Surrendering to the Italian's Command Page 8

  Was it coincidental that she found herself in a place she had never even dreamt existed? Feeling things she had never felt, never wanted to feel and unable to stop imagining herself losing control with a man who was not at all safe... Or was it fate?

  * * *

  The slamming of doors had interrupted Danilo’s online study of the statistical breakdown of surgical success rates for the few surgeons who had so far attempted the technique that in theory could give his sister some mobility back.

  He was glad of the interruption. The numbers did not make easy reading, even with a glass of brandy in his hand. He wasn’t drunk but he’d had enough to blur the edges a bit and lower the volume on the uncomfortable questions circling in his head.

  When, glass in hand, he went to investigate the commotion he discovered one of the questions—or should that be one of the answers?—standing in the hallway, her face covered by her hands. Anything approaching mellow vanished as heat streaked through his body.

  He lifted the glass and over the rim took the opportunity to study Tess unobserved. Under the shield of his long dark lashes his eyes made a slow, predatory, upwards sweep from her feet, in the heels that gave her an extra three inches. She looked fresh, gorgeous and very sexy. By the time he reached her glossy head he decided he had either drunk too much or not nearly enough.

  ‘So, a bad night, then?’

  The deep drawled comment made Tess leap like a startled deer and spin around.

  About a dozen doors opened off the massive marble-floored central hallway. The one that was now open led to a room Tess had never before entered: Danilo’s study.

  Danilo himself, looking tall, sleek and panther like, stood framed there and the rush of hormones she experienced made her head spin and her knees sag. A wave of intense longing washed like a relentless tide over her until her autonomic responses kicked in to equal the pressure building in her chest. She took a deep, shuddering breath.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she squeaked, her voice accusingly shrill in her own ears.

  ‘I live here.’ His voice was mild; his stare was not. The dark blaze in his eyes made her stomach muscles quiver.

  ‘I know.’ Even before he reacted with a sardonic look of amusement Tess flushed and felt stupid—she was recognising a theme here—and as the guilty conviction took hold that he could see into her head it was all she could do to stop herself blurting out the secret. Which one?

  ‘Sorry.’ Act normally. He doesn’t know. He can’t know, you’re being paranoid. ‘You startled me.’ She managed an edgy smile; if only that were all he was doing to her! As if his dark stare acted like some sort of truth drug, she had to endure the relentless, hormonal urge that reacted indecently to his presence.

  While she was wondering if he had this effect on all women a memory surfaced in her head of the text she had received from Fiona on her first night here. She’d been able to laugh about it then; now, days later, it would be a struggle even to raise a smile.

  Well, you’ve met him in the flesh, so how gorgeous is he on a scale of one to ten and, more importantly—would you?

  Tess had responded in a similarly jokey style—had it really been only six days ago?

  If I said he’s a fifteen he’d be the first to agree—and, no, definitely not!

  Actually, since then she had noticed Danilo was surprisingly lacking in the vanity department, possibly because he seemed to be oblivious to the way women stared at him. The other part of her response held true. She took comfort in the blatant lie and more comfort from the knowledge that she was never likely to be called upon to prove it, not when there were blondes like the one he’d been with tonight.

  Pity her hormones had simply not got the message. He did look sinfully sexy standing there, one shoulder wedged against the acanthus-carved door frame, his white shirt unbuttoned at the neck, not a lot but enough to reveal a deep vee of golden skin and a smattering of darkly curling chest hair, which was too much for her comfort.

  Mouth dry, heart pounding, she was simultaneously ashamed and excited. Guilt added yet another layer of discomfort to the moment. Tess dampened down a spurt of panic. If he asked her outright would she lie? More to the point should she lie?

  Wasn’t her silence as bad as lying?

  Her guilt made her see suspicion in his face, the planes and strong angles emphasised by the dark stubble on his jaw and lean cheeks enhancing the fallen-angel quality of his features. As he dragged his hand back and forth across his hair she noticed that he looked heavy-eyed, as though he’d just tumbled out of bed.

  Maybe he had?

