Her breath came in choppy little bursts and Donato knew he’d already succeeded in distracting her. He was tempted to stride across the space separating them and tug the dress away. Give in one last time to temptation, before reality intervened.
‘You can’t just tell me there’s going to be a wedding then waltz off like that. According to my father’s note the date’s set for a few weeks from now! He must have sent out invitations, booked caterers, the whole lot! I have to get him to cancel. This has gone on long enough.’
‘You’re right. It has.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ELLA LOOKED INTO Donato’s stern face and cold shivered down her spine. Cold on the outside, overheated on the inside, she felt a wave of fear.
Donato had retreated behind that old stonewalling expression she hated. She hadn’t seen it in ages and it filled her with dread.
‘Why don’t you want me to tell him there’s no wedding? Surely this game of yours is over.’ He’d even agreed to ensure Rob got his money back.
Donato stiffened, his jaw hardening. Before her eyes he turned into the man she’d met at her father’s party.
No, not him. Then at least, despite his air of superiority, there’d been heat in his gaze and a flash of humour, even if it had been at her expense.
The man she surveyed looked dead on the inside. Ella swallowed and tasted ashes on her tongue.
‘Donato, what’s going on? You’re frightening me.’ Once she’d never have admitted it. But that was when he’d been her enemy. Now he was so much more.
‘Why don’t you get changed? We’ll talk then.’ He glanced across to the drinks trolley that he so rarely touched and Ella’s heart dived. The truth was so bad he needed alcohol to deal with it?
‘I prefer to talk now.’
‘But your dress.’ He gestured and she realised the bodice had sagged to the point of indecency.
Backing to a sofa, Ella subsided with a puff of satin skirts. ‘That can wait. I want to know. Now.’ The need to understand had become urgent. She’d told herself she didn’t want to know about his business with her father, so long as her siblings were okay. She’d been a coward, sticking her head in the sand.
‘You’ve been keeping something from me, haven’t you?’ She’d known it from the first but hadn’t pushed. She’d been too caught up in dealing with her own feelings. Too busy enjoying her time with Donato.
Ella drew a fortifying breath and spread her fingers over the plush sofa. ‘Come and tell me about it.’
Instantly his head reared back in rejection.
It was an instinctive movement, too quick to be deliberate, and it cut her to the core, as if he’d taken a blade to her heart.
Ella stiffened. She’d known this dress would bring bad luck. Oh, who was she fooling? This had nothing to do with the dress. Hadn’t she known their relationship was on borrowed time? The mighty Donato Salazar with ordinary old Ella Sanderson!
‘Just tell me, Donato! I can’t stand the suspense.’
His gaze slewed to the drinks trolley then away. He ripped open a button on his shirt, shoving his palm under the collar and around the back of his neck. It was a sign of stress she’d never witnessed in him. Donato Salazar ruled his world, doing what he pleased. The idea of him stressed dried Ella’s mouth.
‘If you insist.’ His tone was gravel. ‘It’s almost done anyway.’
‘What’s almost done?’ Foreboding snaked through her.
‘Your father’s destruction.’ Donato’s gaze met hers. Those deep-set eyes looked more black than indigo. And cold. So cold Ella huddled against the cushions.
‘Destruction?’ The word wobbled on her tongue as her brain seized. ‘No! You can’t mean...’ She didn’t believe it. Donato wasn’t a violent man. Not any more. Passionate, yes. Strong-willed. But not violent. He’d learned from his past.
She snatched a quick breath, trying to slow her racing pulse.
‘What have you done to him?’ She met Donato’s terrible blank look.
‘I’ve arranged his just deserts.’
‘Go on.’
‘I’ve ruined him.’
Ella slumped back, one palm to her thudding heart. She’d known Donato wouldn’t have harmed her father physically, yet relief pounded. Relief, she realised, as much for Donato as for her father.