this century women have as much say in who they marry as men. And I didn’t want to marry you.’
Shards of ice rayed out from his frozen glare.
‘You thought I was eager to wed you?’ His accent thickened, the only sign of emotion as he stood ramrod-straight. ‘You think I delighted in the prospect of marrying a Mangano? That I wanted a bride of that tainted blood? A spoiled, irresponsible troublemaker who…’ He reined in the thread of vitriolic accusation, his mouth flattening in a hard line of contempt.
‘You know why I countenanced the match. It had nothing to do with desire for such a wife as you.’
That put her in her place! Alissa felt at a complete disadvantage, bedraggled and shivery, bruised by the sheer force of his personality. She dragged in a breath and slid clammy palms down her damp skirt, searching for a poise she was far from feeling.
‘No, you wanted the Sicilian estate I’d bring as dowry. A crumbling castle and overgrown vineyards.’ It was unbelievable that he set such store in stones, mortar and soil. Enough to agree to an arranged marriage to a woman he’d never met. Enough to collaborate with Gianfranco Mangano, the man he abhorred.
Dario Parisi was a tycoon with more wealth than he could spend in a lifetime, and still he wanted more. Her grandfather had been the same. They’d vied for the same property, using it and her to further their bitter feud.
His nostrils pinched and his jaw tightened till his neck corded with tension. Those were the only indicators of his struggle to restrain his fury. His face remained impassive, his gaze unreadable.
He obviously had a right royal temper, yet he knew how to control it. If it had been the old man, he’d have lashed out by now, incensed at her for standing up to him.
‘I can’t believe you bought Jason off.’ She paced away from him, needing distance from his imposing presence. ‘It must have cost you.’
‘Your boyfriend is easily tempted.’ Dario’s gaze didn’t leave her face, yet she had the uncomfortable feeling his attention trawled over her. Heat rose in her throat and she turned to pace again, avoiding that skewering stare.
‘Obviously Mr Donnelly didn’t feel your…charms were enough to entice him to go through with the deal.’
Her charms! Didn’t he realise Jason was gay? But then Jason didn’t wear his sexuality on his sleeve.
‘You came all the way from Sicily just to stop my marriage?’ She paused to shaft a glance at him. ‘You must hate the Manganos very much.’ The shudder ricocheting through her had nothing to do with her wet clothes.
He shrugged, and this time the movement was anything but insouciant. ‘Your family stole from mine. Cheated mine. Deprived me of my birthright, thieving not only my family’s home but also the opportunities that should have been mine. Did you ever think of that as you enjoyed your comfortable life? Did you spare a thought for those whose misfortunes laid the foundations for your luxurious lifestyle?’
Fury radiated from his glittering eyes, the steel-grey of a drawn sword. His posture was aggressive, like that of a man poised to destroy.
Alissa opened her mouth to tell him her life hadn’t been one of luxury, but of punishment and fear. Yet he wouldn’t believe her. He’d seen her grandfather’s home, the grandest in that district of Victoria. He’d believe what he wanted to believe.
Just as the local townspeople had found it convenient to believe Gianfranco was a devoted old man who lavished care and luxury on his granddaughters. Far easier than facing the truth, that the pillar of society was a miserly sadist who spent a small fortune entertaining dignitaries to build his prestige but who thought nothing of sentencing his granddaughters to a week of bread and water for the slightest disobedience.
‘Well? Nothing to say?’
She looked up into heavily lidded eyes, ignoring the flutter of tension in her stomach as she met his scathing glare. It wasn’t her fault Dario Parisi was caught up in the destructive vendetta between their families.
‘I’m not responsible for my grandfather’s actions.’
‘So you admit he did wrong?’
Alissa’s lips firmed at the recollection of Gianfranco’s crimes. The memories were so vivid she found her hands clasped together, white-knuckled and shaking.
Carefully she unknotted her fingers and let her hands fall. The past was the past. It was that knowledge which had enabled her to turn her life around, hers and Donna’s.
‘He did many things that were wrong. Perhaps now he’s paying for them.’ He’d been frightened enough by the looming prospect of death to leave his estate to the church, trying to atone for a lifetime of sins. All except the Sicilian property. He’d used that to try manipulating her one last time.
‘Don’t expect me to shoulder his guilt.’ She stared back boldly, refusing to be intimidated. After what she’d survived a tongue-lashing was nothing. More important was the vital question of how to meet the terms of the will and get the inheritance she so desperately needed.
‘Can I help you?’ A disapproving voice made Alissa spin round. A woman in a navy suit glared at them from an open doorway. Alissa opened her mouth to apologise for intruding but Dario forestalled her.
‘Chiedo scusa. We shouldn’t be here, I know.’ He lifted his shoulders and spread his open hands and smiled.
Even from where Alissa stood to one side, that smile was spectacular. It transformed his face from censorious and autocratic to warm, attractive and, she hated to admit it, downright sexy.
She blinked but the metamorphosis remained in place. He looked a completely different man. If she hadn’t known what sort of guy Dario Parisi was she’d have thought him stunning. Even his eyes sparkled with charming, rueful apology. And that smile…
He was more dangerous than she’d thought!
The sheer force of his personality and his absolute determination to get what he wanted made him formidable enough. But with a charm that made even Alissa’s pulse quicken? Definitely a man to beware.
The office worker didn’t think so. Her frown melted and a smile hovered on her prim mouth as she heard his glib explanation, liberally peppered with Italian phrases. Cynically Alissa wondered if they were a deliberate part of the charming-Mediterranean-male persona he’d adopted.
It was only when he used the words ‘my fiancée’ and stepped close that she focused on the content of his spiel. She jerked out of reach as he explained how he and his fiancée needed privacy to discuss a personal matter.
Alissa glared, but her anger only corroborated the implication they’d had a lovers’ tiff. Before she could set the record straight the other woman was actually apologising that she couldn’t let them use her office as she had urgent work to do.
Unbelievable!
‘No, no, you mustn’t apologise. We have intruded here long enough.’ He turned to Alissa. ‘Come, cara.’
Alissa nodded at the now beaming woman and walked stiff-legged from the room, speeding up when she felt the proprietorial warmth of his
