Sweet Revenge: The Martinez Marriage Revenge / The Italian Billionaire's Ruthless Revenge / The Kouros Marriage Revenge. JACQUELINE BAIRDЧитать онлайн книгу.
almost black eyes which projected the hardness of a man well-versed in the frailty of human nature.
There was an aura of power and intense masculinity apparent, together with a dangerous ruthlessness that boded ill for any adversary.
He was linked to Spanish nobility, with a personal wealth that placed him high on a list of the European rich.
And it showed … as he meant it to do, from the Armani tailoring, hand-stitched Italian shoes, to the fine Rolex at his wrist.
The long flight had done little to ease the anger simmering beneath his control. The luxuriously fitted Gulf Stream privately owned jet offered every comfort, geared with the latest technology enabling him to have an essential office in the sky.
Although he’d worked, studying print-outs, graphs and data, checked his BlackBerry and kept in touch with Sandro … he hadn’t been able to switch off and sleep.
Something he usually achieved at will, given the comfortable bed situated with its own en suite at the rear of the jet.
Instead he was plagued by a young woman’s image, startlingly vivid and recently taken via camera phone.
Shannay Martinez … née Robbins.
And his daughter.
The before and after shots.
The first serene, happy and loving. Mother and child, laughing.
In the second image, the child’s expression remained the same. His estranged wife’s features, however, mirrored shock and something else …
The innate knowledge life as she’d known it since leaving Spain was about to change?
Without doubt.
A muscle bunched at the edge of his jaw as he exited the terminal’s automatic glass doors and stepped into a limousine waiting at the kerb.
The chauffeur stowed his bags in the boot and moved up front to slide in behind the wheel.
Marcello barely noticed the passing scene beyond the tinted windows as the limousine left the airport and began picking up speed en route to the city.
A child.
Anger, barely held in control since Sandro’s enlightening phone call, rose to the surface.
How dared Shannay keep him in ignorance of the child’s existence? His initial reaction had been to instruct his pilot to ready the Gulf Stream jet for an immediate flight to Australia.
Instead, he’d delegated with icy calm, consulted his legal team and planned his strategy.
Tomorrow he intended to bring it into play.
Marcello’s suite in the inner-city hotel offered first-class luxury, and with practised ease he shrugged off his jacket, discarded his tie, organised his unpacking and settled down to peruse the report handed to him on check-in.
The private-investigation resource he’d utilised had done a good job. The document revealed a detailed listing of Shannay’s movements over the past few days, her address, unlisted telephone number, the make, model and registration of her car, place of work, Nicki’s kindergarten facility.
Details which filled in some of the blanks, and revealed she hadn’t touched so much as a cent of the money he’d initially deposited into a bank account bearing her name. Or the amount he’d contributed each month since.
He wanted to shake her, and would have if she’d been within reach.
What was she trying to prove?
Something he already knew.
His family connections, his wealth and social status had never impressed her.
She’d fallen into his life, literally, he mused, recalling the moment the fine heel of one of her stilettos had become caught in a metal grating and had pitched her against him on a busy city street in the heart of Madrid.
He’d been unprepared for the instantaneous physical chemistry … and an instinctive need to lengthen contact with her.
They’d shared coffee in a nearby upmarket café, exchanged cellphone numbers … and the rest was history. Marcello closed the report and crossed to the wide expanse of double-glazed glass offering a brilliant view of the Swan river.
The sky provided an azure backdrop to tall city buildings, selected greenery … a colourful panoramic pictorial, he noted absently, reminding him of a similar visit a few brief years ago when his ring on Shannay’s finger had claimed her as his wife.
A time when they couldn’t get enough of each other, and had rarely spent a moment apart.
Marcello felt his body tighten at the memory of all that they’d shared. Her uninhibited enthusiasm, her laughter, her passion.
His own libidinous response and loss of control.
Something he’d never experienced with another woman to the same degree.
Or in any other area of his life.
He held a reputation in the business arena for icy calm in any volatile situation. A trait which earned him the respect of his contemporaries.
With a slow roll of his shoulders he turned away from the plate-glass window and checked his watch.
It had been a long flight, crossing countries, entering another time zone and the need to adjust to it.
Stroking several punishing laps in the hotel pool, followed by a session in the gym, would help iron out any kinks and ease the tension.
With that in mind he keyed a text message to Carlo, then he shed his clothes, donned swimming trunks, shrugged on a complimentary robe, caught up a towel, essentials, and took the lift to the appropriate floor.
An hour and a half later, showered and dressed in a formal business suit, he walked out into the late-afternoon sunshine, stepped into his chauffeured limousine and instructed the driver to deliver him to a mid-town address.
The highly qualified Perth-based lawyer engaged by Marcello’s legal team to represent his Australian interests confirmed certain legalities, offered assurances and advice on procedure, and the consultation concluded at the close of the business day.
On his return to the hotel he shed his jacket and tie, ordered a meal from Room Service, connected his laptop to the internet and engaged a link to his Madrid office.
Shannay crouched down to Nicki’s eye level and caught her close, whispered “Love you”, and heard her daughter’s “Love you back”, then she rose fluidly to her full height and smoothed a gentle hand over Nicki’s head.
‘Have a fun day.’
Kindergarten was carefully structured, mostly fun and, importantly, Nicki loved spending time with the other children as they moved from play-dough to finger-painting, played games and listened to stories read by one of the carers.
‘You, too.’
Nicki happily moved to her place on the mat and Shannay hid a soft smile as Nicki engaged in animated chatter with one of her friends.
Time to leave, get into her car and head home. There were phone calls and household chores to complete before returning to collect her daughter.
A short while later she exchanged fitted jeans and tailored shirt for shorts and a cropped top, then she set to work.
Dusting, mopping and polishing helped Shannay expend some nervous energy, and she wielded the vacuum cleaner with zealous speed.
Another five minutes and she’d be done, then she’d hit the shower, dress, make the few calls and head off to Nicki’s kindergarten facility.
The ring of the in-house phone was barely audible above the sound of the vacuum cleaner, and she shut it down, then she crossed the room and tamped down a strange prickling sense of foreboding … which was