Читать книгу Ruthless Revenge: Delicious Demand - Кейт Хьюит - Страница 14

CHAPTER FIVE

LUCA STARED OUT at the setting sun turning the placid sea to gold and waited for Hannah to emerge from the bathroom. He tried to ignore the guilt that flickered through him, an unpleasant ripple of sensation. All right, so he’d tricked her. He shouldn’t have. But he hadn’t had any choice. Not that Hannah would be able to understand that, and he had no intention of explaining it to her. She didn’t seem to be quite so angry now, although she had shut the door rather firmly after flouncing in there to get changed.

Sighing restlessly, Luca turned away from the spectacular view. Every nerve ending tingled with anticipation at coming face to face with Andrew Tyson. In the three months since Tyson had announced he was selling his chain of family resorts, Luca hadn’t actually spoken to the man, not even on the telephone. Everything had been done through intermediaries, until this weekend. Until now, when he would finally look upon the man he’d hated for so long. He had to close this deal. And he’d do whatever it took to accomplish that.

‘Are you ready?’ he called to Hannah. They were due on the terrace for drinks in five minutes.

‘Yes.’ She unlocked and opened the door, emerging from the bathroom with her head held high even as uncertainty flickered in her eyes. Luca felt the breath rush from his lungs as he took in her appearance.

She wore a cocktail dress in plum-coloured silk; the pure, clean line of the material across her collarbone drew his attention to the elegance of her shoulders and neck as well as the slight, enticing curve of her breasts. The dress fitted perfectly to her tiny waist and then flared out around her thighs, ending at her knees. Her long, shapely legs were encased in sheer stockings and she’d worn her hair not in its usual neat ponytail, but in loose waves about her face. She looked clean and fresh and utterly alluring.

Luca finally found his voice. ‘You look...good.’

‘I meet with your approval?’ Hannah surmised tartly. ‘Well, I need to look the part, don’t I?’ She went over to her suitcase and riffled through her belongings. ‘I don’t feel at all guilty for letting you buy me a fortune in clothes, by the way.’

‘And so you shouldn’t.’ The rays of the setting sun caught the golden glints in her hair. Luca watched as she moved her hair over to one shoulder in order to put on her earrings. He found something almost unbearably erotic about watching her do this, her neck exposed, her slender hands fitting the earring into her ear. Her feet, he saw, were bare.

‘I suppose I’ll have to give them back when this charade is over?’ she asked as she reached for a pearl necklace.

‘No, not at all. You may keep them. They’re yours.’

She fiddled with the necklace, unable to do the clasp, and Luca walked towards her. ‘Here, let me.’ His fingers brushed her nape as he did the clasp and he felt a shudder go through her. Felt it go through himself. He couldn’t resist brushing his fingers against that tender, silky skin one more time before he stepped away.

‘Thank you,’ she murmured, not looking at him. He could see a rosy flush spreading across the creamy skin of her throat and face.

‘I should have bought you some appropriate jewellery.’

‘I think that would be going above and beyond,’ she answered lightly. ‘Pearls surely suffice.’

‘Yes...but I’d like to see you with diamonds. And sapphires. They’d look lovely against your pale skin.’

She dipped her head, hiding her expression. ‘Thank you.’

Luca watched her, wishing he had a reason to touch her again. ‘You don’t seem as angry as you were before.’

She glanced quickly at him before lowering her lashes. ‘I suppose I’m not. The truth is, I actually do like you, Mr—’

‘Surely now is the time to call me Luca.’

‘Luca. Sorry, old habits die hard, I suppose.’ She sighed and then straightened before moving away from him. ‘I’d better not slip up with that one, huh? Anyway.’ She reached for a wrap in matching plum-coloured lace; it looked as fragile and delicate as cobwebs. ‘I like working for you, even if I resent having to participate in this farce of an engagement. I don’t want you to lose face or your job, and I certainly don’t want to lose mine. So.’ She turned to him, a determined smile on her face. ‘Here we are.’

‘Here we are.’ He gazed at her and she gazed back, and the moment stretched and spun out while the sun continued to set and the room became dark with shadows.

Eventually, Luca didn’t know how long it took, he roused himself and reached for her hand. ‘We should go.’

‘All right.’

And with her fingers loosely threaded through his, he led her out of the room.

* * *

The terrace was bathed with the last rays of the setting sun as Luca led her through the open French windows and out onto the smooth paving stones. Torches flickered in the deepening twilight and couples milled around along with several staff members proffering trays of champagne and frothy-looking cocktails.

Smiling wryly to herself, Hannah took a flute of champagne with murmured thanks. She took a sip, enjoying the crisp bubbles bursting on her tongue, and gazed around at the assortment of people. There were two other couples, an urbane, blond man with a tall, bony-looking woman who Hannah vaguely recognised, and a middle-aged man with greying hair and a smiling wife who had squeezed herself into a dress of green satin. Their host, as far as she could tell, was nowhere to be seen.

