Читать книгу The Cost of her Innocence - JACQUELINE BAIRD, Jacqueline Baird - Страница 7

DANTE CANNAVARO WAS not in a good mood. When he had called at Ellen’s apartment earlier, contemplating their reunion after a month apart, he had casually mentioned his brother’s barbecue and suggested they call in. Ellen had yet to meet Tony, and Dante was considering asking him to be his best man at their wedding. Ellen had hated both ideas. Barbecues were ‘not her style,’ and she was adamant that one of Dante’s lawyer friends or a business associate would be much more appropriate as best man.

Finally she had agreed to attend—but only if they went immediately, so that they would still have time to have dinner at their favourite restaurant. This was news to Dante, who hadn’t even known they had a favourite restaurant!

Ellen had carried on in the same vein for the hour it had taken to get here, and Dante had switched off and let her chatter. But when he had glanced across to where Mike had indicated his brother and seen the woman with him he’d immediately switched on again.

Now Dante studied the tall, striking redhead at Tony’s side. There was something about her that niggled at him. He had caught the name Beth, but he could not remember having met anyone called Beth before. Yet there was definitely something familiar about her. Then, as the sun’s rays caught her hair, turning it to flame, it came to him—she was the stunning woman he had noticed in the street a few days ago.

Dante barely heard the conversation that continued. His dark gaze roamed over her instead. He noticed the swell of her breasts beneath the lemon silk shirt she wore tucked into white jeans that moulded her slim hips and long legs, before his gaze slid back to trace the creamy skin over the high cheekbones of her face, framed by the red hair that was styled to fall sleekly to her shoulders. Finally his look rested on her big green eyes. He was intrigued as to who she was, and what she was to Tony.

‘Beth—my brother Dante.’

Tony made the introduction and Beth had no excuse but to finally look at Cannavaro.

Dante offered his hand. ‘It is a pleasure to meet you, Beth.’ Her eyes were cold, he noted, and the fingers that briefly touched his and swiftly withdrew were smooth and cool. But the heated sensation he felt at her merest touch surprised him—and her, it would seem. He recognised the flash of awareness in her green eyes though she fought to disguise it. Her lashes flickered down and her full lips tightened. He sensed her antagonism. She had not wanted to shake his hand. Only social niceties had demanded the slight contact.

Dante wasn’t a conceited man, but her reaction wasn’t the one he usually got from females. This woman had never met him but she was determined not to like him, and he had to wonder why.

‘Nice to meet you,’ Beth said, but she refused to use his name. Her fingers stung from the brief contact with his and she took a step back, shocked that he could affect her so intensely. His powerful physical presence provoked an instant reaction—a stomach-churning anger that she was barely able to control.

‘I’m considering following you, Dante.’ Tony reached his arm around Beth again, holding her close. ‘And talking Beth into marrying me. What do you think?’ he asked outrageously.

Beth’s startled gaze flew to Tony. What on earth was he playing at?

‘Beth is a lovely girl, I’m sure,’ Dante offered with a cynical smile.

He had met a lot of women in his time, and could see the beautiful Beth was probably older than Tony—maybe not so much in years, but, by the guarded look about her, certainly in experience. She could be more interested in Tony’s money than she was in the man. His brother worked in the merchant bank his father, Harry, owned and stood to inherit a fortune. The fact that he chose to share an apartment with Mike in suburbia, rather than a luxury apartment he could easily afford in the city centre, didn’t mean Beth did not know exactly who Tony was—an extremely good catch for any woman.

Beth’s blood ran cold as Dante’s hard dark eyes met hers. Now she recognised the cynicism in his smile immediately—but years ago she had not, and it had been her downfall. Her anger and resentment grew at the memory as he continued speaking.

‘But you have only just turned twenty-three, Tony. Isn’t that a bit young to be contemplating matrimony?’ Dante queried. He had seen the anger in Beth’s eyes and his conviction that she was only after Tony’s money deepened. This woman was smart enough to know that as the older brother he was a possible threat to her plan. ‘Marriage is an expensive business—especially for a young man just starting his career. I’m sure Beth would agree.’

