Читать книгу Sleeping With The Enemy - Annie West - Страница 13

CASTELLO di Casari was far more than an ancient family fortress. It was impenetrable. Nico surveyed the castle rising out of the sheer rock in the middle of Lago di Casari and felt the overwhelming sensation of loneliness and despair that he’d always felt when returning here.

The castle had been modernized over the years, so that its medieval character remained but every modern comfort was provided for. Nico had not been here since his father’s death just over a month ago. Why he’d thought to return here now, he wasn’t quite certain.

Until he glanced over at the woman sitting stiffly beside him in the helicopter. Yes, it was an excellent place to stash an uncooperative female. He could hardly credit that the woman with the riotous hair and lush mouth was little Valentina D’Angeli, but his brain was becoming more accustomed to the fact by the minute.

Just as it was becoming accustomed to the fact she was pregnant with his child.

Until this afternoon, he would have stated it was impossible, but he’d been thinking back to that night and remembering what he’d done differently with her. He had used a condom, it was true, but he remembered it had torn as he had removed it. Now he wondered if it might have torn earlier and he’d only noticed as the tear grew.

Regardless, she was here and she was pregnant. And he wasn’t letting her go, because if he did, he had no illusions that her brother would do everything in his power to keep Nico from the child.

And Nico wasn’t allowing that to happen. He kept what was his.

The helicopter sank onto the landing pad and the rotors slowed. A man bent over and approached the craft. Then the door opened and Giuseppe’s smiling face was there.

“My lord, we are overjoyed that you have come,” the majordomo said.

“It’s good to see you again, Giuseppe,” Nico replied, descending from the helicopter and turning to assist Valentina.

Giuseppe was a short man, not quite five foot five inches tall, and he tilted his head back to look up at Nico. “I am sorry about your father, my lord. We were all saddened by the marchese’s death.”

Nico clapped the other man on the shoulder. He didn’t feel anything inside, hadn’t since he’d gotten the news, but he knew he was expected to show emotion over his father’s death. It was the correct thing to do regardless that his father had done nearly everything he could in life to alienate his only son.

“Thank you, Giuseppe. He lived life as he wanted to, sì? He died as he lived, and I am sure he is at peace.”

Giuseppe’s old eyes were suspiciously watery. “Sì, sì.”

A couple of staff members came forward to collect the luggage as Nico threaded his fingers into Valentina’s and brought her to his side. She didn’t resist, though he could feel her stiffening as her soft body came into contact with his.

“This is Signorina D’Angeli,” Nico said. “She will be staying with us for a while.”

Giuseppe didn’t betray by word or expression that he understood the significance of Valentina’s name, but Nico didn’t doubt for a moment that the older man did. Giuseppe followed the motorcycle Grand Prix circuit and would certainly know the famous name. He would never ask questions, however.

“Signorina,” he said, bowing over her hand in a courtly gesture. “Welcome to Castello di Casari.”

“Thank you,” Valentina replied without a trace of the stiffness that Nico could feel in her. He had to admire her ability to appear as if she actually wanted to be here. Giuseppe was none the wiser as she smiled at him graciously.

“We will need a meal in an hour or so,” Nico said. “Can you do this, Giuseppe?”

The man dragged his attention back to Nico with some reluctance. “Sì, my lord. The chef has been busy since we received the news of your impending arrival.”

“Excellent. Please have it served on the terrazzo.”

“Sì, my lord.”

With another smile at Valentina, Giuseppe went off to oversee the staff. Nico still had her hand captured in his, and he led her across the gray helipad and down the stairs to a door, which was a side entrance to the castle.

“I’m sorry about your father,” she said as they entered the modern glass-and-chrome room that his father had built as a waiting room for the helicopter. “I should have said that earlier.”

“Thank you,” Nico said automatically, though it irritated him to do so. Why couldn’t he simply tell the truth? That he wasn’t sad? That he felt nothing but anger at the man who’d left him the title and the chaos that went along with it? He was right now pillaging Gavretti Manufacturing in order to repair the damage to all the Gavretti holdings.

He would save his legacy, but at what cost? Now more than ever it was important he do so. He had a child on the way, and he intended to hand over an intact empire when the time came. Unlike his father had done.

“I read that he died of a heart attack,” Valentina said from behind him.

“He did.” Nico stopped and turned toward her. “He also died with a smile on his face, in the bed of his latest mistress. She was twenty.”

