The Mistress That Tamed De Santis
If she spoke, he’d be lost.
But his desire for her wasn’t the reason why he’d ensured she attend this particular function. It was in her interest to attend. It wasn’t that he was desperate to see her again. He was simply helping her out, because he was in the position to be able to.
Salvatore Accardi was also a guest at this late afternoon’s drinks, yet Antonio noticed the man didn’t say hello to Bella. He was her father, Antonio was in no doubt of that, yet he didn’t even acknowledge her presence with the politeness you’d afford a stranger. He acted as if she weren’t there. Beyond rude.
But Bella was working the room with that bulletproof style of hers, refusing to let her father’s ostracism daunt her. Antonio felt like cheering her. He understood social isolation and he didn’t want her to feel the sharp edge of it. She’d done nothing to deserve it. He’d checked her out. Beyond that super-seductive façade, there was nothing. She’d not been caught lying or stealing or cheating...she was a woman—that was all. A woman who couldn’t help who her parents were. A woman he still wanted.
He caught Matteo’s eye.
‘Ensure she’s not left alone,’ Antonio instructed as the aide came over. ‘There are people here it would benefit her to meet and people who might give her a hard time.’
And then he decided to set the example for everyone. He deliberately walked over to talk to her; it would be too obvious if he didn’t and he refused to be anything like her father.
‘It is always a pleasure, Ms Sanchez.’
She didn’t immediately reply but her eyes narrowed on him.
She wasn’t appreciative of his efforts?
His focus changed, arrowing on the electricity arcing between them. He’d made a mistake. He’d thought he’d be lost if she spoke to him, but, really, it had taken only one look.
‘It seems you have guests from every sector of San Felipe society here tonight,’ Bella murmured, trying to regulate her racing pulse, but seeing him threw her balance completely. ‘Business leaders, rally drivers, retired politicians...’ Her voice trailed off. ‘Even me.’
Antonio almost smiled. ‘Why shouldn’t you be here?’
‘You know very well why.’ She shifted, restless because of his nearness. ‘You shouldn’t have invited me. Our agreement was once only.’
She’d been a fool to think once would’ve been enough. The last few days since had been horrendous. And this invitation? It hadn’t been in his hurried scrawl. It had been formal, printed and distant, yet she’d not hesitated for a second. The craving to see him had been too great. She’d applied her lipstick with a shaking hand, she’d been so full of anticipation. Now he was right with her and holding herself back was almost impossible.
But she hadn’t slept properly in weeks because she’d been getting the club ready and now it was open she was frantically busy and the sleeplessness was affecting her more each day. So she didn’t have the energy to build her defences; she couldn’t control her own heated trembling.
‘That wasn’t why I invited you,’ he answered impassively.
Bella’s blood iced. It wasn’t? Didn’t he want her again? Had that one morning truly been enough for him?
‘This is a reception for San Felipe’s most successful local business leaders,’ he continued with his customary distance. ‘You are a businesswoman who’s carving out a brand and a service that has seen unprecedented success already. That’s why you’re here.’
Rejection and bitterness bruised. ‘To network with people who don’t want my business in their town because I’m some kind of bad influence?’ she asked acidly.
Salvatore Accardi had been sending hostile waves across the room since she’d walked in.
She curled her suddenly cold hands into fists. She wanted to leave. To escape Antonio more than anything.
‘It’s not like you’re running a brothel,’ Antonio drawled softly enough so only she heard. ‘Entertainment is a large part of what San Felipe offers and you’re drawing in large numbers of younger customers. We don’t want the island to be famous for being the holiday destination of only the old and wealthy.’