Читать книгу Bound To A Billionaire - Мишель Смарт, Michelle Smart - Страница 16
ОглавлениеFRANCESCA CLOSED THE folder sprawled on her lap with a sigh and rubbed her eyes. It was gone midnight. She’d been in her suite since their return to the hotel, having another re-read of the foundation’s files. She wished she’d brought some of the case files she was supposed to be studying for her traineeship with her, could kick herself for not even thinking about it. When she returned home to Pisa she would get her head down and get stuck back into her studies.
In the hours spent reading, she’d ordered room service and drunk nothing stronger than black coffee but even all the caffeine couldn’t stop the heaviness of her eyes. All those Tequila Sunrises from the night before had finally caught up with her. She was exhausted.
She really needed to get some sleep but was terrified of closing her eyes, wondered if there was some magic pill out there that guaranteed a dreamless sleep.
Her thoughts, as always, drifted back to Felipe. As the night had gone on her fury at his high-handed behaviour had slowly evaporated.
She wondered where he was. Had he left his suite that evening or stayed in as she had done? The hotel’s walls were so solid that no sound penetrated.
On impulse she leaned over, picked up the telephone receiver from the bedside table and dialled his room number.
He answered on the second ring. ‘Yes?’
‘It’s me. Francesca Pellegrini.’
She pulled a disgusted face at herself. Why did she give him her surname?
There was a small pause before he said, a slight tinge of amusement in his voice, ‘What can I do for you, Francesca Pellegrini?’
His words sounded like a caress. He really had the dreamiest of voices.
‘I wanted to say thank you...for digging me out of the hole I’d put myself and the foundation in...and...and...’ She forced the word out. ‘Sorry...for being so ungrateful about it.’
‘Apology accepted.’
‘Just like that?’
‘Just like that.’
‘You don’t want me to crawl over broken glass to show my penitence?’
A low rumble of laughter blew into her ear and curled its way down her spine. ‘An apology is enough. I’m not without blame. You weren’t being ungrateful. You were right to be angry with me. I should have consulted with you before I went ahead with my plans.’
‘Why didn’t you?’
‘I was angry with you and the whole situation. I thought you’d behaved insanely.’
‘I did behave insanely,’ she conceded. ‘Do you normally try and fix the holes your clients dig for themselves?’
A small pause. ‘No.’
‘Do you often get angry with your clients?’
Another small pause. ‘No. It’s not my place to get angry with them or fix their problems. I’m paid to protect them, not have an opinion.’
His confession made the most wonderful warmth spread through her. She pulled her knees up and curled against the headboard and murmured, ‘I must be special then.’
Another rumble of laughter. ‘That is one way to describe you.’
‘Am I the most annoying client you’ve ever had?’
‘You’re the most challenging,’ he answered drily.
‘I’ve always been challenging.’
‘I’ll bet.’
A silence formed.
‘It’s late. I should let you go,’ she said, breaking it. But she didn’t want to let him go. She wanted to have that glorious voice speak into her ear all night. A thought occurred to her. ‘Did I wake you?’
‘I’m watching a film in bed.’
‘Is it any good?’
‘It’s bad enough to remind me why I hate television.’
‘You can’t hate television,’ she said, feigning outrage.
He groaned. ‘Don’t tell me you’re one of those television addicts?’
‘I love television,’ she informed him gleefully. ‘If I was put on a desert island and only allowed to take one thing that would be it.’
‘You’re a heathen.’
‘A heathen with a large collection of box sets.’
His laughter rumbled down the line again, warming her from her lobes all the way down to her toes.
To think Felipe was lying in his bed too...
‘Did you go anywhere for dinner?’ she asked.
‘I had room service in my suite.’
‘So did I.’
‘What did you have?’
‘Jambalaya. You?’
‘The same.’
There was no reasonable answer as to why Felipe independently eating the same meal as her should make her glow.
Another silence formed, this time broken by Felipe. ‘We should get some sleep.’
‘I’m not tired.’ A lie. She was exhausted. But speaking to Felipe had recharged her. She wanted more than a conversation down the phone. The easiness of their talk, the subtle undertones racing beneath it propelled her to say, ‘Do you want to come to my suite for a nightcap?’
There was another prolonged pause with time enough to make her heart expand with anticipation.
‘Goodnight, Francesca,’ he eventually said in such a gentle tone her heart flipped over on itself and her unanswered offer didn’t sting as much as it should.
She hugged the receiver to her chest for a long time after he’d hung up.
* * *
When Felipe strode into the hotel lobby the next morning, the first person he saw was Francesca, sitting on a sofa with her legs elegantly crossed, reading a newspaper.
