Ruthless Revenge: Sweet Surrender

CHAPTER THREE

ELLA STARED INTO eyes that held not a whit of humour.

The hairs at her nape rose at the weight of that heavy-lidded regard.

Her, as her sister’s replacement.

For a split second Ella felt triumph, elation at the prospect of being his. Of experiencing all that intensity, not as a curious specimen to be studied but as a lover.

Her gaze slewed to the breadth of those shoulders, the lean strength of the man beneath the exquisite tailoring. What would it feel like being held in those arms?

She reared back, water spilling from her glass.

‘I’m not my sister’s stand-in.’ The words jerked out from her constricting throat.

‘Of course not. You’re a unique individual.’ His smile was all smooth charm. If you didn’t look into those eyes, calculating and aware.

‘Don’t patronise me.’

‘My apologies. I assumed you’d prefer me to be frank.’

‘Of course I do.’ She gripped her glass in both hands.

He watched assessingly. ‘Then let me say nothing appeals more than the prospect of knowing you better.’

There was nothing salacious in his tone, or his expression, yet those words—knowing you—held hidden depth. Knowing as in sexually knowing.

It should have horrified her yet it didn’t.

She wanted him. Here. Now. With an immediacy that overrode every cautious, pragmatic, sensible bone in her body. With a raw hunger that totally disregarded the fact he was caviar and champagne in a crystal flute or perhaps arctic vodka, strong and lethal, while she was brown bread and tea in a good, sturdy pot.

‘Don’t be absurd. We have nothing in common.’

‘I suspect we have a great deal in common, Ella.’ He paused, as if savouring her name. ‘Your father and his business, for instance.’

She spun away, stalking half a dozen steps before turning to face him. He was just as imposing, and smug, from here.

Then, to her dismay, he closed the gap with a couple of easy strides. Annoyance fizzed in her belly.

‘You’re not interested in getting to know me.’ A man like Donato Salazar would want a high-profile trophy wife. Not a plain Jane woman whose feet ached at the end of a long day.

‘I thought we’d already established that you don’t know what goes on inside my head?’

He didn’t look annoyed. Instead he looked...engaged. His tall body canted towards her as if drawn by the same force she felt urging her closer to him.

She stepped back, ignoring the knowing uptilt of those slashing eyebrows.

She understood attraction. Even understood the lure of the dangerous, though she’d always chosen a safer, more prosaic route through life.

Yet she’d never experienced this heat of desire. It saturated her, made her imagine impossible things. Like grabbing Donato’s collar and yanking that proud, scarred face down to hers. She wanted to savour him, lose herself in the passion she knew was hiding below that veneer of polite calm.

His nostrils flared, his chest rising sharp and sudden, as if he’d intercepted her thoughts. His gaze dropped to her mouth.

The night air zapped and thickened.

‘I don’t know anything about you.’

‘But that doesn’t matter, does it?’ His deep voice wove around her. ‘It doesn’t stop what you’re feeling.’

Ella opened her mouth to snap that she felt nothing.

But he was watching keenly, waiting for her to flutter and fuss and deny this awareness between them. She wouldn’t play coy. It would be an admission of fear and showing fear to this man would only invite trouble.

Ella jerked her chin up. ‘I don’t know what sort of women you usually mix with, Donato. But know this. I’m not about to act on impulse with a stranger.’

‘No matter how tempting.’ He gave voice to her thoughts, making her start.

‘What?’ he drawled, his voice like honey and gravel. ‘You think I’m not tempted? You think my hands aren’t itching to slide over your luscious body? To pull you tight against me and feel how well we fit? To taste you?’

The sudden change from amused outsider to consummate seducer slammed her heart against her ribs.

‘You think I’m not tempted to make you acknowledge exactly how much you want me?’

Ella’s breath disintegrated. His gaze flickered to her heaving breasts and fire exploded within. She was burning up and nothing, she suspected, could put out the conflagration except Donato.

The idea appalled as much as it excited her.

She looked at the glass shaking in her too-tight grip. Had her drink been spiked? How she wished she had such an easy excuse.

‘It doesn’t matter what you want, Donato.’ She lifted her head to meet his stare. ‘It’s not going to happen.’

His gaze sharpened and anxiety feathered through her. Too late she pondered the wisdom of declaring an outright challenge. She had a disturbing feeling Donato Salazar thrived on smashing challenges.

‘Never say never, Ella.’

The intensity of his look scared her. Suddenly she felt out of her depth. She wanted to be in her flat, curled up in her pyjamas with a movie and the block of chocolate she’d been saving all week.

‘I want to know you, Ella.’

‘How? Sexually?’ She put her glass down on a nearby table before she dropped it.

‘I like that you say exactly what you think, Ella. It’s refreshing.’

She stuck her hands on her hips and this time she did give in to impulse, stalking a step closer till she realised her mistake and shuddered to a halt. But she refused to backtrack, even though she stood near enough to inhale his heady masculine scent.