Valentina’s lips dropped open and he had a sudden urge to close them with his own. To plunder their sweetness for one more glimpse of the bliss he’d felt that night in Venice.

“Oh,” she said, her cheeks reddening. Nico wanted to laugh, but he didn’t. She was still so innocent, no matter that he’d done his best to corrupt her that night. Desire sliced into him then, hot and sharp.

If anything, it angered him to feel this way toward her. Toward a D’Angeli.

“He had money, cara, and a title. Women like that sort of thing, whether they are young or old.”

“Not all women,” she said.

“This has not been my experience.”

She looked haughty. “Then maybe you’re not meeting the right kind of women.”

“If they are women, then they are the right kind.”

She made a noise that sounded like disgust. “How did I ever fall for your smooth words that night?”

He reached out and stroked his fingers along her soft cheek. She gasped as he did so, but did not pull away. Sparks shot through his skin at the touch, made his body hunger sharply for hers.

Her violet eyes were wide. He wondered if she knew they glittered with heat and need. Whatever this was, she felt it, too. Perhaps, for her, it was the lure of the forbidden. Or perhaps it was simply that he was a man and she a woman and they were attracted to each other.

It didn’t have to be complicated, and yet it felt as if it was the most complicated thing on earth.

“You fell,” he said softly, “because you wanted to.”

She had no signal. Tina tossed her phone onto the bed in disgust. She’d tried several times to send a text to Lucia, but there was no signal out here in the middle of this lake.

This place was, she had to admit, magnificent. She pushed open the double doors onto the balcony, which ran the entire width of the house, and stood in the sunshine. The sun’s rays were lengthening as it neared dusk, but her view of the surrounding area was not yet diminished. Castello di Casari sat in the lake, but ringing the lake were mountains punctuated by small villages while vacation homes of the rich and famous perched high on the rocks.

The mountains were deep emerald, blooming with plants and flowers; in the distance, the tallest peaks were wreathed in white. Tina sighed. She could see civilization, but she could not reach it. The castle was built on a small island in the lake, its massive towers and walls taking over the entire island.

She went over to the stone balustrade and leaned against it. Below her, the lake rippled in deep blue currents. There was a sailboat a distance out, and a motorboat zipping by closer in. Pots of pink bougainvillea spilled over in regular intervals around the balcony, and there was a grouping of tables and chairs not too far away. She walked over and sat in one of the chairs, content to sit still and be at peace for a while.

She’d been relieved to find that she had her own room, though she hadn’t truly expected Nico would try to share a room with her. What for? He clearly didn’t want her anymore, no matter that he strummed his fingers over her skin and her body ached for him.

He had simply done it to prove a point. She had fallen because she’d wanted to, he’d said.

And he was right. She had wanted to. Because she’d been overcome by the feelings and sensations ricocheting through her that night, and because she’d wanted more. She’d wanted to see where the feelings led her.

He, however, had seduced her because she was a woman and she was willing.

Tina snorted in disgust. His father had died in bed with a twenty-year-old. Nico would no doubt do the same someday. What a fine father he would make for her baby. She was beginning to understand why her mother had been so secretive—what if her own father had been so terrible?

Renzo knew who his father was, and it had done nothing but cause him pain. He had not told her that, but their mother had. Renzo’s pain was the reason her mother gave for not telling Tina what she wanted to know.

Maybe she’d been right after all.

She sat in the sun until it disappeared behind the mountain. It was still light out, but growing darker much faster now. She still wore jeans and sandals, but she’d removed her jacket and scarf. Now she returned to her room and retrieved them.

There was a knock on her door. The man who had greeted them at the landing pad was there, smiling at her pleasantly. “Signorina, his lordship asked me to tell you that dinner is prepared. You can reach the terrazzo by going out on the balcony and taking the steps down to the next level.”

“Thank you,” Tina replied. She wanted to refuse to join Nico, but she was surprisingly hungry. The anti-nausea medication the doctor had given her had worked wonders and she actually had an appetite for once.

She didn’t change for dinner, determined that she would not do that at least. She was here under protest, not as a willing guest, so to hell with the niceties. Frau Decker would be horrified at her lack of manners, but Frau Decker was in Switzerland. Besides, her old teacher had never addressed a situation in which a lady might be held captive by a gentleman against her will.

Tina frowned wryly. Whatever would the good woman say if she could see this place and the man who waited at the dinner table? Quite probably, like most women, she would giggle and fawn over him.

Tina went onto the balcony and walked the length of it before finding the stairs down to the next level. There, a large table and at least ten chairs had pride of place beside a stunning view of soaring cliffs directly across the lake.

