Читать книгу Untamed Italian, Blackmailed Innocent - JACQUELINE BAIRD, Jacqueline Baird - Страница 7

ZAC DELUCCA walked forward and briefly shook the hand Nigel Paxton held out to him. ‘The pleasure is mine,’ he said suavely, and, turning, shifted his attention to the stunning woman.

He studied her intently for a long moment. Her gaze was fixed on Paxton and never wavered. She did not even glance at Zac, and he was intrigued. Could this gorgeous woman actually be Paxton’s lover? Or maybe, by the sound of the conversation he had overheard, a discarded lover? Both scenarios he found very hard to believe. Firstly, she was too young for Paxton, and secondly, any man who had such a female in his bed would be a fool to let her go. With a face and figure like hers she could take her pick of the male population and probably did, he concluded as he noted the banked-down fire in her ice-blue eyes that to a man with his expert knowledge of women denoted a passionate nature.

‘Sorry to intrude. I was not aware you had company,’ he continued, turning his attention back to the accountant—the possible thief, he reminded himself. ‘You must introduce me to your charming friend, Paxton,’ he commanded, and waited, his dark eyes once again roaming over the woman’s lovely face and exquisite body.

Sally barely registered the stranger’s smooth tones as her dad made the introduction.

‘Oh, she is not my friend,’ her father chuckled, and beamed down at her. He had got that right, she thought cynically. ‘This is my daughter, Sally.’

She turned slightly and looked up, and up again, at a positive giant of a man—with black hair and black eyes, and no doubt a black heart, if his unashamed masculine scrutiny of her body was anything to go by.

‘Sally…May I call you Sally?’ he asked politely, then went on, ‘You are a beautiful young woman. Your father must be a very proud man.’

Why did she get the feeling there was an underlying cynicism in his tone? Not that she cared. Overblown words of flattery from a man with a sexually explicit invitation in the dark eyes that met hers did not impress her, and she refused to be intimidated. Her mother was her only concern, and she shrugged off the unfamiliar tremor that slid down her spine.

Straightening her slender shoulders, she held out her hand politely, and it was immediately engulfed in his much larger one. ‘Nice to meet you,’ she said flatly, and looked back at her father again. At the same time she attempted to slip her hand from Delucca’s, but outrageously his thumb slowly stroked the length of her palm and her fingers before setting her free.

How predictable—another one like her dad, she thought bitterly.

Zac Delucca did not miss the flash of distaste in her brilliant blue eyes as he finally let go of her hand. Maybe caressing her palm had been a little juvenile, but he had been unable to resist the temptation to test the softness of her skin against his. For a moment he imagined the brush of every inch of her skin against his naked body, and had to fight to control the surge of arousal the thought induced.

He had definitely been too long without a woman, but now he knew it was not Lisa in Milan or any other woman he wanted. It was this woman he wanted, and he resolved to have her. He had no doubt he would succeed—he always did. It was simply a matter of negotiating the when and where, sooner rather than later, if his neglected libido had any say in the matter.

Her voice was low, and ever so slightly husky. Her brilliant blue eyes had been cool as she glanced up at him and swiftly back to her father. Never had a woman so instantly dismissed him. Usually they hung on to his hand…Yet this beauty had done it twice. Her indifference rankled, and he was all the more determined to make her aware of him…

He watched as her father introduced her to Raffe. She gave him an equally brief smile and turned back to her father yet again. But as she continued speaking, Zac sensed it was not so much that she was ignoring him, but that she was disappointed in her father for some reason. He noted the dark flush that stained the older man’s face and he felt the tension between them.

Thinking fast, Sally spoke. ‘I hope you don’t mind, Mr Delucca,’ she said without actually looking at the man, her hard blue eyes fixed on the reprobate that was her father. ‘I called round to persuade my father to take me out to lunch. I am always telling him he works far too many hours. Isn’t that right, Dad?’ she prompted sweetly.

She did not want to reveal her mother’s poor health to two virtual strangers, but she did need to get her dad by himself and extract a promise from him to go with her—if not tonight, then in the morning—to visit his wife. He was not fobbing her off again.

