Читать книгу Summer Surrender: Capelli's Captive Virgin / Italian Boss, Proud Miss Prim / The Italian's One-Night Love-Child - Кэтти Уильямс, Susan Stephens, Cathy Williams - Страница 7

ALESSIO CAPELLI rode the glass elevator down to the ground floor of his office building, ignoring the insistent buzz of the telephone that was tucked in the pocket of his suit.

He should have been rejoicing. In one short meeting he’d gained another high-profile, influential client and, more to the point, he’d ripped him away from a rival law firm. Ruthlessly competitive, Alessio waited for the usual high that came from defeating an adversary, but this time there was nothing.

Instead his brain was dominated by a picture of a pair of troubled blue eyes and blonde hair so tightly secured at the base of her slender neck that not even a strand was likely to escape.

Control, he thought dryly. Lindsay Lockheart was big on control. She controlled her hair, she controlled her emotions, but most especially she controlled her little sister.

For a woman who made her living trying to modify human behaviour, Lindsay was appallingly naïve when it came to understanding the actions of her younger sibling.

He’d never met anyone so serious. She acted as though she were ninety, and yet he knew she was only in her late twenties.

He strode across the polished marble floor of the lobby, through the revolving glass door and out into the street where his car awaited.

As if conjured straight from his thoughts, there was Lindsay Lockheart. She was standing by his car wearing the same crisp white shirt and slim black skirt that she’d had on earlier, her small overnight bag clutched in her fingers. Her delicate chin was held at a certain angle and there was a hopeful look in her eyes that melted into anxiety as she saw that he was on his own.

His driver shot him a look of nervous apology and Alessio sighed, lifted a brow in sardonic appraisal and focused his gaze on her pale face. ‘If you want to spend more time conversing, then I’m going to have to bill you.’

She stepped towards him. ‘Has Ruby turned up?’

‘You are obsessed with your sister’s movements.’ He handed his case to his driver, noting the way her cheeks blanched. It was a strange sibling relationship, he mused. Just how far was Lindsay prepared to go for her wayward sister? And, more interestingly, why?

‘I love my sister,’ she said huskily, ‘and I won’t apologise for that. Nor do I intend to explain myself to you.’

‘A decision that leaves me quite weak with relief,’ Alessio confessed in a lazy drawl, his eyes drawn to the tempting thrust of her breasts through her perfect white shirt. ‘I can’t imagine anything more likely to challenge my attention span than a summary of your family history. So, if you haven’t come to bore me, why are you here?’

‘I was checking whether you’d heard anything. I thought she might have turned up to do her job.’

‘Sadly for Ruby, the answer is no.’

Her slim shoulders sagged slightly as he delivered what was clearly a very unwelcome piece of news. ‘Could you give her a few more minutes? Just in case?’

‘No,’ he said gently, ‘I couldn’t.’

She closed her eyes briefly and he saw that her lashes were long and thick, the skin on her eyelids as pale as the rest of her face. ‘Please—’ Her voice cracked and when she opened her eyes again there was desperation there. ‘I—I know we don’t agree on things, but this is really important to me. Is there anything I can do to stop you firing her?’

The wild and wicked side of him took over. ‘Come in her place.’

He made the demand in absolute confidence that she would refuse.

The way they lived their lives was diametrically opposed.

On the surface they clashed, conflicted and disagreed.

But perhaps the biggest discordance lay under the surface. The powerful pull of sexual attraction disturbed her and he had a strong feeling that the roots of that disturbance were to be found deeper than the obvious restrictions posed by her ridiculously idealistic belief system.

He knew there was no way that Lindsay would ever voluntarily put herself in his path, so when she responded with a shocked ‘I can’t do that,’ he shrugged, reflecting on the fact that being constantly right could border on the tedious.

‘Of course you can’t.’ He couldn’t resist goading her a little more. ‘To be trapped with me in a romantic Caribbean hideaway would be a completely unfair test of your willpower. I understand.’

‘You flatter yourself, Signor Capelli.’ Her voice shook and her cheeks had slightly more colour than they had a moment earlier. ‘I could lie naked in a bed with you and still have no trouble resisting you because I know you’re just not right for me.’

Alessio laughed, thoroughly enjoying himself. ‘Now that’s a challenge no red-blooded Sicilian could refuse.’

‘I wasn’t issuing a challenge,’ she said stiffly. ‘I was merely pointing out that the brain does actually play a prominent part in my decisions although I can understand that you, as a “red-blooded Sicilian”, might find that hard to comprehend since you obviously think with a very different part of your anatomy.’

