Locked Bag 7002, Chatswood D.C. N.S.W., Australia 2067.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and ™ are trademarks owned by Harlequin Enterprises Limited or its corporate affiliates and used by others under licence. Trademarks marked with an ® are registered in Australia and in other countries. Contact [email protected] for details.

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