His mocking tone did nothing to quell the bitterness bubbling inside Beth. No wonder Tony wanted to get one over on the arrogant swine. Rashly, she decided to help him. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Money isn’t everything.’ She shot Cannavaro a defiant glance before looking adoringly up at Tony. ‘Is it, darling?’

‘You’ve got that spot-on,’ Tony offered, his eyes dancing with amusement as he planted a brief kiss on her lips. ‘Isn’t she incredible, bro?’ he prompted.

‘Yes,’ Dante agreed curtly, surprised by the swift flare of irritation he felt at seeing them kiss. His dark gaze flicked to Beth and he caught the gleam in her green eyes. It wasn’t passion for Tony, he recognised, but a direct challenge aimed at him.

There was nothing Dante liked better than a challenge, and there was something about the striking redhead that had aroused his suspicions the minute he had met her. Now he was in danger of arousing another part of him, and worryingly it had nothing to do with his fiancée. He hadn’t reacted to a woman so swiftly in a long time. He enjoyed sex, but was never blinded by it, and he chose his partners carefully—as he had Ellen. He was always in total control, as he was in all aspects of his life. Yet every instinct he possessed was telling him his surprising reaction to Beth was not just sexual attraction. It was as though he knew her—but how?

He needed time to think, and changed the subject. ‘What about a drink, Tony? This is supposed to be a party. I’ll have a soft drink as I’m driving.’ And, concentrating on his fiancée, he added, ‘A vodka and tonic all right for you, Ellen?’

‘I’ll get them, Tony,’ Beth offered, her heart pounding in panic as she realised that playing along with Tony’s game to irritate his brother had been the height of stupidity. She had let her anger overcome her caution and drawn attention to herself—a big mistake. ‘You stay with your guests. You must have a lot to talk about with a family wedding coming up.’

Tony kissed her cheek and let her go. ‘Thanks, you’re a gem. And bring me a beer as well, hmm?’

Beth agreed, and with a huge sense of relief walked across to get a can of beer, then sprinted up the stairs of the boys’ apartment and into the kitchen.

She recognised a couple of their friends from the bank, and responding to their chatter helped her to regain her shattered nerves as she mixed the drinks and placed them on a tray. Caution and confidence, she reminded herself. But even so she was in no hurry to go back down to the party.

Just then Mike appeared. ‘I need more food! These people eat like horses,’ he declared, and she saw a lifeline.

‘You’re looking stressed, Mike.’ And, handing him the tray, she suggested, ‘Why don’t you add a drink for yourself and take these down to Tony, relax and enjoy the party? I’ll take care of the barbecue—no problem.’

‘You are an angel.’ He grinned and agreed.

Beth doubted Cannavaro and Ellen would deign to eat from the barbecue. Fine dining was more their thing, and she could hopefully avoid them for the rest of the evening.

Tony had watched Beth depart with an appreciative eye, then turned to catch Dante doing the same. ‘So, when are you getting married, bro?’ he asked mischievously. ‘At your age you don’t want to hang around.’

Before Dante could reply Ellen laughed and launched into a long explanation as to how difficult it was to get the right church at the right time and find the right venue for the reception. He saw Tony’s eyes glaze over with drink or boredom—more likely the latter—and he knew the feeling.

Dante had presumed that once they were engaged all he’d have to do was pay up and turn up on the wedding day. The endless lists and arrangements Ellen expected him to be interested in and discuss had come as an unpleasant shock to him.

Eventually Ellen ended with a date in September.

‘That’s fine,’ Tony said. ‘Don’t forget to send me an invite. I’ll bring Beth. Hopefully it will encourage her down the same path.’

‘Is that wise? The guests will be family and close friends, and though Beth seems nice how long have you known her?’ Dante demanded. Somehow the thought of the emerald-eyed beauty as a guest at his wedding was not one he wanted to contemplate.

‘Ever since we moved in, eighteen months ago. She’s a great girl and a fabulous cook. Her cakes are to die for. I don’t know what we’d do without her. Isn’t that right?’ Tony asked as Mike appeared with the drinks.

‘Yes, she is a diamond—especially to you, mate. And as we’re standing in her garden, and she prepared most of the food and has offered to take over the barbecue so I can enjoy myself, I’d say she is indispensable. And she certainly improves the view….’

