Tempted by her billionaire protector...

Traveling to a dangerous Caribbean island to continue her late brother’s charitable work, Francesca Pellegrini finds herself under the protection of security tycoon Felipe Lorenzi. Independent Francesca is infuriated by his commands, but Felipe’s every look invites her to give up her innocence to him...

With his body and heart as hard as stone after his military career, Felipe has no time for Francesca’s seductive games. Until this captivating young woman entices him beyond all measure, and this lone wolf decides to throw away his strict rules and take her as his own!

Electricity shot between them, so real Felipe could almost hear the crackle. It heated him too, making tiny jolts bounce on his skin, his heart thrum...

His hand rose of its own volition, his fingers stretching towards Francesca.

A throb of need burst through him, so powerful he had to dig his feet into the floor to stop himself from hauling her into his arms.

‘You are not leaving this suite.’ His speech was long, drawn-out, ragged.

‘I’m not staying with someone who can barely look at me and gets irritated every time I open my mouth.’

Without him knowing how it had happened his fingers closed around the delicate wrists. A moment later he’d pulled her to him so their bodies were flush, her breasts pressed against his chest.

‘I don’t dislike you,’ he ground out, gazing down at the spitting eyes, the luminous skin, the lips that begged to be kissed... ‘Don’t you see that? I like you too much.’

For long, long moments they did nothing but stare at each other, until the anger that blazed so brightly in her eyes softened to blaze with something that struck straight into his loins.

Bound to a Billionaire

Claimed by the most powerful of men!

Felipe Lorenzi, Matteo Manaserro and Daniele Pellegrini.

Three powerful billionaires who want for nothing—in business or in bed. But nothing and no one can touch their closely guarded hearts.

That is until Francesca, Natasha and Eva are each bound to a billionaire...and prove to be a challenge these delicious alpha males can’t resist!

Don’t miss Michelle Smart’s stunning trilogy

Read Felipe and Francesca’s story in

Protecting His Defiant Innocent

Available now!

Look out for

Matteo and Natasha’s story in

Claiming His One-Night Baby

September 2017

and

Daniele and Eva’s story in

Buying His Bride of Convenience

October 2017

Protecting His Defiant Innocent

Michelle Smart

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MICHELLE SMART’s love affair with books started when she was a baby, and she would cuddle them in her cot. A voracious reader of all genres, she found her love of romance established when she stumbled across her first Mills & Boon book at the age of twelve. She’s been reading and writing them ever since. Michelle lives in Northamptonshire with her husband, and two young Smarties.

Books by Michelle Smart

Mills & Boon Modern Romance

Once a Moretti Wife

The Perfect Cazorla Wife

The Russian’s Ultimatum

The Rings That Bind

Brides for Billionaires

Married for the Greek’s Convenience

One Night With Consequences

Claiming His Christmas Consequence

Wedlocked!

Wedded, Bedded, Betrayed

The Kalliakis Crown

Talos Claims His Virgin

Theseus Discovers His Heir

Helios Crowns His Mistress

Society Weddings

The Greek’s Pregnant Bride

The Irresistible Sicilians

What a Sicilian Husband Wants

The Sicilian’s Unexpected Duty

Taming the Notorious Sicilian

Visit the Author Profile page

at millsandboon.co.uk for more titles.

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This is for Nicky,

the best friend a girl could wish for. xxx

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Bound to a Billionaire

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

‘ARE YOU WITH ME?’ Francesca Pellegrini tightened her ponytail and glared at the two men sitting opposite her in the small draughty room of the family castle. ‘Will we work together and build the hospital in Pieta’s memory?’

Daniele threw his hands in the air. ‘Do we have to discuss this now, in the middle of his wake?’

‘I am talking about building an enduring legacy for our brother,’ she reminded him crossly.

Francesca had known Daniele and Matteo would need a little convincing but had complete faith she would get their agreement. Hurricane Igor had decimated the Caribbean island of Caballeros only ten days ago. Twenty thousand people had died and the island had been left with only seven working hospitals for a population of eight million. Pieta, the eldest of the Pellegrini siblings, had seen the devastation on the news and had sprung straight into action in the way she had always so admired.

Despite running an international law firm, he’d always looked at practical ways to help those suffering at the hands of natural disasters, donating money, hosting fundraisers and getting his hands dirty. He’d been famed and honoured for his philanthropy and she’d been so proud to call herself his sister. She could hardly believe she would never see him again, his life cut short when his helicopter crashed in thick fog.