  Her stomach gave a deep lurch as her agile mind made another leap—or not bed, she speculated as an image of the tall blonde flashed through her thoughts, the woman’s red-painted nails pressed into his hard, golden flesh.

  Perhaps, she thought sickly, they hadn’t made it that far?

  She took a deep breath, reminded herself that Danilo Raphael’s sex life was none of her business. So what if the blonde, looking less cool and more mussed than earlier, was behind that door stretched out on a sofa waiting for...? She pressed a hand to her stomach. A vivid imagination was at times a curse.

  ‘Sorry to disturb you,’ she mumbled, her expression determinedly composed as she stared at the intricate carving on the wall frieze to his right as though it were the most fascinating thing she had ever seen. A glimpse of some half-dressed woman was not a memory she wanted, though her eyes seemed to have other ideas. ‘I was on my way...’ She stopped. He was barefoot; in her head the detail confirmed all her suspicions.

  ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘Not a thing,’ she said stonily.

  ‘I’m having a nightcap.’

  She lifted her eyes from his feet and saw that Danilo was holding a drink in one hand. The amber liquid in the heavy crystal glass caught the light from the central chandelier and made her blink. She met his eyes, suddenly picking up on details she’d missed: the almost feral gleam in his half-closed, heavy-lidded eyes, the almost combustible tension in his lean body. He was like a man who had started something and...?

  Her eyes widened as her imagination once more went into manic overdrive mode. Had he and the blonde argued? They’d seemed pretty friendly when she’d seen them, Tess thought sourly. Maybe the woman had a high-powered career and had been called away leaving him frustrated...drowning his sorrows? Looking for a substitute?

  ‘Would you like to join me?’

  The husky invitation brought her speculation to a dead halt, though she’d been so caught up that it took her a few moments to focus on what he’d said.

  ‘Join...?’ Her eyes moved past him to the room where she could see a ceiling-high wall of bookshelves.

  ‘I’m inviting you for a nightcap, not to join an orgy.’ He rolled the word around his tongue as though he were tasting it, seeming to take pleasure from her discomfort.

  Discomfort was a massive understatement, Tess felt like a pawn and she didn’t like the sensation. ‘Now, there’s a word you don’t get to use every day.’

  He arched a dark brow, a half-smile quivering. ‘Nightcap?’

  ‘You’re alone?’ The incautious words were out before she could censor them.

  ‘Who do you think I have in there?’ He nodded at the room behind him without taking his eyes from Tess’s face.

  ‘It isn’t any of my business.’

  He burst out laughing.

  Tess didn’t join in. It was hard when you knew you were the joke.

  ‘Sorry, it’s just that you look...’ He paused, took a swallow of his drink and drawled, ‘Like an outraged nun.’ If nuns wore dresses that short! His eyes dropped to the outline of her hips and bare, smooth calves, and the ever-present lust developed claws and dug deep. ‘I could feel your disapproval across the bar earlier.’

  So he had seen them.

  ‘I was simply surprised,’ she managed with something that resembled cool. ‘It was quite a coincidence we had... At least Nat had receiv
ed the message that you were in Florence.’

  ‘So you weren’t stalking me?’ He watched her expression freeze and swore, his teasing attitude vanishing in the blink of an eye as she bit down hard on her trembling lower lip. The sight of the pinpricks of blood sent his protective instincts into overdrive, shaking loose a need to comfort inside him.

  ‘Sorry,’ he roughed out, his face a mask of contrition. ‘Bad choice of verb. You shouldn’t worry, you know, I’m pretty sure that you’ll have no problems with that guy in the future.’

  His trip to Dublin two days earlier, where he had a team working around the clock to deliver a report on the viability of the plan to redevelop a derelict industrial area, had meant a stopover in London could barely be classed as an inconvenience.

  The stalker, according to the detailed dossier that had landed on his desk, was a man who lived his life to a pretty rigid schedule. The ‘query OCD’ written in the margin had seemed a good call to Danilo—which had made locating him easy.

