A Sicilian Seduction

To her surprise, he smiled, albeit grimly. ‘I was ten years old when Edward married Alegra. Two years later Marco arrived. We were more like brothers than uncle and nephew. When he died last year, we all—went to pieces a little. I have not been back to Sicily since he died there, for instance. Alegra sank deep inside herself, while Edward…’ he paused, seemed about to say something else, then, on a short sigh, changed his mind ‘…Edward found his own means of escape,’ he clipped out. ‘Which is why this place has been left to stagnate over the last year. But now it’s time to do something about it,’ he added on a firmer, brisker note. ‘So we will begin by getting in my team of experts to knock his staff into shape while Edward himself devotes some long-overdue time to patching up his ailing marriage.’

Why it seemed as though he had turned that last comment into a threat, Natalia didn’t understand. But as for the rest of it—oh, she understood it all far more than he would ever know. Marco had been visiting Giancarlo in Sicily when the tragic accident had happened. Young, reckless and with his whole life ahead of him, Marco had taken Giancarlo’s Ferrari out without permission, lost control of the powerful machine, and crashed it, killing himself as he’d done so.

Those of his family left behind were inconsolable. Directly after the funeral in Sicily, Giancarlo had flown off the island and disappeared for weeks somewhere no one could find him. Alegra had gone into deep mourning. No one had been able to get near her. She’d spent hours in Marco’s bedroom here in London. It had become a shrine, Edward told her once. A sad, torturous, sacred shrine.

And Edward? Well, Edward’s story was equally as sad though not quite as wretched as the others. Because he’d found her, Natalia admitted. In her he’d found a link with his son and someone into whom he could divert all that painful love he had festering inside him.

‘He doesn’t even have a picture of Marco in here,’ Giancarlo grated, with a contempt aimed at Edward that hid a lot of his own pain, Natalia suspected.

‘It’s in the safe,’ she said. ‘He couldn’t bear to look at it, so he put it away…’

The safe, Giancarlo repeated bitterly to himself. What else had Edward got hidden in his damned safe that he didn’t want him to look at? Pictures of his wife in happier times? Pictures of his lovely mistress who’d helped him to live again while the rest of them still floundered in guilt and misery?

The phone began to ring. It was a relief to have something to take his mind off the black anger suddenly consuming him. To hell with Natalia Deyton, he decided as he snatched up the receiver. To hell with his seduction plan! He’d had enough. She was out.

And as soon as this call was over. He never wanted to set eyes on Edward’s mistress

again if he could help it!

It was his second in command calling from Milan, wanting to know what he was supposed to do with Howard Fiske when he arrived. As he began biting out orders, Natalia turned as if to leave him to it.

‘Stay,’ he growled.

She stopped, then turned her head to look at him questioningly over her shoulder. The eyes were sad, the blue irises darkened mirrors that reflected the distress of what they had been discussing.

Had Edward received that same look when he’d opened up his grief to Natalia Deyton? If he had then it was no wonder he’d used her as his escape from misery, Giancarlo decided. Because he could feel himself being drawn towards the same exquisite means of escape.

For vengeance, he added, recalling why all of this had started. Vengeance for putting at risk what was left of his sister’s broken heart, by seducing her husband. Well, an eye for an eye—the Sicilian way, he reminded himself. Or, in this case, seduction for seduction. It was so very appropriate…

The game was back on. He suddenly felt better, and sat down in the chair to begin a more lazily sarcastic conversation with his caller, while casually waving Natalia into the other chair.

She didn’t comply. He wasn’t surprised. He had seen by her body language, from the moment he’d walked in this morning, that she had decided to take him on.

He liked the idea of that. It added spice to the chase and gave his mood another lift that did wonders for his testosterone levels. And he even set himself a rather titillating deadline, which involved him tasting her lovely mouth before the day was over.

‘Right, that’s it,’ he said, switching from Italian to English the moment he put down the phone. ‘All the arrangements are confirmed. My people will be here by late afternoon. What I need from you now is a tour of all departments, so I can make the initial assessment on what they are going to be required to do.’

‘I still don’t think this is right without Edward’s agreement,’ Natalia informed him.

‘Your protest has been noted,’ he coolly acknowledged, and glanced at his watch before coming to his feet. ‘Time to move,’ he announced. ‘We have a lot to get through before we stop for lunch. Then we should, with a bit of luck, have some new premises to look over this afternoon.’

‘We?’ Natalia prompted. ‘What has your choice in new premises got to do with me?’

‘Since you will be relocating right along with me—’ he shrugged ‘—I automatically assumed you would like to look your new workplace over.’

But Natalia didn’t want to relocate with him! In fact the very suggestion filled her with utter dismay! ‘But my job is here!’ she protested. ‘I am needed here! Edward—’

‘Your job, Miss Deyton,’ he cut in coldly, ‘is wherever or whatever I decide it is. And why do I get the impression that you suspect my every move is designed to actually harm this company?’ he added grimly.

When he put it like that she began to feel rather stupid, because he was right and she did suspect him of—something, though she had to confess she didn’t know what that something was.

‘I’m sorry,’ she sighed, making a climb-down she knew she really had no choice about. ‘But you’ve been here for less than twenty-four hours and already you’re planning to turn the place upside down!’

‘Upside down is better than the way it stands at present,’ he returned with contempt, then released a sigh of his own because her climb-down had made him realise that his confrontational stance was not helping his cause. ‘Listen,’ he said, aiming for a more conciliatory tone. ‘Allowing me to turn this business around while Edward is safely out of the way where he can’t worry is doing him a favour, believe me. And to make it work in the short time allowed, I need you to work with me, not against me. Is that too much to ask—for Edward’s sake—?’

Her stubborn stance was faltering. He could see it happening in the frown that clouded her face. ‘Okay,’ she said heavily. ‘What is it you need me to do?’

With a surrender like that, he didn’t hesitate in consolidating it. ‘I need someone I can trust working alongside me, and, since Edward clearly trusts you, then you have to be my obvious choice,’ he explained, watching his carefully chosen words work their expected magic.