‘I’m not asking you for the moon,’ she continued, ‘I’m asking you to put your skills into building the hospital Pieta was planning for a country that has lost everything and to do it in our brother’s memory.’ Daniele earned a fortune—he’d just taken delivery of a brand-new yacht!—but what good did he do with it? Who did her brother serve other than the god of money?

Francesca knew she was being unfair to the brother who’d always doted on her but what did it matter? Pieta was dead and the only thing she could focus on to endure the pain was continuing with his plan and thus continuing his legacy.

‘I’m not saying it’s a bad idea,’ he snapped back. ‘Just that we shouldn’t be rushing into anything. There are security concerns for a start.’

‘The country has been flattened. The only concerns are dysentery and cholera.’

‘Don’t be so naïve. It’s one of the most dangerous and corrupt countries in the world and you want me to send my men to work there and for Matteo to send his staff there.’

Matteo Manaserro, their cousin, owned private medical clinics across the western world, performing vanity services for people who refused to age gracefully. He’d also launched a range of youth enhancing products that had made him world famous and as rich as Croesus. Francesca’s mother was an enthusiastic wearer of the entire range and swore she’d only had a couple of nips and tucks since using them. Pieta had often said Matteo could have been one of the greatest and most eminent surgeons in the world but that he’d thrown it away in the pursuit of money, just like Daniele.

‘I’m travelling to Caballeros tomorrow. I’ll confirm myself that your security fears are unfounded,’ she informed him without dropping her stare.

Daniele’s face went the colour of puce. ‘You are not.’

‘I am. It’s all arranged. Pieta had already earmarked the site to build the hospital on and put aside money for it and arranged meetings with government officials and...’

‘You’re not going. You don’t have the authority for a start.’

‘Yes, I do.’ She played her trump card. ‘Natasha’s given me written authority to act as her representative as Pieta’s next of kin.’

Her sister-in-law, who had sat in on the meeting like a mute ghost, looked vaguely startled to hear her name mentioned. Francesca knew she’d taken advantage of her fragile state of mind to get the authority but squashed her conscience. This was Pieta’s legacy and she would do anything to achieve it. She had to.

Maybe if she finished what Pieta had started her guilt-ravaged dreams would stop.

I’m so sorry, Pieta. I didn’t mean it. You were the best of us and I loved you. Forgive me, please.

‘It’s not safe!’ Daniele slammed his hand so hard on the old oak table that even Matteo flinched.

But Francesca was beyond listening to reason. She knew it but could do nothing about it, like a child thrown into the deep end of a pool and needing to use its limited strength to swim to the shallows. That’s how she felt; that she needed to reach the shallows to find forgiveness.

‘Come with me and keep me safe if you’re that concerned. That hospital will be built with or without you even if I have to build it myself.’

Daniele looked ready to explode. Maybe he would have done if Matteo hadn’t sighed, raised his hand in the gesture of peace, leaned forward and said, ‘You can count me in. I’ll work with Daniele, if he agrees, on how the basic set-up should work, and when the construction’s complete I’ll personally come in and get it up and running, but only for a month and only because I loved Pieta.’

‘Excellent.’ If her cheeks had been able to curve upwards, Francesca would have smiled.

‘But I agree with Daniele that security is a major concern. You’re underestimating how dangerous Caballeros can be. I suggest we bring Felipe in.’

Daniele straightened like a poker. He looked at Matteo and nodded slowly. ‘Yes. I can go with that. He’ll be able to keep Francesca safe when she’s ordering dictators around and protect any staff we hire for it.’

‘Wait, wait, wait,’ Francesca interjected. ‘Who is this Felipe?’

‘Felipe Lorenzi is a Spanish security expert. Pieta used his services many times.’

‘I’ve never heard of him.’ She supposed this wasn’t very surprising. She’d only started her traineeship in Pieta’s law firm a few months before, after graduating. Up until his death she’d never had any direct involvement in his private philanthropy.

‘He’s ex-Spanish Special Forces,’ Matteo explained. ‘He set up his own business providing security to businesses and individuals who need to travel to places most right minded people run away from and earned a fortune with it. Pieta thought very highly of him and I imagine he would have brought him in to act as security for this project if he’d...’

If he’d lived.

‘Then we bring him in,’ Francesca said after a pause she could see was painful for all of them. She would never admit it but the thought of travelling alone to Caballeros did scare her a little. She’d never travelled alone before. But she would be brave, just as Pieta had always been. ‘But I don’t need a babysitter.’