Dante had wondered why Tony insisted on living out here, and now he knew. Tony was infatuated by the woman. With a few judicious questions Dante soon found out a lot more about Beth Lazenby. She was twenty-seven, and an accountant for a prestigious firm in the centre of London. She owned a cottage by the sea, and lived in the ground-floor apartment—too close to Tony for Dante’s comfort. He wasn’t sure why, but his gut feeling was telling him there was a lot more to Beth than met the eye.

He glanced across to the barbecue and saw her standing there, handing out plates of food to a group of men gathered around her, none of whom could take their eyes off her. Maybe that was the problem. She was tall, and so stunningly attractive few men would think to look past her surface beauty. She was an unlikely accountant. With her height and looks she could have been a model—she was slender enough. But maybe her high, firm breasts were a little too much for a fashion model, he mused.

‘Dante, darling.’

Ellen’s voice stopped his musing.

‘I feel like dancing.’ Grasping his arm, she smiled up at him.

‘Not my kind of dancing, but I’ll give it a go.’

Ellen was the lovely, intelligent woman whom he had chosen to be his wife, Dante reminded himself, and it was time he stopped worrying about the redhead and concentrated on his fiancée. Ellen had not wanted to attend this barbecue, but she was making an effort for his sake. Dancing with her was the least he could do….

Julian, the last man standing by the barbecue, was talking about stockbroking, laughing as he described his latest gamble on the markets. Beth listened politely, her mind only partially on what he said. She seemed unable to stop her eyes from straying towards the people dancing on the patio, and the tallest man in particular. For a big man he was a smooth mover—though he wasn’t so much dancing as allowing his fiancée to flit adoringly around him. More fool her, Beth thought. In her experience most men were a waste of time. All she wanted to do was call it a night, get into her apartment and check on Binkie. But there was no way she was going to walk through the crowd of gyrating bodies.

Luckily the music stopped and Mike came strolling over, his face flushed and smiling, obviously having enjoyed himself. ‘Sorry, Beth. I didn’t mean to leave you so long, but with it still being so light I didn’t realise the time. Tony has just gone to change the music. You go and enjoy yourself, and I’ll pack up here.’

For Beth it already felt like the longest night of her life, and she leapt at the chance to escape. People were moving to replenish their drinks, and her route was almost clear to her back door.

She was nearly there when the music started again—this time slow and moody—and suddenly her way was blocked as Cannavaro stepped in front of her, crowding her. She wanted to step back, but her pride would not let her.

‘May I have this dance? Tony is partnering Ellen, and it will give us a chance to get to know each other. We might all be family one day.’

Beth tensed and looked up at him—which was an unusual event in itself for her. She noticed that his eyes were not black. They were the colour of molasses—dark and golden. She found herself thinking that once she fell into them she would be stuck for ever. Disturbed by the fanciful thought, she caught the gleam of mockery in those same eyes and wanted to refuse his request outright. But she did not dare. He had not recognised her, she was sure, but she had aroused his suspicion by being less than courteous when they had been introduced. She did not want to compound her mistake by showing her dislike again.

She took a deep breath. ‘That’s not likely to happen. Tony was just teasing,’ she managed to say evenly. ‘But, yes, if you insist, I will dance with you.’

‘Oh, I insist, Beth.’ He drawled her name softly and his arm slid around her waist.

He looked at her, his other hand taking hers, and she was not prepared for the tingling sensation that crept over her skin and made her shiver as he held her close to his long body.

A reaction to the cooling night air, she told herself, but somehow her body, with a will of its own, was moving with him, automatically following his movements.

‘You are a very lovely lady, Beth. What man wouldn’t insist?’ he added in that deep, barely accented silken voice she remembered so well and so bitterly.

She forgot her good intentions. ‘Are you trying to flirt with me, Mr Cannavaro?’ she demanded. ‘And you an engaged man,’ she prompted, giving him a derisory smile while trying to control her inexplicably racing pulse.

A quizzical expression flickered across his face for a moment, and his incredible eyes seemed to bore into hers as his hand stroked up her spine to hold her closer still. To her shame she felt a fullness in her breasts when they came in contact with his broad chest.

