sun-warmed cobblestones. She could feel the heat coming up through her thinly soled high-heeled shoes. The fine misty spray of the fountain delicately pricked her face and arms like a refreshing atomiser.
‘You’ve obviously sorted those issues out,’ she said. ‘Your father adores you, and you clearly adore and respect him.’
‘He’s a good man,’ he said. ‘I’m probably more like him that I’m prepared to admit.’
She looked at the water splashing over the marble dolphins in the fountain and wondered what Angelo would think if she told him what her father was really like. Would he believe her?
Probably not, she thought with a plummeting of her spirits. Her father had got in first and swung the jury. He had done it all her life—telling everyone how incredibly difficult she was, how headstrong and wilful, how cold and ungrateful. The one time she had dared to tell a family friend about her father’s treatment of her it had backfired spectacularly. The knock-on effect on her mother had made Natalie suffer far more than any physical or verbal punishment her father could dish out.
It had silenced her ever since.
‘I guess we should get back to the guests,’ she said.
‘It will soon be time to leave,’ he said, and began walking back with her to the marquee. ‘I’d like us to get to Sorrento before midnight.’
Natalie’s stomach quivered at the thought of spending a few days alone with him at his villa. Would he expect her to sleep with him? How long would she be able to say no? She was aching for him, and had been since she had walked into his office that day. Her body tingled when she was with him. It was tingling now just from walking beside him. Every now and again her bare arm would brush against his jacket sleeve. Even through the barrier of the expensive fabric she could feel the electric energy of his body. It shot sharp arrows of awareness through her skin and straight to her core. She wanted him as she had always wanted him.
Feverishly, wantonly, urgently.
She was the moth and he was the flame that could destroy her, and yet she just couldn’t help herself. But giving herself to him physically was one thing. Opening herself to him emotionally was another. If she showed him everything that was stored away inside her what would she do if he then abandoned her?
How would she ever be able to put herself back together again?
Natalie could barely recall the journey to Sorrento in the chauffeur-driven car. She had fallen asleep before they had travelled even a couple of kilometres. She had woken just after midnight as the car drew to a halt, to find her head cradled in Angelo’s lap, his fingers idly stroking her hair.
‘We’re here,’ he said.
She sat up and pushed back her loosened hair. ‘I think I dribbled on your trousers,’ she said, grimacing in embarrassment. ‘Sorry.’
He gave her a lazy smile. ‘No problem,’ he said. ‘I enjoyed watching you.’
The villa was perched high on a clifftop, overlooking the ocean. It had spectacular views over the port of Sorrento and the colourful villages hugging the coastline. With terraced gardens and a ground area twice the size of its neighbours, the villa offered a level of privacy that was priceless. Lights twinkled from boats on the wrinkled dark blue blanket of the sea below. The balmy summer air contained the sweet, sharp scent of lemon blossom from the surrounding lemon groves, and the light breeze carried with it the faint clanging sound of the rigging on a yacht far below.
Angelo left the driver to deal with their luggage as he led Natalie inside. ‘My hotel development is much larger than this place,’ he said. ‘I’ll take you there tomorrow or the next day.’
Natalie looked around at the vaulted ceilings and the panoramic arched windows, the antique parquet and the original terracotta floors. ‘This is lovely,’ she said. ‘Have you had it long?’
‘I bought it a couple of years ago,’ he said. ‘I like the privacy here. It’s about the only place I can lock myself away from the press.’
‘I suppose it’s where you bring all your lovers to seduce them out of the spotlight?’ she said before she could check herself.
He studied her as he pulled free his loosened tie. ‘You sound jealous.’
‘Why would I be jealous?’ she asked. ‘I don’t have any hold over you. And you don’t have any hold over me.’
He picked up her left hand and held it in front of her face. ‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’ he asked. ‘We’re married now. We have a hold over each other.’
Natalie tried to get out of his grasp but his fingers tightened around hers. ‘What possible hold do I have over you?’ she asked. ‘You forced me to marry you. I didn’t have a choice. Five years ago I made the decision to walk out of your life and never see you again. I wanted to be left alone to get on with my life. But no; you had to fix things so I’d be at your mercy and under your control.’
‘Stop it, Natalie,’ he said. ‘You’re tired. I’m tired. This is not the time to discuss this.’
She tugged some more until she finally managed to break free. She stood before him, her chest heaving, her heart pounding and her self-control in tatters.
‘Don’t tell me to stop it!’ she said. ‘What hold do I have over you? You hold all the cards. I know what you’re up to, Angelo. I know how men like you think. You’ll hoodwink me into falling in love with you and then you’ll pull the rug from under my feet when I least expect it. But it won’t work because I won’t do it. I won’t fall in love with you. I won’t.’
He stood looking down at her with implacable calm. ‘Do you feel better now you’ve got all of that off your chest?’ he asked.
Goaded beyond all forbearance, she put her chin up and flashed him a challenging glare. ‘Why don’t you come and collect what you’ve bought and paid for right here and now?’ she said. ‘Come on, Angelo. I’m your little puppet now. Why don’t you come and pull on my strings?’
A muscle flickered in his jaw as his dark-as-night gaze slowly moved over her body, from her head to her feet and back again. She felt it peel her ivory gown away. She felt it scorch through her bra and knickers. She felt it burn her flesh. She felt it light an inferno between her legs.
But then a mask slipped over his features. ‘I’ll see you in the morning,’ he said. ‘I hope you sleep well. Buonanotte.’ He inclined his head in a brief nod and then turned and left.
Natalie listened to the echo of his footsteps on the terracotta floor fading into the distance until there was nothing left but the sound of her own erratic breathing …
The bedroom she’d chosen to sleep in was on the third floor of the villa. She woke after a fitful sleep to bright morning sunshine streaming in through the arched windows. She peeled back the covers and went and looked out at a view over terraced gardens. There was a sparkling blue swimming pool situated on one of the terraces, surrounded by lush green shrubbery. She could see Angelo’s lean, tanned figure carving through the water, lap after lap, deftly turning at each end like an Olympic swimmer.
She moved away from the window before he caught her spying on him and headed to the shower.