‘Yes, but you are a little late. I had a sandwich earlier, as I am rather busy, and as you can see, Mr Delucca, the new owner of the company, has just arrived. I can’t possibly take you to lunch today. Why don’t you run along and I will ring you this evening?’

Next he would be patting her on the head, like the silly girl he thought she was, Sally thought angrily. She knew perfectly well he would not call her tonight. She knew every lying tone of his voice. But she also realised there was not much she could do about it. Not with two strange men standing listening to the exchange.

She stared at her father for a moment. He was smiling his usual charming smile, and yet there was something…She could hear the underlying strain in his voice. Whether it was because she had turned up or because of his new boss’s presence she wasn’t sure, but before she could decide she felt the brief brush of long male fingers on her forearm—apparently to get her attention. Involuntarily she tensed at the touch, and glanced up in surprise, her blue eyes clashing with black.

‘Your father is right, Sally. He is going to be occupied for the rest of the day with Raffe, my accountant.’

For some inexplicable reason, Sally was paralysed by the dark eyes holding hers. They were not actually black, more a deep dark brown, with the faintest tinge of gold, and framed by the longest, thickest, sootiest eyelashes she had ever seen on a man.

What on earth was she doing? She tried to look away. Her mother was her only concern. But somehow her gaze lingered for a moment on his striking face. He wasn’t handsome, she decided. At some time his nose had been broken, and had healed, leaving a slight bump, and above one arched black eyebrow there was an inch-long scar.

‘But I could not possibly allow a young lady to lunch alone.’

Still studying his face, she was only half registering his words. Then with a jolt she swiftly lowered her gaze as she suddenly had a good idea where his statement was going. She glanced back up to see Delucca turn his attention to her dad.

‘If you have no objection, Paxton, I will take your daughter to lunch. Raffe is more than capable of explaining the business we need to discuss, and I will see you later.’

Sally was too stunned by the turn of events to object immediately. Instead she glanced from one man to the other, and caught the hardest look pass between them, and then her father responded—at his jovial best.

‘That is extremely kind of you, Mr Delucca. Problem solved. Sally, darling, Mr Delucca will take you to lunch—isn’t that good of him?’

Sally looked from her dad up to the man towering over her, his dark eyes gleaming with sardonic amusement and something more she did not want to recognise. She shivered and did not bother to answer her dad. Good…? There was nothing good about this man. Of that she was sure…

Ten minutes later Sally was sitting in the back of a limousine, Zac Delucca seated beside her, on her way to a lunch she did not really want.

‘Comfortable, Sally?’

‘Fine,’ she responded automatically. How the hell had this happened? she asked herself for the umpteenth time.

‘The restaurant is about twenty minutes away—a favourite of mine when I am in London.’

‘Fine,’ she murmured, rerunning in her head the conversation in the office.

When she had finally found her voice she had tried to get out of going to lunch with the excuse that she wasn’t that hungry and she was sure Mr Delucca was far too busy to waste time with her.

Delucca had silkily stated that time was never wasted with a beautiful woman. She had noted the devilish humour in his dark eyes, and just known he was laughing at her. He was the kind of man who always won, and she had wanted to slap him.

He’d known that as well, she was sure.

Then there was her dad, who for some reason had seemed very keen for her to go out with the man. In fact, he had practically insisted. With the two of them ganging up on her, she’d never had a chance.

Still, how bad could it be? she asked herself. A quick meal and then she could leave Delucca at the restaurant and grab a cab home. She gazed out of the car window and idly wondered how they made the tinted glass that looked black from the outside of the car, but from the inside was clear, allowing her to see everything outside.

She felt the brush of a hard masculine thigh against her own and moved slightly. If Delucca was coming on to her he was wasting his time. She wasn’t interested. She ignored the sudden warmth in her thigh…

Men did not interest her. Men in general did not figure large in her life, and with her father as an example it was hardly surprising. What with caring and worrying about her mother’s health for most of her adult life—because her father certainly did not—she had never had the time for a boyfriend since she’d left school, even if she had wanted one. If her mother’s doctor was right, she might soon have all the time in the world, and the knowledge made her want to weep. With sightless eyes she stared out of the window, a deep sigh escaping her.