As if she had a sixth sense to his presence, she tilted her head and immediately fixed her gaze on him. Her lips curved into a smile that made his chest compress.
He nodded a greeting in return.
He’d given himself a sharp talking to that morning, reminding himself of all the reasons he needed to keep his distance from this mesmeric woman. He’d put the phone down after their late-night conversation with an ache in his groin that had still been there when he’d woken.
Her call had caught him off guard. Her husky voice had played down the line, into his ear and into his veins before he could put the mental blocks in place to deflect it.
Her apology had taken him off guard too. Francesca was not a woman who found apologies easy.
That he knew such a thing about her disturbed him on many different levels but nowhere near as disturbing as the strength it had taken to refuse her suggestive offer of a nightcap. He hadn’t been able to refuse in words, not when his tongue had been clamouring with the rest of his body to say yes.
He should have ended the call after she’d made her apology, not allowed that husky voice draw him into further, more intimate conversation.
They had five more days left together and in one respect he was glad they would now be able to get through it without a wishing well full of antagonism between them.
He could laugh at his optimism. He’d only known her a short time but knew perfectly well Francesca was not a woman one could expect to have an easy life with, not even for five short days. Everything she did, she did with passion. Everything she felt was with passion.
He’d felt that passion for himself and, Dios, he craved to feel it again.
He’d never met anyone like her. He’d never desired anyone as he did her. He’d never become aroused at a voice before.
He’d had to force himself to say goodnight.
‘Ready to go?’ he said briskly. He would not allow the spell they’d fallen into during their late-night call seep into the job in hand.
It had been one phone call, he told himself irritably. They’d hardly shared a naked sauna together.
But, naturally, his thoughts immediately turned to the image permanently lodged in his retinas of her sunbathing in that tiny yellow bikini.
Thankfully, today she was fully covered in a simple blue knee-length dress, black fitted jacket and black heels, her dark hair plaited and coiled. She looked ready to step into a courtroom. She also looked as sexy as a siren.
Her light brown eyes widened a little at his tone but her poise remained. ‘I’m ready when you are.’
They collected Seb and James at their lodgings and then drove onto the airport, keeping conversation light and professional. If not for the gleam in her eyes every time she looked at him he could believe he’d mistaken the sensual undertone in her nightcap offer. But the gleam shone brightly. She shone brightly even though she was more together and composed than he had ever seen her.
When she met with the official in charge of the island’s medical service, who in turn expected his own bribe, he was impressed with the way she used a combination of facts, charm and intelligence to deflect him and get him to agree to naming a wing of the hospital after him in lieu of a backhander.
‘Weren’t you tempted to use that technique when dealing with the Governor?’ he asked on the drive back to the airport.
She shook her head and pulled her lips together ruefully. ‘I wish that meeting could be scrubbed away so I could pretend it never happened. I was so excited to get his agreement that, frankly, if he’d asked me to serve him the moon on a dish I would have accepted. I didn’t think the ramifications through clearly. I should have been a lot more prepared.’
He admired her ability not to pull punches at her own faults. The more he observed her, the more he found to admire, from her professionalism to that inherent zest for life she carried with her. ‘You didn’t make the same mistake this time.’
She met his eye and her lips curved. ‘I make it a point to learn from my mistakes, not repeat them.’
That was so close to his own personal beliefs that for a moment he was tempted to pull her to him...
Ever since those crazy, heady few minutes in her suite he’d done his damnedest not to think of it, not to remember the sweet heat of her passionate kisses or the softness of her lips and silkiness of her skin. It was the cry of surprise she’d made when she’d come with virtually one touch that he couldn’t eradicate. Remembering that sound made his every sinew tighten.
He knew he could never make the mistake of being alone in a room with her again.
‘Boss?’
James’s voice broke into his thoughts. They’d pulled into Caballeros airport where the pilot was waiting for them. ‘Yes?’
‘See that black Mondeo?’
Felipe followed his gaze. Roughly ten metres away from their Cessna sat the car that had followed them from the Governor’s house three days ago.
He thought quickly as he scanned their surroundings.
‘Stay here,’ he told Francesca before getting out of the car. Seb and James, who’d already recognised the danger and armed themselves, didn’t need to be told to stay with her or to keep the engine running.
Gun in hand, keeping the black car in his eyeline, he strolled with deceptive casualness to the Cessna. If this was an ambush he wouldn’t have Francesca caught in any crossfire.
‘How long has that Mondeo been there?’ he asked his man who he’d left with the pilot.
‘Three hours. Three men.’
‘Any activity?’
‘None. I’ve run a trace on the licence plate but you know what this island’s like—even before the hurricane I doubt I’d have got any information from it. We’re working on facial recognition as we speak.’
