Revenge In The Boardroom: Fonseca's Fury / Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Boss? / Unfinished Business. Nina Harrington
Читать онлайн книгу.
youth and allure and beauty. The kind of beauty that made grown men fall to their knees in wonder. A siren’s beauty, luring them to their doom.
Luca’s mouth twisted. He’d proved to be no better than any other mortal man when she’d lured him to his doom. He took responsibility for being in that club—of course he did. But from the moment she’d sashayed over to stand in front of him everything had grown a little hazy. And Luca was not a person who got hazy. No matter how stunning the woman. His whole life was about being clear and focused, because he had a lot to achieve.
But her huge bright blue eyes had seared him alive, igniting every nerve-ending, blasting aside any concerns. Her skin was flawless, her aquiline nose a testament to her breeding. Her mouth had fascinated him. Perfectly sculpted lips. Not too full, not too thin, effortlessly hinting at a dark and sexy sensuality.
She’d said coquettishly, ‘It’s rude to stare, you know.’
And instead of turning on his heel in disgust at her reputation and her arrogance, Luca had felt the blood flow through his body, hardening it, and he’d drawled softly, ‘I’d have to be blind not to be dazzled. Join me for a drink?’
She’d tossed her head and for a second Luca had thought he glimpsed something curiously vulnerable and weary in those stunning blue eyes, but it had to have been a trick of the strobing lights, because then she’d purred, ‘I’d love to.’
The wisps of memory faded from Luca’s mind. He hated it that even now, just thinking of her, was having an effect on his body. Seven years had passed, and yet he felt as enflamed by anger and desire as he had that night. A bruising, humiliating mix.
He’d just left Serena DePiero in no doubt as to what he thought of her. She’d effectively been fired from her job. So why wasn’t there a feeling of triumph rushing through him? Why was there an unsettling, prickling feeling of...unfinished business?
And why was there the tiniest grudging sliver of admiration for the way she had not backed down from him and the way that small chin had tipped up ever so slightly just before she’d left?
THE HOTEL WAS a few blocks back from Copacabana beach. To say that it was basic was an understatement, but it was clean—which was the main thing. And cheap—which was good, considering Serena was living off her meagre savings from the last year. She took off her travelling clothes, which were well creased by now, and stepped into the tiny shower, relishing the lukewarm spray.
Her belly clenched minutely when she imagined Luca’s reaction to her not leaving Rio but she pushed it aside. She’d been standing in line for the check-in when her sister had phoned her. Too heartsore to admit that she was coming home so soon, and suddenly aware that Athens didn’t even really feel like home, Serena had made a spur-of-the-moment decision to tell a white lie and pretend everything was okay.
And, even though she’d hated lying—to her sister, of all people—she didn’t regret it now. She was still angry at Luca Fonseca’s easy dismissal of her, the way he’d toyed with her before kicking her out of his office.
It had been enough to propel her out of the airport and back into the city. She scrubbed her scalp with unnecessary force, not liking how turbulent her emotions still were after meeting him again, and she certainly didn’t like admitting that he’d roused her to a kind of anger she hadn’t felt in a long time. Angry enough to rebel...when she’d thought she’d left all that behind her.
When she emerged from the bathroom she had a towel hitched around her body and another one on her head, and was feeling no less disgruntled. She almost jumped out of her skin when a loud, persistent knocking came on her door.
Scrambling around to find something to put on, Serena called out to whoever it was to wait a second as she pulled on some underwear and faded jeans and a T-shirt. The towel fell off her head so her long hair hung damply down her back and over her shoulders.
She opened the door and it was as if someone had punched her in the stomach. She couldn’t draw breath because Luca Fonseca was standing there, eyes shooting sparks at her, looking angrier than she’d ever seen him.
‘What the hell are you doing here, DePiero?’ he snarled.
Serena answered faintly, ‘You seem to be asking me that a lot lately.’
And then the fright he’d just given her faded and the anger she’d been harbouring swelled back. Her hand gripped the door.
‘Actually, I might ask the same of you—what the hell are you doing here, Fonseca?’ Something occurred to her. ‘And how on earth did you even know where I was?’
His mouth was a tight line. ‘I told Sancho, my driver, to wait at the airport and make sure you got on the flight.’
The extent of how badly he’d wanted her gone hit her. Her hand gripped the door even tighter. ‘This is a free country, Fonseca. I decided to stay and do a little sightseeing, and as I no longer work for you I really don’t think you have any jurisdiction here.’
She went to close the door in his face but he easily stopped her and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him and forcing her to take a step back.
His arctic gaze took in her appearance with derision and Serena crossed her arms over her braless chest, self-conscious.
‘Mr Fonseca—’
‘Enough with the Mr Fonseca. Why are you still here, Serena?’
His use of her name made something swoop inside her. She crossed her arms tighter. It reminded her bizarrely of how it had felt to kiss him in the middle of that dance floor. Dark and hot and intoxicating. No other man’s kiss or touch had ever made her feel like that. She’d pulled back from him in shock, as if his kiss had incinerated her, right through to where she was still whole. Herself.
‘Well?’
The curt question jarred Serena back to the present and she hated it that she’d remembered that feeling of exposure.
‘I want to see Rio de Janeiro before going home.’ As if she would confide that she also wanted to delay revealing the extent of her failure to her family for as long as possible.
Luca snorted indelicately. ‘Do you have any idea where you are? Were you planning on taking a stroll along the beach later?’
Serena gritted her jaw. ‘I was, actually. I’d invite you to join me, but I’m sure you have better things to be doing.’
His sheer animal magnetism was almost overwhelming in the small space. The beard and his longer hair only added to his intense masculinity. Her skin prickled with awareness. She could feel her nipples tighten and harden against the barrier of her thin T-shirt and hated the unique way this man affected her above any other.
Luca was snarling again. ‘Do you realise that you’re in one of the most dangerous parts of Rio? You’re just minutes from one of the worst favelas in the city.’
Serena resisted the urge to point out that that should please him. ‘But the beach is just blocks away.’
Now he was grim. ‘Yes, and no one goes near this end of the beach at night unless they’re out to score some drugs or looking to get mugged. It’s one of the most dangerous places in the city after dark.’
He stepped closer and his eyes narrowed on her speculatively.
‘But maybe that’s it? You’re looking for some recreational enhancement? Maybe your family have you under their watch and you’re relishing some freedom? Have you even told them you’ve been fired?’
Serena’s arms fell to her sides and she barely noticed Luca’s gaze dropping to her chest before coming up again. All she felt was an incredible surge of anger and hatred for this man and his perspicacity—even if it wasn’t entirely accurate.