Craving Her Enemy's Touch. Rachael Thomas

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Craving Her Enemy's Touch - Rachael Thomas


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had the distinct impression he was stalling her in an attempt to divert her attention. It was almost working. She’d never been under such a hot spotlight before. Think of Seb, she reminded herself, not wanting to waste this opportunity.

      ‘Do you always believe gossip?’ He folded his arms, looking more relaxed than he had a right to. Far too self-assured.

      She frowned, irritation at his attitude growing. ‘No, of course I don’t.’

      ‘So if I tell you there was nothing wrong with the car, would you believe me?’ He unfolded his arms and turned in his seat, stretching his long legs out, one arm leaning casually on the table. But he was far from casual. His body might be relaxed but, looking into those dark eyes, she knew he was all alertness. Like a hunting cat, lulling its quarry into a false sense of security. But not this mouse. No, she was on her guard.

      Forcefully, she shook her head. ‘The only thing that will convince me of that is to see the report of the accident.’

      He stood up slowly, his height almost intimidating, walked towards the window and looked out across her garden and the countryside beyond. ‘Would that really help? Every last detail is in it.’

      ‘Yes,’ she said and moved towards him, drawn by an inexplicable need to see his face, see the emotion in it. ‘I want every last detail.’

      ‘Why do you think your father hasn’t shown you the report?’ His broad shoulders became a barrier, as if he was hiding something, concealing something he didn’t want her to know, like his guilt. ‘What are you hoping to find?’

      ‘The truth.’ Anger surged through her again as she imagined him talking to her father, conspiring to hide all the details. She still couldn’t understand why her father wouldn’t tell her everything. She’d always suspected he was covering something up. Did he have loyalties to this man which exceeded those to his daughter—or even his son’s memory?

      He turned to face her, his expression hard, making the angles of his face more pronounced. ‘Sometimes not knowing the truth is best.’

      ‘What?’ She pressed her fingertips to her temples, hardly able to believe what he was saying. Her father and this man were keeping things from her. He might as well have told her exactly that. ‘What are you talking about?’

      * * *

      Alessandro heard the exasperation in her voice and gritted his teeth against the urge to tell her what she wanted to know. A truth that would tarnish all the happiness she’d ever shared with her brother and a truth her father had expressly asked him to conceal from her. That had been the one and only condition her father had made when he’d contacted him. He intended to honour that—and the promise he’d made to Seb.

      She stood before him, not able to look at him as she pressed long fingers against her temples, her head shaking in denial. The rise and fall of her shoulders as her breath came hard and fast gave away the struggle she was having. Instinctively, he took hold of her arms and she looked back up at him, the beauty of her green eyes almost swaying him from his purpose. ‘Your brother was in a high speed accident. You do know that, don’t you?’

      ‘I know,’ she whispered, thankfully a little more calmly, and looked up into his face, her eyes searching his, looking for answers he couldn’t give. ‘But I need to know what happened and why.’

      ‘It is better to remember him well and happy, believe me, Charlotte. It is for the best.’ Her ragged sigh deflated all the anger from her body and he felt the resignation slip through her, defusing the fight which had raged moments ago.

      ‘I know, but so many questions need answering.’ She closed her eyes and he watched the thick dark lashes splay out over her pale skin. The urge to kiss her rushed at him, almost knocking the breath from his body.

      When he’d arrived he’d never expected to find a woman he desired so fiercely. Only once before had such a need raged in him and he’d acted impulsively on it, marrying quickly, only to discover his wife had had ulterior motives all along. Under no circumstances would he put himself in such a position again.

      The attraction which had sprung between him and Charlie the second their eyes had met complicated things, made his promise even harder to keep. He let her go and stepped back away from her, away from the temptation, curling his fingers into tight fists. The whole situation was testing far more than his ability to keep his promise.

      She looked up at him, her chin lifting in determination. ‘I will find out, Mr Roselli. Your and my father’s insistence to keep things from me only makes it more important to do so.’

      ‘Some things are best left alone. For Seb’s sake, accept what you know and do as your father wants.’ He moved away from her, back to the chair he’d sat in earlier—anything to put distance between them—but still the heady need which rushed through him persisted.

      ‘For Seb’s sake?’ Her question jolted him and he realised how close he’d come to pointing her in the direction of the cause of the accident.

      ‘Seb asked for you to be at the launch. It was one of the last things he said to me.’ There was no way he was going to tell her Seb’s actual last words and he guarded himself against letting the truth inadvertently slip. He held her partly accountable for Seb’s problems. She’d never been to see him in Italy, had never shown any interest, but that wasn’t something he was prepared to discuss now. All he wanted was for her to agree to be at the launch.

      ‘He really said that?’ Her voice was so soft it was hardly audible, but it did untold things to the pulse of desire he was fighting hard to suppress.

      ‘He wanted you there.’ He watched the indecision slide over her face and waited. She was coming to the right decision slowly. All he had to do was wait.

      * * *

      Charlie couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. Yes, she knew Seb’s accident would have caused horrible injuries, but she couldn’t rid herself of the notion there was something else. Something her father wanted to keep from her as much as Alessandro did. Did that mean he was to blame?

      She changed tactics and adopted an attitude of acceptance, realising it was possibly the only way to find out. Slowly, she walked back to the table and stood looking down at him where he calmly sat, watching her.

      ‘If I come to the launch I want to know all about the car first. I want to see everything you and Seb worked on. I want to live it, to breathe it.’ A hint of the passion she’d always felt for her job and the world of racing started to fizz in her veins after being unmoved for many months, infusing her with excitement that she hadn’t felt for a long time.

      ‘There isn’t much time for that.’ He sat back in the chair and looked up at her, observing every move she made until she wondered if he could read all her thoughts.

      ‘If I’m going to be at the launch I want to be able to talk about the car, to bring it to life for everyone else. I need to know all there is to know.’

      It was more than that, she admitted to herself. It was much more than just promoting the car. It was seeing what Seb had seen, feeling the excitement he’d felt as he’d driven it for the first time. Her thoughts halted as if they’d slammed into a brick wall.

      Was she ready to know all the facts? She looked at the man she’d blamed for her brother’s death. As far as she was concerned, he’d allowed Seb to drive a faulty car, despite the fact that her father had told her all the reports stated driver error. She’d blamed Alessandro and now he was here, offering her the opportunity to find out the truth for herself. Would he really do that if he had something to hide?

      ‘I want to see all the files and every drawing Seb made.’ She kept her voice firm, trying to hide the waver of confidence growing within her.

      Alessandro got up and made his way around the table, coming closer to her, his face stern with contemplation. ‘I can’t allow it. There isn’t enough time.’

      Not allow it. Who did he think he was?

      ‘If


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