Craving Her Enemy's Touch. Rachael Thomas
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his new venture. A man who knows what he wants and allows nothing to get in his way.
Alessandro did want her at the launch. That much was clear. But why? Was she disrupting his plans by dictating her own terms? She certainly hoped so. It was probably about time he learnt he couldn’t have it all.
‘Very well. I will be as quick as I can.’ She made to move past him and he stepped back away from her, giving her room. So much room that anyone would think he didn’t want her near him, but the heavy hint of desire in his eyes gave an entirely different message.
‘I’m not going anywhere, cara.’ The silky softness of his voice stirred the throb of desire which still lingered inside her body. She clutched the door frame of the kitchen as if it was the only thing that would keep her upright.
‘I wouldn’t expect anything less from a man like you.’ Before he even had time to respond, she fled, dashing up the stairs to her room, enjoying the rush of anticipation that ran through her. She paused briefly. She’d always been excited by the prospect of jetting off when she’d worked for Seb’s team, but never had such a handsome man been part of the reason.
He’s not, she scolded herself and quickly changed, before applying light make-up. Then, with practised speed and efficiency, she packed a small bag, just enough for a few days in Italy. She’d shop for anything else she needed once there.
His expression of shock made her smile as she returned to the kitchen. He hadn’t expected that. At least it proved he didn’t know as much about her as he claimed.
‘Have you your passport?’ His accent was heavy as he moved towards her to take her bag.
His fingers grazed hers as she gave him the bag and heat scorched her skin. She looked up at him and a flush crept over her face. In his eyes she thought she saw desire, the same desire she was sure must be shining from hers. Would he see it? Recognise it?
She hoped not. From the first second her eyes had met his, the pull of attraction had been strong. With each passing minute it had strengthened, but she could not and would not act on it. To do so would be disloyal to Seb. Whatever had happened the night of the accident, this was Seb’s business partner.
She hesitated. Could she do this? Should she be considering going anywhere with this man? The desire he lit within her contrasted starkly with the anger she felt at her brother’s death. As far as she was concerned, he was the reason her brother had crashed.
She’d do well to remember that.
* * *
This was going to be harder than he’d imagined. Sandro took the case from Charlie, taking in her change of clothes. Heels, tight jeans of soft beige with a white blouse and dark brown jacket. Chic. Elegant. Not at all like the dishevelled gardener he’d met on arrival. She was now very much the woman he’d seen on television promoting Seb’s team. The woman he’d admired more and more as Seb had enthused about her.
Don’t go there. He pushed thoughts of her to the back of his mind, focusing instead on maintaining a businesslike manner. One that would keep her where she needed to be in his mind.
He watched as she opened a drawer and pulled out her passport.
‘I should really let my neighbour know I’m going away.’
He frowned, unsure where that comment was going. ‘Why is this?’
‘She’ll keep an eye on the place, water the garden.’ Absently she picked up her phone and began tapping quickly onto the screen. ‘At least for a few days.’
Garden, he pondered. That didn’t fit with the glamorous image she’d built up as she’d promoted the team. Had this cottage, this garden been her escape from the media frenzy that had followed? He knew well about the need to escape. It had been something he’d had to do twice in his life now.
‘You gave up your career to become a gardener?’
She turned to face him, putting her phone in her handbag at the same time. ‘Why is that so shocking?’
‘Seb never mentioned you were a gardener.’
‘It is something I’ve always enjoyed, but I didn’t feel the need to change my life before Seb’s accident.’ She looked up at him, her expression serious and focused. ‘Seb’s death changed all that. That’s why I want to know all he did that day. I have to understand why it happened.’
Each word echoed with her accusation, leaving him in no doubt she blamed him. The only other person who knew the truth was her father—and he’d insisted that she must never know all the details of Seb’s accident.
Thoughts of Seb grounded him and the urge to tell her everything, just to clear his name of blame in her eyes, was overwhelming. But he wasn’t doing this for himself; he was doing it for Seb. He would do well to remember that when he next thought of succumbing to the temptation of Charlie. She was out of his reach. Put there by his sense of honour and his promise to Seb and subsequently her father. Out of his reach was where she had to stay.
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