Summer Sins

by Julia James

  Alicia had straightened her spine, feeling justifiably vulnerable. She had no idea what Dante may or may not have told his assistant and hated the feeling that perhaps he knew. but he had seemed nice enough and had checked in on her during the day to make sure she was being looked after. So she couldn’t fault him really.

  And now the clock’s hands were nearly at seven p.m. But still she jumped when the knock came on their shared door. The walls were so thick that she hadn’t heard a movement from his room. She took a deep breath and turned away from her reflection, knowing that she’d done all she could in terms of trying to make herself presentable.

  ‘Come in.’

  The butterflies turned into small birds beating against her chest. The door seemed to open in slow motion. He was just a dark shape at first, the light blocking him out so that for a second he could see her but she couldn’t see him.

  Dante pushed open the door and felt a curious trepidation in his chest. What the hell was that? But it wouldn’t go away and, as he walked in, the evening sun moved at that split second and Alicia stood there, bathed in a halo of light. Banal words like stunning, gorgeous, came into his head, but really didn’t do her justice. She wore a deep, deep red dress. It was silk, it was strapless, it fell to her knees and had a slit up the side. It clung to soft, feminine curves. It was simple, artful and provocative enough to make him want to stride over, strip it off and lay her down on the nearby bed. His hand gripped the doorknob.

  The sun shifted again, the light fading and Dante’s mouth quirked. He was seeing things, that was all. Alicia Parker scrubbed up well. That was it. He strode forward, his feelings and turbulent desires firmly under control.

  Alicia felt unbelievably nervous as he came in. He’d stood there for a long moment and she hadn’t been able to see the expression on his face with the setting sun in her eyes. But now he was here, the quintessential billionaire in his tuxedo, white shirt and black bow-tie. Her breath stalled and she said very jerkily, ‘I hope this is OK; I wasn’t sure what to put on.’

  Why did she have to look so damn nervous? It made all sorts of conflicting things rise up again, that control laughably crumbling.

  ‘It’s fine.’ He was terse. ‘What have you done to your hair?’

  She put a hand up, her face flushing. ‘Should I take it down? I was trying something the hairdresser showed me yesterday.’

  ‘No, it’s fine.’ Dante’s voice was gruff. Her hair was magnificent. Caught back and tied in a careless bun to the side, it looked sexy and chic. He put a hand on her bare shoulder, turning her around, and her skin felt soft and warm. A red diamanté hair-clip sparkled amongst the dark golden strands.

  ‘It’s fine,’ he repeated. ‘Let’s go or we’ll be late.’

  Alicia grabbed a shawl and followed him somewhat unsteadily, unaccustomed to the high heels. At the top of the stairs he waited for her, a look of impatience on his face. Her heart sank; he still hadn’t forgiven her for her innocent assumptions. And then, as if she’d imagined it, the look disappeared and something else was there. Something … hot and unfathomable. When she reached him, he took her hand and lifted it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the underside of her wrist. It felt like a shockingly intimate gesture and colour scorched her cheeks.

  ‘Ah, D’Aquanni, there you are!’ a voice boomed out from the bottom of the stairs and Alicia realized that they were in full view of the open door leading into the main drawing room, which in turn led into the dining room. Dante’s grip on her hand tightened. He was putting on an act, making it look genuine. That was all. Alicia felt like a prize fool. She’d actually thought for a split second. Her eyes flashed and she sent a very pointed look back at him, tightening her own fingers around his as if to say, I know it’s an act too … She smiled up at him and it was hard and brittle.

  And she didn’t have time to know if she’d fooled him or not as he led her down the stairs to meet the owner of the booming voice.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ALICIA sipped from her glass of vintage champagne and tried not to let a bemused smile show on her face. The scene around her was so far removed from where she’d spent the last year—or anywhere, if she was honest—that it was almost funny. But then she looked at Dante’s impressive back and any thoughts of smiling fled as heat unfurled in her belly.