‘You’re a slow learner, Donato. I told you not to patronise me.’

He shook his head. ‘I’m just telling you the truth.’ His mouth widened in a smile that drew her belly tight. ‘Do I want your body? Absolutely.’ His gaze dipped then rose again. ‘We’ll be magnificent together.’

No if, just absolute certainty. Where did this man get off, assuming she was his for the taking?

‘But I want more. I want to understand you.’

Of all the things he could have said, of all the things he had said, this was the one that cut her defences off at the knees.

No man had ever wanted to understand her. Not her father, who’d wanted her to be pretty and frivolous and pander to his ego. Not the guys she’d met at long-ago society parties, nor the men she’d dated since.

Longing coursed through her. He was clever, this man, too clever. He really did know what women wanted.

‘Why?’ She tilted her head to one side, wishing she could read him. ‘We’re strangers. And don’t tell me it’s because you think my father’s idea of marrying into this family is a good one. I want the truth.’

Ella held herself tall, ready for Donato’s blast of outrage, conditioned to it after a lifetime dealing with her father’s volatile temperament.

‘You think I’d lie?’

‘Men usually do when they want something.’

‘You don’t have a high opinion of men.’ He looked curious rather than offended. ‘But I applaud your caution.’

‘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 eyes scrutinised her, then Donato nodded and stepped aside to let her pass. Relief stirred.

‘You underestimate me, Ella. I’m not playing games. I’ll call for you in the morning.’

‘Why? There’s no point.’

There was no smile on his features when he answered. ‘To get to know you before the wedding, of course.’

‘Cut it out, Donato. The joke’s over.’ Was that a wobble in her voice? Great. Just great. Ella stalked past.

To her horror he turned, his long stride fitting to hers, his hand hovering at the small of her back. She felt it as surely as if he’d pressed his palm to her spine.

‘I’ll walk you to the house.’

‘I can get there alone.’

‘You’re tired. I’ll keep you company.’

Ella slammed to a halt and a whisper of sensation glanced down her back as his hand skimmed her dress. An instant later he’d stepped back.

It was more than tiredness bothering her. Being back in her father’s house, she had that awful sensation she’d known in her teens, that she was dressing up, pretending to be someone she wasn’t. She’d even grown klutzy again, though she worked with her hands all the time.

Worse, being watched by Donato unnerved her. As for his pretence that he wanted to marry her! That made her burn from the soles of her feet to the tips of her ears.

‘Now you listen!’ She swung around and lifted a hand to jab her index finger into that imposing chest.

To her surprise Donato stepped back before she made contact.

‘Don’t.’ The single word was terse. His face hardened, grew still but for the tic of a pulse at his temple.

‘What?’ He didn’t like her invading his personal space? Tough. She didn’t like being the butt of his joke. She planted her hands on her hips and moved even closer.

‘Not a good idea, Ella.’

‘Why not? You can dish it out but you can’t cope with a woman who stands up to your cruel little games?’ Silly to taste disappointment. For a while there she’d almost believed there was more to Donato.

That proved it. She was tired.

His lips thinned, curling up in a smile unlike either of the ones she’d seen before. This one held no warmth or humour. It was a hunter’s assessing look and it was full of satisfaction. It brought her up sharply, her heart thrumming frantically.

‘On the contrary, Ella.’ His voice slowed to syrup on her name. ‘I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to you standing up against me.’

Dazed, Ella wondered if he too pictured them locked together, she held high in his embrace, her legs around his waist. She swallowed, willing the fiery blush away.

Then she read the tension in his neck and shoulders, in his clenched hands. ‘Don’t try to con me, Donato. You don’t like me being this close to you.’

‘Brave but foolish, Ella.’ He unfurled his hands, stretching his long fingers, and abruptly Ella felt far too close for comfort. ‘I don’t want you near me. I want you against me, skin to skin, with nothing between us. I want to watch you blush, not just with arousal—’ his gaze trawled her heated face ‘—but with ecstasy.’

Her gasp was loud in the throbbing silence.

He breathed deep, his chest rising so high Ella could swear she felt a disturbance in the air, brushing her breasts and drawing her nipples to tight buds. Her body blazed with the fire he’d ignited.

‘I drew back,’ he murmured, ‘because when we do touch, I want us to be alone. So we can finish what we start.’ His eyes were heavy-lidded yet there was nothing lazy about his scrutiny. She felt it in the jangle of her nerves. That only made her angrier.

‘You expect me to believe one touch from me and you wouldn’t be able to control yourself?’ Her eyebrows arched. She wasn’t that naïve, despite the foolish way her body responded. She was no siren, to make men forget themselves.

‘I know neither of us would want to pull back once we...connected.’ He let his words sink in. ‘I also suspect your desire for privacy might be even stronger than mine. Anyone could walk down here and interrupt us.’

He looked around as if searching for a suitable spot for them to get naked together.