  The rest had not been rocket science. Once he had convinced the crazy that he was dealing with someone who was actually crazier than he was, it had been easy. Fear was a great motivator.

  Tess didn’t share his confidence, but, unwilling to reveal just how much the situation awaiting her in London was preying on her mind, she managed a cautious, ‘I hope so.’ Then surprised herself by revealing a decision she had made the previous evening, but not the repeating nightmare that had inspired it. ‘I might swallow my pride and ask my mum’s advice when I get back.’ She caught his questioning look and added, by way of explanation, ‘She knows some people...’

  ‘That sounds ominous. Should I watch my step?’

  Her smile glimmered as she imagined her mother as part of a criminal gang. ‘Not those sort of people. She has contacts, with some women’s charities, among other things.’

  ‘She sounds an interesting woman.’

  ‘She is.’

  ‘I am surprised you haven’t called on her expertise before.’

  ‘My mum’s help comes at a price. Look, can we talk about something else?’

  He lifted his brows a little at the tautness of her voice but complied with her request. ‘I have noticed the change in Natalia since you arrived.’

  She tensed, waiting for the invisible blade she could feel above her head to fall. Did she tell him that Nat’s affair preceded her arrival or keep quiet?

  ‘I can’t remember the last time she went out.’

  She had been so sure that he knew that the unexpected reprieve made her body sag with a relief that was short-lived, as she realised that the last time Nat went out was likely as not for a secret meeting with her boyfriend.

  Tess didn’t know for sure. She hadn’t asked and she wasn’t going to; she had enough secrets to guard.

  ‘But I’m sorry you didn’t have a good evening.’

  ‘It was fine,’ she lied, bringing her lashes down in a protective sweep. ‘I have a headache.’ That at least was not a lie.

  ‘Well, I’m glad that you persuaded Nat to go out. However, I’d prefer it if in future you run such things past me.’

  Tess stiffened at the casual addition. ‘Let me get this straight. What are you saying exactly? That when Nat suggests we go for a drive I have to say, “Hold on a moment, I just have to go ask your brother”—which, incidentally, might be hard as you’re never here! Good grief, Danilo, aren’t the walls here high enough without you adding more restrictions?’

  His expression had grown colder as she’d been speaking and by the end of her impassioned speech his eyes were ice chips. ‘Natalia is free to come and go as she pleases. I simply—’

  ‘I’m not your sister’s nursemaid and I think I made it quite clear when you made that particular suggestion before that I’m not about to act as your spy.’ That would make me a double agent.

  He made a clicking sound of aggravation with his tongue, dug his hands into his pockets and levered his long, lean length away from the wall. ‘You really do have a talent for drama. I didn’t ask you to be a spy.’

  His attitude, the male arrogance oozing out of his every perfect pore, just touched a nerve and made her reckless. ‘It’s small wonder, if you treat her like a prisoner, that she doesn’t feel she can discuss things with you!’

  ‘But she discusses them with you?’

  Tess’s outrage dissolved like a spoonful of sugar in an ocean. She faked a smile and reminded herself that guilt was making her paranoid. But the way he was looking at her, as though he knew...but he couldn’t—could he?

  So, suddenly she had nothing to say for herself? While this was a pleasant change it did not lessen Danilo’s anger at the accusations she’d already made. The very real possibility she might be right intensified those feelings of outrage, and left the taste of failure in his mouth.

  Oh, he could shrug off the claim that Nat was afraid of him, and obviously there were things that she didn’t tell him, that was normal, but he hated the distance that had grown up between them recently and he hated that he didn’t know how to fix it. And if Nat hating him was the price of her walking again it was one he was willing to pay, but it did not make the prospect any more palatable.

  ‘While I admire confidence, is it conceivable after what...a week here that you can be considered an expert on my relationship with my sister? But who knows?’ Hands thrust into his pockets, he lifted his broad shoulders in a contemptuous shrug and sketched a smile. ‘If you had run tonight’s plan past me I would have been able to explain that because my sister’s treatment is ongoing we are scheduled to fly to London tomorrow to see a consultant. The trip will be tiring for her and, if asked,’ he drawled, ‘I would have advised an early night, if of course that would have met with your approval.’

