But white-collar criminals weren’t dangerous. They didn’t wave guns in the faces of tourists who couldn’t manage to find their way to the front door. They were mild, peaceful. That was one of the things that made them white-collar. They didn’t commit violence, didn’t want to get their hands dirty.
Thinking this did not make the gun go away. She had to stop thinking so much, Hayley told herself. She had to get more practical. So what if it seemed unusual for a white-collar criminal to have an armed guard at his country estate? Who was Hayley to make judgements about things like that?
Until this very moment, Hayley had led a quiet life. Working in wedding photography ever since she discovered there was a way to use her skill with a camera to earn an income. Her biggest conflict so far had involved brides-to-be and tears. Last week, a woman had collapsed in tears because Hayley’s skills were so in demand that she ‘had to have her’ for a day. Hayley had already been booked. The crisis hadn’t ended until Hayley had found another photographer that the woman liked. Encounters like that hadn’t prepared her for dealing with armed guards, or with criminals.
But she had to do what she had come here to do. She was committed to it now. With mixed emotions, Hayley fell into step beside the guard and accompanied him inside.
Chapter Two
What the hell was this woman doing here? Ethan MacDonald looked down at her again as he slid open the bolt on the long front door. She walked into the hall in front of him, small and slight and young. He knew from her accent that she was Australian. The way she had spun out that ridiculous story about taking photographs of his home! He could tell she was far too inexperienced to have any idea of how much trouble she was getting herself into.
The woman paused and glanced around the hall. She seemed impressed. It was a big, open space, scrubbed clean and filled with sunlight from the windows high up in the walls. As she looked around, she fingered the catch on her camera bag. Perhaps she really did want to take photos, although that was clearly not what she had really come here for. Perhaps that was just what she habitually did when she was nervous.
Ethan turned to lock the door behind him and to key a security code into the alarm box beside it. When he looked in her direction again, the woman had taken a step towards the banisters and reached into the case attached to her belt, feeling for her camera.
‘No photos,’ he told her.
The woman’s hand stilled, but did not lower. ‘No photos yet,’ she corrected.
There was something in her tone that was slightly school-teacherish. She was correcting him? If the idea hadn’t been so ludicrous, Ethan might have found it annoying. Once again he felt, as he had felt outside when she had walked towards him despite the gun he was aiming at her, that this was a woman who did not like to do what she was told — the sort of woman that craved adventure.
Ethan stiffened at the thought. He knew about women like that. Excitement-crazed and always eager for adventure, no matter what the cost. The family of Erica, his late wife, had lived in this part of the world forever and in some ways Erica had reminded him of the pre-Roman Etruscan women renowned for their wildness. He had experienced enough of that wildness before. Enough for a lifetime.
‘No photos until I speak to your boss,’ the woman continued. She turned again, gazing through the open internal door towards a large sitting room beyond.
‘My boss?’ Ethan repeated.
‘Is he around somewhere?’ She stepped towards the other room. ‘I will ask permission, you understand. But I have come for those photos and I really don’t see any reason why he should say no. This is a beautiful house.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Thank you?’
The woman was really very pretty. He appreciated it even more when she directed the full force of her attention towards him, as she was doing again now. Her eyes were wide and brightly blue, a fine contrast to the pale coils of her hair.
‘Did you have something to do with the decorating?’ she asked.
He coughed. ‘You’ve misunderstood,’ he said. ‘My name is Ethan McDonald. We’re in my house.’
To do her justice, the woman recovered quickly from her evident surprise. Her fingers finally left the camera case as she reached out to shake his hand. Only the nervous way she tossed her hair over her shoulder betrayed that she was not completely at ease. Then she laughed, a tinkly, slightly forced sound.
‘McDonald?’ she said. ‘Scottish name, Australian accent, Italian way of speaking with your hands. You’re intriguing, you know? And I do have to apologise. I thought you were the guard.’
He shook her hand, waiting for the next piece of information. And evidently she sensed the anticipation.
‘I really don’t need to explain again what I want, do I?’ she asked.
‘No.’ Ethan considered her. ‘But I wouldn’t mind knowing exactly who you are.’
‘I told you. I’m a photographer. I’m here to… Oh! You mean I’ve forgotten to tell you my name.’
Charmingly, she held her hand out again, as though she’d forgotten that they had just been through that.
‘Hayley Morrison. Pleased to meet you.’
She was much too confused and inexperienced for this dangerous business, Ethan realised. What on earth did she think she was doing? How on earth had Alvaro Tomasi convinced her to have anything to do with him at all? And why would Alvaro Tomasi come up with such a strange plan to get her into his home? But he shook her hand again anyway. She had nice skin.
Very nice skin, he realised next, missing the warmth of her touch as it was withdrawn.
‘You said you’re Ethan McDonald?’ she continued. ‘I was wondering about that. Apparently this is your family property? McDonald’s not at all an Italian name.’
‘My mother was Italian.’
‘I see.’ Hayley nodded. ‘You must get your colouring from her.’
