Ruthless Revenge: Sweet Surrender: Seducing His Enemy's Daughter / Surrendering to the Vengeful Italian / Soldier Under Siege. Annie WestЧитать онлайн книгу.
‘You do?’
He nodded. ‘It pays not to accept everything at face value. Too many people put themselves at risk then find themselves in situations they can’t control or escape.’ His voice rang with a depth of feeling that surprised her.
She couldn’t imagine anyone taking advantage of Donato.
‘Did that ever happen to you?’
Long moments passed, then he surprised her. ‘Of course. But once was enough. It won’t happen again.’ His words held absolute certainty.
Ella wished she possessed such conviction. She should walk away from Donato Salazar and the danger he represented. He made her want things that scared the daylights out of her.
She imagined giving in to him. There’d be no fumbling, no awkwardness. She guessed with him sex would be far too easy and utterly devastating.
‘Why me?’ She set her jaw. ‘There are plenty of glamorous women here. Quite a few would give you sex if you asked.’
‘You don’t think you’re glamorous?’
How had he latched onto that? On the fact she felt like an imposter even dressed in silk and diamonds.
‘I know my limitations.’
‘And you think your looks are one of them?’
‘The way I look doesn’t matter.’ She ignored the tension clamping her stomach.
He put down his drink beside hers and she wondered, frantically, if he’d reach for her. Instead he shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. The movement emphasised the power in both his broad shoulders and muscular thighs.
‘I think it matters very much, to you.’
Ella wiped clammy hands down her dress. Her sister’s dress. Fuzz would look delicate and gorgeous in it. On Ella it strained at the seams and the skirt rode too high.
‘I was wrong when I called you pretty.’
She froze. She’d asked for the truth, hadn’t she? What did it matter if these last few years she’d begun to believe she was attractive in her own quiet way? His admission shouldn’t feel like such a blow.
‘Pretty is for little girls. And you’re all woman, Ella.’ She saw his hands bunch in his pockets, drawing the fabric of his trousers tight. ‘You’re the only woman here that I want in my bed.’
Her breath was an audible gasp.
‘You’re stunning. The fire in your eyes, that sassy mouth of yours, all that lovely lush bounty of hips and breasts and long, long legs. I want—’
‘That’s enough!’
Ella pressed a palm to her pounding chest. Her heart hammered up high as if it had broken free. ‘We’re not discussing my looks or who you want in your bed.’
‘We’re not?’ His mouth kicked up at the corner in a tiny smile that was far more devastating than the one he’d given her before. It was the sort of smile a friend or lover might give, a shared intimacy.
Ella tugged the silk dress further down her thighs. ‘No. We’re discussing the fact that you marrying into the Sanderson family is totally unnecessary.’
‘Unnecessary? Yes.’
At last! She felt as if a huge stone lifted off her chest. Finally some of the tension drained from her body.
‘But definitely appealing.’ His eyes traced a sinuous line down her tall frame and it was a wonder Ella didn’t self-combust. If any other man had ogled her like that she’d have slapped him. Instead her shoulders tightened, pushing out her breasts as if she revelled in that proprietorial look.
‘I beg your pardon?’ Pity the words sounded breathy rather than outraged.
‘You heard me, Ella. Don’t play coy.’
‘I’m not playing anything!’ Had the world gone mad? Had lust addled her brain? ‘You can’t seriously tell me you think my father’s plan makes sense.’
‘Actually—’ his eyes locked with hers ‘—I think it’s an excellent idea.’
‘You’ve got to be kidding.’ She stared into that steady blue gaze, waiting for some sign that Donato was joking.
No sign came. Ella folded her hands over her chest then wished she hadn’t when his gaze flickered to her breasts, pushed up under the tight silk. She hated how that split-second glance flustered her.
‘It’s not going to happen. Felicity won’t marry you.’
‘So you said.’ He leaned forward, holding her gaze. ‘You’re repeating yourself. Do I make you nervous?’
‘Nervous? No.’ Casually she reached for her discarded glass and took a slow sip.
‘Something else then?’ His voice was a dark purr. Instead of reassuring, it primed her fight-or-flight response. Donato was no tame cat. He was about as safe as a panther eyeing its next meal.
‘Several things spring to mind, Donato, but I’m too polite to spell them out.’
His chuckle was warm treacle spilling through her veins. ‘It’s been an absolute pleasure meeting you tonight, Ella. I hadn’t expected to enjoy myself so much.’
‘I amuse you?’ Her jaw firmed, her look dared him to laugh at her.
‘That’s not the word I’d use.’ Abruptly his laughter died. His expression was sombre and intent.
‘I don’t want to know.’
His eyebrows arched. ‘You don’t? I hadn’t pegged you for a coward, Ella.’
She shook her head. ‘I’m not afraid of you.’ She was too busy being terrified of the stranger she’d become while she was with him.
‘Good, that will make things so much more enjoyable.’
‘What things?’
He rocked back on his heels. ‘Our relationship.’
‘We don’t have a relationship. I’m going to leave and you’ll spend the rest of the evening enjoying the party.’ It was a test of willpower not to look at the pool terrace, where the laughter had escalated to riotous. He’d be welcomed with open arms. ‘We won’t see each other again.’
The realisation was like a rock plummeting inside her stomach. Despite all tonight’s negatives, Ella felt invigorated, more energised than she had in ages.
‘Why? Do you have a man waiting up for you?’ Donato dragged his hands out of his pockets, his stance widening as he folded his arms across his chest. The movement transformed him from lazy spectator to belligerent adversary. Or maybe it was the way he scowled.
‘There’s no one waiting up for me.’ Ella could have bitten her tongue. He brought out the reckless, unthinking side she usually managed to squash.
‘Excellent. I won’t be stepping on anyone’s toes.’
Ella read his smug expression and her fingers slipped on the damp glass. There was a crash. Water sprayed her bare leg as the glass shattered on the flagstones.
‘Are you okay?’ He stepped forward, so close he stole her air. His hand lifted as if to touch her and something engulfed her—a warmth, a frisson, an unseen shimmer of electrical charge.
‘Fine! I’m fine.’ Ella assumed it was water trickling down her calf, not blood from a tiny cut. She’d look later.
She stepped back, coming up against the stone wall. She swallowed down panic. ‘It’s been a very long day and I’m tired.’ With an effort she kept her words even. ‘Find someone else to play your games.’
Piercing