At The Ruthless Billionaire's Command. Carole Mortimer
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when she’d needed him most.
Going to answer the door wrapped only in a bath towel was far from the ideal way to meet any of her new neighbours, but it would look even worse if Lia didn’t bother to answer the door at all. It must be obvious she was in from the amount of noise she’d been making unpacking boxes and moving furniture around.
Impatient neighbours, Lia decided as the doorbell rang again before she’d even had chance to wrap the towel around herself.
She might be new to living in an apartment, but she knew at least to look through the peephole in the door before opening it. Except she couldn’t see anyone in the hallway—which meant they had to be standing out of view. Well, there was always the safety chain to prevent anyone from coming in if she didn’t want them to. And she didn’t want them to. She was nowhere near ready—or dressed!—to receive visitors.
The reason her visitor had been standing out of the view of the peephole became obvious the moment Lia opened the door and saw Gregorio de la Cruz standing in the hallway!
‘I do not think so.’ He placed his handmade Italian black leather shoe in the six-inch gap left by the door chain, effectively preventing Lia from slamming the door in his face.
‘What are you doing here?’ Lia demanded, her hands gripping the door so tightly her knuckles showed white as she stared at the tall Spaniard.
He was once again dressed in one of those dark bespoke tailored suits, with a pristine white shirt and a perfectly knotted dark grey silk tie. Along with that slightly tousled hair, he looked like a catwalk model.
‘You seem to have asked me questions similar to that several times now,’ he answered evenly. ‘Perhaps in future it might be wise of you to anticipate seeing me where and when you least expect to do so.’
Lia didn’t want to ‘anticipate’ seeing this man anywhere. Least of all outside the door to her apartment. An apartment he shouldn’t even know about when she had only moved in today.
Except he was the powerful Gregorio de la Cruz, and he could do just about anything he wanted to do. Including, it seemed, finding out the address of Amelia Fairbanks’s new apartment.
‘Go to hell!’ She attempted to close to door. Something that wasn’t going to happen with that expensive leather shoe preventing her from doing so.
‘What are you wearing? Or rather, not wearing...?’
Gregorio found himself totally distracted by the view he could see of Amelia’s bare shoulders, where tiny droplets of water dampened her ivory skin, and what appeared to be a knee-length towel wrapped around the rest of her body. Her hair was loosely secured at her crown, with several loose tendrils curling against the slenderness of her nape.
‘None of your damned business!’ There was a flush to her cheeks. ‘Go away, Mr de la Cruz, before I call the police and ask them to forcibly remove you.’
He arched a dark brow. ‘For what reason?’
‘Stalking. Harassment. Don’t worry, I’ll think of something suitable by the time they get here,’ she threatened.
‘I am not worried,’ he assured her calmly. ‘I merely wish to speak with you.’
‘You have nothing to say that I want to hear.’ She glared at him, her eyes a deep metallic grey, the black rings wide about the irises.
‘You cannot possibly know that.’
‘Oh, but I do.’
Gregorio was not known for his patience, but he had waited for two long and tedious months before seeking out this woman again. Two months during which he had hoped her emotions would not be quite so volatile. Obviously time had not lessened her resentment towards him. Or the blame she felt he deserved for her father’s death at the age of only fifty-nine.
To say he had been shocked by Jacob Fairbanks’s demise would be an understatement. Although it must have been a strain for the man—and his company—to have been under close scrutiny of the FSA financial regulators. They were still investigating, and all of Jacob Fairbanks’s assets would remain frozen until their investigation was complete.
Gregorio had no doubt that it had been the withdrawal of De la Cruz Industries’ offer to buy Fairbanks’s company that had caused the FSA’s investigation. But he would not be held responsible for the bad business decisions that had brought Jacob Fairbanks to the brink of bankruptcy. Or the man’s fatal heart attack.
Except, it seemed, by Amelia Fairbanks...
‘No bodyguards this evening?’ she taunted. ‘My, aren’t you feeling brave? Facing a five-feet-two-inches-tall woman all on your own!’
Gregorio’s mouth tightened at the jibe. ‘Silvio and Raphael are waiting outside in the car.’
‘Of course they are,’ she scorned. ‘Do you carry a panic button you can press, if necessary, and they’ll come running?’
‘You are being childish, Miss Fairbanks.’
‘No, what I’m being is someone attempting to get rid of an unwanted visitor.’ Her eyes flashed. ‘Now, take your damned foot out of my doorway!’
His jaw tightened. ‘We need to talk, Amelia.’
‘No, we really don’t. And Amelia was my grandmother,’ she dismissed. ‘My name is Lia. Not that I’m giving you permission to use it. Only my friends are allowed that privilege,’ she added with a sneer.
Gregorio knew he was most certainly not one of those. And nor did ‘Lia’ intend for him ever to become one.
It was unfortunate for her that Gregorio felt differently on the subject. He didn’t only want to be Lia’s friend, he had every intention of becoming her lover.
When his parents had died twelve years ago they had left their sons only a rundown vineyard in Spain. As the eldest of the three brothers, Gregorio had made it his priority to rebuild and expand, and now he and his brothers owned a vineyard to be proud of, as well as other businesses worldwide. He had done those things by single-mindedly knowing what he wanted and ensuring that he acquired it.
He had wanted Lia from the moment he’d first set eyes on her. He would not give up until he had her.
He almost smiled—but only almost—at the thought of her reaction if he were to state here and now that that was his intention. No, he knew to keep that to himself. For now.
‘Nevertheless, the two of us need to talk. If you would care to open the door and put some clothes on...?’
‘There are two things wrong with that demand.’
‘It was a request—not a demand.’
She raised auburn brows. ‘Coming from you, it was a demand. I don’t care to open the door, or go and put some clothes on. And nor,’ she continued when he would have spoken, ‘as I’ve already said, do you have anything to say that I want to hear. Because of you my father is dead.’ Tears glistened in those smoky grey eyes. ‘Just leave, Mr de la Cruz, and take your guilty conscience with you.’
Gregorio’s jaw clenched. ‘I do not have a guilty conscience.’
‘Silly me—of course you don’t.’ She eyed him scornfully. ‘Men like you ruin people’s lives every day, so what does it matter if a man had a heart attack and died because of you?’
‘You are being melodramatic.’
‘I’m stating the facts.’
‘Men like me?’ he queried softly.
‘Rich and ruthless tyrants who trample over everyone and everything that gets in your way.’
‘I was not always rich.’
‘But you were always ruthless—still are!’
For the sake of his brothers and his own future, yes, he had