The table was set for two, with crisp white napkins, crystal goblets, silver flatware and pristine white plates. Nico stood with his back to her, looking out at the cliffs and holding a glass of wine from which he occasionally took a sip.

She studied his broad back, reluctant to interrupt his thoughts and turn them toward her once more. He’d changed, she noted with surprise. Instead of the suit, he wore a pair of stonewashed jeans and a black shirt. His hair curled over his collar, and for a moment she longed to go over and slide her fingers into the silkiness of it as she had done that night.

Tina shivered involuntarily, but not from cold. Her body was hot, her blood thick and syrupy in her veins. He did that to her, and it disconcerted her that he still could.

She took the rest of the steps down and Nico turned, his gaze skimming her lightly as he did so. She tilted her chin up, as she’d been taught, and bore his scrutiny as if it were nothing.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I’ve been better,” she replied.

He appeared concerned. “Do you still feel nauseous?”

Guilt pricked her. “I’m not ill anymore, thanks to the medication. No, I was thinking more along the lines of how this is my first abduction.”

She didn’t expect him to smile, but he did, and it caught at her heart though it should not. “Mine, too.”

“How fortunate,” she said crisply. “We can enjoy the experience together.”

He came over and pulled her chair out, and she realized she’d actually been standing there as if she’d expected it. How silly, and how very like her at the same time. She only hoped he didn’t notice how she blushed.

His fingers skimmed over her shoulders after he pushed her chair in, and twined in her hair. She went very still, sparks zipping along her spine and behind her ears. It hurt, and it felt like the most wonderful thing all at once.

She wanted him to keep touching her, to slide his fingers against her scalp and then along her neck, down to her breasts. She wanted it far more than she should.

And then his breath was in her ear, and a deep shiver rolled through her.

“I would not say enjoy so much as endure, perhaps,” he said before dropping his hand and taking his own seat.

Tina picked up her water and took a sip. She felt raw inside, exposed, as if he’d seen to the deepest heart of her and knew that her body betrayed her every time he was near. “I was being sarcastic.”

His eyes glittered darkly. “Yes, I realize this. And I was simply saying what you were thinking.”

They were silent while the food arrived. There was an antipasti platter, a delicate angel-hair pasta in sauce, broiled fish, verdure and an array of cheeses. The women who’d brought the meal disappeared and Nico proceeded to serve her. She didn’t say anything while he filled her plate. Once he finished, he poured more sparkling water into her glass.

She waited while he began to fill his own plate, but he stopped and looked at her. “Eat, Valentina.”

“I will,” she said softly. “I’m waiting for you.”

“Don’t wait.”

“It’s not polite to start eating.”

“To hell with polite. Eat.”

She picked up an olive and popped it into her mouth. “Everyone calls me Tina,” she said. “You might as well, too.”

“If you prefer it.”

She shrugged. “I don’t, but it’s what my friends call me.”

He arched an eyebrow, and she couldn’t help but think he looked like the devil, all sinful and dark and tempting. “Are we friends then?”

“Hardly. But Valentina makes me think I’m in trouble.” She ate another olive and sighed. “Which I suppose I am, really.”

“Are you?”

“It certainly seems that way. I started the day in Rome and I’d made plans to go to Capri. This is not Capri.”

He inclined his head. “No, it’s prettier. And more exclusive.”

She took a bite of pasta. It was delicious and she nearly moaned with the pleasure of eating solid food again for the first time in days. A light breeze blew over them then, and she was glad she’d put her jacket on again. It wasn’t unpleasant, far from it, but it would be too cool without sleeves. “Did you grow up here?”

“No.”

“I imagine your family has a lot of homes.”

“Yes.”

Tina pushed an olive around her plate. “Which was your favorite?”

His gaze speared into her then, intense and dark and forbidding. His smooth jaw was tight, and she realized that she’d stumbled into something he didn’t want to discuss. It made no sense to her. He’d grown up with so much, while she and Mama and Renzo had lived in tiny apartments in back alleys for most of her childhood.

“I have no favorite,” he said shortly. “I spent much of my time away at school.”

Sympathy flooded her, though she couldn’t imagine his experience being bad. He was an aristocrat, wealthy and very beautiful. He would have been the sun around which the other kids orbited.

“I did, too, once I hit fifteen,” she said. “It wasn’t a good time to go away.”