And that particular part of his anatomy was currently making its existence felt in the most predictable way possible, Alessio acknowledged wryly. And given that Lindsay Lockheart had yet to discover the wonders of sex without emotional attachment, the only available solution to this particular attack of animal lust appeared to be a cold shower.

‘If you have so much faith in your mental discipline, why would you be afraid to come with me?’

‘I’m not afraid.’ Her chin lifted and suddenly the tension between the two of them reached screaming pitch.

‘You’re afraid, Lindsay,’ Alessio said softly, ‘and I’ll tell you why. So far, the only thing that has kept me from having sex with you is lack of opportunity.’

She was so deliciously easy to shock, he mused, watching as her eyes widened and hot colour poured into her cheeks.

‘That’s nonsense. We could have all the opportunity in the world and I still wouldn’t have—we wouldn’t—’ She swallowed. ‘The ability to think and use our brains is what separates us from animals. I’m in control of what I do.’

‘If you’re so confident about that, then come in your sister’s place.’

He could see a tiny pulse beating in her creamy throat as she struggled with the challenge he’d thrown into her path. ‘I can’t just abandon my life.’

‘You mean you don’t trust yourself to be on a Caribbean island with me and not have sex.’ He gave a slow, sure smile. ‘Be honest, Lindsay. You know that your logical approach to relationships is going to be worth nothing when we’re both naked. And you’re afraid to lose.’

‘Damn you,’ she whispered, her eyes sparking angrily. ‘Damn you for making this about us when it should be about my sister.’

‘If it was about your sister, then you’d come.’

The lawyer in him interpreted every expression that flickered across her face. Nerves, worry, stress, fear and something else that he couldn’t immediately identify—something much, much more complex than all the other emotions put together—

‘I can’t just drop my life at a moment’s notice.’

‘You’re worried that one of your clients might get divorced when you’re not looking and that would be bad for publicity?’

‘I don’t care about publicity. I don’t care about winning and losing. I care about people. I care about Ruby. And I’m not coming with you.’

Alessio was astonished by the depth of his disappointment.

Why should it matter to him? It wasn’t as if his bed was going to be empty.

There was no shortage of beautiful, sophisticated women desperate for his attention. Women who wouldn’t waste time fighting him. Why would he be bothered about Lindsay’s refusal?

And then he gave a wry smile, a flash of insight giving him the reason for his reaction.

He hated losing.

He absolutely hated losing, but it had been so long since he’d lost at anything that he hadn’t immediately recognised the feeling. And if there was one thing designed to send his competitive streak into overdrive, it was the concept of losing.

Lindsay Lockheart represented a challenge. And when had a woman ever been a challenge to him?

Aware that his driver was agitated about the time, he applied analytical skills to the problem. ‘Fine. If I hear from her before you do I’ll be sure to tell her that you cared about her. But not enough to do her job in her place. Have a good flight back.’ And with that carefully orchestrated parting shot he strode towards the car, wondering how long it would take.

Three strides? Maybe four?

‘All right.’ Her voice stopped him on two and he smiled to himself as he turned because in the end it had been disappointingly easy.

Women were so predictable.

‘Scusi?’ He pretended to be confused, watching as she walked towards him like someone going to the gallows.

‘Why would you be surprised? You’ve won, Alessio. Isn’t that what you always do? You find your opponent’s weakness and you exploit it.’ Without giving him time to answer, she pushed past him and slid into the back of the car.

And clearly she wasn’t used to getting into the back of a limousine. Accommodating her sudden movement, her skirt slid up to mid-thigh and Alessio’s attention was momentarily diverted. Fabulous legs, he thought absently, his libido acting like a break on his thought processes. Who would have thought that Lindsay Lockheart was hiding a body like that under her sober, serious black skirt? Those long, shapely legs appeared to be encased in sheer stockings with a hint of a sheen and Alessio found himself wishing that her skirt were just slightly shorter …

Then she tugged the skirt down and Alessio started to breathe again.

‘Let me get this straight—’ trying to ignore the vicious ache in his loins, he dragged his gaze away from her slender ankles and leaned an arm on the roof of the car ‘—you’re offering to warm my bed in the Caribbean?’

‘No, I’m not.’ She turned her head and her blue eyes connected with his. ‘You may think you’ve won, but winning doesn’t matter to me. All that matters is protecting Ruby. And if stepping into her shoes protects her job, then fine, I’ll work for you.’ Her tone was cool and collected, but he saw that her pupils were dilated and her breathing was rapid and shallow. Her fingers clutched her bag tightly and Alessio suddenly had a disconcertingly clear image of her naked and squirming on his silk sheets, those same slender fingers curled around a certain part of him.

How much of a nudge would it take to push her from prim to passionate?

