He gave a short laugh and stared at her, as if waiting for the punchline. ‘Seriously?’
‘All I’m asking is for somewhere temporary to stay until I can get myself settled.’
‘Is that all you’re asking?’ he echoed sarcastically.
‘I’ll pay back any expenses I run-up, I promise you that, even if it takes me the rest of my life. I just need a break, Salvatore,’ she finished, on a whisper. ‘Didn’t someone give you a break when you were starting out?’
Salvatore scowled as her words struck an unwanted chord. Yes, he’d had a break. His godfather had given him enough money to buy an airplane ticket to the New World and to feed himself until he found himself a job.
He knew there was nothing to stop him from telling her she wasn’t his problem. From jumping in his limo and roaring away without a backward glance. Her mother might be angry but she would soon get over it—she’d have to. And if the neighbours gossiped, so what? They would only gossip until the next scandal came along. Because she wasn’t his responsibility. They were both grown-ups. They’d had a one-night stand, that was all.
That was all.
He’d made her no false promises.
He owed her nothing.
Nothing.
But, unerringly, Nicolina Vitale had touched on a raw nerve for Salvatore did know how small-town gossip worked. He knew how powerful it could be. How people were quick to judge you, especially if you were a woman. If he turned his back on her now and walked away—wouldn’t that be like throwing her to the lions? And wasn’t there something about her fervour which made him think of the person he’d been all those years ago—so full of drive and ambition and hope? Was it that which made him hesitate?
‘You’ve never even been abroad and I don’t think you understand just how different Sicily and America are,’ he argued. ‘Culture shock won’t come close to it. You don’t even speak English.’
‘Yes, I do,’ she said, instantly switching to that language, admittedly with a rather pronounced Sicilian inflection.
Immediately, Salvatore did the same. ‘And just how much of it do you understand?’ he questioned imperiously. ‘Knowing how to ask the time or get directions to the nearest railway station is one thing. But if that’s your standard of fluency, you’ll be completely out of your depth.’
She tilted her chin upwards. ‘Would you like to test me, then?’ she challenged, her voice growing more heated now. ‘Do you want me to assure you that I won’t make a mistake about “flower” and “flour” and that I know the difference between “angry” and “hungry”?’
Salvatore very nearly laughed and then very nearly pulled her in his arms to kiss the truculent tremble of her lips, because her defiance seemed to have kick-started a slideshow of erotic recall which was starting to heat his blood. Suddenly he could picture her dark olive curves outlined against the white sheet. He could remember how soft she’d felt as she had eagerly opened her fleshy thighs to accommodate his thrusting body. He could recall the sweet tightness as he had broken through her hymen with what had felt like the biggest erection of his life.
‘Where did you learn to speak English like that?’ he queried unevenly.
‘I’ve always worked hard at my studies and we had a teacher in the village,’ she explained. ‘A woman from England who fell in love with a Sicilian waiter and came back to Caltarina to be with him. She made it her mission to teach all the children in her care how to speak her mother tongue. She said...’ She hesitated. ‘She said we never knew when it would come in useful.’
‘And maybe she inspired you with more than her language skills,’ he suggested silkily. ‘Did she also teach you that if all else fails, you can use a man as an escape route from a situation which no longer appeals to you?’
Lina’s heart was beating very loudly as his words sank in and she stared at him in growing disbelief. ‘Do you think...?’ Say it, she urged herself, even though it made her feel sick to articulate the insulting implications of his words. She sucked in a deep breath and the air felt hot and raw against her throat. ‘Do you really think I slept with you in order to get to America?’
‘Who knows?’ He shrugged. ‘People have done a lot worse to get themselves a Green Card.’
It occurred to Lina that maybe he didn’t think so highly of himself if he thought she’d targeted him because of that. Surely he didn’t imagine that a woman would have sex with him for any other reason than because he was irresistible. But his beliefs weren’t her problem. It didn’t matter what the billionaire thought of her. What mattered was that he gave her a seat on his plane and a temporary roof over her head. Surely that wasn’t too much to ask.
‘So will you help me, Salvatore? Will you take me to America with you?’
The pause which followed seemed to last for ever until he glanced down at his watch with the slight desperation of the condemned prisoner counting down the seconds to his own execution. ‘My jet is leaving in an hour.’ His narrowed eyes were shards of unfriendly blue ice as he lifted his gaze to her face and his words were equally cold. ‘You can stay on my estate for a few weeks, but no longer. Do you understand what I’m saying?’
‘Perfectly,’ she said, her heart racing, wondering why, suddenly, he was looking like the enemy.
‘Then get in the car,’ he snapped.
CHAPTER SIX
IT WAS A day of firsts.
Lina had never been whisked to a private airfield before, or been treated almost like royalty by everyone they came into contact with. As soon as she and Salvatore stepped from the limousine, the tycoon’s personal crew flocked around him like fireflies on a summer’s night, though she couldn’t miss their looks of surprise when they registered that she was to be his travelling companion.
Did she look out of place in her handmade dress and the sneakers she’d bought from the local market?