Seducing His Enemy's Daughter: Christmas at the Castello (bonus novella)

by Annie West

  ‘Are you even listening to me?’

  ‘Of course I am, cariño. But don’t you think it better we have this conversation when you’ve changed?’

  Her lips pursed. ‘That’s the problem. I can’t get the zip down and I don’t want to yank it. Can you?’

  On the words she turned, presenting him with her pale slender shoulders. She was so alluring, even more so when she tilted her head forward and lifted her hair. The action revealed the sweet, slender curve of her neck.

  Donato exhaled slowly, assuring himself he could unzip her dress and leave it at that. His conscience, or what passed for it, warned that seducing her in her wedding dress would be a mistake. One day she’d wear it, when she found the right man.

  The trouble was, thoughts like that awoke the dark violence in him that he’d buried years ago. Donato wanted to throttle that right man, whoever he was. He wanted to beat away any man who dared look at her.

  He wanted to muss up the pristine perfection of the dress she’d never wear for him. He wanted to wreck any chance she had of finding the groom she deserved because he wanted her for himself.

  ‘Donato? I need help here. What are you doing?’

  He stepped forward, sliding one arm around her waist and pulling her near.

  With an oof of surprise she landed against him.

  She felt different. The froth of skirt ballooning around his legs, the cinched-in waist emphasising her delicious shape and the soft pure fabric under his hand reminding him that she wasn’t for him. Despite being his lover, Ella was unsullied by his world and that was the way she’d stay. Their time together had been delightful but it was an aberration.

  Carefully, so as not to step on her long skirt, he made himself step back. He lifted his hands to the zip.

  ‘Donato? We need to talk.’

  ‘I know.’ His voice was grim. This would be the end. As soon as she knew... ‘There. That’s it.’ The zip slid down. Rather than stopping after an inch, he dragged it further, relishing the way it revealed the curve of her spine.

  He bent and pressed his lips to the sliver of bare flesh, inhaling sweet summer flowers.

  Ella pulled away in a rustle of offended satin. It took two hands now to keep the dress up and her chin lifted as she spun to watch him through suspicious eyes. ‘Don’t think you can distract me like that.’

  Her breath came in choppy little bursts and Donato knew he’d already succeeded in distracting her. He was tempted to stride across the space separating them and tug the dress away. Give in one last time to temptation, before reality intervened.

  ‘You can’t just tell me there’s going to be a wedding then waltz off like that. According to my father’s note the date’s set for a few weeks from now! He must have sent out invitations, booked caterers, the whole lot! I have to get him to cancel. This has gone on long enough.’

  ‘You’re right. It has.’

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  ELLA LOOKED INTO Donato’s stern face and cold shivered down her spine. Cold on the outside, overheated on the inside, she felt a wave of fear.

  Donato had retreated behind that old stonewalling expression she hated. She hadn’t seen it in ages and it filled her with dread.

  ‘Why don’t you want me to tell him there’s no wedding? Surely this game of yours is over.’ He’d even agreed to ensure Rob got his money back.

  Donato stiffened, his jaw hardening. Before her eyes he turned into the man she’d met at her father’s party.

  No, not him. Then at least, despite his air of superiority, there’d been heat in his gaze and a flash of humour, even if it had been at her expense.

  The man she surveyed looked dead on the inside. Ella swallowed and tasted ashes on her tongue.

  ‘Donato, what’s going on? You’re frightening me.’ Once she’d never have admitted it. But that was when he’d been her enemy. Now he was so much more.

  ‘Why don’t you get changed? We’ll talk then.’ He glanced across to the drinks trolley that he so rarely touched and Ella’s heart dived. The truth was so bad he needed alcohol to deal with it?

  ‘I prefer to talk now.’

  ‘But your dress.’ He gestured and she realised the bodice had sagged to the point of indecency.