He decided to push her a little further out of her comfort zone. ‘My client is recovering from the end of a disastrous marriage. He needs relaxation and legal counsel.’ Was she wearing lipstick? He didn’t think so but there was a tempting sheen to her lips. ‘A relationship counsellor would be about as helpful on this trip as a blizzard at a barbecue.’

‘I’m not accompanying you in my role as relationship counsellor.’ She tucked her bag neatly by her side, but still she didn’t look at him. ‘I worked for a year in a law firm in London when I left college. You can give me a full brief. Whatever it is you expect of Ruby, I’m sure I’ll be able to fulfil it. And I can relax, Alessio, if that’s what’s worrying you.’ But every angle of her body shrieked tension. She looked like someone who was on the verge of snapping in two.

The trip was clearly going to be a nightmare for her. ‘Are you doing this to save your sister’s job or to prove to yourself that your brain is stronger than your body?’

She stilled. ‘I don’t need to prove anything.’

‘So it’s all about your sister.’ But he didn’t believe that for a moment. He sensed that there was much, much more behind her acceptance than a desire to protect her sister’s job. He also sensed that his careless challenge had touched something deep inside her. ‘You think you can make it through a whole week without lecturing me or my client on love and marriage?’

She bit her lip—the same lip he couldn’t stop staring at. ‘Of course.’

‘Or sleeping in my bed?’

‘That will be the easy part.’

Alessio studied her profile thoughtfully. What had promised to be a mundane, uneventful business trip suddenly seemed full of interesting possibilities. ‘What happens when emotions overcome your rational side, Lindsay?’

‘Making decisions based on emotions is always a mistake. I don’t let that happen.’

Alessio’s eyes dropped to the perfect curve of her mouth and drifted down to the slim column of her neck. ‘Are you saying that you’ve never made an impulsive decision based on an emotion?’

‘No.’ Her tone was crisp. ‘And I’m sure that you haven’t, either. Even when you’re in bed with a woman I’m wiling to bet that part of you stays detached. You exercise control over your emotions all the time and you’re much too cynical to allow yourself to be taken for a ride.’

Surprised by her insight, Alessio laughed. ‘You might be right about that. All right, Lindsay Lockheart—’ he reached out a hand and took the passport she held out to him ‘—let’s see how an incurable cynic and a relationship counsellor get on when confined in a small space. I have a feeling that the next week is going to be interesting.’

Private jet. Why did he have to own a private jet?

She’d been hoping for safety in numbers for their flight to the Caribbean, instead of which it was just her and Alessio and a discreet cabin staff who only materialised when something was needed.

Trying not to be overawed by the sumptuous interior of the plane, Lindsay steadily called her way through her list of clients, relieved to have something to do that didn’t involve talking to Alessio Capelli. ‘I know, Alison,’ she soothed as she listened to the latest round of developments in her client’s tempestuous marriage, ‘but do you remember what we talked about last time we met? About selective listening?’ Catching Alessio’s amused gaze, she gritted her teeth. ‘I’ll be back next week and we can talk about it then.’ Lindsay ended the conversation and dialled her next number, determined that he wouldn’t unsettle her, but all too aware of his own conversation.

‘Let her sweat, Jack,’ he drawled, the phone tucked between his cheek and his shoulder as he studied the screen of his laptop. ‘She’ll be lucky to walk away with the staff flat by the time we’ve finished with her.’

Lindsay gritted her teeth, kept her own call as brief as possible and tried to ignore the worsening pain in her head.

When he finally hung up, she glared at him. ‘Don’t you ever feel guilty? That poor woman has probably given the best years of her life bringing up his children and making him a home, while he was off picking a younger model.’

Alessio stretched his legs out in front of him, completely relaxed. ‘That “poor woman” abandoned her two young children to pursue her affair with her ski instructor.’

Taken aback, Lindsay frowned. ‘Oh—that’s terrible. The poor man. Is he doing all right?’

‘He will be by the time I’ve finished.’ Alessio gave a deadly smile as he pulled a file out of his briefcase. ‘Revenge is sweet. We’ll get her where it hurts her most.’

Lindsay ignored that comment. ‘How are the children?’

‘Better off without her.’ Alessio opened the file and scribbled something in the margin of the first page while Lindsay watched him, deeply troubled.

‘However deep his own pain, I’m sure he wouldn’t want to hurt the mother of his children.’

‘Are you?’ Alessio reached for a file from the table. ‘That’s why you’re not a divorce lawyer.’

Lindsay put down her appointments diary carefully. ‘You can’t apply cold, hard facts to people’s relationships. It just doesn’t work. It’s important to delve deeper. I’m immediately asking myself why she would do a thing like that. Why would any mother leave her children? Was she depressed or something?’