Next to her Luca looked relaxed and faintly amused, but Hannah could feel the tension emanating from him. The fingers that clasped his flute of champagne were white-knuckled. She wondered again why he cared so much, and knew he would never tell her. And she would probably never work up the courage to ask.

‘Greetings!’ A jovial-looking man in his seventies appeared in the French windows, rubbing his hands and smiling in expectation. Hannah recognised Andrew Tyson from the photograph she’d seen on the Tyson Resorts website. Genial, running slightly to fat, with sandy silvery hair and deep-set brown eyes. In his youth he must have been quite handsome. He still possessed a vigorous charisma now.

‘I’m so pleased to have you here at last,’ he said as he strolled onto the terrace. ‘Luca, James, and Simon. You all know each other?’

The men exchanged quick glances and terse nods. ‘Excellent, excellent. And you all have drinks?’ His gaze moved over the crowd to rest on Luca.

‘Luca Moretti,’ he said as if accessing a mental Rolodex. ‘We’ve never actually met, but I have, of course, heard of your many accomplishments in the world of real estate.’

Hannah glanced at Luca and saw his expression was bland. ‘Thank you,’ he murmured.

‘And you are recently engaged?’ Andrew’s gaze sharpened, his smile turning almost sly. ‘For I’ve heard of your accomplishments elsewhere.’

Luca drew Hannah forward, as if displaying a trophy. She tried to smile even though she didn’t like being pushed forward as if for inspection. ‘Indeed. Please meet my wife-to-be, Hannah Stewart.’

‘Hannah.’ Tyson glanced at her appraisingly, and for one horrible second Hannah wondered if he would see through this whole ridiculous charade. And she realised she didn’t want to be exposed in such a way, and she didn’t want Luca to be exposed. He might have lied and tricked her terribly, but now that she was embroiled in this ploy she wanted it to succeed.

‘I’m very pleased to meet you,’ she told Tyson, and stuck out her hand for him to shake. He kissed it instead, his lips a little damp, and next to her Luca shifted restlessly.

‘Likewise, of course,’ Tyson said. ‘Now how did the two of you meet?’

‘Hannah is my PA,’ Luca intervened swiftly. ‘We met at work. I’m not one to advocate mixing business with pleasure, but in this instance it was impossible not to.’ He sent Hannah a lingering, loving glance that didn’t quite meet his eyes. Still she felt herself tingle. Her body was reacting to Luca’s, or maybe it was her mind reacting to his words. She knew them to be lies but they affected her anyway. It had been a long time since she’d been complimented by a man in any shape or form.

‘I can see why,’ Andrew said with a charmingly flirtatious smile for her. ‘How did he propose, Hannah? If you don’t mind me asking?’

Uh-oh. Her mind blanked for one awful second before she thought screw it and gave a light, teasing laugh. ‘Oh, it was so romantic, wasn’t it, Luca?’ she practically purred, sliding an arm around her intended’s waist. His body tensed under her hand and she enjoyed the feel of bunched muscle and taut abs before she continued with her story. ‘He surprised me with a trip to Paris for the weekend—on a private jet.’ She slid Luca what she hoped was an adoring look from under her lashes, enjoying the way his wary expression changed to one of cautious interest. He wanted to know where she was going with this. ‘And then one magical evening he took me to the top of the Eiffel Tower—he’d rented the whole thing out so it was completely private.’

‘I didn’t think you could rent the Eiffel Tower,’ Andrew said and Hannah continued without missing a beat.

‘Oh, you can, if you know the right people.’ She dared to wink. ‘Isn’t that right, Luca?’

He smiled blandly. ‘It is.’

‘And then what happened?’ The woman in green satin had asked. Everyone was listening to her story now, clearly intrigued by the over-the-top romanticism. Hannah knew she shouldn’t lay it on too thick; this was Luca Moretti, after all, and his reputation had clearly preceded him. And yet...if Luca was going to do a thing, she knew he’d do it properly, proposing marriage included.

‘And then he told me how madly in love he was with me,’ she finished blithely, ‘and he proposed. Down on one knee.’ She ended this utter fabrication with a happy sigh.

Andrew Tyson smiled faintly as he nodded towards her hand. ‘But you don’t have a ring, my dear.’

‘Oh, but I do,’ Hannah assured him. ‘Luca presented me with the most magnificent ring—a family heirloom, actually, hundreds of years old, although he changed the design for me. Sapphires and diamonds,’ she added, remembering what Luca had said earlier. ‘Gorgeous.’ She paused for a moment, picturing the fictitious ring, while everyone remained silent and spellbound.

‘What happened to it, then?’ asked the lanky woman rather sulkily.

