Anger swelled in him.
So that was what this was all about? Another charlatan pretending to be Salvatore Moncada’s secret love-child in the hope of grabbing a portion of Dante’s inheritance. What did this make? Eight or nine fraudsters since his father’s death three months ago? Or was this someone Dante’s lawyer had already sent packing but thought they would chance their luck one more time and try and convince Salvatore’s legitimate child herself?
As a means of getting his attention this woman had played a master stroke.
What a shame for her that it would end in her arrest and deportation.
‘If I had a secret sister I’m sure I would be open to sharing a portion of my father’s estate with her, but—’
‘There’s no if about it,’ she interrupted. ‘You do have a sister and I have the proof with me.’
Something in her tone cut the retort from his tongue.
Dante stared even harder at the beautiful face before him as his veins slowly turned to ice.
Did this truculently sexy woman really believe she was his...sister?
* * *
So this was Dante?
Aislin had seen many pictures of the cruel Sicilian intent on denying her sister what was morally hers but nothing could have prepared her for the sculptured reality stood before her.
In the flesh he was much taller than she’d expected, his hair thicker and darker. He had a lean, wiry muscularity she
hadn’t expected either. Nor had the pictures done justice to the rest of him. His thick, dark beard couldn’t hide the chiselled jawline or downplay the firm, sensuous lips resting below a straight nose that could have been carved by a professional sculptor. Thick black brows rested above green eyes that could only be described as beautiful, and those eyes were staring at her with a combination of disgust and disbelief.
It hadn’t escaped her attention that Dante was a good-looking man but she had not been prepared in the slightest for the raw sexiness that oozed from him.
His black shirt was unbuttoned at the neck and, while she kept her gaze fixed on his eyes, she’d glimpsed the dark hair poking through at the base of his throat.
Dante Moncada was the sexiest, most handsome man she had ever set eyes on and it thrilled with the same intensity that it repelled.
Despite the warmth she’d managed to inject into the walls from the log fire, a shiver ran up her spine, and she drew her towelling robe more tightly around her, wishing she could glue it to her body. It fell to her ankles but, with that green stare on her, she might as well have forgone it. She felt naked.
Beneath it she was naked.
It had been two days since she’d broken into this cottage. Two days she’d been living here, waiting for her presence to be noted and for the certain confrontation with this man to take place. But, seriously, did it have to occur the minute she stepped out of the shower?
So much for the cool, calm, no-nonsense first impression she’d hoped to make. In her head she’d created a scene where he stormed into the cottage and found her sitting serenely at the table studying, preferably wearing her reading glasses. Whenever Aislin wore those glasses, men tended to speak to her as if she had more than a single brain cell floating in her head.
Hearing the creak of the floorboards as Dante and his two goons had climbed the stairs had terrified her. She’d been instantly aware of the vulnerability of her position, thrown her still-wet body into the robe and wrenched the showerhead off as her only means of defence.
Dante must think he was dealing with a wailing banshee, an impression it was essential she correct immediately.
He took a step back, his left brow rising up and down. ‘You believe you are my sister?’
She jutted her chin out to hide her discomfort at her nakedness beneath the robe. ‘If you will be good enough to let me get dressed, I will explain everything. The kitchen is stocked with coffee.’
He gave a grunt of surprised laughter. ‘You break into my home and want me to make you a drink?’
‘I’m asking you to give me some privacy so I can make myself decent before we start arguing about the inheritance you are trying to keep for your greedy self. I’m simply pointing out that there is coffee if you wish to have one while you wait, and that I take mine with milk and one sugar.’
The green eyes flickered over her, taking in every inch of her body, before he blinked, gave the slightest of shudders and took another step back.
‘I will leave you to dress,’ he said curtly.
He closed the door behind him.