Alessio gaze was faintly mocking. ‘I think it’s fair to say that she was extremely depressed once she realised that she’d trashed her chance of receiving a generous settlement.’

Lindsay lifted her fingers to her forehead, telling herself that his warped humour and lack of sentiment was good. If he kept talking like that it would make it easier to ignore the chemistry that still managed to crackle between them. Chemistry that made it impossible for her to relax.

How was she going to survive a week with him?

It wasn’t that she had doubts about her own willpower, because she didn’t; it was more that their powerful sexual connection stirred up something dark and ugly in the depths of her brain. Something that she didn’t want to face.

Feeling a flicker of panic, she concentrated her mind on work. ‘People usually have reasons for the way they act, Alessio. If she left her children, then—’ her hand dropped to her lap as she pondered the issue ‘—perhaps she didn’t want children in the first place. Did he pressure her? Was he a lot older than her? Was parenthood an issue that they discussed before they married?’

Incredulous dark eyes met hers. ‘Accidenti, how would I know? I’m a lawyer, not a psychiatrist.’ With an impatient flick of his long fingers, Alessio flipped through the pages.

‘But surely they should try some form of counselling before they just give up. He should let her come back and try again. There are children involved—’

‘What makes you think she wants to come back?’

Appalled, Lindsay stared at him. ‘Doesn’t she?’

He lifted his gaze to hers. ‘Lindsay—’ his voice held a warning note ‘—you’re doing it already. Ignoring the facts and looking at the emotions.’

‘Emotions are important.’

‘But they’re your emotions,’ he pointed out gently, ‘not my client’s.’

‘But the children—’

‘You seem particularly sensitive to this situation. Are you this emotionally involved with every case you deal with? No wonder you’re always so tense.’

‘I’m not tense.’ She was agonisingly aware of him, of his powerful shoulders and his hard, handsome face. Why is it, she wondered desperately, that a person can still be devastatingly attractive even when they are so deficient in other more important qualities? ‘You hate women, don’t you?’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Is this my cue to say that some of my best friends are women?’

‘That’s not friendship.’

His smile was impossibly attractive. ‘Friendship means different things to different people.’

And she was in no doubt as to what it meant to him. ‘But you seem to make it your life’s work to make sure that women don’t profit from marriage.’

‘Only when the purpose of their marriage was profit. I don’t believe that marriage should be a source of income.’ His long bronzed fingers played idly with his pen and she lifted her own fingers and rubbed her forehead again. The dangerous mix of cool and charismatic was making her head spin.

‘It’s the source of your income,’ she pointed out, and his smile widened.

‘Touché.’ He glanced up as a uniformed girl sashayed down the plane with a tray of refreshments. ‘Ah—supper. Are you hungry, Lindsay?’

Her head was getting worse and to make matters worse her stomach was starting to churn. ‘Actually, no. But thank you.’ She wished once again that she hadn’t left her pills at home. This whole situation was going to be difficult enough without having to do it with a headache. ‘Perhaps this would be a good time for you to tell me something about the objective of this trip. If I’m to assist you, I’d better know something about the case.’

‘My prospective client hasn’t yet appointed legal counsel,’ Alessio purred. ‘He simply wishes to discuss his situation. I’ve agreed to listen.’

‘So he’s not even sure he wants a divorce?’

‘He knows he wants a divorce—he just hasn’t yet decided how to go about it. Or who he wants to represent him.’

‘So he might choose you.’

‘If he can afford me, he’ll choose me.’ Alessio suppressed a yawn and Lindsay shot him a bemused glance.

‘Why do you do this? You obviously don’t need the money.’

‘I enjoy the mental stimulation. I’m naturally competitive. I enjoy winning.’

‘Do you really think it’s “winning” to destroy someone’s marriage?’

‘Marriages come to me ready broken.’ His dark eyes flashed a warning. ‘And lecturing me isn’t in your job description.’

‘But has your client even tried to fix what’s wrong? Perhaps if he talks to an outsider—someone who isn’t involved—’ Lindsay broke off and winced as another shaft of pain lanced her head. Her stomach churned horribly and she sat totally still, willing it to settle.

Not now. She didn’t need this to happen now.

Alessio frowned, his eyes fixed on her face. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘Nothing at all.’ She could just imagine how a man like him would react to a woman with a migraine. Deciding that it was best to make her escape while she could, she stood up gingerly. ‘If you’ll excuse me for a moment. I need to use the bathroom.’

His eyes lingered thoughtfully on her face. ‘Last door on the left.’