Zac Delucca, for the first time in years, was stumped by a woman. The woman at his side was barely aware of his existence. Her uninterested responses to any attempt at conversation were monosyllabic, and it irritated the hell out of him.

He had even resorted to allowing his thigh to brush against hers, and while it had done dangerous things to his libido she had dismissed the contact without a glance. He was definitely losing his touch, he thought, a wry grin twisting his firm lips.

‘That was a big sigh. Is my company so boring?’ He prompted sardonically.

The deep, dark tone of his voice reminded Sally where she was, and she turned her head to look at him. ‘Not at all, Mr Delucca,’ she replied coolly, and watched as he squared his impressively broad shoulders and casually stretched a long arm across the back of the seat behind her. Not touching, but somehow enclosing her. She drew in a shaky breath, not liking the unfamiliar weak sensation that he somehow aroused in her.

‘Then please call me Zac,’ he invited smoothly. Her face was a perfect social mask, but he had sensed her unease when he had moved closer. She was not as unaware of him as she appeared, and at last he had got her attention. ‘I want there to be no formality between us, Sally,’ he told her huskily.

In fact, he wanted nothing at all between them—not a stitch of clothing, just flesh on flesh. He had never felt so fiercely attracted to a woman in his life, and he watched her reaction as, unable to resist touching her, he allowed his long fingers to slide down and caress her shoulder.

She jumped like a scalded cat and shot back. ‘I don’t want anything at all between us.’

He could not prevent a chuckle as she verbalised his thought exactly, but he was pretty sure she was not thinking along the same lines as him.

‘I’m glad you find me amusing,’ she snapped, looking anything but amused. ‘And take your hand off me.’ She leant forward, shrugging her shoulder to dislodge his hand.

Zac let her, and settled back in the seat. Maybe he had made a mistake. Did he have the time to pursue her, and did he really want to? She was just another typical high-maintenance little rich girl, with her nose put out of joint because the doting father who kept her in comfort had refused to jump to her bidding.

The irony did not escape him. If Raffe’s suspicions were correct, he had already paid for Sally Paxton’s lifestyle without any of the benefits of keeping a beautiful woman.

He studied her for a long moment. She was incredibly lovely. Maybe he could make time. Her hands were folded in her lap, the soft swell of her breasts was just visible above the square-cut neckline of her dress, and her face was hauntingly beautiful but somehow sad. The end of an affair maybe…Easier for him if she was unattached…

‘Not so amusing. More intriguing,’ Zac finally responded, suddenly needing to know. ‘Tell me—do you have a man in your life?’

Sally had heard the question countless times before. While she did not bother with men, quite a few bothered her, and she had developed a surefire way to cool their interest.

‘No. Do you have a wife?’ she retorted, glancing at him. He was still too close for her liking, his hard bicep touching her shoulder. Perhaps it wasn’t deliberate—he was a big man, with an even bigger ego to match, she surmised, and put her plan into action. ‘Because I never go out with married men.’

‘No wife.’ He smiled a hunter’s smile, Sally thought. ‘Nor do I want one,’ he confirmed. Lifting one long finger, he swept a stray tendril of her hair around her ear and stroked down her cheek to tip her chin towards him. ‘And no significant woman at the moment. So there isn’t anything to prevent us getting together. I am a very generous lover, in bed and out. Trust me—I promise you will not be disappointed.’

The sheer arrogance of the man astounded Sally. She had only met him half an hour ago. Yet already he had told her he wasn’t into commitment but was looking for an affair. Bottom line, she amended, he was looking for sex. Nothing more. Just like her dad.

She fought her instinctive reflex to knock his finger from her chin, and instead lifted wide blue eyes to his. They were dark and gleaming with masculine confidence. Well, not for long, she determined.

