The Orsini Brides. Sandra Marton
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me a thief?” Draco leaned back in his chair, folded his arms over his chest and laughed.
“You also control a huge financial empire.”
His laughter ended. A look of cold determination took its place as he rose to his feet
“If you have a point, get to it.”
“Oh, I do,” Anna said. She paused for effect, as if this were a grungy New York City courtroom instead of an elegant office. “How do you think a company like yours would stand up to such a scandal in today’s financial climate?”
His face darkened.
“How dare you threaten me? Who the hell are you?”
Anna dug into her pocket, took out a small leather case and extracted a business card. Nonchalantly she plucked a pen from his desk, scribbled the name of her hotel on the back, then flipped the card at him. He caught it, read the black engraving and looked at her through narrowed eyes.
“Anna Orsini,” he said softly. “Well, well, well.”
“That’s me,” Anna said cheerfully. “Anna Orsini. Cesare’s daughter.” Her voice became cold and flat. “In other words, a full-blooded member of the Orsini famiglia. I urge you to keep that in mind.”
It seemed the right line, the closing line, especially when your enemy looked as if he might spring across the desk and throttle you …
Especially when your own heart was banging so hard you were afraid it might leap from your chest.
Anna pivoted on her heel, picked up her briefcase and walked out.
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