‘So I’m told.’
Hayley smiled. Her face lit up with it. ‘You don’t know for yourself?’
‘I didn’t know my mother. She died when I was very young.’
‘Oh! I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be.’ Ethan had spent most of his life fielding questions about what had happened to his late mother. Until he started fielding questions about what had happened to his late wife. ‘I very much doubt it was your fault.’
She flushed. Ethan found himself feeling sorry for his sharp reply, although it was his customary response when people apologised for his mother’s death.
‘I didn’t mean it like that.’ Hayley’s chest expanded as she took a deep breath. ‘Look, we’ve been through the introductions now. You know why I’m here. I can tell you don’t really like having a stranger around. Can I just get on with things?’
‘I don’t really think so, no.’
‘Why not?’
‘Well, for a start, I don’t know what things you mean.’
‘Taking the photos of course. Then I can leave.’
‘You really think I’m going to let you do that?’
‘Well, you brought me in here.’
‘I wanted you where I could keep an eye on you. Now, please go into the sitting room. I have something to attend to for a few minutes.’
He stretched out one arm, half expecting that she would refuse to move until the agreed to the photos. But she must be a little curious about the rest of the house. As she stepped into the adjacent room, her sunshiny scent floated up to him.
Ethan closed his eyes for a moment but opened them while she was still looking away. How long had it been since he’d been so aware of a woman’s scent? Probably not since Erica, although Hayley’s scent was far warmer and more floral than Erica’s had been. For some reason, Hayley’s hair reminded him of Erica as well. Although Erica had been dark where Hayley was very fair, they had shared the fluffy sort of curls he always wanted to run his fingers through.
The two women had altogether too much in common. Most importantly, they shared a propensity for getting into t
rouble. For all he knew, they shared a dangerous love of adventure too. It was indulging her love for scuba diving that had killed Erica, two years ago.
Ethan caught up with himself then. What did he mean, thinking ‘for all he knew’? Of course he knew that Hayley shared Erica’s dangerous passion for adventure. Nothing else could have brought her here.
He showed her to one of the chairs and found himself shaking his head. How long had it been since a woman had last been in here? Years, probably. There was his daughter Katy, of course, but no adult female since the last time Erica had been here, a year or so before she died. And yet the room seemed warmer with Hayley in it.
That was why he shook his head. The last thing he needed was another woman around. Any sort of woman would be a distraction. He had serious trouble coming after him, was in serious danger, and needed to keep alert at all times if he wanted to keep Katy safe. A woman like this, sniffing out danger that was entirely unnecessary to her, was exactly the sort of person he needed to avoid.
‘You have a piano?’ Hayley sounded wistful.
‘It was my mother’s,’ Ethan said. He reached his hand towards her. ‘Give me your camera.’
Hayley’s hand closed over the bag at her waist. She had fine, long fingers, he noticed.
‘What do you mean?’ she demanded. ‘Why would I want to do that?’
‘I’m about to leave you alone in this room. I want to make sure we’re quite clear about what I’ll allow before you start taking any photos.’
She looked hopeful. ‘You’ll let me know what you’ll allow?’ she repeated. ‘That means you’ll let me take photos after all?’
Ethan wasn’t fooled. What he was going to allow was precisely nothing. But he didn’t believe that Hayley was really after something as simple as photos, and he had something to prove to her before they talked any more. Some little piece of information that she could take back to whoever it was that had sent her here.
‘We’ll talk when I come back down,’ he said. ‘I’ll only be a few minutes. Give me your camera.’
Her fingers shook a little as she undid the catch to her camera bag and passed it over to him. Indecision flickered too, in the slight, slight movement of her full lips. He left her to wonder while he took the camera with him and, taking care to leave the door open behind him, walked back through the hall and up the stairs.
‘It’s all right, Katy, I’m coming,’ he called as he walked out of the room.
There was a rustling noise in the sitting room behind him. Hayley had moved in her seat. He imagined her now, leaning forward, craning her head to see what he was up to. Perhaps she would even stand and walk towards the door.
Ethan took care that his footsteps were heavy on the stairs. He wanted to make this easy for her. He paused for a moment as though waiting for an answer, then, in an encouraging voice, called out.
‘Almost there!’
There was a closed door near the first landing. He knocked on it and turned the handle. The room beyond was empty apart from a narrow single bed and a white-painted chest of drawers. This room was closest to the centre of the house and it was where Ethan himself usually slept.
‘How are you going, Katy?’ he asked, in a too-loud voice, directing the question towards the empty bed.
Of course the bed had nothing to say to him. And Katy was hundreds of miles away, safe in a convent in the north of Italy. It was important that the woman downstairs not know this.
‘That’s good,’ he said. He left another pause. ‘She’s just a photographer. She won’t be here for long. Then we can go for that walk, okay?’
Something in his chest hurt because of the pretence. He would like nothing more now than to be about to take Katy for a walk out in the sunshine, perhaps towards the vineyards he had been tending earlier.
