Dark Angel

Her imaginative older sisters had tried to persuade her that Luciano was out for revenge. But Kerry believed that that suggestion was nonsensical. Understandably, her siblings felt very protective towards the grandparents they had yet to meet. It was not surprising either that her sisters preferred to blame Luciano entirely for the old couple’s present predicament. But to be fair, what businessman did not insist on collecting his debts? Nor could it be deemed Luciano’s fault that her grandfather, in ignoring all efforts to find an earlier solution to his indebtedness, had acted as his own worst enemy.

Indeed, in Kerry’s opinion, a male willing to go to great expense to transform Ballybawn into a comfortable home for an elderly couple who could never repay his generosity could hardly be suspected of possessing a vengeful nature. Luciano’s refusal to confirm that he would retain ownership of the castle did not change her mind on that score either. How could she fault him for demanding that she choose between him and the estate? That she put him first? Wasn’t that natural? Of course he didn’t want to think that she might choose to be with him solely because he owned Ballybawn!

Yet only a few days ago, Luciano had not seemed to care what might motivate her. That he had moved on from that point to demand more from her was encouraging, that he had discovered that he had scruples whether he wanted them or not was even better, Kerry told herself with determination. And on this occasion she could be there for him, this time she was in a position to put him first and her family second and prove her trust. This time she would dare to be different and break the mould!

‘Have I misjudged you?’ Costanza asked with a searching look when she collected Kerry from the reception area of da Valenza Technology. ‘Or have you finally worked out that it’s safer to be on the winning team?’

In the act of entering Luciano’s office, Kerry paused. ‘I’ll leave you to make up your own mind about that.’

As the elegant brunette spread the door wide, Kerry clashed with Luciano’s intent gaze: bold, beautiful golden eyes set between black spiky lashes, framed by a lean, bronzed masculine face with features as pure and perfect in symmetry as those of a dark angel. A dark angel of the fallen variety, for it wasn’t possible, it had never been possible, to look at Luciano and not react to the sinful sizzle of his sex appeal.

Now she no longer even tried to pretend that she could be impervious. In response to the hard look of challenge he angled at her, her entire body tingled and her heart pounded and an unholy charge of excitement raced through her slight, taut frame. It shouldn’t have been that way and she was ashamed that it was but she was finally accepting that loving Luciano roused certain instincts in her that she could not fight. She loved him and she wanted to be with him and she could not stand back and do nothing when his interests were in jeopardy.

Luciano surveyed Kerry with cloaked eyes that concealed the raw satisfaction charging him with an adrenalin high. She had changed her mind. She was coming to Italy, he just knew she was coming to Italy with him and that he had won. Costanza might have been taken in by the excuse that Kerry had miraculous access to the identity of the secretive party eager to buy the castle but he had not been fooled.

‘I’m sure you’ll remember reading that solicitor’s letter asking about my mother. I replied to it.’ Kerry drew in a sharp, short breath before continuing. ‘Well, the solicitor contacted me and confirmed that Mum was dead but he—’

‘I’m sorry,’ Luciano drawled with roughened sincerity.

‘It wasn’t a surprise,’ Kerry sighed. ‘But the solicitor also informed me that my mother’s marriage to my father was her second. When she was barely out of her teens, she had married another man and she had three other children. I have half-sisters, and at their request I came to London to meet them today.’

His winged dark brows had drawn together. ‘Why didn’t you tell me all this before I left the castle?’

‘Because I didn’t know anything about my sisters and I wasn’t ready to talk about them…I think I didn’t quite believe in their existence until I saw them in the flesh this afternoon.’

‘Three more older versions of you,’ Luciano mused.

‘We don’t look much alike, as we have three different fathers between us. I suppose you’re wondering why I’m taking up your time telling you about this—’

‘No.’ Luciano took it for granted that she would come to him to tell him about any major event in her life and, if anything, he was annoyed that she had kept that information from him while he was still in Ireland.

‘My sisters threatened you—’

‘Threatened me? How?’ Luciano rested back against his desk so that he towered over her a little less and his sculpted mouth quirked. Her sisters had threatened him? He almost laughed out loud. What the heck was she talking about? Yet there was something touching about the genuine concern that had tensed the delicate lines of her triangular face.

‘I’m afraid that they’re very annoyed about our grandparents having been forced to move out of the castle and from what I can work out they’re rich enough to cause trouble for you—’

‘In terms of probability, I would consider that unlikely, cara.’

Recognising that he was not taking her warning seriously, Kerry named her siblings. At the sound of the name Andracchi, Luciano began to frown in recognition. When she mentioned the fact that her eldest sister was reputedly the wife of an oil-rich eastern prince, Luciano straightened and threw back his wide shoulders. ‘You can’t be serious. Dio mio, are you trying to tell me that your three sisters are—?’

‘And Ione…the youngest next to me—’

‘Is called Christoulakis. She’s the Greek heiress who married Alexio Christoulakis. Santo cielo…you must have heard of the three of them before!’ All Luciano’s relaxation and amusement had come to an abrupt end. ‘Even I know that some society gossip columnist christened Misty Andracchi and her sisters the Three Graces for their charitable fund-raising activities—’

‘Well, I hadn’t heard of them, and my sisters weren’t very charitable about you,’ Kerry confided with a grimace. ‘In fact they seemed to be blaming you for everything that’s gone wrong at Ballybawn, which isn’t fair—’

‘Obviously very prejudiced ladies, and whoever said life was fair?’ An absolute rage of furious, frustrated disbelief was nibbling at the edges of Luciano’s steely control. Just when Kerry was on the very edge of becoming wholly and absolutely his, providence threatened to snatch her away again. She had three very wealthy sisters, who would no doubt do whatever was in their power to separate Kerry from him.

She could only have spent an hour at most in their company and already his presence in her life had come under attack. That knowledge so inflamed Luciano that it was a second or two before he could even cool down enough to consider what it was that her siblings might find so very objectionable about him. He did not have to consider that issue for long. On the face of it, he was prepared to allow that he might not look like the ultimate catch. He was not only an ex-con but also the bastard who had had the misfortune to collect a debt that ensured their long-lost grandparents became homeless. With luck like that, Luciano reflected grimly, he might as well shoot himself. Andracchi, Christoulakis and the Arab prince Jaspar al-Husayn would make formidable opponents. Luciano was convinced that even on a bad day he could take any one of them but he was less sanguine about his prospects were all three to band together.

‘It’s my sisters who are behind that offer to buy Ballybawn. They want to give it back to Grandpa and Grandma,’ Kerry told him. ‘So you just say yes to that offer now and sell—’

‘Sell?’ Luciano ground out with incredulity. ‘That’s your home we’re talking about—’

‘It doesn’t matter who gives the castle back to my grandparents. My sisters will do it. My sisters are dying to gallop to their rescue,’ she emphasised tautly. ‘You no longer need to worry about my grandparents—’

‘But I own Ballybawn,’ Luciano breathed with a raw edge to his delivery, outraged to have his life-changing bout of generosity tossed back ungratefully in his teeth.