  Dante had been sucked into a round of greetings and Alicia was hanging back feeling shy, a little bewildered at the sight of new people, all bedecked in their finery. Apart from Buchanen and O’Brien, there were about five men and two women, the various assistants and advisers attached to each man. They all looked fearsomely important and the room reeked of wealth—the kind of wealth that would make your head spin.

  The man at the bottom of the stairs had been Derek O’Brien, Dante’s fellow construction entrepreneur from Dublin and obviously his close friend. Derek had said he was accompanied by his wife, one of the few, it seemed, who was allowed the honour of attending this week. Just as Alicia was wondering about this, a nice-looking woman approached her.

  ‘Hello, you must be Alicia.’

  Alicia nodded and shook the woman’s hand, smiling shyly. ‘Yes … I’m sorry and you are?’

  ‘I’m Patricia O’Brien, Derek’s wife. I believe you just met. He told me to come and make sure you were all right.’

  Alicia felt a dart of something as she realized that Dante obviously hadn’t been concerned about her. They’d walked in and he’d been surrounded in seconds by a crush of people, barely looking back to see if she was still there.

  Alicia was glad of the friendly greeting. ‘You’re very good.’

  ‘I see that even though she was invited too, Buchanen’s wife hasn’t come for the first week; probably knew she’d be sidelined …’ The older woman shook her head wryly. ‘My husband, however, is incapable of doing anything without me.’

  Patricia was looking fondly at her husband across the room and Alicia felt envious. She took a hurried sip of the sparkling wine. What was wrong with her? She’d never felt that lack before.

  She felt a prickling on the back of her neck and looked up. Dante was reaching out a hand through the throng and, like the Red Sea parting, people stood back and let her through. She sent a quick smile back to Patricia, who motioned with her hands for Alicia to go.

  Dante pulled her in to his side and Alicia felt as if she’d have preferred to stay on the periphery and not in the centre of this man’s orbit. Everyone was looking at her like a specimen under a microscope. Especially Buchanen, a rotund man with penetrating eyes.

  ‘Everyone, I’d like to introduce you to Alicia Parker …’

  Alicia nodded and smiled hello as people came forward and were introduced. She hadn’t imagined some of the funny looks Dante had received, as if indeed people were somewhat surprised that he’d turned up with someone on his arm. And for a treacherous split second she felt a kinship, as if they were in this together. His hand stayed on or near the middle of her back, sending little electric shocks up and down her spine.

  When they sat down for dinner Dante had to let Alicia go and he didn’t want to. That moment when he’d pulled her in to his side in the drawing room, she’d looked like a deer caught in the headlights, but after a few minutes she’d relaxed into the situation and had chatted easily. In fact, she’d been so at ease that it had distracted him from his own conversation. They’d got separated as soon as they’d walked in and never before had he had the sensation of wanting to keep a woman close—foolish thoughts again, he’d reasoned to himself. He had to keep tabs on her; wasn’t that why she was here in the first place … and to sate his libido?

  And then, on the way into dinner, Patricia O’Brien had come and squeezed his hand, saying sotto voce, ‘She seems like a lovely girl.’

  He hadn’t expected this. He didn’t know what he’d really expected but it hadn’t been this. She was sitting away from him by a few seats, beside Derek, who was obviously smitten. And, even though Derek was a good twenty years his se
nior, Dante felt like plucking Alicia bodily from her chair and placing her next to him. He wouldn’t put it past her to try and seduce his old friend, and the thought made him sick. He forced himself to look away.

  Dante’s English right-hand man hadn’t been able to come this week so had sent his assistant instead; Jeremy Gore-Black. He was seated next to Dante now and while he had been looking forward to catching up on some vital information, the man’s monotone voice was rapidly making Dante more and more irritable.

  Alicia sent up silent thanks that she was seated next to someone as gregarious as Derek O’Brien, who was regaling the small audience with hilarious stories. It wasn’t hard to smile and look happy, at ease. But she was very aware of Dante a few seats away, aware of his movements, his hands, his head as it inclined towards the person he was talking to.

  ‘Hey … Alicia, wasn’t it?’