‘I don’t believe you.’

His gaze collided with hers. ‘You want to test it?’ His nostrils flared, his eyes gleaming slits. He looked primitive, dangerous, like a warrior daring her to combat.

Her brain screamed a warning and Ella stepped back. The scrape of her heel on the flagstone was unnaturally loud. Even her breathing was amplified, and her pulse, beating that quick tattoo.

‘No, I don’t want to touch you. Not now, not ever.’ Just as well there was no summer thunderstorm tonight or she might have been struck down for the enormity of that lie. ‘I won’t be seeing you again, Donato. Goodbye.’

Squaring her shoulders, half expecting him to stop her, Ella turned and strode along the terrace back towards the bright lights and people.

He let her go. See, it had been easy after all. She’d called Donato’s bluff and that was the end of it.

That was not disappointment she felt. It was relief that she’d never have to see him again.

CHAPTER FOUR

DONATO WATCHED ELLA march away. He’d thought nothing about Reg Sanderson could surprise him. Yet Sanderson’s daughter had stopped him in his tracks.

Ella. He savoured her name.

Perhaps it had been a mistake pulling away from her. Maybe if he hadn’t kept his distance he’d have shattered this illusion that she was different.

Except it would take more than a quickie up against the garden wall to quench what was inside him.

Which, he assured himself, fitted his plans perfectly.

That was what he had to concentrate on. Revenge. He’d always known it would be sweet. With Ella as an added bonus it would be delicious.

He sauntered to the house. There was no one here he wanted to spend time with. Only Ella. Despite her bravado he’d read her fear. Sensible woman. But he’d allay those fears and ensure she enjoyed their time together.

He’d stopped to tell a waiter about the broken glass on the lower level when Sanderson appeared. His pale eyes looked almost febrile, belying his casual stance. Satisfaction stirred. This had been a long time coming. Too long. He intended to enjoy every moment of Sanderson’s descent into ruin.

‘All alone, Donato?’ He scowled. ‘Where’s that girl of mine? Don’t tell me she’s left you alone?’

‘Ella was tired.’

‘Tired? I’ll give her tired!’ he roared. ‘I—’

‘It’s better she gets her sleep tonight.’ Donato kept his voice bland though he wanted to grab Sanderson by the scruff of his neck and shake him till his teeth rattled.

Because Donato hated him with every fibre of his being? Or because of the way he spoke of Ella? Didn’t the man realise how precious family was? Had he no concept of protecting his child against a man whom everyone knew was as implacable and dangerous as they came?

What sort of man sold his daughter to a stranger?

Donato already knew the answer. Reg Sanderson. The bastard had already destroyed too many lives.

It would be a public service as well as a pleasure to see he got his just deserts.

Darkness engulfed him. No, Donato wouldn’t see him dead, which was what he deserved. Donato had come close to killing once and he’d learned a lot since then. This way was better. Sanderson’s suffering would be drawn out.

‘She should have stayed here, with you. I apologise.’

Donato raised his hand. ‘It doesn’t matter. I’ll see her tomorrow.’

‘You will?’ The older man’s expression stilled. ‘So, you’re interested? In Ella?’ Was that barely concealed shock in his voice? Sanderson had no notion what a gem his daughter was. The man was blind as well as deplorable.

Donato had seen the photos of Ella’s sister, a golden girl with obvious allure. Yet if he really sought a bride he wouldn’t choose Felicity Sanderson. If reports were accurate, she hadn’t a loyal bone in her body.

Did Ella really believe her sister would stick with this new lover, or did she merely try to protect her from the danger he, Donato, represented?

The idea of her protecting anyone from him was ludicrous, given his far superior power and resources. Yet the notion stuck and he filed it away for future consideration.

‘It was a delight meeting someone so refreshing and intelligent.’ Forthright and clever enough to be suspicious, Ella had intrigued from the instant she’d looked at him.

Sanderson didn’t quite hide his satisfaction. His smile was hungry. ‘It’s wonderful you hit it off so well. I’d hoped you would. There’s no telling with Ella; sometimes she can be a little...’

‘A little...?’

Sanderson shrugged and took a swig of his drink. ‘To be frank, she can be a little outspoken sometimes. But in a good way, of course. Refreshing, as you say.’

He smiled that conspiratorial smile as if they were good buddies and Donato had to repress the compulsion to slam his fist into the other man’s whiter than white capped teeth. He’d done a lot of things in his time, some of them society had labelled reprehensible. But nothing that sickened him like playing Sanderson’s temporary friend.

‘I prefer honesty to polite platitudes.’ Especially when those platitudes hid murky secrets.

‘Don’t we all?’

‘Meeting your daughter has helped me feel I know you better. That’s important if we’re to work together.’

‘I thought you’d see it that way.’ Sanderson paused, then said carefully, ‘So, you want to proceed with the partnership and the loan?’ His absolute stillness gave him away. He was strung tight.