‘Oh, it was too big. Silly Luca.’ She patted him playfully on the cheek and ignored the glimmer of warning in his mahogany eyes. ‘It’s at the jeweller’s being resized.’ She turned a twinkling smile onto Andrew Tyson. ‘But I assure you, the next time I see you, you’ll be suitably blinded.’ Now why had she said that? She didn’t want to see Andrew Tyson again. She certainly didn’t want to keep up this pretence. She’d just got carried away.

‘I’m sure,’ Andrew murmured. ‘Charmed, my dear, charmed.’ He turned to another guest and Hannah only just kept from sagging with relief, now that the adrenaline was leaving her in a cold rush. She could feel the watchful gazes of the other businessmen and their wives, no doubt wondering what a man like Luca Moretti saw in her.

‘You’re a natural,’ Luca murmured in her ear. ‘You should be on the stage.’

‘Shh,’ Hannah chided. They eased away from the group as they both gazed out at the sea, now swathed in darkness. The moon was just rising, sending a sheen of silver over the water. ‘Actually, I quite enjoyed myself.’

‘I could tell.’ He shot her an amused look, although Hannah could still feel how tense he was. ‘You almost had me believing I gave you an heirloom ring.’

‘Well, that’s the point, isn’t it?’ Hannah replied. Actually, she had enjoyed believing in the fantasy for a few moments. Wearing the dress, drinking the champagne, acting as if a gorgeous, powerful man adored her. It could get addictive, enjoying all this attention and luxury, and she needed to remember none of this was real.

‘If I’d known how much you’d get into the spirit of the thing,’ Luca remarked, ‘I would have let you in on the secret earlier.’

‘I think it’s more of a case of needs must,’ Hannah returned. She glanced back at the assembled group. ‘We should mingle, I suppose.’

‘I suppose.’

‘Tyson’s wife isn’t here? Or his children?’

The traces of amusement on Luca’s face disappeared. ‘They’re joining him tomorrow. Tomorrow’s dinner will be the big black-tie event.’

‘When will he announce who has won the bid?’

Luca shrugged. ‘Who knows? I think he’s toying with all of us.’

Hannah glanced at Andrew, who was working his way through the crowd, talking to everyone individually. ‘He seems a nice man.’

‘Appearances can be deceiving.’

She turned back to Luca, surprised by the hardness in his voice. ‘You don’t like him.’

‘I don’t know the man,’ Luca answered as he tossed back the rest of his drink. ‘But I don’t like being forced into play-acting. His demands are unreasonable and irrelevant.’

‘And yet you still chose to go after his resorts.’

‘I told you twice now, the land is valuable. Now let’s go.’ He took her arm and moved back to the crowd, and Hannah had no choice but to follow his lead. The Luca Moretti she knew wouldn’t kowtow to anyone’s demands, especially if he thought they were unreasonable. So why was he in this case?

She had no time to ponder the question as they were plunged back into the complicated social dynamics of three men who clearly respected if not liked each other, and were all bidding for the same job, while Andrew Tyson presided over them all.

At dinner Hannah sat next to Daniela, the sulky, beautiful woman who was partner to James, the CEO of a slick development company in the City. ‘So how long have you been working for Luca?’ she asked Hannah as the first course was served.

Luca, was it? Hannah covertly studied Daniela’s tall, lithe build, the long blond hair she kept tossing over her shoulder in an artful, deliberate way. ‘Three years.’

‘And you have been engaged for how long?’

A couple of hours. ‘A few weeks.’ Hannah took a sip of the cold cucumber soup to keep from having to say anything else.

‘I never thought a man like Luca would marry,’ Daniela said with a burning stare for the man in question, who was chatting with Simon, the third developer, across the table. ‘He always seemed like the type to love and leave.’

‘Until he found someone he wanted to stay with,’ Hannah returned.

Daniela arched an eyebrow, the scepticism evident on her face. ‘You’re quite different from the women Luca is usually seen with. Not quite as...polished.’

Stung by this unsubtle put-down, Hannah lifted her chin. ‘I didn’t realise you knew him.’

‘Oh, I know him,’ Daniela said darkly and Hannah inwardly seethed. Luca could have warned her that a former paramour would be here, unsheathing her claws and trying to draw blood. And what if she gave something away to this elegant harpy? Daniela might know more about Luca than she did. Judging by her smouldering looks, it seemed almost a certainty. The idea made her feel unsettled in a way she didn’t like. She wasn’t jealous, just annoyed and angry all over again at Luca putting her in this position.

By the time the dessert plates had been cleared and coffee served, Hannah was having trouble keeping up her sparkly pretence. The excitement of pretending to be someone she wasn’t had worn thin, and she longed only to return to their room and go to sleep. Actually, what she really wanted to do was go back to London and snuggle with her son. When she’d been in the bathroom changing she’d managed to speak to Jamie on the phone for a few minutes, listening to him chatter about his day, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough.

