Dark Angel

As Luciano absorbed the look of sincere faith in her eyes, a flame of raw resentment currented through his big, powerful frame. When had she ever had that kind of trust in him? And what had Miles Linwood ever done to deserve that amount of loyalty? For days he had been patient, he had given her time to adjust, but now the anger he had been holding back was stirring. She wasn’t the only woman in the world, although the way he’d been behaving of late, anyone could’ve been forgiven for assuming that she was.

‘When did you last hear from Miles?’

‘I hear from him all the time…we’re still very close. I stayed with him when I was over in London seeing you,’ Kerry confided.

His brilliant gaze hardened. ‘I don’t want you to get in contact with him again.’

Kerry’s brows drew together. ‘But—’

‘Either you’re with me…or you’re against me,’ Luciano spelt out with chilling softness. ‘There’s no safe middle path. If you plant yourself on the Linwood side of the fence, don’t expect to have me in your life as well.’

Kerry paled. ‘Is that a threat?’

He lifted her hand and pressed his mouth into the centre of her palm before trailing it down to the tender, delicate skin of her inner wrist and making her insides melt with heat and her knees shake under her. ‘It’s whatever you want to make of it, cara mia,’ he breathed with a ragged edge to his dark drawl as he sank his other hand to her hip and eased her into contact with his long, powerful thighs. ‘Did I ever tell you that I only have to look at you to get so hard I ache?’

‘No…’ Sharp, sweet craving was rising in her like a dangerous tide. That close to him she was just a mass of jumping, sensitised nerve-endings, achingly aware of the familiar scent of his warm skin and the strength of his lean, tensile muscularity. But most of all she was aware of the virile male thrust of his erection beneath the fine wool of his trousers.

‘Tomorrow I’m leaving for London to see my legal team. I don’t know when I’ll be back here…no more games, Kerry.’ In a move as controlling as though she had been a floppy rag doll, Luciano drew her hands up to his shoulders and linked them behind his neck.

‘I haven’t been playing games…’ The temptation to plaster her weak, wanton self to every inch of him that she could reach was more than Kerry could resist. He didn’t know when he would be back? How had he contrived to grasp that nothing he could say to her could have more impact than that particular one?

With an appreciative laugh, Luciano hoisted her up, curving a strong arm below her slim hips to support her as he splayed her knees round his waist and leant back against the desk to keep her balanced. His dark golden gaze smouldered over her. ‘Prove that to me…satisfy that ache I’m suffering from now, bella mia—’

‘Here?’ Kerry queried shakily.

‘No, the door doesn’t lock…upstairs.’

‘I can’t, we can’t…there are workmen all over the place!’ Kerry protested.

Fabulous bone structure rigid, Luciano slid her down the length of his magnificent physique, unlaced her hands from round his neck and planted her back onto her own feet. ‘So?’

‘They’d guess what we were doing!’ Kerry was in an agony of guilty mortification.

She could barely credit that she was even having the conversation with him: she could not recall the moment when her ability to resist him had evaporated and she had succumbed to her own weakness. Had it been the instant she realised that Rochelle meant nothing to him? Without a doubt the sure and final knowledge that he could find her more attractive than Rochelle had played a part in destroying her defensive barriers.

‘So?’ Luciano was not in the mood to be reasonable.

‘In a country area like this, single women are expected to respect certain standards of behaviour. I’m sure you think that’s old-fashioned but then we’re not in the city and I suppose I’m not brave enough to ignore those standards and offend people and have them talk about me.’ Cheeks warm with embarrassment as she completed that speech, Kerry looked back at him with turquoise eyes that carried a sincere plea, for she had been as honest as she knew how.

Straightening to his full, commanding height, Luciano vented a sardonic laugh. ‘Dio mio…many thanks for the news that if we were married sex in the middle of the day would be acceptable!’

‘That isn’t what I meant—’

‘And that neighbourhood standards predate Noah’s ark…a discouraging announcement for a new resident. Perhaps I should be considering the very advantageous offer I’ve had for the castle.’

Kerry stilled in dismay. ‘So it’s true, you have had an offer…it’s not just something Rochelle dreamt up to upset me!’

‘Yes, it’s true, and naturally I intend to take a closer look at it. In my experience only actors in movies ask anyone to name their price to sell, and if I’m getting an open-ended offer of that magnitude I’d like to know who it’s from and why it’s coming my way—’

‘You don’t know who’s trying to buy the castle?’

‘Someone hiding behind an investment company in the Caymans. I need to find out why anyone in their right mind would be willing to pay any price to own Ballybawn—’

Kerry studied him in surprise. ‘I should think that’s obvious…someone wealthy has come out here on one of our tours and fallen in love with the castle. But you’re not seriously saying that you would think of selling…are you?’

Just half an hour earlier Luciano would have said no, but in the space of a moment the anxious look in her expressive gaze changed his mind. He entertained himself with the possibility that some rich, decrepit old guy might have visited Ballybawn and fallen madly in lust for his little redheaded blushing guide. That possibility grew less entertaining by the second when it dawned on Luciano that Kerry might well go to the highest bidder. Just how far would she go to regain the family castle? Shouldn’t he have asked himself that question before he made the crucial mistake of using Ballybawn as the ultimate bribe? That was the instant when Luciano knew that she would have to make a choice between him

and her home. Nothing less would satisfy him. She had to choose. He did not want Kerry in his bed solely because he owned her ancestral hovel…since when had he got so particular?