‘No, Beth. I was stating the truth. But if I was flirting with you I would not have to try very hard,’ Dante opined, fully appreciating the feminine sway of her shapely body against his own, testing his control to the limit. ‘I felt you tremble when I took you in my arms, and sensed it in the softening of your body against mine. There is an instant sexual attraction between us—unfortunate, but true. Under the circumstances it is obviously not to be acted upon. But I also sense something more. You seem afraid of me—even actively to dislike me—and I have to wonder why. Are you sure we have not met before?’

God, he analysed everything, and talked like a lawyer even as they moved to the music. His muscular thighs brushed against hers, raising her temperature, and it took all her nerve to hold his dark gaze.

‘I shivered because it is getting cooler now,’ she lied. ‘And, no, we have never met before. I didn’t even know Tony had a brother. He never mentioned you until you turned up here in the garden.’

Dante stilled and let Beth take a step back, putting space between them. His heavy-lidded eyes were shrewd and penetrating, and swept over her flushed defiant face before moving lower.

‘Interesting if true!’ He raised a sardonic eyebrow, noting the thrust of her nipples against her shirt.

The lovely Beth was definitely lying about one part of that statement. He had met enough females in his time, and was experienced enough to recognise when a lustful attraction was mutual. But was she lying about not knowing Tony had a brother until tonight? She had not said half-brother, and if she was telling the truth surely she would naturally assume his name was Hetherington, the same as Tony’s? And yet she had called him Mr Cannavaro—even though his name had not been mentioned when the introductions had been made. He doubted Tony, who was not into formality of any kind, would have called him anything but Dante or bro in the couple of minutes before they had been introduced. So how could she know his surname unless she had met him before, or at least heard of him?

The mystery of Beth Lazenby deepened. His legal instincts told him she was hiding something—but what? And in that moment Dante decided to make it his business to discover everything about her. Not for himself, but to protect his brother, of course.

A wave of heat swept through Beth at his intense scrutiny and it took every scrap of willpower she possessed to control her traitorous body. But at least she was saved from having to respond as Tony and Ellen appeared.

‘One fiancée returned to you, bro, worn out from dancing with me—or it could be the vodka I gave her. She wants to go home.’ Tony grinned, swaying on his feet, and Beth grabbed his arm to steady him. He had definitely had too much to drink.

‘Thanks a bunch, Tony,’ Dante said dryly, his expression grim as he wrapped his arm around a slightly glassy-eyed Ellen. And with a goodnight and a curt nod to Beth, much to her relief he left.

Beth took the key from her back pocket and, ignoring Tony’s drunken request to dance, slipped into her apartment and locked the door behind her. She fell back against it, breathing deeply, fighting to regain her composure.

Binkie appeared and she picked him up in her arms and carried him through into the living room. Her knees weak, with a sigh she sank down onto the sofa, cuddling the cat on her lap, her mind in turmoil as the significance of Cannavaro being Tony’s brother sank in.

Everyone had bad days, she reminded herself, but today hers had gone from good straight to diabolical. She glanced around the cosy room that was her sanctuary, her gaze resting on the two photographs in identical silver frames on the mantelpiece. One was of the parents she had adored, and the other of Helen, her dearest friend. All three were dead now, and moisture glazed her eyes.

Clive Hampton, Helen’s lawyer, whom Beth now considered a friend and mentor, was the closest thing she had to family. He had been instrumental in getting her a job in the offices of a local accountancy firm, where she had got the opportunity to train in-house as an accountant. After taking the requisite exams over two years she had eventually become qualified.

She spoke to Clive frequently on the telephone, and often visited him at his home in Richmond. She was meeting him tomorrow for Sunday lunch, and had almost forgotten in the trauma of the evening. He was over sixty now, and thinking of retiring soon, and though she talked to him about most things, telling him how she felt about Cannavaro was not one of them. It was much too personal. She had never even told Helen how badly the man had affected her in court, only that he was clever and that her lawyer, Miss Sims, had been useless against him. No, this latest development she had to take care of herself.

Her time in prison had taught her how to build a protective shell around her emotions and present a blank face in front of warders and prisoners alike. Living in a confined environment and sharing communal showers had come as a shock, but she had quickly realised that women came in all shapes and sizes and soon thought nothing of stripping off in front of anyone. She told herself she was no better or worse than anyone else, but all her life she had always felt the odd one out and that hadn’t changed. And with her new identity she was even more wary of making friends.

