his guts melt at the sight of the woman? Had Anna’s blistering scorn turned him into a masochist? Or a pervert? Was he really aroused by a woman who despised him? He scowled. He just wanted to be normal. To fall in love. Have kids.
‘I think that’s Anna,’ he said, managing to find a clipped tone.
‘Oh. Well, if you’re going to give her a tongue-lashing, make it quick.’
Camilla looked at him fondly and touched his arm. It took all his will-power not to push her hand away and he was appalled by his irrational response to her affectionate gesture.
‘I just want a word or two,’ he pushed out.
With difficulty he conquered the evil little voice in his head that told him he wanted a devil of a lot more than that. Seeing Anna had kick-started his dormant libido into life. And how! Every bone he possessed ached to have Anna sighing beneath him. For that fabulous body to be arching with pleasure.
His eyes blazed with an intense anger as he sought to crush the sexual hunger that had hit him like a hammer blow. Common sense told him that his emotional wires had become crossed. It was said that you never forgot your first love and, hell, was that true with him.
This was the spiteful little cat who’d called him promiscuous and asked coldly if he intended to infect every female in the county with some sexual disease. She’d hurled insults at him till he’d reeled. And had deliberately made him into a criminal in everyone’s eyes. Maledizione!
With his malevolent gaze on her, his body fired with lust and loathing, he made himself saunter slowly to the picket fence. Oblivious of him, she continued to weed the handkerchief-sized front garden.
After a moment she straightened, still with her back to him. His stomach cramped. Her figure was even more womanly than before. Long, slender legs, tanned to a soft gold, the skin gleaming and flawless. Curvy hips. Tiny rear squashed temptingly in a pair of too-tight shorts that defined each buttock. Neat waist…
All too vividly he remembered being teased by his amused friends who’d suggested he put a bag over her head so he could enjoy the rest of her admittedly great body.
But because of her reserve, she had never let him anywhere near those proud, high breasts. The sublime length of those smooth legs had never wrapped around him seductively, as they had in his wild dreams.
Impatiently he struggled to master his destructive passions. His priority was to deal with the cloud that was hanging over the Pascali name. She was living yards from where he meant to set up his business. That could mean trouble. If word got around that his character was suspect, it would seriously affect his business. She could do a great deal of harm with her wicked little tongue.
The liquid sound of birdsong filled the air. He could feel the atmosphere thickening as his simmering hatred continued to pour out in her direction.
After a moment his aggression imprinted itself on her. He wasn’t surprised. His loathing could have pulverised a tank.
Stiffening, she turned around warily. Her response was all that he could have wanted.
‘Vido!’ she gasped in horror.
Stunned at seeing him, she shrank back, thrown almost off balance by the sheer physical threat that emanated from his angry body. And something else even more devastating. He was projecting a raw and primitive sexuality that slammed into her gut and left her weak and breathless.
But it meant nothing. He’d always been testosterone on legs. A highly sexed male who treated women as objects for his pleasure. Her fear turned to scorn and the fine bones of her face grew taut with contempt.
Shock went through him too in violent waves, though for a different reason entirely. Expert plastic surgery had transformed her face and now she looked heart-stoppingly beautiful. All he wanted to do was to gaze at her as if he were still a lovesick fool, until the dizziness in his head subsided.
Her skin glowed with a healthy tan, her huge grey eyes sparkled. A blast of heat shot through him. A delicious feeling and one he’d forgotten.
And then her hand covered her nose as it always had whenever anyone had looked at her. His heart jerked. The gesture made him feel profoundly protective of her again, all the old sympathies crowding in on him in a swell of compassion. Grimly he reminded himself that they were wasted on her.
Once he’d believed that she’d been a poor little rich girl with no one to love her. With her parents dead and her grandfather showing her no affection, he’d felt anger on her behalf. But not for long.
His lip curled. It had been her unlovable temperament that had left her bereft of friends. She’d inherited her grandfather’s cold and unfeeling nature; his hatred of his fellow man—and woman. He scowled. Whatever physical alterations Anna had made on the outside, she wouldn’t have changed her malicious inner nature.
‘Anna,’ he said, his voice harsh with dislike. ‘What a surprise.’
She gulped visibly and couldn’t find anything witty or pithy to say. ‘Yes.’
Vido folded his arms, adopting a dominant pose. Anna found it hard not to be intimidated. Harder still to ignore the fizz of excitement that had ripped through her in response to the simmering darkness of his hot, assessing eyes. But she couldn’t prevent the worrying throb of pulses in a place she’d believed to be immune to stimulation.
It was the memories, of course. Good and bad. But why was she only recalling the good moments they’d shared? Holding hands, the laughter and companionship that had transformed her lonely life, the precious, stolen kisses…
Sternly she made herself remember the humiliation that had torn at her like a ravening tiger. When she’d realised that she was just a potential source of income to him, it had felt as if he’d crushed her vulnerable heart in his fist.
In the tense silence, she studied him warily, waiting for him to speak. His hair was a paler gold than before and beautifully cut. He looked more Italian than ever, perhaps because of the stylish linen suit and air of prosperity. His clothes seemed to murmur ‘expensive’ and ‘classy’ in hushed and reverential tones.
And yes, he was still the same as in her restless dreams. As beautiful as a young Roman god, the same golden male with that extraordinary combination of fair hair and dark, soulful eyes with their curtains of black lashes. But now there was a new air of menace about him that made her tremble.
Nervously she remembered his fury when they’d parted. It would be wise to heed her grandfather’s warning about Vido’s twisted, criminal mind. Her heart began to thump in time with her deep pulses.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked coolly.
‘Travelling to London,’ he drawled.
Relief washed in waves through to her very bones. This was a chance meeting, then. For one awful moment, she’d been afraid that he’d returned to Shottery in order to plague her life!
Following the arrogant jerk of his honey-haired head, she saw a stunning blonde in a wickedly gleaming silver car, its lines almost as voluptuous as those of the woman inside it. The blonde gave a rather mocking smile, which unsettled her, and by force of habit she immediately retreated into her shell of cold reserve.
‘I suggest you keep going. Your friend is waiting,’
