silence that followed was awful. Felicity reeled, scarcely able to believe she had admitted the truth, least of all to Luca, and Luca in turn paled, the muscles in his face contorting in fury, his knuckles white as he dug his nails into his palms.
‘But what has all this to do with you? Why would you be…?’
‘Prepared to get engaged to him?’ Felicity finished as Luca’s voice trailed off. ‘You dare to ask why I would prostitute myself with a man like Matthew?’ She watched him flinch at her words and she enjoyed it—enjoyed watching the might that was Luca Santanno squirm. ‘Because I’m my father’s daughter. I see what needs to be done and I do it.’ When he didn’t respond she carried on, her small chin jutting defiantly, a stricken dignity in her strained voice. ‘My father isn’t the poor businessman you make out; he isn’t a gambler or a drinker who frittered his money away. My brother was dying…’ A tiny pause, a flicker of shadow darkening the gold of her eyes, the only indicator of the depth of her pain. ‘The money my father made from selling the resort bought Joseph some time.’
‘How much time?’
‘Six months. There was a treatment in America—it was never going to be a cure, but selling the resort turned a few agonising weeks into six precious months. It took him to Paris and Rome, gave us time to say all the things that needed to be said, to cram a lifetime of love into six wondrous months, and if he had his time over my father would do it all again.’
‘I still don’t understand.’
‘Death puts things into perspective, but it doesn’t stop the bills coming in.’ She was almost shouting again. ‘Your mortgage doesn’t disappear just because in the scheme of things it doesn’t really matter. My father has had to start again, now has to work for a pittance for the Santanno chain, has to watch his beloved resort dissolve into nothing. But he doesn’t complain. All my father wants is three more years of work. Three years to pay off his mortgage and get together some funds for his retirement—an honest day’s work for an honest day’s pay. But then what would the great Santanno empire know about that? All you care about is profit.’
‘You are wrong.’ Luca waved in abrupt dismissal. ‘Yes, I care about profit, I am a businessman after all, but I also care about my staff, and in turn they reward me with absolute devotion. I do not need to check up on them, breathe down their necks while they work, for I know they are giving one hundred per cent.’
‘They’re giving one hundred percent,’ Felicity snarled, ‘because they’re terrified of losing their jobs.’
‘Rubbish.’ If she’d seen him angry before then Luca was livid now, a muscle pounding in his cheek, his blue eyes blazing. ‘My staff know I look after them. I ensure their birthdays are remembered, their loyalty is rewarded. Take Rico, the man I was speaking with this morning, it is his fortieth wedding anniversary next weekend. He will be staying in this very room with his wife, receiving the same service I demand for myself…’
‘With a ten per cent staff discount,’ Felicity bit back. ‘Matthew reluctantly does the same.’
‘There will be no discount,’ Luca sneered. ‘There will be no bill at all. Rico deserves it.’
For a moment she didn’t respond, absorbing his words, his vehement denial confusing her. He certainly didn’t sound like a man who mistreated his staff, didn’t sound like the ogre she had envisaged. Her initial abhorrence was shifting. The layers of the onion peeled back were revealing a man far removed from the malicious man she had built up in her mind. But suspicion still abounded. The simple facts spoke for themselves—she had seen first-hand the devastation his leadership caused.
‘This is Matthew’s fault.’ His voice was calmer now, but she could hear the hatred behind it, hear the venom behind each word. But his anger at Matthew brought only cold comfort; twelve months of pain were not eradicated that easily. ‘I would never treat my staff like that.’
‘But you have!’ Livid eyes glared at him. ‘Don’t you understand, Luca, that you’ve done just that? Matthew may just be your partner—or manager, or co-owner, or whatever it is he calls himself—but it’s your name on the headed paper, your signature on the cheques. You’re the one destroying my father!’
‘Sei pazza!’ His expletive needed no translation. The hands that had been clenched grabbed at her wrists, pulling her towards him, but the fury she had unleashed didn’t scare her, if anything it empowered her. She let her words sink in, gathered her shaking thoughts and took a deep cleansing breath before she continued, her voice calmer now, but still filled with unbridled hatred.
‘Matthew has been blackmailing me.’ She felt the hands around her wrists tighten, saw the fury burning in his eyes as she continued in low, steady tones, lacing each word with the contempt it deserved. ‘He won’t just sack my father; he’ll destroy him in the process. He’s made it very clear to me that he’ll accuse my father of embezzlement if things don’t go according to his sordid plans. He’s already ruined my father’s career, and now it would seem he’s happy to trash my father’s reputation if it will further his cause.’
‘Which is?’
The hands weren’t just tight around her wrists now, they were like two steel vices, and Felicity wriggled them free.
‘Matthew considers it his divine right to have a pretty blonde wife on his arm.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘And if that sounds conceited I make no apology.’
‘It is the truth,’ he said simply, his mind temporarily leaving the devastating news she had just imparted and focusing instead on the attractive woman in front of him. ‘You make it sound like a curse to be beautiful.’
‘I never said I was beautiful,’ Felicity corrected matter-of-factly. ‘But, yes, looking like a fragile teenager can have its disadvantages, both on the professional and private front.’ She stared at him boldly, her back rigid, her eyes defiant. ‘Would you take me seriously in the boardroom, Mr Santanno?’
Her question clearly confused him, but he answered her promptly. ‘I am not sexist. If your point was valid of course I would listen.’
He almost sounded as if he meant it, but Felicity tried and failed to bite back a scornful laugh.
‘You contradict yourself, Felice.’ Luca responded. ‘You demand to be taken seriously, despite your stunning looks, while on the other hand you are prepared to get engaged to a man who wants you only for a trophy. It doesn’t make sense.’
‘I thought I could do it.’ The scorn was gone from her voice. The directness of his observation was as loud as her own conscience. ‘I really thought I could treat this arrangement as a business deal.’
‘But in the end you couldn’t go through with it.’ It was a statement, not a question, but still she gave a tired nod.
‘I’m not a romantic, Luca. I don’t believe in the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I don’t think there’s a soul mate out there, waiting in the wings for me. Marrying Matthew wasn’t saying goodbye to some long-held cherished dream; it was a means to an end, a solution to a problem.’
‘For someone so young you have a very jaded view of marriage.’ He shook his head in bemusement. ‘What if he had wanted children? What if he—?’
‘No!’ She shook her head vehemently. ‘I would never have given him a baby.’
‘How