Tony and Mike were the only friends she had in London, though she had quite a few in Faith Cove.

Wearily she let her head fall back on the sofa and closed her eyes. She had never felt as alone as she did now. Not since that fatal day eight years ago when she had stood in the dock, trembling with fear. And the same hateful arrogant man was responsible…. In her head she wished she had the nerve to tell Dante Cannavaro exactly what she thought of him, but in reality she knew she could not.

He was a dangerously clever man: she trembled if he so much as touched her and he already thought they had met before. She was not going to take the chance of him remembering where … Not that it would matter if he did, but she did not need the aggravation in her life. What she needed to do was make sure she never met him again, and if that meant moving she would. Tony had said he hadn’t seen his brother since last year, so with luck she’d have some time to decide.

Binkie stirred and stretched on her lap. Sighing, Beth got to her feet. ‘Come on, Binkie. I can see you want feeding, and then I am going to bed.’

But once she was in bed disturbing thoughts of Dante Cannavaro filled her mind. The first time she had seen him across the courtroom she had felt an instant connection with him. Her stomach had churned and her heart had leapt and naively she had thought he was her savior. But he had betrayed her. Again tonight he’d ignited those same sensations in her, but she told herself that this time it was anger and hatred for the man.

Yet, as she tossed and turned, hot and restless beneath the coverlet, remembering the strength of his arms holding her as they danced, the heat of his long body moving her to the music, she had the growing suspicion that he could be right. Never in her life had she responded to any man the way she did to Cannavaro. She had met plenty of men in the last few years, and quite a lot had asked her for a date, but she could count on one hand the rare occasions she had accepted.

For all the harm Cannavaro had done to her, could her intense awareness of him, the rush of sensations he aroused in her, be purely sexual, as he said, and not just hatred as she believed? She saw in her mind’s eye his broodingly handsome face, the compelling dark eyes, and a shiver quivered through her body. How could she know for sure?

The first boy she had kissed had been the slimy liar Timothy Bewick, and when Cannavaro had questioned her at the trial he had implied their kiss had been a lot more. She hadn’t recognised the femme fatale he had made her out to be, but the jury had believed him.

By the time Beth had got out of prison she’d been determined to allow no man to get close to her. Her friend Helen had still been in prison, serving a twenty-year sentence for killing her bully of an ex-husband. Helen had spent years living with his violent rages, and it had only been when she had seen his anger directed at their daughter, Vicky, that Helen had found the courage to divorce him. Five years later Vicky had died while staying at her father’s holiday villa in Spain. According to her father, Vicky had slipped and cracked her head open. The Spanish authorities had believed him. But Helen had known he’d finally gone too far and she’d snapped, deliberately running him down with her Land Rover outside his London home.

Helen had told Beth her story, and told her to look around at the rest of the women they’d shared the prison with. Most of the women had been there because of a man. A man who’d told them what to do, whether they were thieves, prostitutes, drug mules or anything else. And they’d done it because they’d been deluded enough to believe the man loved them. In Helen’s case she had let grief and hatred of her ex take over, and in destroying his life had destroyed her own too. Helen had warned her never to let any man take over her life.

Helen’s words of wisdom still held true, and they strengthened Beth’s resolve to put as much distance between herself and Dante Cannavaro as she possibly could.

In a moment of insight Beth realised that her cottage in the village of Faith Cove was the only place she felt truly herself.

When Beth finally fell into a restless sleep the nightmare she had not suffered from for a long time returned with a vengeance—only the ending wasn’t the same. She was in the dock, with a big handsome man in black tormenting her, twisting every word she said. Then he was smiling, his deep voice and dark eyes drawing her in. And then the nightmare turned into an erotic dream of strong arms holding her, firm, sensuous lips kissing her, hands caressing her, thrilling her.

She cried out and woke up, hot and moist between her thighs and with her heart pounding like a drum.

The next day Beth drove to Richmond for Sunday lunch with Clive, and discussed with him what she had been thinking of doing since the last time she had stayed at the cottage. With Clive’s full approval Beth made the decision to leave London.

She was going to move to Faith Cove and refurbish the cottage Helen had gifted to her in her will. Ironically, Helen’s brute of a husband, never thinking his wife would have the nerve to divorce him, had put the cottage in Helen’s name to avoid tax when he had bought the house fifteen years earlier. When she had divorced him there had been nothing he could do about her keeping it.