  Alicia nodded and turned to the American on her other side. He was a young man called Brown, if she remembered correctly from the brief recent introduction, Buchanen’s assistant. She was immediately aware of trying to make a good impression, even though his eyes weren’t meeting hers and he was obviously looking for her pretty much non-existent cleavage. She almost felt like apologizing. Until he looked up, smiled slimily and said, ‘So what’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?’

  ‘I …’ Suddenly Alicia was very aware that his question had dropped into a temporary lull in the conversation and everyone seemed to be listening.

  ‘Well … I’m here on the kind invitation of Dante.’ She sent what she hoped was a suitably loving smile to him, but it felt forced and he looked dark and unreadable. The man was oblivious to the silence.

  ‘And what exactly do you do, then? Do you have a career?’

  All Alicia’s hackles rose. His arrogant tone said that he expected she did anything but work. ‘Yes—’ she just managed to sound civil ‘—I’m a qualified nurse and midwife actually.’

  Dante cut in then, surprising her, and surprising himself for feeling that he wanted to defend her. ‘She’s recently returned from a year spent in Africa.’

  An audible gasp went up when she answered some questions as to where she’d been. Even Dante had to admit surprise. The place she mentioned was notoriously volatile and Dante wondered what her experiences had been.

  After a moment’s hush, suddenly the conversation resumed at breakneck speed and Alicia found herself answering questions all around her. She caught Patricia’s eye at one stage and she winked at her conspiratorially, as if to say, Well done. And Alicia did feel a little dart of something like triumph, as if she’d passed some kind of test.

  That night, when the after dinner drinks had broken up, Alicia and Dante climbed the stairs to their bedrooms, which were slightly separate from everyone else’s. Alicia stopped at her door and couldn’t stop a tremor from starting in her legs. What if he—?

  ‘You obviously handled Buchanen well earlier. He can be a difficult man to deal with.’

  She whirled around and tried to gauge his expression but it was hidden in the shadows of the hall. He certainly didn’t look ready to ravish her. He looked remote and utterly unperturbed. And why did she feel so confused about that? She tried to remember what he’d said—he had no problem keeping his hands off her, and she … she felt like some kind of lust-crazed schoolgirl.

  Dante looked at her, remembering how Buchanen had cornered her after the dinner and how, despite his best efforts, he hadn’t been able to intervene. But when he had come over, Buchanen had been laughing heartily and was obviously finding Alicia to be quite inoffensive. Why should it surprise him that she’d handled Buchanen so well? After all, wasn’t this exactly what he’d wanted?

  Alicia unconsciously lifted her chin. ‘Funnily enough, Tom told me that his wife also trained as a nurse, so we had a lot in common, actually.’

  Dante raised an incredulous brow. Tom? Who would have thought? He recalled the way she’d been so warm, and then the way she’d shut down when he’d interrupted them. The way that had made him feel. His voice felt tight. ‘Just watch that you don’t lead him on to thinking you’ve got more to offer than just conversation.’

  Alicia bit back a shocked gasp but hit back. ‘God forbid. I suppose as your partner I’m going to have to get used to people thinking I’m some vacuous arm orna—’

  His hand snaked out in a heartbeat and wrapped itself around the back of her neck, fingers twisting strands of her hair and tugging. ‘Ah, ah, Alicia, no need to go for the low blow.’

  She held her head stiff. She hated him. Hated him for being the reason that she stood here now, a mass of quivering confusion and swirling feelings. ‘What can I say; you bring out the worst in me.’

  He abruptly released her and she nearly staggered back, she had held herself so stiff under his hand.

  ‘I had no idea you worked in that place.’

  She wanted to curl inwards; her lower back throbbed as if her pain was tangible.

  Dante saw the shutters come down and wondered again what had happened to her. This aspect of Alicia he hadn’t counted on. And certainly not the uncomfortable contradictions it threw up.

  She forced a nonchalant shrug. ‘You never asked.’ He opened his mouth and she spoke quickly. ‘Actually, if you don’t mind, I’d prefer not to talk about it.’