  Backing to a sofa, Ella subsided with a puff of satin skirts. ‘That can wait. I want to know. Now.’ The need to understand had become urgent. She’d told herself she didn’t want to know about his business with her father, so long as her siblings were okay. She’d been a coward, sticking her head in the sand.

  ‘You’ve been keeping something from me, haven’t you?’ She’d known it from the first but hadn’t pushed. She’d been too caught up in dealing with her own feelings. Too busy enjoying her time with Donato.

  Ella drew a fortifying breath and spread her fingers over the plush sofa. ‘Come and tell me about it.’

  Instantly his head reared back in rejection.

  It was an instinctive movement, too quick to be deliberate, and it cut her to the core, as if he’d taken a blade to her heart.

  Ella stiffened. She’d known this dress would bring bad luck. Oh, who was she fooling? This had nothing to do with the dress. Hadn’t she known their relationship was on borrowed time? The mighty Donato Salazar with ordinary old Ella Sanderson!

  ‘Just tell me, Donato! I can’t stand the suspense.’

  His gaze slewed to the drinks trolley then away. He ripped open a button on his shirt, shoving his palm under the collar and around the back of his neck. It was a sign of stress she’d never witnessed in him. Donato Salazar ruled his world, doing what he pleased. The idea of him stressed dried Ella’s mouth.

  ‘If you insist.’ His tone was gravel. ‘It’s almost done anyway.’

  ‘What’s almost done?’ Foreboding snaked through her.

  ‘Your father’s destruction.’ Donato’s gaze met hers. Those deep-set eyes looked more black than indigo. And cold. So cold Ella huddled against the cushions.

  ‘Destruction?’ The word wobbled on her tongue as her brain seized. ‘No! You can’t mean...’ She didn’t believe it. Donato wasn’t a violent man. Not any more. Passionate, yes. Strong-willed. But not violent. He’d learned from his past.

  She snatched a quick breath, trying to slow her racing pulse.

  ‘What have you done to him?’ She met Donato’s terrible blank look.

  ‘I’ve arranged his just deserts.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘I’ve ruined him.’

  Ella slumped back, one palm to her thudding heart. She’d known Donato wouldn’t have harmed her father physically, yet relief pounded. Relief, she realised, as much for Donato as for her father.

  The consequences for Donato if he’d... It didn’t bear thinking about.

  ‘Nothing to say, Ella?’ He looked fierce, almost predatory with that harsh expression and his scar drawn tight down one clenched cheek. Yet there was something more too. Something that made her still.

  ‘I’m waiting for you to explain.’

  There it was again. A flicker of doubt. No, not doubt. Regret.

  Ella’s stomach bottomed. This was going to get worse.

  ‘By the end of the day Reg Sanderson will have nothing. The project we were negotiating will go ahead without him.’ Donato lifted his chin, daring her to protest. ‘I’ve also acquired a number of other holdings where your father had interests or, more specifically, debts.’

  ‘Let me guess. The debts have been called in?’

  Donato nodded. ‘He’ll be declared bankrupt. His creditors and so-called friends won’t forgive him that. He’ll lose everything, including the house, the luxury cars and the cruiser.’

  Strangely, Ella didn’t feel as shocked as she might have done. Her father had always lived on the edge, investing in scheme
s other businessmen avoided. His recent desperation told its own story.

  ‘You came to Sydney to destroy him.’ It wasn’t a question. It had been there for her to see from the first, if only she’d taken time to look. Donato’s thinly veiled impatience with her father had obviously been more than a sense of smug superiority.

  ‘I did.’

  Ella swallowed, shifting in her seat, wondering what else she hadn’t bothered to notice. ‘And my brother... Rob’s money? Were you genuine about getting that to him or is it gone for ever?’

  Donato’s eyebrows angled sharply down. ‘I said I would. The money is already in his account.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Relief was a wave of lightness easing her tense frame. ‘But I had to know.’

  He lifted those impressive shoulders but there was nothing casual about his shrug. It spoke of leashed energies and raw tension. ‘I understand. You grew up with a man who couldn’t be relied on to keep his word.’