Now Beth had plans for the cottage. Although ‘cottage’ was actually a misnomer, as the place was really a large house with six bedrooms, often rented out to families. First she would convert the roof space of the multi-car garage at the rear of the property into a three-roomed apartment. That way she could carry on renting out the house as a holiday let while living permanently either in the apartment or the house when it was vacant. Beth was sure she could make a comfortable living out of it, and she could continue as an accountant for private clients. Maybe she could even convert part of the garage into a surfers’ shop later, which would give her even more independence and ensure she could stay away from the man who haunted her dreams.

Dante Cannavaro, with a face like thunder, walked into his office on Monday morning, sat down at his desk and contacted the security firm he used when a delicate investigation was needed for a client.

Minutes later he lounged back in his black leather chair, his mind not on work but fixated on a tall redhead. He had put the wheels in motion to find out exactly who Beth Lazenby was, and if there was anything suspicious about her he would deal with her appropriately.

Miss Lazenby had already messed up his weekend and a hell of a lot more—including his plans for the future. He had taken Ellen back to her apartment on Saturday night, but had not joined her in bed because she had obviously drunk too much. Ellen had taken offence, blaming Dante for taking her to Tony’s party in the first place, and not taking her out to dinner. She had accused Dante of being arrogant and uncaring and of eyeing up another woman in her presence—namely Beth. She had claimed that he did not love her and had used a lot of words he had never thought she knew. The argument had culminated in Ellen calling the wedding off and throwing her ring at him as he had exited her apartment.

Dante had returned home in a foul mood, and had then spent a restless night with the image of a flame-haired woman plaguing his mind and his body. He’d had to remind himself that he had gotten over the urge to bed every desirable woman he met years ago. Yet he was still convinced that he knew Beth…. But how and from where he had no idea—and that was his problem.

Dante was as frustrated as hell, thanks to the redheaded witch, and he was damn sure he was not going to let her mess up Tony’s life. He glanced at his watch. He had a flight booked to New York at noon, and he expected to be there for a few weeks at least. He called his driver to pick him up and got to his feet, a ruthless gleam in his dark eyes.

When he returned to England, whatever the outcome of his enquiries, he would take great pleasure in dealing with Beth Lazenby personally. There was no way she was marrying Tony! Just the thought of being faced with Beth as his brother’s wife at every family gathering for the rest of his life was enough to make him shudder.

About to get in the car, he stopped and took his cell phone from his pocket and called Tony, realising his younger brother was impulsive enough to marry the woman without a second thought. Proof or not, it was his brotherly duty to warn Tony of his suspicions for his own good

‘Dante—to what do I owe this honor?’ Tony answered. ‘You rarely call me—and never during working hours.’

‘I want to let you know Ellen and I have split up. The wedding is cancelled and I am going to America for a while.’

‘Sorry, but I can’t say I’m surprised. In fact I told Beth I was amazed you’d got engaged in the first place. Why settle for one when you can take your pick, bro?’

Dante heard his chuckle and grimaced. ‘Yes, well, I’ve learned my lesson. But knowing how impulsive you can be, I thought I should warn you in case you make the same mistake.’

‘Warn me? That sounds ominous.’

‘Not ominous, just cautious … I’ve met Beth’s type before—a beautiful woman who probably knows your father owns a bank and is as interested in money as she is in you.’ Dante heard Tony laugh out loud and gritted his teeth. His brother never took anything seriously.

‘Ah, Dante, you really are too serious to be believed. As for Beth—I really couldn’t care less if she knows Dad owns a bank or not. You’ve met her. She is absolutely gorgeous! Do you honestly think I, or any other red-blooded male who was lucky enough to have Beth in his bed, would give a damn about the money? You must really be getting old, Dante, but don’t worry—I won’t do anything you wouldn’t do…. Ciao.’ And, still laughing, he clicked off.

Dante slipped his phone back into his pocket, feeling a complete idiot. Tony’s parting shot did worry him, and as he got into the car, his lips twisting wryly, he acknowledged that his brother’s assessment of the male of the species where Beth Lazenby was concerned was probably correct.