‘You might have to wait a few days for him to organise his men,’ Matteo said, ‘but whoever he sends will be ex-special forces like himself and trained to handle any situation.’

‘I can’t wait,’ she told them. ‘I’m not being difficult but I have a meeting set up about the sale of the land tomorrow. If I cancel it, I don’t know when they’ll let me rearrange it for. We can’t afford any delays.’

The whole project rested on her getting the sale of the land agreed. Without it there would be no hospital and no legacy. She had to get that land.

Daniele’s eyes flashed on her. ‘And you can’t afford to take risks.’

‘Pieta did,’ she informed him defiantly. ‘I can decide for myself what risks I’m willing to take and personally I think the risks are exaggerated.’

‘You what...?’

The fight between them was diffused by Matteo raising another hand for peace. ‘Francesca, we both understand how much you want to honour Pieta’s memory—we all want to—but you need to understand we are only concerned for your safety. Felipe has a large network of men working for him, I’m sure it won’t be a problem for him to put something in place for your arrival in Caballeros tomorrow.’

She caught the warning look he gave Daniele.

Daniele must have understood whatever the look meant for he nodded shrewdly before turning his attention back to her. ‘You will do whatever they tell you. You are not to place yourself at unnecessary risk, is that understood?’

‘Does this mean you’re in?’

He sighed. ‘Yes. I’m in. Can we return to the rest of our family now? Our mother needs us.’

Francesca nodded. The cramping in her chest loosened a little. She’d got everything she’d wanted from them and now she wanted to find her mother and hold her tight. ‘To summarise, I’ll take care of the legal side, Daniele takes care of the construction and Matteo takes care of the medical side. What about you, Natasha? Do you want to handle publicity for it?’

Although only married to Pieta for a year, they’d been engaged for six years and she’d thought her shy sister-in-law should have the chance be involved if she wanted. Publicity was important. Publicity brought donations and awareness.

Natasha shrugged her slim shoulders. ‘I can do that,’ she whispered.

‘Then we are done.’ Francesca got to her feet and rolled her shoulders, trying to ease the tension in them. Knowing she had Daniele and Matteo onside meant she could now, for one night only, mourn the brother she had loved.

From tomorrow, the hard work began.

* * *

Francesca clumped up the steps of the jet, shades on to keep the glare of the sun from her bleary eyes, to be greeted by the sombre flight crew. Her brother had been a man to inspire devotion and loyalty from his staff, and their obvious grief touched her.

If her heart didn’t feel so heavy and her brain so tired from all the wine she’d drunk and the two hours of sleep she’d managed to snatch in the freezing room she’d always slept in when they’d stayed at the castle in her childhood, she would be excited to be on Pieta’s personal jet. She’d never been in it before and it saddened her that now she would never travel in it with him.

The document Natasha had signed gave her carte blanche to do whatever was needed and use whatever resources were necessary from Pieta’s foundation and personal estate for the project. She knew Daniele was angry with her for taking advantage of Natasha’s fragile state and she did feel guilt for it but honestly, if she’d asked Natasha to sign over her house, car and bank account to her, she would have done so with the same glassy-eyed look. Before leaving the wake Francesca had pulled Matteo to one side and asked him to keep an eye on her. Matteo was more than just a cousin to them. He’d lived with them since he was thirteen and, being the same age as Pieta, had been his closest friend. Like the rest of the world, he’d been devoted to him. He would look out for Natasha.

Francesca was led into the main area of the jet, which was as luxurious as she’d imagined but before she had a chance to take it all in, she was startled to find a man sat on one of the plush leather chairs, a laptop open on the foldaway desk that covered what she could see were enormously long legs.

She stopped in her tracks.

Not expecting to be travelling with anyone, she glanced from the stewardess, who showed no surprise at his presence, back to the stranger before her.

The darkest brown eyes set in the most handsome face she had ever seen stared back.

Her breath caught in her throat.

It seemed as if an age passed before he spoke. ‘You must be Francesca.’

The English was spoken with a heavy accent and from firm, generous lips that didn’t even hint at a smile.

She blinked herself back to the present, realising she’d been staring at him. ‘And you are?’

‘Felipe Lorenzi.’

‘You’re Felipe?’

When Matteo and Daniele had spoken of the ex-special forces man she’d formed a mental image of a thuggish squat man with a shaven head and a body crammed with tattoos who wore nothing but grubby khaki trousers and black T-shirts.