Wishing he weren’t studying her quite so intently, Lindsay followed his directions and pushed open a door. Had circumstances been different she would have been amazed by the beautiful bathroom that confronted her, but as it was she felt too ill to react with anything other than relief at the prospect of privacy.

Closing the door carefully behind her, she put her hand on her stomach and took a deep breath. How long was the flight to the Caribbean? She hadn’t even asked, but without her medication she knew that she was going to be ill for all of it. And it was going to be horribly embarrassing.

Why now? Why now, when she really needed to have her wits about her?

Her head throbbed and she just wanted to lie down, but the thought of doing so in front of Alessio prevented her from returning to the cabin. Instead she sat down on a chair and leaned her head against the cool, marble wall, closing her eyes.

If only the pain would stop—

She didn’t know how long she sat there. She was in too much pain to move; so much so that when the bathroom door opened, she barely reacted.

‘Maledizione,’ a rough masculine voice cursed softly, ‘how long have you been like this? Are you ill?’

‘Migraine. I’ll be OK. Just leave me alone for a bit.’ Her eyes tightly shut against the light, Lindsay felt a firm masculine hand touch her forehead and then he muttered something under his breath in Italian.

‘I thought you were looking pale. Why didn’t you say something before?’

‘Alessio, please just go away,’ she muttered. ‘You’re difficult enough to deal with in good health. Trust me, you don’t want to be in here. I think I might be sick.’

Apparently undeterred by that warning, he scooped her easily into his arms and carried her through a door that led to a bedroom. Then he laid her gently on the enormous king-size bed. The soft pillow was cool against her cheek and it felt so wonderful to lie down that she gave a moan of gratitude.

‘Maybe you’re not all bad,’ she mumbled. ‘At this moment in time I almost like you.’

His eyes gleamed. ‘Stop talking, Lindsay. You might say something you regret.’

‘Sorry. Forgot you don’t want women to like you.’ She winced as another bolt of pain shot through her head. ‘Well, this must be a first for you. Tucking a sick woman into your bed.’

‘Do you have tablets in your bag?’ He sounded cool and efficient and her eyes drifted shut, her teeth gritted against the pain.

‘Forgot them. Packed in a hurry.’ She snuggled deeper into the pillow. ‘I didn’t even know planes came with beds. I guess it’s an essential item for a man like you.’

‘Believe it or not, I don’t use it for seduction. Being able to sleep when I need to makes me more efficient,’ he said dryly, pulling a heavy silk cover over her. ‘So—what am I going to do with you?’

The pain was agonising and she winced as a shaft of light penetrated the window. ‘You’re going to pass me my phone. I need to try calling Ruby again—’

‘Stop thinking about your sister and think about yourself for once.’ A frown in his eyes, Alessio leaned across and closed the blinds, shutting out the beams of sunlight. ‘Better?’

She never would have believed him capable of being so thoughtful. But her stomach was still churning and she was terrified that she was going to be sick over his handmade shoes. ‘I think you’d better leave now—for your sake.’

It seemed as though he was following her advice because he rose to his feet and left the room. But he returned moments later with a bowl and placed it by the bed, apparently unfazed by the situation. ‘I’m going to fetch you a doctor.’

If she’d had more energy Lindsay would have laughed. They were in mid-air, for goodness’ sake. Where was he going to find a doctor?

Perhaps he meant that he was going to talk to a doctor on the phone, but what good would that do?

The pounding in her head was unbearable, but when she heard voices next to her she gingerly opened her eyes and saw a man standing with Alessio.

With a frown, he sat down on the bed, asked her a few questions and then opened his bag.

Dimly in the back of her mind Lindsay was wondering how Alessio had managed to produce a doctor in mid-air, but her head was hurting too much to care and she was almost sobbing with gratitude as the doctor gave her medication and then left the room. Moments later, something deliciously cool was placed gently against her throbbing head.

She opened her eyes a slit and saw Alessio sitting next to her. He’d removed his tie and the sleeves of his white shirt had been rolled back to reveal strong forearms shadowed with dark hairs. As always he looked strong and capable and, surprisingly perhaps, not the slightest bit put out by her sudden illness. ‘The doctor thought this might help.’

‘Thank you. That feels wonderful. Why are you still here?’ But she felt intensely vulnerable and pathetically grateful to him for not walking out and leaving her alone. ‘I suppose your ego won’t allow a woman to claim a headache when she’s in your bed.’ Her remark made him smile.

‘Be quiet and go to sleep, Lindsay.’

‘You really are impossibly good-looking,’ she muttered as the medication started to take effect and her eyes drifted shut. ‘It’s a shame you’re such a selfish bastard.’