‘Oh, I don’t know, Zac,’ she said huskily, and finally deliberately used his name. ‘I am almost twenty-six, and I do want a husband—just not someone else’s.’ His finger fell from her chin. She caught the flicker of wariness in his dark eyes and wasn’t surprised. Typical male reaction…

She gave him a wry smile. ‘I too think it is good to be honest about one’s intentions, as you so obviously are, Zac.’ Sally doubted he noticed the underlying sarcasm in her tone. ‘Therefore I feel I should do the same. Ideally, I would like to have three children, while I am young enough to enjoy them, so basically I do not have time to waste on an affair with you, even if I wanted to.’

The expression on his face was comical. From confident, ardent suitor to wary and outraged male in less than sixty seconds.

‘I can assure you no woman has ever found an affair with me a waste of time,’ he declared arrogantly, and she almost laughed out loud.

Unable to help herself, she expanded on the theme.

‘If you say so.’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Then again, you must be—what? Thirty-six, seven…’

‘Thirty-five,’ he snapped.

He didn’t like that, and Sally stifled a grin. ‘Still, you’re not getting any younger either. Maybe you will change your mind about marriage. You will certainly make someone a wonderful husband,’ she complimented him, and was actually beginning to enjoy herself. He moved slightly, his arm no longer touching her shoulder, and for the first time since meeting him she actually gave him her whole attention.

She turned her back half against the window in order to face him, and deliberately let her big blue eyes roam slowly over him. His hair was silky black, with a tendency to curl, obviously controlled by superb styling. His eyes were heavy lidded, and at the moment narrowed, hiding his expression. His features were big: large nose, a wide mouth with perfectly chiselled lips, the bottom one slightly fuller, and a square jaw with a delightful indentation in his chin.

Actually, he was very attractive, Sally acknowledged. His shoulders were wide, his chest broad and his muscled thighs were stretching the fabric of his trousers, she noted as he moved further away and crossed the leg nearest to her over his other knee.

A student of body language would probably say that was a sign of rejection…Her ploy had worked, Sally thought. But to make sure, she added, ‘You do have all the attributes to make a good husband—you’re a fine figure of a man, fit and filthy rich.’

Zac had listened with growing disquiet as she spoke. The woman was after a husband—a rich husband. She was the same as all the rest of her species. Her saving grace, if one could call it that, was that at least she had put all her cards on the table up front.

Getting into anything with her would be a huge mistake, his inbuilt sense of survival screamed at him. But, when she had barely looked at him since they met, feeling her gorgeous blue eyes examining every inch of him had been the most erotic experience he had known in ages. Out of necessity he had crossed one leg over the other knee, to hide the wayward reaction of his body.

Thank the Lord the car was slowing down. In a minute they would be at the restaurant. A swift meal and a polite goodbye, and the fact he had trouble keeping his hands off this woman he would put down to his lengthy celibacy. His common sense was telling him this lady was dangerous to his peace of mind. Time to walk away.

He glanced at Sally. She was sitting back in the seat again, but her eyes were no longer cold. They were sparkling. He caught the glint of feline satisfaction in the blue depths, and her soft mouth quirked at the corners in a barely concealed grin.

The little devil! Had she been teasing him? Deliberately trying to put him off? He wasn’t sure, and that was another first for him. Usually he could read a woman like a book, but this one had him tied in knots.

Warning bells rang loud and clear in his head, but he ignored them. He needed to delve a little deeper to discover what really made her tick. He had sensed her sadness and disappointment earlier—at her father or men in general he wasn’t sure. She had done her best to ignore him, but then she had examined him with blatant female thoroughness and he knew she liked what she saw.

He was not a fool. He had felt her reaction the moment he had put a finger on her arm in the office, and again when he touched her cheek. She was not immune to him. But was she really looking for a wealthy husband?

Did he care? He had escaped that trap all his life, and he was smart enough to continue to do so. But he enjoyed a challenge, and Sally Paxton was definitely a challenge—one that he was determined to pursue and conquer.

She was an adult woman, not some shy young virgin, and he did not have to deprive his body of the pleasure of hers simply because she was looking for a husband, he concluded—to his own satisfaction.