Claimed For The Italian's Revenge. Natalie Rivers
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said that revenge was a dish best served cold. And, as Marco De Luca waited outside the Ritz Hotel for Claudia Hazelton to appear, his heart felt as cold and hard as steel.
He stared straight ahead, oblivious to the hordes of Christmas shoppers thronging the streets in London’s fashionable West End. He was completely disinterested in the Christmas lights that sparkled everywhere because, at any moment, Claudia would leave the hotel.
It was more than four years since he’d seen her, but he could still picture her face perfectly. Porcelain fair skin with a dusting of freckles. Fine bone structure and delicate features, framed by rich coppery hair that tumbled past her shoulders. Those large eyes that gave the appearance of angelic innocence.
But Marco knew Claudia was far from innocent. She had betrayed him and she’d made the unforgivable mistake of conspiring to hurt his sister.
And now, unbelievably, she planned to marry Primo Vasile—the man who had viciously ripped Marco’s family to shreds twelve years earlier.
A knot twisted nastily in his stomach as he thought about Claudia and Vasile together. Their forthcoming marriage was utterly repellent to him—but it proved just how low Claudia was prepared to stoop. The only possible reason she could have for marrying a man like Vasile was to get her hands on her trust fund early.
Marco would make sure that marriage never happened.
A movement from the hotel’s entrance caught his eye.
It was Claudia.
A sudden surge of unexpected emotion powered through him and his heart started to thud. Even though he’d been waiting for her, actually seeing her in the flesh hit him like a punch to the solar plexus.
He jerked into motion, falling into step behind her as she set off along Picadilly. She walked swiftly, weaving her way with single-minded determination through the crowds of Christmas shoppers filling the London street.
She looked every bit the sophisticated city woman, wearing a sleek chocolate-brown suede coat over tailored trousers and high-heeled boots. But in his mind’s eye he suddenly saw her dressed in the faded T-shirt and old jeans she had worn the last day they’d spent together, trekking along the Pembrokeshire Coast Path.
He pictured her lying on the springy grass on the cliff top, the scent of wild thyme mingling with the sea breeze as he’d leant forward to kiss her. It had been an amazing day, for both of them he had thought, until he’d discovered it was all a smokescreen. She’d been deceiving him in the worst possible way—for the worst possible reasons.
‘Claudia.’ His voice caught in his throat and a strange sensation burned through him—a combination of the betrayal he’d felt when he’d discovered what she had done and the memory of the red hot passion they’d once shared. ‘Claudia, is that you?’ he asked, reaching out to lay his hand on her shoulder.
He felt her jump as his hand made contact, as if an electric shock had run through her.
‘Marco.’ His name formed soundlessly on her lips as she turned to face him, an expression of profound shock on her fine features.
She was even more beautiful than he remembered. In the thin colourless light of the winter afternoon her skin glowed with almost ethereal paleness, but there was something achingly fragile about her that he didn’t recall. His eyes roamed over her, trying to detect even the smallest changes in her appearance.
There were dark smudges under her eyes and her cheekbones seemed more pronounced than before. But maybe it was simply knowing what he had planned for her that made her seem vulnerable to him.
Despite her elegant London grooming, she looked slightly dishevelled. Her gorgeous copper toned hair was caught up inside her collar, as if she’d thrown her coat on hurriedly, and his fingers longed to slip under its silken weight and ease it free.
Then, as she lifted her gaze to meet his, he found himself looking down into her golden brown eyes.
‘Marco.’ Claudia repeated his name out loud this time, hardly able to believe it as she stared up at his face. Her heart was racing and it was impossible to think straight.
It truly was him—Marco De Luca.
He had filled her thoughts for four long years and now he was really here, transported out of her dreams on to the London pavement beside her—except everything about the flesh and blood man was more vivid than the memory.
‘I thought it was you,’ he said. His voice tingled down her spine, deliciously deep and sexy, setting her quivering inside. ‘I saw you walking.’
Claudia opened her lips and tried to speak again, but all she could think was how badly she’d missed him. He’d hurt her terribly when he’d dumped her four years ago, but he’d been in her thoughts every day since then. And now he was here, completely out of the blue, on what had seemed like the worst day of her life so far.
‘Are you all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’ Curiosity glittered in his dark eyes as he looked down at her startled face. ‘Have I caught you at a bad time? You appeared to be hurrying somewhere.’
All of a sudden, a wave of anger rose up and crashed through Claudia’s initial shock at seeing him again. She drew in a deep breath, finding her voice at last.
‘A bad time?’ she demanded incredulously. He had broken her heart when he’d left her, but she’d never discovered the reason why he’d finished their relationship so abruptly. He hadn’t even had the decency to tell her he was leaving. ‘When would be a good time to run into an ex-lover—a man who dumped you without even bothering to tell you it was over?’
‘Well…when you put it like that…’ Marco paused, his wide expressive lips curling into a smile that took her breath away and swept through the ache that had filled her heart since the day he’d disappeared from her life.
‘How would you put it?’ she challenged him. ‘Considering you walked out on me four years ago, without even telling me you were going.’
‘I’d say how wonderful to see you, despite everything,’ Marco said, holding her transfixed with his dark gaze. ‘And what a fantastic opportunity to put things right between us.’
Claudia drew in a breath and tried to speak. She wanted to say that she wasn’t naive enough to fall for his charming ways a second time. But she was caught by the power of his gaze. A sizzling, sensual energy was flowing between them, just as it always had. She felt it in every cell of her body. Every inch of her skin longed to be close to him. It was impossible to ignore.
‘Then I’d say you’re four years too late.’
Her voice sounded steady, but her body and mind were a churning mass of conflicting feelings. She took a hasty step away from him—as if putting a little distance between them would help her get a grip.
Making a sudden sideways move on the busy street was foolhardy and she felt someone crash heavily into her back almost immediately.
‘Sorry!’ A stocky man in a dark overcoat grunted as he put out his hands to steady himself.
‘No…sorry…my fault,’ Claudia gasped, trying to catch her breath. Then Marco’s arms closed around her as he pulled her out of the flow of pedestrians into a shop doorway.
She stared up at him, thinking that he was still the most amazingly good-looking man she’d ever seen. From the moment they’d met, her attraction to him outstripped anything she’d ever experienced before.
When he’d turned his fathomless espresso coloured eyes on to her, it was as if she were the only woman in the world. She’d felt beautiful and special.
But she’d been a fool to let herself think that—things between them hadn’t been what they’d seemed. He wasn’t her soul mate. In fact, he’d shown just how little he cared for her when he’d discarded her so heartlessly.
‘You seem out of place here, in all this hustle and