  With each successive sarcastic stab from his cruel tongue Tess felt as if she were getting smaller, shrinking, so that by the time he had finished with her she’d moved beyond mortified blushes, was as pale as paper and felt about six inches tall.

  ‘If Nat had told me—’ She closed her mouth, pretty sure that ignorance would be no defence in Danilo’s eyes.

  ‘Nat doesn’t know.’

  She stared, too bewildered by the admission to be tactful. ‘Why? Was it a last-minute thing?’

  It was a toss-up which he found more aggravating: being asked to explain his actions, or feeling the need to do so. ‘No. I made the arrangements before I left London.’ And he was not about to question his decision; it was the right one. ‘If Nat had known she would have worked herself up, become...upset...’ She was still going to get tense and tearful, but at least this way she would not have spent the last week in a state of nervous anticipation.

  So instead of that, Natalia had met up with her secret lover and become...upset. If Danilo had known...? Even as Tess closed down that avenue of speculation she acknowledged that, as things stood, it was inevitable that at some point she’d find out exactly how Danilo would react—unless Nat gave up Marco, which did not seem likely.

  ‘You see, while I may lack your expertise, I have done this before and I do know my sister.’

  Not as well as you think. ‘So you’ll tell Nat tomorrow.’

  He nodded. ‘The appointment is in the afternoon.’

  ‘How long will Natalia be in London?’ And what, Tess wondered, was she meant to be doing while the woman she was being paid to be a companion to took a trip?

  ‘Just overnight and it’s we.’

  Tess shrugged. She had taken it as read that Danilo would be accompanying his sister.

  ‘Only a flying visit, it depends on what Nat wants, but we could stay overnight or fly straight back, so don’t pack too much.’

  ‘Me? You want me to come?’

  He arched a brow and looked impatient. ‘You can’t be company for Nat when you’re in another country.’

  ‘So you’ve booked my ticket?’

  He looked at her blankly and she immediately felt stupid. Unlike her own, Danilo Raphael’s
world did not involve last-minute bargain flights.

  ‘Nat’s physio session is when?’

  ‘Eight-thirty.’

  ‘I’ll cancel. It might be a good idea if you were on hand...’

  ‘To take the flak?’

  ‘I am more than capable of taking the flak, but if you could be there to...’ Head bent, he dragged a hand across his face, the gesture so revealing that Tess’s heart ached.

  ‘Just be there, I would be...’ his eyes brushed hers and the pause lengthened before he added an abrupt and harsh ‘...grateful.’

  In her head she could see the door closing with a decisive whoosh and a dismissive click and she felt something approaching panic. He couldn’t go! She needed more from him.

  ‘So what time?’

  Hand on the study door handle, Danilo swung back, his stance tense as he failed to stop himself imagining a scenario where he didn’t reply, he just took those two fatal steps, hauled her into him, felt the collision of her soft body into his and discovered if those lips tasted as good as they looked. They would and he would take his time, he would... The effort to drag his thoughts away from the fantasy spinning in his head drew an audible grunt of effort from his throat.

  ‘I haven’t decided yet.’

  The door closed.

  Hands clenched, she turned away. How pathetic are you, Tess?

  The answer, disturbingly, was that where Danilo Raphael was concerned—very!

  * * *

  She discovered the next day just how different travelling Raphael style was when they had boarded the private jet. Natalia took the luxury for granted, but it reduced Tess to a state of wide-eyed wonder, which she pushed to one side as she attempted to make conversation with Natalia. She managed to coax a smile or two out of the other woman but in the end, despite all her efforts to distract her, she lapsed into moody silence.

  Distracting hadn’t worked so Tess decided to face the elephant in the room. It turned out not quite as she hoped.

  ‘You must be excited.’

  ‘Excited?’

  ‘About the appointment, the possibility—’

  ‘That I’ll walk again? There have been other appointments, a lot of them, there will be more. Danilo will never give up. He believes in miracles.’