The Heat Of Passion

The ring on her engagement finger was a stunningly noticeable diamond cluster that literally weighed down her hand. She also had diamond earrings and a slender gold watch that had undoubtedly cost thousands, although nothing as indiscreet as price had been mentioned in Cartier within her hearing.

'What about an ankle chain?' she had said, meaning to be sarcastic.

But Carlo had found that idea a distinct turn-on. For a split-second his businesslike detachment had evaporated. Heated golden eyes had scanned her assessingly, a sensual curve tinging his expressive mouth. 'I believe I'll shop for that item on my own,’ he had murmured in a black velvet purr of anticipation.

You really couldn't afford to be sarcastic with Carlo. 'We'll dine out tonight,’ he had decreed after the limousine had dropped them off at his London apartment.

An hour and a half later, she regarded her reflection in the mirror with scorn. The sapphire-blue cocktail dress lovingly defined every breath she drew, never mind her body. It was the kind of dress which screamed 'I want to be noticed,' and Jessica had never suffered from such a need.

But you're playing a part, she reminded herself doggedly, surveying the ring with a curled lip. And maybe if she could prove to Carlo that she could play that part well, he would be less keen to force her into bed. A subconscious voice told her she was tilting at windmills but Jessica did not easily accept defeat.

Nor did Carlo. Involuntarily she recalled the sheer bloody-minded ferocity of his pursuit six years ago.

He had insisted on driving her home personally from the clinic the next day. He had already alerted her parents without her knowledge. Her father had greeted Carlo as though he had snatched his beloved daughter from the jaws of death and her mother's usual expression of boredom had evaporated the same second she saw Carlo.

He had stayed for dinner. He had talked business with

her father and, when her mother had made some fleeting

reference to the wedding, Carlo had smiled. 'Jessica's

too young for marriage ‘

Tar too young,' Carole had chipped in, making no secret of the fact that she had little time for Simon Turner.

Later, her mother had come to her room. 'Well, well, well,' she had said mockingly. 'So you've found yourself a millionaire,’

'I haven't found myself anything!' Jessica had dismissed with distaste.

'Sometimes I think I must have been handed the wrong baby at the hospital.' Carole Amory had grimaced. 'What's the matter with you?'

'Nothing. I just don't like him.'

'What a shame. I've invited him to join the rest of our guests next weekend.’

'MotherV

'He's loaded, darling. He might just decide to invest in Amory's if we play our cards right. So be nice to him for your Daddy's sake. It was pretty obvious to me that the only thing Carlo Saracini is really interested in is you.’

Flowers had arrived for her every day the following week, each card adorned only with a slashed initial ‘C. Then he had phoned and asked her out to dinner. She had refused and he had laughed. The following evening she had found herself smiling glacially across a table at him, with her parents seated on either side as Carlo re’ turned their hospitality at the Deangate.

With spectacular speed and efficiency, not to mention breathtaking effrontery, Carlo had broken into their lives, offering her father business contacts and advice, flattering the older man with his interest. Her mother had raged at her when she'd attempted to persuade her father that Carlo Saracini was not a man he wanted to know.

'If the firm goes into receivership, it'll be your fault!’ Carole had told Jessica furiously. 'Carlo could help us... but he's not going to help if you offend him!'

Jessica had been shaken to appreciate that the family firm was on such rocky foundations. And the idea that Carlo Saracini had the power to make or break Amory's had horrified her. She hadn't trusted him an inch but her continuing attempts to warn off her father had fallen on deaf ears.

'He knows four times as much as I knew at the same age,' Gerald Amory had said admiringly. 'And he's

already put me in touch with a couple of very useful people.’

Carlo had become a regular visitor to her home. Had she ever actually been naive enough to believe that Carlo might simply invest in Amory's? Yes, she had been.

'I can help your father...' Carlo had drawled softly the night he had called when she was at home alone. 'Take off that ring and you'll find out how generous I can be.'

'I'm not for sale, Mr Saracini, and my engagement to Simon is not some bargaining counter in a sordid deal,' she flashed back, stiff with outrage.

Carlo had anchored one powerful hand round her wrist