Felipe nodded grimly and said to the pilot, ‘Get ready to leave.’
The small plane’s engine was switched on before his feet hit the tarmac and he was heading back to Francesca.
‘What’s going on?’ she asked when he opened the car door. ‘Is it the men who were following us before?’
‘It appears so.’ He held out his hand, preparing to throw her over his shoulder if she gave any resistance. ‘Time to move.’
He gave her credit. She didn’t hesitate or demand more answers. Her eyes held his—he could almost read her thoughts, Francesca saying ‘Okay, I’m trusting you here,’—and she took his hand and held it tightly on the quick march back to the plane, James flanking her other side, Seb bringing up the rear.
Only when they were seated, their belts hardly buckled before the pilot had them airborne, did she quietly say, ‘I assume those men mean trouble.’
‘I have to assume that too.’
She nodded slowly. ‘Them being at the airport can’t be a coincidence. What do you think they want?’
‘That’s the million dollar question.’ A question he’d give one of his kidneys to answer.
She didn’t speak for the longest time. ‘Do you think they know about the money?’
‘I would put my savings on it.’ He wiped perspiration from his brow. He already knew what he would have to do.
Unbuckling himself, he moved to the front of the plane to share his thoughts with his men.
He waited until they arrived at James and Seb’s lodgings and the two men had got out of the car before sharing it with Francesca. She’d proved remarkably stoical about the situation. He must have made a dozen phone calls and she’d sat quietly beside him, not interrupting, not talking, letting him get on with what he needed to do.
‘James and Seb are getting their gear together. They’re coming with us.’
‘To our hotel?’
‘I’ve also arranged for three of my men staying in Caballeros to fly here. Between them they’ll cover all entry points to the hotel and keep watch.’ Now that the threat against Francesca was unequivocal he would not trust her safety in the hotel to the security guards. Guards could be bribed. His men could not. His men wouldn’t miss anything.
The face she pulled was sceptical. ‘You think those men at the airport are going to come here?’
‘I don’t know what those men are going to do so I’m preparing for any eventuality.’
‘Aguadilla has really tight security. Our hotel has really tight security. They haven’t got a hope of getting to us.’
‘You may be right but I’m not taking any risks.’ He wasn’t prepared to leave anything to chance. Security at Aguadilla airport was as tight as any in the US or Europe, its waters heavily patrolled. In theory Francesca should be safe for as long as she remained in Aguadilla. In theory.
Felipe had learned a long time ago that ‘in theory’ didn’t mean a damn thing. People were unpredictable, especially those under pressure.
His gut told him it was the money the men were after and not Francesca personally. They’d initially followed them from the Governor’s residence. That had to mean they’d been tipped off about the money from a member of the Governor’s personal staff.
But what if he was wrong? What if they wanted both, the cash and a hostage for ransom?
What if they weren’t merely staking them out, waiting for signs of the cash, and were instead only waiting for an opportunity to snatch her? He’d been at the forefront of a hostage situation that had gone wrong. The thought of Francesca being held...
His stomach roiled violently.
He’d watched the light die in Sergio’s eyes and the eyes of his other fallen comrades. He could not allow himself to imagine it draining from Francesca’s eyes too. To protect her and keep her safe he had to keep his focus.
There were too many what-ifs. Far too many.
* * *
Francesca was quite sure she should be biting her nails in terror. That would be a normal reaction to being followed by unknown persons on one of the most dangerous islands in the world.
But she was safe in Aguadilla with Felipe and his army of warriors protecting her. Unlike Caballeros, Aguadilla was a true paradise.
She’d definitely experienced fear when she’d realised the men who’d followed them after her meeting with the Governor had been staking out their Cessna but one look into Felipe’s dark eyes had been all the reassurance she’d needed. He hadn’t needed to spell it out, his eyes had told her everything she needed to know. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her.
Once they’d made the brief walk from the car to the plane without incident, she’d been able to breathe. If they’d wanted to take her, they’d had their chance.
It was the money they were after. The money she’d foolishly agreed to bring in cash into Caballeros.
So, no, it wasn’t fear currently gripping her. It was guilt, and mingled with it a strange form of exhilaration, an awareness of her blood pulsing through her veins. She’d never been so aware of being alive, of the sun’s rays beaming onto her skin, of the soft material of her dress caressing her body, of the sweet scent of the air filling her lungs, all the small things she took for granted in her daily life sharply in focus as if she were experiencing them for the first time.
The closest she had come to this feeling before had been two nights ago in Felipe’s arms.
She followed him through the hotel, marvelling at the strength of his frame, noticed again the slight limp, the only imperfection she could find on this magnificent man whose arms she longed to be in once more.