How desperately he wished that circumstances were different! Katy could have charmed Hayley, perhaps then they could all have gone for a walk together…
Then he steeled himself. He could not appear weak in front of the woman downstairs. It was because his enemies were able to hire people like her to do their dirty work — or at least, their spying work — that he had to keep Katy hidden so far away from him.
‘All right. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Bye now,’ he said, backing towards the door. ‘Love you too, Katy.’
He pulled the door towards him, closing it on an achingly empty room.
Once upon a time, this had been a family house. He and Erica and Katy had been happy here, or so he had believed way back then. How was he to have known how badly Erica was craving something more? That the quiet family life that had meant so much to him, when he’d thought he’d found it for the first time in his life, had so little meaning to Erica? She had been willing to risk it all just for the sake of adventure. She had been foolhardy. And she had paid the ultimate price in the end, dying far from Ethan and Katy.
His footsteps were heavy again as he walked back downstairs, but this time because he was thinking how unfair it was that Katy, too, was paying the ultimate price for her mother’s foolishness.
Women who cared for adventure more than family were the very worst sort of human beings in Ethan McDonald’s eyes. Erica’s cravings for adventure had made sure that his daughter grew up motherless, as he had. And right now he had to concentrate on getting this new adventuress, this Hayley Wolfe, out of his house.
But it wasn’t as simple as forcing her to leave the villa. It could only have been someone connected to Alvaro Tomasi who had sent her here, and Ethan knew the real reason that Tomasi wanted information about the interior of his villa. Perhaps Hayley actually believed that her photographs were wanted for some sort of magazine. She certainly couldn’t imagine what the truth was.
Ethan shuddered, considering that truth. Alvaro Tomasi was an evil and dangerous man. When Hayley left the villa without the images she had been sent for — and she would leave without them, Ethan would make sure of it — she would be walking into serious danger herself. Ethan had lost count of how many former employees had disappointed him and wound up dead.
It seemed pretty clear to him that Hayley had no idea who she was dealing with. No doubt she wasn’t even aware that the very first question she would be asked on her return was if he, Ethan, had been alone in the house. That was, if Alvaro Tomasi’s goal in sending her here was as straight-forward as spying on him — and something told Ethan that the truth was a lot more complicated than that.
‘We need to talk,’ he said, returning to the sitting room and resting Hayley’s camera on the table between them.
What would Ryan Michaels do? The older man had been his boss and his mentor for a long time. Ethan had taken over his position when the older man retired a couple of years ago, but Ryan had been happy to step back into the role when Ethan needed time off to sort out his personal problems with Alvaro Tomasi. Ryan was like a father to him. Ethan would talk to him about all of this as soon as he could.
Hayley reached out for her camera, but Ethan waved her hand away.
‘Do you want to know what I’ll do with the photos?’ she asked. ‘I can give you the phone number of the magazine editor if that would be —’
‘No phone number. That won’t help at all. I know how easy phone numbers are to arrange.’
Before taking a seat himself, Ethan moved towards the drinks cabinet along the side wall. Several bottles of Chianti from grapes grown in his villa’s own vineyard were arranged, ready to open. He reached for one of those and a bottle opener and turned to face her.
‘I know your scooter is parked not too far from the villa, but you will be safe to drive after one small glass of this.’
Hayley’s mouth dropped open, revealing two rows of small, pearly teeth. ‘You know about my scooter?’
They really were lovely teeth, in a lovely, lovely mouth. Ethan clutched the wine bottle closer to his chest and pushed the corkscrew in with a particularly hard shove. Was there one part of this woman that he didn’t admire?
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‘How long ago did you discover I was here?’ she asked.
He poured her a generous glass and turned, passing it to her. ‘You mean did I know about you while you were out in the vineyards, snapping photos of the villa from a distance, or was I really sleeping while you were trying to take photographs through my windows?’
She accepted the glass, her mouth still open.
‘A particularly unlikely attempt, by the way,’ Ethan continued. ‘I couldn’t see in those windows myself and I’m probably a foot taller than you.’
‘Why did you let me —’
‘I wanted to know what you were up to.’
‘You could have asked.’
Now she looked annoyed. And beautiful. She had taken a sip of the wine and her lips were red with it.
‘You wouldn’t have told me the truth,’ Ethan told her.
‘Why were you so sure about that?’
‘You haven’t told me the truth so far.’
‘I’ve…’ Her voice trailed off.
Hell, she was the most talentless liar he had ever come up against. And he had come up against many. She obviously had no experience with deception at all. This settled things. Ethan couldn’t let her leave here without letting her know about the sort of people she had become involved with.
‘You might think you’ve told me the truth,’ he said, although he wasn’t sure that she did.
Her blush soon told him he had worked her out. She knew she had been lying about the expats magazine article. But this didn’t mean she was misguided enough to have fallen in with the Tomasi family entirely.
‘I’ve told you —’ she began.
And then, ‘What makes you think what I said wasn’t true?’
Trusting a Stranger Page 2