but I felt your body react to mine. You still want me just as much as I still want you.’
Gisele hated that he knew her body so well that he could read its most subtle of signals. What hope did she have of coming out of this with her pride intact? ‘I want another day or two to think it over,’ she said. ‘And if I agree, I won’t accept less than two million.’
‘I can see why you have done so well for yourself in the time we’ve been apart,’ Emilio said musingly. ‘You drive a hard bargain. Two million is a lot of money.’
‘I have a lot of hate,’ she shot back.
‘I will look forward to dismantling it,’ he said.
Gisele felt her insides clench with unruly desire. ‘You haven’t got a hope, Emilio,’ she said. ‘You can pay all you like for my body but you will never have my heart.’
‘Your body will do for now,’ he said with smouldering intensity. ‘I will send a car for you on Friday evening. Pack your passport and some clothes if it is a yes.’ And with that the phone line went dead.
As Emilio’s driver pulled up in front of her block of flats Gisele told herself she was saying yes for one reason and one reason only. She wanted to make Emilio’s life as miserable as she could for the next month. She would enjoy every minute of making him regret the way he had treated her. He would not find her such an easy conquest this time around. She was not the sweet, shy, rather naive virgin he had met and swept off her feet two years ago. She was older and wiser, harder and more cynical. More battle scarred and dangerously, scarily angry.
Also, being in Europe for a month might give her the opportunity to get to know the sister she had never met until a couple of weeks ago. Sienna was currently living in London, which was a whole lot closer to Rome than Sydney.
Gisele felt her chest tighten as she thought of all the lost years, all the lost confidences and closeness she and Sienna should have had together. Selfish adults who had not stopped to think of the long-term consequences of such a reckless and self-serving deception had stolen it from them.
She was still coming to terms with the heartbreak of finding out the truth. It wasn’t just about the sex tape scandal mix-up, although that was heartbreaking enough. She felt her whole life had been a lie. She didn’t know who she was any more. It was as if Gisele Carter, the Sydney born and bred only child of Richard and Hilary Carter, had suddenly vanished, vaporised into thin air.
Who was she now?
She was not her mother’s daughter. And yet she was not her biological mother’s daughter either as she had never felt her mother’s arms or ever felt the brush of her lips on her skin, or if she had in those first early days after birth she had no memory of it now.
She had been handed over like a package, a one-way delivery, never to be returned to sender. How had her mother, Nell Baker, chosen which baby to keep and which one to give away? Had she done it willingly or had she done it for the money?
A little dagger of guilt pierced Gisele as she thought of what she had led Emilio to believe she would do for money. He thought he could pay any amount to have her back in his life and back in his bed but he was in for a big surprise. She gave a grimly determined smile as she pressed down on the suitcase to snap the locks closed. Once the month was up Emilio would be just as glad to see the back of her as he had been the last time.
She would make sure of it.
Emilio was waiting in the hotel bar when Gisele came. He felt the jolt of awareness hit him like a punch to his abdomen. He had met hundreds of beautiful women but no one had that powerful physical effect on him just by walking into the room. And yet she hardly seemed to be aware of how every male head turned and looked at her.
Her simple but elegant cream dress was nipped in at the waist with a black bow at the front that drew attention to how slim she was. He suspected he could now span her waist with his hands. Her silver-blonde hair was pulled back in a smooth knot at the back of her head, showcasing the swanlike grace of her neck. She was wearing make-up but it was so skilfully applied it looked entirely natural. She had subtly highlighted the grey-blue of her eyes with eyeliner and a brush of smoky eyeshadow, and her lush lips were shiny with pink-tinted lipgloss. It made him want to lean down and press his lips to hers to see if she still tasted the same. He could smell her perfume, her signature summery honeysuckle scent that had clung to his skin for hours after making love with her. He had missed that fragrance. It never smelled quite the same on anyone else.
He stood to greet her, and even though she was wearing shiny patent black killer heels he still towered over her. ‘Did you bring your passport?’ he asked.
She gave him a churlish look from beneath her lashes. ‘I almost didn’t, but the thought of two million reasons why I should made me see reason.’
Emilio allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction. She was here under duress but at least she was here. He led her to a quiet corner in the bar with a gentle hand at her elbow. He felt her bare skin shiver in response to his touch and an arrow of need staked him in his groin. Her skin was so soft and creamy, like silk against his fingers. ‘What would you like to drink?’ he asked. ‘Champagne?’
She shook her head. ‘I’m not celebrating anything,’ she said, shooting him another look. ‘White wine will do.’
Emilio ordered their drinks and, once they had been served, he leaned back in his seat to study her icemaiden features. He knew he deserved her ire. He had thrown her out of his life with a callous and ruthless disregard for her feelings. He had been so convinced she had betrayed him. The red mist of anger he had felt had blinded him to anything but what he believed she had done. The image of her with that man taunted him and had done so until he had found out about the discovery of her identical twin.
Seeing her in the flesh again had brought back all the reasons he had wanted to marry her in the first place. It wasn’t just her natural beauty or grace or poise. It wasn’t just her softly spoken voice and the way she nibbled at her bottom lip when she was feeling uncertain, or the way she sometimes twirled a loose strand of hair around one of her fingers when she was concentrating on something. It was something in her eyes, those incredible were-they-grey-were-they-blue eyes that had warmed and softened the first time she’d looked at him. What man didn’t want the woman he had chosen to be his wife to look at him like that?
As far as he had been concerned, Gisele had been perfect wife material, sweet and gentle, biddable and loving. The fact that he hadn’t been in love with her was irrelevant. For his whole life love had been an emotion he had never been able to rely on. In his experience, people used the words so freely but their actions rarely backed them up. The sex tape scandal had reinforced to him how pointless it was to love someone, for people always let you down. But in the end he had been the one to let her down. He had destroyed her love with his lack of trust in her. But he was determined to get her back. He would make it up to her in a thousand different ways. He couldn’t allow a failure like this to blot his life. It felt like a giant ink stain on his soul. He had made the error and it was up to him to do whatever it took to fix it.
And he would do whatever it took.
He knew she still wanted him. He had seen it that first day in her shop, the way her body spoke to him in its own private language. His own intensely visceral response to her had sideswiped him. He had thought he had put his desire for her behind him, but it was back with a vengeance as soon as he had laid eyes on her. It was an aching, pulsing need to feel her in his arms again. He couldn’t wait to take her upstairs and prove to her they still had a future,
