One Christmas Night In...: A Night in the Palace / A Christmas Night to Remember / Texas Tycoon's Christmas Fiancée. HELEN BROOKSЧитать онлайн книгу.
her annoyance at him. ‘And if you’ve brought me here with some idea of asking my family to pay a ransom before releasing me, then I think I should tell you that my brother—my only living relative—is as poor as I am!’
‘Indeed?’ Those sculptured features had taken on a harsh and intimidating expression.
‘Yes,’ Lily said with satisfaction. ‘Now, just tell me who you are, and what it is you want.’
He gave a slow, disbelieving shake of his head. ‘You really do not have any idea, do you?’
‘I know one thing—which is that I’m becoming increasingly irritated at your delaying tactics.’ Her hands were tightly clenched at her sides. ‘I also know I have every intention of going to the police and reporting this incident as soon as I’m released from here.’
His eyebrows quirked. ‘Then it would seem not to be in my best interests to release you, wouldn’t it?’
Lily had realised that as soon as the threat left her lips! ‘I don’t think my request for you to tell me who you are and where I am is unreasonable.’
‘Not at all,’ he drawled. ‘I am Count Dmitri Scarletti, Miss Barton.’ The darkness of his hair shone blue-black as he gave a terse nod of greeting. ‘And you are currently standing in the courtyard of the Palazzo Scarletti.’ Oh.
Her brother’s employer.
The same man who’d arranged for her to be looked after so well up until now.
And Lily had just repaid him by hurling accusations of kidnap and threats of arrest at him!
CHAPTER TWO
IF the circumstances had been any different then Dmitri might have been amused by the stunned dismay on Giselle Barton’s delicately lovely face as she digested what he had just revealed to her. As it was, the present circumstances were such that he couldn’t find any humour in anything a single member of the Barton family did or said. Even one as unexpectedly lovely as Giselle had proved to be …
Dmitri didn’t take his gaze off her as he descended the staircase, sure that he had never seen hair of quite that colour and silky texture before—so pale a blond that it shimmered silver in the sunlight, and of such a length and thickness that it would tempt a man into winding it about his fingers as he pulled her ever closer …
Her eyes, stormy at the moment, were nevertheless the colour of the sky on a clear summer’s day, her nose was small and straight above a perfect bow of a mouth that had surely been designed for a man to kiss and savour, and her chin was small and stubbornly pointed as she frowned at him.
He couldn’t see her figure properly beneath the bulky jacket she wore over a blue sweater, but her legs were slender and yet shapely in the fitted and faded jeans, and her feet appeared small even in those unbecoming boots she was wearing. Yes, Giselle Barton was far lovelier than Dmitri had anticipated. Or particularly wished for.
At thirty-six years of age he knew that over the years he had acquired something of a reputation—both in business and in his personal life. He was a man, in fact, who publicly always had a beautiful woman clinging to his arm. A man who, under different circumstances, would have found this woman’s ethereal beauty and air of independence something of a challenge. As it was, he had far more important things to concern himself with than her surprising and delicate loveliness. Indeed, her undoubted beauty was a complication he could well have done without!
The slenderness of her throat moved as she swallowed before speaking. ‘I— You— It would seem that I owe you an apology, Count Scarletti.’ The blush on her cheeks was obviously caused by embarrassment now. ‘I simply had no idea—your chauffeur gave me no explanation—’
‘He was instructed not to do so,’ Dmitri interjected.
Those sky-blue eyes widened as she looked up at him uncertainly. He stood only feet away from her now, and the top of her silver-blond head didn’t even reach up to his wide shoulders.
‘He was?’
‘Yes,’ he confirmed as bent down to pick up her battered suitcase before straightening and walking towards the palazzo. ‘If you would like to follow me, I have some hot refreshment waiting for you inside.’
No doubt this seriously attractive man could crook a finger and she would follow him anywhere, Lily acknowledged disgustedly. Except he hadn’t even attempted to do that; he just expected—no, demanded—that Lily follow him inside.
Having already made something of a fool of herself today, Lily had no intention of continuing to do so. She made no effort to follow him, but instead made a demand of her own. ‘Where’s Felix?’
Those broad shoulders stiffened beneath that perfectly tailored jacket as the Count came to an abrupt halt in the doorway. He slowly turned to look at her, heavy lids narrowed over the eyes Lily had discovered only seconds ago were, in fact, a pale and unfathomable green. A pale and mesmerising green, actually. As mesmerising, in fact, as the rest of him.
Up close—if not personal!—Lily could see that he was younger than she had first thought—probably aged somewhere in his mid to late thirties—with a ruthless cast to those wickedly handsome features that must make him formidable in the business world, and pretty scary in his personal life too. She certainly wouldn’t like to find herself on the wrong side of him …
He looked down the long length of his aristocratic nose at her. ‘That is an interesting question.’
Lily gave a start. ‘It is?’ A frown appeared between her eyes. ‘Has something happened to him?’ She walked quickly across the courtyard to look questioningly into Count Scarletti’s face. ‘Please don’t say he’s been involved in a accident!’ As she had already discovered, driving in Italy could be seriously hazardous to your health!
Dark brows rose over those cold and narrowed eyes. ‘The answer to your questions would appear to be, I have no idea and not yet,’ he rasped, with a chilling softness that sent a shiver of apprehension down her spine.
‘But—I don’t understand!’ Lily had to take two steps to one of his much longer strides as he stepped into the cool hallway of the palazzo.
She faltered slightly, totally overwhelmed by her surroundings as she took in the magnificence of the marble floor and cut-glass chandelier hanging down from a cavernous ceiling overhead, the antique furnishings and obviously original paintings on the walls adding to the air of wealth and grandeur.
And it was so quiet—not a sound to be heard except the echo of their footsteps as Lily belatedly followed the Count as he walked down the marble hallway before disappearing into a room at the end of the long corridor.
Admittedly this was a huge house—palace!—and as far as Lily knew only Count Scarletti and his sister, Claudia, lived here, but even so surely there should be a feeling of there being other people in the house? Servants to keep such a huge house clean and dust-free? Others preparing this evening’s dinner for their padrone and his young sister? Instead there was just a hollow, eerie silence …
Lily hurried to follow the Count down the hallway, and into the room—only to come to an abrupt halt just inside the door as she found herself in a room so elegantly beautiful it made her gasp softly in awe. The walls were gleaming white, with gold—real gold leaf?—picking out the intricacies of the cornices and scrollwork, and another beautiful glass chandelier hung from the middle of the ceiling. A deep blue Aubusson carpet covered most of the marble floor space, and the furniture was obviously from the early nineteenth century—delicate and lovely, with numerous expensive china figurines adorning it. Yet more original paintings were on the walls, and huge, almost floor-length windows looked out onto the magnificence of Rome’s skyline.
And in the midst of all this elegance stood Count Scarletti, very tall and imposing, beside an ornate fireplace in which a fire crackled and flamed, adding a warmth to this beautiful room that Lily felt was singularly lacking in its master.