Untamed Italian, Blackmailed Innocent. JACQUELINE BAIRD
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to get her attention. Involuntarily she tensed at the touch, and glanced up in surprise, her blue eyes clashing with black.
‘Your father is right, Sally. He is going to be occupied for the rest of the day with Raffe, my accountant.’
For some inexplicable reason, Sally was paralysed by the dark eyes holding hers. They were not actually black, more a deep dark brown, with the faintest tinge of gold, and framed by the longest, thickest, sootiest eyelashes she had ever seen on a man.
What on earth was she doing? She tried to look away. Her mother was her only concern. But somehow her gaze lingered for a moment on his striking face. He wasn’t handsome, she decided. At some time his nose had been broken, and had healed, leaving a slight bump, and above one arched black eyebrow there was an inch-long scar.
‘But I could not possibly allow a young lady to lunch alone.’
Still studying his face, she was only half registering his words. Then with a jolt she swiftly lowered her gaze as she suddenly had a good idea where his statement was going. She glanced back up to see Delucca turn his attention to her dad.
‘If you have no objection, Paxton, I will take your daughter to lunch. Raffe is more than capable of explaining the business we need to discuss, and I will see you later.’
Sally was too stunned by the turn of events to object immediately. Instead she glanced from one man to the other, and caught the hardest look pass between them, and then her father responded—at his jovial best.
‘That is extremely kind of you, Mr Delucca. Problem solved. Sally, darling, Mr Delucca will take you to lunch—isn’t that good of him?’
Sally looked from her dad up to the man towering over her, his dark eyes gleaming with sardonic amusement and something more she did not want to recognise. She shivered and did not bother to answer her dad. Good…? There was nothing good about this man. Of that she was sure…
Ten minutes later Sally was sitting in the back of a limousine, Zac Delucca seated beside her, on her way to a lunch she did not really want.
‘Comfortable, Sally?’
‘Fine,’ she responded automatically. How the hell had this happened? she asked herself for the umpteenth time.
‘The restaurant is about twenty minutes away—a favourite of mine when I am in London.’
‘Fine,’ she murmured, rerunning in her head the conversation in the office.
When she had finally found her voice she had tried to get out of going to lunch with the excuse that she wasn’t that hungry and she was sure Mr Delucca was far too busy to waste time with her.
Delucca had silkily stated that time was never wasted with a beautiful woman. She had noted the devilish humour in his dark eyes, and just known he was laughing at her. He was the kind of man who always won, and she had wanted to slap him.
He’d known that as well, she was sure.
Then there was her dad, who for some reason had seemed very keen for her to go out with the man. In fact, he had practically insisted. With the two of them ganging up on her, she’d never had a chance.
Still, how bad could it be? she asked herself. A quick meal and then she could leave Delucca at the restaurant and grab a cab home. She gazed out of the car window and idly wondered how they made the tinted glass that looked black from the outside of the car, but from the inside was clear, allowing her to see everything outside.
She felt the brush of a hard masculine thigh against her own and moved slightly. If Delucca was coming on to her he was wasting his time. She wasn’t interested. She ignored the sudden warmth in her thigh…
Men did not interest her. Men in general did not figure large in her life, and with her father as an example it was hardly surprising. What with caring and worrying about her mother’s health for most of her adult life—because her father certainly did not—she had never had the time for a boyfriend since she’d left school, even if she had wanted one. If her mother’s doctor was right, she might soon have all the time in the world, and the knowledge made her want to weep. With sightless eyes she stared out of the window, a deep sigh escaping her.
Zac Delucca, for the first time in years, was stumped by a woman. The woman at his side was barely aware of his existence. Her uninterested responses to any attempt at conversation were monosyllabic, and it irritated the hell out of him.
He had even resorted to allowing his thigh to brush against hers, and while it had done dangerous things to his libido she had dismissed the contact without a glance. He was definitely losing his touch, he thought, a wry grin twisting his firm lips.
‘That was a big sigh. Is my company so boring?’ He prompted sardonically.
The deep, dark tone of his voice reminded Sally where she was, and she turned her head to look at him. ‘Not at all, Mr Delucca,’ she replied coolly, and watched as he squared his impressively broad shoulders and casually stretched a long arm across the back of the seat behind her. Not touching, but somehow enclosing her. She drew in a shaky breath, not liking the unfamiliar weak sensation that he somehow aroused in her.
‘Then please call me Zac,’ he invited smoothly. Her face was a perfect social mask, but he had sensed her unease when he had moved closer. She was not as unaware of him as she appeared, and at last he had got her attention. ‘I want there to be no formality between us, Sally,’ he told her huskily.
In fact, he wanted nothing at all between them—not a stitch of clothing, just flesh on flesh. He had never felt so fiercely attracted to a woman in his life, and he watched her reaction as, unable to resist touching her, he allowed his long fingers to slide down and caress her shoulder.
She jumped like a scalded cat and shot back. ‘I don’t want anything at all between us.’
He could not prevent a chuckle as she verbalised his thought exactly, but he was pretty sure she was not thinking along the same lines as him.
‘I’m glad you find me amusing,’ she snapped, looking anything but amused. ‘And take your hand off me.’ She leant forward, shrugging her shoulder to dislodge his hand.
Zac let her, and settled back in the seat. Maybe he had made a mistake. Did he have the time to pursue her, and did he really want to? She was just another typical high-maintenance little rich girl, with her nose put out of joint because the doting father who kept her in comfort had refused to jump to her bidding.
The irony did not escape him. If Raffe’s suspicions were correct, he had already paid for Sally Paxton’s lifestyle without any of the benefits of keeping a beautiful woman.
He studied her for a long moment. She was incredibly lovely. Maybe he could make time. Her hands were folded in her lap, the soft swell of her breasts was just visible above the square-cut neckline of her dress, and her face was hauntingly beautiful but somehow sad. The end of an affair maybe…Easier for him if she was unattached…
‘Not so amusing. More intriguing,’ Zac finally responded, suddenly needing to know. ‘Tell me—do you have a man in your life?’
Sally had heard the question countless times before. While she did not bother with men, quite a few bothered her, and she had developed a surefire way to cool their interest.
‘No. Do you have a wife?’ she retorted, glancing at him. He was still too close for her liking, his hard bicep touching her shoulder. Perhaps it wasn’t deliberate—he was a big man, with an even bigger ego to match, she surmised, and put her plan into action. ‘Because I never go out with married men.’
‘No wife.’ He smiled a hunter’s smile, Sally thought. ‘Nor do I want one,’ he confirmed. Lifting one long finger, he swept a stray tendril of her hair around her ear and stroked down her cheek to tip her chin towards him. ‘And no significant woman at the moment. So there isn’t anything to prevent us getting together. I am a very generous lover, in bed and out. Trust me—I promise you will not be disappointed.’