The Man Who Risked It All

‘When did I say that I wanted to check out the White Streak?’ he demanded in bewilderment.

That was the trouble. He didn’t tell her anything, so she had to guess what he was thinking! ‘Then why are we going to the Tolle docks?’

‘Because,’ he said, ‘the Miranda is there.’

‘You still have the Miranda?’

‘All shipshape and ready to sail.’ He nodded. ‘We are taking her out. Give me a shout when you need directions,’ he said, then stretched himself out in the seat and closed his eyes!

Lexi bit down on her tongue to stop herself from demanding to know who he thought he was, casually making that decision without any input from her. But then he’d been making decisions all over the place without bothering to request any input from her.

And he called me bossy, she thought, turning them onto the main highway. Then she tracked back, and felt a happy little fizz of excitement erupt deep down. The Miranda. She’d fallen in love with his boat from the very first day he’d taken her out on it. They’d spent the best times of their summer together on the Miranda, sailing along the French and Italian Riviera in a flotilla of sailing yachts, keeping his friends close but not so close they could intrude on what the two of them had going on.

‘I thought you would have built yourself a newer, more up-to-date yacht by now,’ she murmured.

‘I have,’ he confirmed, without opening his eyes. ‘But the Miranda is—special.’

Because the yacht held special memories for him too?

As she drove them on towards Livorno Lexi saw herself as she’d looked the first time he’d invited her to spend the day with him on the Miranda. She’d worn a little red bikini with a skimpy red sarong around her waist. Franco had had on his usual shorts and a T-shirt, and she’d smiled at him but felt so shy she hadn’t been able to look into his eyes. The thrill of being alone with him for the first time had charged up her senses, and she’d felt quivery on the inside, breathless and flushed.

‘Thanks,’ she’d mumbled, landing lightly by his side in rubber-soled flip-flops. It was the first time she’d noticed how he towered over her—big and dark and potently sexy. ‘Wh—where can I stash this?’

The brightly coloured canvas bag that swung from one of her sun-kissed shoulders had contained everything she’d considered she might need for a day’s sailing.

‘I will do it.’ Smooth as anything, he’d lifted the bag from her shoulder and carried it over to the sleek, low bulkhead that gave access to whatever was below decks. She’d tried to take a peek, but he’d blocked her view as he’d come back up on top, forcing her to take a couple of hurried steps back.

‘You’re skittish,’ he’d said, and started frowning. ‘You are not scared of me are you?’

‘Of course I’m not,’ she’d answered firmly.

He’d pointed towards the cream leather seating that hugged the shallow basin in which they stood. ‘Then sit down and relax.’

She remembered sitting down and thinking, Claudia Clemente is going to kill me when she finds out about this. She’d known even then that Claudia wanted Franco all to herself, Lexi recalled, frowning as she steered the car onto the street leading down to the Tolle docks. Back then, though, she had not understood the kind of enemy she was making for herself. So she’d gone out for a day’s sailing with Francesco Tolle and become his lover before they’d sailed back into Cannes.

‘A fast mover,’ she murmured now.

‘Scuzi?’ the man lazing beside her responded.

‘You,’ Lexi enlightened him. ‘For our first date you took me out sailing for the day, but I don’t remember that we did much sailing. You had me below decks and spread out on your bed before I’d managed to draw in more than a couple of breaths.’

‘Two hours twenty minutes. I was counting … Pull in at the gates just ahead,’ he instructed and sat up. ‘I thought I was very patient.’

‘With a bet on the table I suppose you would think like that.’

‘Lexi, you know I did not make love to you because of some stupid bet,’ Franco sighed out irritably.

Did she know that? Yes, she knew that. Somehow the bet was losing its importance. Lexi frowned when she made that discovery.

She pulled in at the gates as instructed, and a security guard came out of his office, touching his brow to acknowledge Franco, grinning at Lexi because she was in charge of his flashy red super car. He opened the gates.

‘This place is vast,’ she said, sitting forward so she could look curiously around her. She had never been here before, and she kept twisting her neck to the left and the right in an effort to take in the huge buildings on either side of them as she drove. ‘Do you ever get lost in here?’

‘Never,’ drawled the man, with insufferable self-confidence. ‘Take the next left. It leads to my private marina.’

His ‘private marina’? It made Lexi pull a face. ‘Where are your offices?’

There was a pause before he answered, and when he did speak his voice was as dry as dust. ‘Three miles in the other direction, cara. You don’t have a clue what kind of family you married into, do you?’