Seducing His Enemy's Daughter

The consequences for Donato if he’d... It didn’t bear thinking about.

‘Nothing to say, Ella?’ He looked fierce, almost predatory with that harsh expression and his scar drawn tight down one clenched cheek. Yet there was something more too. Something that made her still.

‘I’m waiting for you to explain.’

There it was again. A flicker of doubt. No, not doubt. Regret.

Ella’s stomach bottomed. This was going to get worse.

‘By the end of the day Reg Sanderson will have nothing. The project we were negotiating will go ahead without him.’ Donato lifted his chin, daring her to protest. ‘I’ve also acquired a number of other holdings where your father had interests or, more specifically, debts.’

‘Let me guess. The debts have been called in?’

Donato nodded. ‘He’ll be declared bankrupt. His creditors and so-called friends won’t forgive him that. He’ll lose everything, including the house, the luxury cars and the cruiser.’

Strangely, Ella didn’t feel as shocked as she might have done. Her father had always lived on the edge, investing in schemes other businessmen avoided. His recent desperation told its own story.

‘You came to Sydney to destroy him.’ It wasn’t a question. It had been there for her to see from the first, if only she’d taken time to look. Donato’s thinly veiled impatience with her father had obviously been more than a sense of smug superiority.

‘I did.’

Ella swallowed, shifting in her seat, wondering what else she hadn’t bothered to notice. ‘And my brother... Rob’s money? Were you genuine about getting that to him or is it gone for ever?’

Donato’s eyebrows angled sharply down. ‘I said I would. The money is already in his account.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Relief was a wave of lightness easing her tense frame. ‘But I had to know.’

He lifted those impressive shoulders but there was nothing casual about his shrug. It spoke of leashed energies and raw tension. ‘I understand. You grew up with a man who couldn’t be relied on to keep his word.’

Ella stared, taking in the full measure of Donato’s disapproval. He really...hated her father.

‘What was I in all this?’ She waved a hand at the magnificently over-the-top wedding gown spreading like a romantic dream around her. Her nipples scraped satin where she clutched the bodice tight. ‘What was the wedding all about?’

For too long Donato held her gaze. Long enough for that little bubble of hope to surface again. The hope that what had obviously begun as a bad joke or part of a scheme had become something more. That Donato had come to care for her. That maybe he even wanted—

‘Partly it was a diversion. It kept your father so distracted he wouldn’t notice anything else.’

‘And the other part?’ Ella’s flesh tightened across her nape. This was about her, not some financial scheme.

‘It was the final touch that would seal his downfall.’ Yet there was no satisfaction in Donato’s eyes. ‘I encouraged his schemes for the most grandiose society wedding. Any last cash or credit he might have had has gone on the preparations. His social standing will be destroyed when it’s called off.’

‘And so will the suppliers who’ll be out of pocket!’ The scheme was outrageous on so many levels.

Then she read Donato’s expression. ‘You had a plan for that, didn’t you? What were you going to do? Pay them all when he couldn’t?’

‘Something like that.’

Ella supposed the cost was nothing to a man of his wealth. But this wasn’t just about money. Her mind reeled. ‘When was it going to be called off, Donato?’

He stared straight back. ‘As late as possible.’

Ella nodded. ‘For maximum impact.’

Finally she began to see. It wasn’t just her father’s money Donato wanted to take. It was his reputation, such as it was, his pride. She’d been caught up in a scheme far bigger than herself. She’d been...what was the saying?

Collateral damage.

Hurt scored deep, deeper than she’d imagined possible. Not even because of what he’d done to her father, but selfishly because of what he’d done to her.

She’d actually believed Donato wanted her for herself!

It wasn’t easy dragging metres of ballooning satin up, especially with one hand clamped to her bodice. Ella managed it as if she’d been wrangling formal gowns all her life. Amazing what adrenalin could do.