When they reached their suites, she opened her mouth to thank him and to apologise—again—for all the trouble her actions had brought on them.
Before she could speak, though, Felipe said, ‘Come into mine for a minute while I get my stuff together.’
‘Why? Are we changing hotels?’
‘I’m changing rooms.’ His features darkened. ‘I’m moving into your suite. Until we trace those men and know who they’re working for and what their intentions are, you’re not to be alone.’
Far from sharing the thrill that raced through her at the thought of them sharing a suite, he had the face of a man tasked with guarding a hungry Venus flytrap.
She tailed him into his suite, a mirror image of her own, and took a seat on the sofa, watching as he pulled a large khaki kitbag from a cupboard and put it on the bed. He then walked into his dressing room and returned with an armful of clothes.
‘Do you normally do sleepovers?’ she asked, trying to lighten the atmosphere.
She was rewarded with a biting glare. ‘This isn’t a joke.’
‘I know.’
‘Then don’t act as if it is.’
‘What do you want me to do? Cower in a corner? Hide under a bed? It’s obvious that they’re after the money. All they’re going to do is watch us until they know the cash is here... When is the money due?’
‘Saturday. And it’s obvious, is it? I thought you were training to be a lawyer. There’s no clear evidence for a scenario so we’re going to act as if any scenario is a possibility.’
‘If it’s me they want then they would have tried to take me already.’
‘How do you know that?’ he said through gritted teeth.
‘An educated guess.’
‘But still a guess.’
But she wasn’t saying anything Felipe hadn’t already thought. Whoever these men were, they’d had the opportunity to make a grab for her if it was indeed Francesca they wanted. These were cautious people he was dealing with, not hot-headed druggies. Stupid too. Parking just feet away from their Cessna and waiting for three hours without attempting to give themselves a cover story was the height of stupidity, and stupid people were the most dangerous.
His gut agreed with Francesca that they were after the money.
He could stay in his own suite in good conscience, content that she was safe in hers.
But he couldn’t take the risk. Not with her. Just thinking it was enough for him to break out in a cold sweat.
What if his gut instinct born from almost two decades of risk assessments in dangerous situations was wrong?
This was why one didn’t mix business with pleasure, he thought grimly, storming into the bathroom to get his toiletries. It clouded judgement. It made one doubt oneself.
Like it or not, his attraction to Francesca and the weight in his chest from being around her was accelerating. All his senses were attuned as if she were a magnet they were straining towards.
It was a fight to contain it. To protect her effectively he needed his head clear, a task made harder by the way she kept looking at him. If he could tune her out he would be fine. But he already knew tuning Francesca Pellegrini out was near on impossible.
One night alone in a suite with her he could handle. Any longer than that...
‘I’m taking you back to Pisa in the morning,’ he told her as he placed his toiletry bag with the rest of his kit, bracing himself for the furious protest that was bound to follow.
‘No way,’ she snapped, her nonchalance gone in an instant, just as he’d expected.
‘It’s too dangerous for you here. Pisa is safe. If I could take you back now I would but the quickest I can get a jet here is for early tomorrow morning and there’s no commercial flights leaving any sooner. We’ll leave first thing.’
‘I’m not abandoning the project. No way.’
‘You won’t be abandoning it.’ He would not allow her to set foot in that country again. ‘You’ve got the agreement for the sale and met with the government’s health representative. I’ll get the cash to the Governor. Everything else can be handled by Daniele—he’s the one who’ll be getting the hospital built.’
‘I’m going to the Governor’s party,’ she told him obstinately. ‘If I don’t attend he will see it as an insult and withdraw his permission and the hospital will never be built.’
Felipe swore loudly.
Damn it, she was right.
He thought quickly. The party was four days away. Plenty of time to draw up effective plans to protect both Francesca and the money.
‘I’ll fly you back for the party,’ he said with a curt nod. ‘But we leave here first thing in the morning. You’ll be a sitting target if you stay. I’m taking you home where you’ll be safe and I will have no further argument about it. When I bring you back, you will have nothing to do with the handover of the money. You will do exactly as you’re told.’
He zipped his kitbag with more force than necessary and waited for another onslaught.
He knew he sounded like a tyrant but didn’t care. The cold fear he’d experienced when he’d recognised that car had been like nothing he’d ever felt before, not even when he’d realised too late he’d led his men into a trap.
But no explosion came.
When he next looked at her, Francesca’s legs were crossed, her fingers laced together, a thoughtful expression on her beautiful face as she studied him. Then her lips curved into a smile and she said, ‘Does this mean we get to share a nightcap now?’