Luca must have seen the slump of her shoulders or the fatigue on her face for in one graceful movement he rose from the table. ‘It’s been a lovely evening, but I fear I’ve tired my fiancée out. Do you mind if we excuse ourselves?’

‘Not at all, not at all,’ Andrew replied as he also rose. ‘We’ll see you both in the morning.’

Luca and Hannah made their farewells to the rest of the group and then they walked in silence to their bedroom; with each step Hannah was remembering that big bed and how small it now actually seemed. They surely wouldn’t share it. Luca would be a gentleman and make up a bed on the divan. Or so she hoped.

And yet even the thought of sharing the same room with Luca made her head go light and her palms turn damp. He was so male, so potently virile and sexual. She’d been immune—mostly—in their usual office environment, but she felt it keenly here, when they were sharing a bedroom and the moonlight and the gentle whooshing of the sea conspired to make everything seem romantic.

Luca opened the door to their bedroom, stepping aside so Hannah could go in first. He shrugged off his jacket while Hannah kicked off her heels with a groan. ‘Wretched things.’

‘You’re not a fan of high heels?’

‘I like taking them off.’ The room was bathed in moonlight, the windows open to the sea breeze, the light from the lamps on the bedside tables giving out a cosy glow. Hannah glanced at the bed, which had been turned down, the cream duvet folded back to reveal the silky sheet beneath. A heart-shaped chocolate in gold foil nestled on each pillow. ‘How is that going to work?’ she asked, deciding to tackle the problem head-on.

Luca barely glanced at the bed. ‘How is what going to work?’ His fingers had already gone to the buttons of his shirt, and, heaven help her, he was going to take it off again. And this time she might let herself watch.

‘Sleeping arrangements,’ Hannah said, dragging her gaze away from the tantalising glimpse of Luca’s chest. ‘We can’t both sleep in the bed.’

‘Oh?’ He sounded amused. ‘Why can’t we?’

‘Because!’ Startled, she turned back to him and watched as he shrugged out of his shirt and then went for his belt buckle. ‘Luca. Can’t you change in the bathroom?’

‘What are you, a nun? If it makes you feel better, I won’t sleep in the nude as I usually do.’

‘What a prince,’ Hannah gritted through her teeth. ‘Seriously, Luca—’

‘Seriously,’ he said as he reached for a pair of drawstring pyjama pants that were going to leave very little to the imagination. ‘It’s a bed. It’s huge. We can both sleep in it. I need my sleep, and I don’t want anyone suspecting that we’re not sleeping together. And, in case you’re worried, I’m perfectly capable of sharing a bed without ravishing the other occupant.’

Hannah swung away as Luca dropped his trousers to change into his pyjamas. ‘I’m not afraid of that,’ she said, staring hard at the curtains drawn against the French windows. She could hear the whisper of fabric over Luca’s legs, imagined his powerful thighs, muscles flexing...

Stop. Hannah pressed one hand to her flaming cheek. She really had to get a grip on her imagination. And her hormones.

‘I’m dressed,’ he said mildly. ‘You can turn around.’

Taking a deep breath, Hannah did so. And dropped her gaze to his bare chest, his perfectly sculpted pectoral muscles lightly dusted with dark hair. The pyjama bottoms were slung low on his hips, so she could see the taut muscles of his abdomen, tapering down to... Quickly she jerked her gaze back up.

‘If you’re not worried that I’m going to ravish you, what are you afraid of?’ Luca asked.

Why did he have to sound so reasonable? And make her feel so ridiculous? ‘It just doesn’t seem appropriate,’ Hannah muttered.

‘Hannah, we passed “appropriate” a while ago.’ He took a step towards her, his hands outstretched. ‘Look, you were magnificent back there. The whole thing about the Eiffel tower and the ring? I was practically believing it myself. And you seemed like you were having fun.’ Hannah looked away, biting her lip. ‘Well?’ Luca pressed. ‘Were you?’

‘Sort of,’ she admitted. What woman wouldn’t like to step into a fairy tale for an evening, even if it was fake?

‘So maybe you should let go of what’s appropriate in this situation,’ Luca suggested, his voice dropping to a beguiling murmur, standing only a step away from her.

She had the insane urge to reach out and stroke his chest.

‘Let yourself enter into the spirit of the thing,’ Luca continued, his voice all honeyed persuasion. ‘Like you did tonight.’

‘And share your bed.’

‘In the literal sense only.’

‘Oh, you know I didn’t mean that,’ Hannah protested, her face flaming once more. She shook her head. ‘Honestly, you’re incorrigible.’

‘You’ve only just realised that?’ He turned to the huge bed and plucked the chocolate from the pillow. ‘So what are you waiting for?’ he asked as he unwrapped the chocolate and popped it into his mouth. ‘Come to bed.’