“It never is.” He took a sip of wine. “I went to school when I was six. I came home on breaks until I was seventeen.” He shrugged. “So I have no particularly favorite house. I spent more time at school than I did here, or in any of the Gavretti estates.”

“I didn’t know,” she said softly. “I’m sorry.”

His eyes were as hard as diamonds. “There is nothing to be sorry about. I received a spectacular education and went to a top university.”

“And spent summers with Renzo in the garage,” she added.

“Yes.”

Tina let out a heavy sigh. “Did you at least enjoy the time you spent with us? I had thought you did, but I was young. It’s just that you seemed … happy.”

She thought she might have said too much, but he only looked toward the cliffs and didn’t say anything for a long moment. “I was,” he finally said. “I enjoyed building the prototype with Renzo.”

“And yet you left. And Renzo refuses to speak of you to this day. What happened?”

His head whipped around again, his eyes spearing into her. “It’s not important.”

Impulsively, she reached for his hand, grasped it in hers. His skin was warm, and the blood rushed through her veins just from this contact, making her feel lightheaded and confused.

“It is important, Nico. I want you and Renzo to be friends again. I want it to be the way it was.”

She thought he would jerk away, but he turned her hand in his, traced his fingers in her palm while she shivered deep inside. “It can never be the way it was, cara. You are a woman now, not a child. You know life does not move backward.”

Hot tears pressed against her eyelids. “I wish it did. For the sake of our baby, I wish I could fix whatever is wrong between you and Renzo.”

Because, no matter what happened between them, he was a part of her life now. Through this baby, the Gavrettis and D’Angelis would always be connected. And it made her sad to think it would not be easy for any of them.

He sat back and let her go. The air wafting over her skin made her feel cold suddenly. “You cannot fix it, Tina. No one can.”

She sucked in a deep breath. “I refuse to believe that.”

“Then you are a fool.”

She looked at him for a long moment. “I refuse to believe that, too,” she said, her throat aching.

“Believe what you like, but it does not alter reality,” he told her coolly. “Now eat, or we will never leave this table.”

She did as he commanded, but only for the baby’s sake. The food, which was delicious, failed to give her any pleasure. The more she thought of Nico and her brother, of the way they used to be and the way they were now, the less she tasted of the food.

There had to be a way to repair whatever had gone wrong, if only one of them would tell her about it. She thought of Renzo in the Caribbean with his wife and was thankful they were away for now. She shuddered to think what would happen if he were at home.

It would be a true clash of the titans the next time these men met, and she could not bear the idea she would be the catalyst.

Tina dropped the fork. “I want to know what happens next,” she demanded, her heart hot with feeling. He’d taken her from Rome, brought her here, but for what purpose? He couldn’t really intend for her to stay with him indefinitely.

Nico glanced over at her, seemingly impervious to the turmoil raging within her. “Dessert, I imagine.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

The look he gave her was long and heavy with meaning. Her pulse snapped in her veins until she was certain he must see it thrumming in her neck. Dread lay thick inside her the longer he watched her without speaking.

“Tell me,” she said when the silence was more than she could bear. “I have a right to know.”

“What do you think will happen, Tina?”

She darted her tongue over her lower lip. “I’m not quite sure. I doubt you intend to keep me here for the next few months, no matter what you implied earlier. That would be ridiculous. And unnecessary.”

“I disagree,” he said, his voice as smooth as fine wine. “It is very necessary.”

“Why?” she asked, apprehension twisting her belly into knots. “I want you to be a part of the baby’s life. I won’t deny you access.”

One dark eyebrow arched. “You say that now. But what about when Renzo returns?” He shook his head. “No, that is not acceptable. You aren’t going anywhere, Tina. You’re staying here with me.”

Tina gripped the edges of her seat and willed herself to be calm. “You can’t force me to stay,” she said, her voice brittle to her own ears.

He leaned back and spread his hands to encompass their surroundings. “Can I not? We are on an island. The only way on or off is by helicopter or boat—and I control both of those things.”

Her stomach plummeted through the stone floor of the terrazzo even as a chill shuddered through her. “You’re being purposely contrary. Renzo will come looking for me. You can’t prevent that.”

Nico took a leisurely sip of wine, studying her through lowered lids. She endured the scrutiny, though he reminded her once more of a cat singling out prey. She sat very still, waiting for him to spring, knowing she was caught even before he did so.

All she could do was wait and see what manner the attack took.

“No,” he finally said, “I can’t stop Renzo from looking for you. But even he cannot separate a man and his wife.”