  He inclined his head and for a split second she saw a flash of something in his eyes—some flame, or fire—and her heart beat quickly in response, but then it was gone.

  He stepped back, hands in his pockets. ‘We’re conducting our meetings in the Villa Monastero in Varenna, which is directly across the lake. Boats will be taking us back and forth every day. You should come over with Patricia, meet us for lunch. Tomorrow is the only day we’ll work till evening, after that it’ll be just the mornings with the afternoons free for sightseeing. A boat will be at your disposal.’

  ‘O … OK.’ Her head swirled again with the enormity of being here with him amidst all this wealth and luxury that seemed to come so naturally.

  ‘Goodnight, Alicia.’

  ‘Goodnight,’ she said faintly, and watched him go into his room without a backward glance. She leant back on the closed door of her own room, the moon outside shedding the only light. Damn the man. She had a strong suspicion—a feeling—that she was being lulled into a false sense of security.

  But that night, with the knowledge that he lay only feet away, possibly naked, Alicia hardly slept a wink. And made sure to watch from her window in the morning until a certain tall, dark figure had leapt aboard one of the two launches and left for the ornate white villa visible through the haze across the lake. Only then did she go downstairs. And was it her fanciful imagination or had he looked up to her window just as the launch had been pulling away?

  That evening, as his boat approached the shore and the wooden walkway that led up to his villa, Dante’s blood boiled. Alicia hadn’t come over to meet them for lunch. Neither had Patricia, a reasonable voice pointed out. And they’d actually only stopped in the end for half an hour, but still … he’d found himself distracted. Which was not normal for him. He didn’t like not knowing what she was up to. He told himself it was because he didn’t trust her. He sprang down on to the stones from the walkway, he could see shapes on the terrace ahead of him.

  The boats were back. Alicia felt her heart quicken. Patricia’s light conversation made it easy to tune out a little and she was aware of footsteps crunching on the stones coming closer and closer. Alicia could feel her breath shorten. She’d wanted to go over to the Villa Monastero for lunch, not wanting to give Dante any excuse for further condemnation, but Patricia had insisted on doing some sightseeing, telling her that the men would never notice their absence and that Dante had probably only been courteous in extending the invitation. With no means of contacting him, she’d felt very keenly that he’d misinterpret her actions as being rebellious in some way.

  ‘Ah, Dante, there you are.’ Patricia rose gracefully to gre
et Dante with a kiss on both cheeks. ‘Your lovely Alicia has been the most charming company all day.’

  ‘Has she indeed?’

  Alicia stood too, aware that it was only she who heard the hard inflection in his voice. Buchanen and the others were arriving behind them, Derek coming to greet his wife also. Alicia was dismayed by Dante’s autocratic manner, the light in his eyes, so that when he reached for her and pulled her in tight against him he caught her unawares.

  His voice was low, intimate. ‘I missed you, my love. You were supposed to come and meet us for lunch …’ He caught a tendril of hair and twisted it around one finger and tugged gently. ‘Playing games, Alicia?’

  She shook her head, mesmerized by his eyes. And then some measure of sanity returned with the hubbub around them, with the knowledge that he was merely making it look authentic.

  ‘No, Dante. I didn’t realize that it had been an order. I don’t respond well to orders.’ Her mouth was set in a mutinous line and Dante had one clear desire, one way to eradicate the irritation in his blood.

  The kiss was harsh, all consuming. And brief, but not brief enough to stop Alicia’s pulse soaring or her cheeks flushing.

  He stopped and lifted his head. All she could see was dark eyes, a dark face, a cruel smile. It was time to make his intentions clear. ‘Then take this how you want—by the end of this week we are going to be lovers.’

  ‘Never,’ she breathed immediately with self-protecting swiftness, with horror at his calm assurance. ‘Absolutely no way.’

  She shook her head, even as her blood sizzled at his nearness. She tried to push free but it was futile against his strength. Eventually he let her go and only the wall at her back kept her from falling.