  Ella stared, taking in the full measure of Donato’s disapproval. He really...hated her father.

  ‘What was I in all this?’ She waved a hand at the magnificently over-the-top wedding gown spreading like a romantic dream around her. Her nipples scraped satin where she clutched the bodice tight. ‘What was the wedding all about?’

  For too long Donato held her gaze. Long enough for that little bubble of hope to surface again. The hope that what had obviously begun as a bad joke or part of a scheme had become something more. That Donato had come to care for her. That maybe he even wanted—

  ‘Partly it was a diversion. It kept your father so distracted he wouldn’t notice anything else.’

  ‘And the other part?’ Ella’s flesh tightened across her nape. This was about her, not some financial scheme.

  ‘It was the final touch that would seal his downfall.’ Yet there was no satisfaction in Donato’s eyes. ‘I encouraged his schemes for the most grandiose society wedding. Any last cash or credit he might have had has gone on the preparations. His social standing will be destroyed when it’s called off.’

  ‘And so will the suppliers who’ll be out of pocket!’ The scheme was outrageous on so many levels.

  Then she read Donato’s expression. ‘You had a plan for that, didn’t you? What were you going to do? Pay them all when he couldn’t?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  Ella supposed the cost was nothing to a man of his wealth. But this wasn’t just about money. Her mind reeled. ‘When was it going to be called off, Donato?’

  He stared straight back. ‘As late as possible.’

  Ella nodded. ‘For maximum impact.’

  Finally she began to see. It wasn’t just her father’s money Donato wanted to take. It was his reputation, such as it was, his pride. She’d been caught up in a scheme far bigger than herself. She’d been...what was the saying?

  Collateral damage.

  Hurt scored deep, deeper than she’d imagined possible. Not even because of what he’d done to her father, but selfishly because of what he’d done to her.

  She’d actually believed Donato wanted her for herself!

  It wasn’t easy dragging metres of ballooning satin up, especially with one hand clamped to her bodice. Ella managed it as if she’d been wrangling formal gowns all her life. Amazing what adrenalin could do.

  ‘You used me!’ She shot the words at him as she stalked forward. ‘You made me a laughing stock.’ And she’d let him. He’d barely had to make a move—she’d been so busy walking into his trap, falling for a man who saw her as a convenient tool. It wasn’t the public humiliation that hurt, but the very private disappointment. She’d hoped—

  Ella’s stomach cramped and she slammed to a swaying halt as pain unravelled inside. Her eyes blurred as she realised how much she’d trusted him.

  ‘Ella—’

  ‘What was the plan, Donato?’ Anger simmered like hot oil under her skin. ‘To leave me at the altar? Would that have made you smile?’

  ‘No!’ He looked genuinely stunned. ‘You weren’t going to marry me. You always insisted you wouldn’t.’

  Ella drew a shuddery breath. The horror on Donato’s face smashed the last of her stupid hopes.

  See, that’s what he really thinks of us as a couple.

  The trouble was she’d begun to believe her own far-fetched dreams. She looked down at the bright glitter on the long gown. Not diamonds, of course, but cheap imitations.

  ‘That doesn’t excuse the fact you used me, Donato. Just as you planned to use Felicity.’ Her voice shook and she snapped her mouth shut while she gathered herself. ‘Whatever grudge you have against my father, did we really deserve that?’

  She wanted to rage and howl. She wanted to demand he stop this pretence and become again the man she’d fallen in love with. The man who cared for her.

  Except that had been a sham. An ache started in her chest, thrumming stronger with each pulse beat.

  ‘I didn’t want to hurt you, Ella.’ Donato stood stiffly, his hands by his sides, keeping his distance. ‘You know that. I was going to find a way to make it up to you.’

  ‘And how, pray tell, were you going to do that?’ Ella stood tall, every sinew and muscle taut with distress. ‘With cash? Is that why you’re paying back Rob’s money? For services rendered?’ The words stuck in her throat and for a frantic moment she thought they’d choke her.

  ‘Ella.’ Finally, finally, Donato moved towards her. But it was too late. She’d come to her senses. She shoved out her hand, stopping him.

  ‘Why do you hate him so much? This isn’t business...this is...’

  ‘Retribution.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Retribution, for what he did to my mother.’

  Ella gasped. ‘You attacked the man who killed your mother. You’re not saying—?’

  ‘That Reg Sanderson had a hand in that?’ Donato shook his head, his expression as grim as she’d ever seen it. ‘No. Though he might just as well have.’

  ‘I don’t understand. Did my father know your mother?’ Ella frowned. Was this some misunderstanding? Except Donato didn’t make mistakes. Not when it mattered.

  ‘Why don’t you sit, Ella?’ He moved as if to usher her to a chair.

  ‘Just tell me, Donato!’

  He sighed, his hand spearing through his hair. He didn’t look like a man celebrating the success of his schemes. He looked like a man strung too taut.

  ‘I doubt he ever met her. To him she was just merchandise.’

  Something cold and hard slammed through Ella as Donato’s words struck home. She had a bad, bad feeling.

  ‘Go on.’

  Donato turned towards the window. What did he see? The gorgeous gardens or something else?

  ‘She didn’t choose to be a prostitute, you know. She came to Australia thinking she’d be working as a chambermaid in a big hotel. The plan was to send money back to her family.’

  Ella frowned. ‘Your mother migrated here?’ No wonder Salazar spoke Spanish fluently.

  He laughed, the sound short and unamused. ‘Not legally. She believed an immigration agent had sorted it before she left. She actually paid for the privilege. But that turned out to be a lie. She was trafficked into a brothel, brought in as a virtual slave.’

  Ella put out a groping hand for support. Finding nothing she took a stumbling step to an armchair and leaned against it.

  ‘A slave?’ She’d read about such things but still it didn’t seem real.

  Donato’s face, as stiff as cast bronze, convinced her. ‘They took her passport, said she had to work for them to pay off her debt in coming to Australia.’

  ‘Who were they?’

  Eyes of polished stone met hers. ‘Ah, that’s the question. There was the man who ran the brothel, and his enforcers, but t
here were others behind the scheme. Others who made a fortune, exploiting women like my mother.’

  Ella rubbed her hand over her breastbone to ease the painful thud of her heart. ‘My father was one of them, is that what you’re saying?’

  She wanted to shout that it wasn’t true. That he wouldn’t stoop to that. But she couldn’t. Everything she knew of her father pointed to the fact he’d use anyone. He had no conscience when it came to making the money he craved. Her stomach writhed.

  Donato nodded. ‘I’m sorry.’ There was regret in his deep voice, as if he read her horror and shame.

  Ella breathed hard, fighting dizziness. She felt light-headed.

  ‘Ella, sit down.’

  He moved towards her and she shook her head. ‘No. I’m all right. Tell me the rest.’ She had to know it all.

  ‘There’s not much more to tell.’ Yet the starkness imprinted on his features belied that. ‘She was kept there for years, like many others, too scared to try going to the authorities, too ashamed to even dream about returning home.’ He paused. When he spoke again his voice grated. ‘I don’t even know where she came from.’ His gaze captured hers and the raw anguish in his eyes cut through her. ‘Not even what country. She couldn’t bring herself to talk of the past because she hated what she’d become. She couldn’t face the thought of confronting her family with that.’

  ‘Donato.’ Ella reached out to him, but he didn’t even notice. Her hand fell to her side.

  What could she say? She could barely comprehend what his mother had gone through. Ella shuddered at the thought of being forced like that. No wonder Donato’s mother had grabbed the chance for a ‘normal’ life with a man who had promised to take her away. No wonder the young Donato had been so desperate to do the right thing in their new home so they wouldn’t be turned out.

  Ella huddled down into the loose gown, seeking warmth yet knowing nothing could counter the chill in her bones.