This man was something else entirely. This man had a headful of thick hair that was darker even than his eyes and touched the collar of his crisp white shirt, which he wore with an immaculate and obviously expensive light grey suit with matching waistcoat and thin green checked tie.

He raised a brow. ‘Were you expecting someone else?’

Unsettled for reasons she couldn’t begin to decipher, Francesca took the seat opposite him, fighting her eyes’ desire to stare and stare and stare some more.

‘I wasn’t expecting anyone.’ She pulled the seat belt across her lap, doing her utmost to sound together and confident and unaffected by his presence. ‘I was told I’d be meeting one of your men in Caballeros.’

Daniele and Matteo had made the arrangements, working their phones like a whirlwind throughout the wake to ensure there would be protection for her when she arrived on the island. She’d hadn’t been told to expect company on her flight. If she had she’d have made an effort with her appearance, not thrown on the first clothes that had come to hand. She hadn’t had time for a shower or even to moisturise her face.

The face that stared back didn’t moisturise, she thought, feeling rather dizzy. This face was intensely, masculinely beautiful. But battle-hardened. This was a face that had seen sights the horrors of which were etched in the lines around his eyes and mouth, in the bump on the bridge of his strong nose and in the white flecks in the thick untamed beard that covered his jaw. This man had an aura of danger about him that sent thrills she couldn’t understand racing through her bloodstream.

‘Caballeros isn’t stable. It isn’t wise to go there without protection.’ Especially not for a woman such as this, Felipe thought. He would have risen to shake her hand but her appearance had thrown him.

Both the Pellegrini brothers were handsome so it was to be expected that their younger sister would be good looking too. He hadn’t expected her to be so truculently sexy, in tight ripped jeans, a billowing white blouse, and glittery thongs on her small, pretty feet.

‘I didn’t know it would be you personally,’ she explained warily. ‘I was under the impression you supplied the men to undertake the protection.’

‘That is the case but there are times, such as this, when I undertake it myself.’

In the years he’d provided protection for Pieta on his philanthropic missions he’d got to know the man well. Throughout his career Felipe had dealt with death and loss many times; had almost become inured to it. The shock of Pieta’s death had hit him harder than he would have expected. He’d been an exceptional man, intelligent and for all his daring, naturally cautious. He’d known how to handle situations.

Felipe had been propped at a hotel bar in the Middle East drinking the malt whiskey Pieta had liked in his memory when both Daniele and Matteo had called to say Pieta’s little sister was travelling to Caballeros, a country quickly descending into anarchy, first thing in the morning, and that nothing they said would deter or delay her. He’d known immediately that he owed it to the great man to protect his sister himself and had set into action. Within ten hours he was in Pisa, showered, changed and sat on Pieta’s jet. The only thing he hadn’t had time for was a shave.

Francesca removed her shades and folded them into her handbag. When she looked at him, he experienced another, more powerful jolt.

Her height was the only thing average about her. Everything else about her was extraordinary, from the sheet of glossy black hair that hung the length of her back to the wide, kissable lips and clear olive skin. The only flaw on her features were her eyes, which were so red raw and puffy it was hard to distinguish the light brown colour of her pupils.

She’d buried her brother only the day before.

He recalled Daniele’s warning about her state of mind. This was a woman on the edge.

‘I was very sorry to hear about Pieta’s death,’ he said quietly.

‘Not sorry enough to attend his funeral,’ she replied archly although there was the slightest tremor in her hoarse voice. Hoarse from crying, he suspected.

‘Work comes first. He would have understood.’ On his next visit to Europe he intended to visit Pieta’s grave and lay a wreath for him.

‘You were able to juggle your work commitments to be here now.’

‘I did,’ he agreed. He’d had to pull a senior member of his staff away from his holiday to take over the job he’d been overseeing to make it to Pisa on time for the flight. ‘Caballeros is a dangerous place.’

‘Just so we’re clear, you work for me,’ she said in the impeccable English all the Pellegrinis spoke. ‘My sister-in-law has given me written authority to represent her as Pieta’s next of kin on this project.’

Felipe contemplated her through narrowed eyes. There had been a definite challenge in that husky tone.

‘How old are you?’ At thirty-six he was a year older than Pieta, the eldest of the three Pellegrini siblings. He recalled Francesca once being referred to as the ‘happy accident’.

‘I’m twenty-three.’ She raised her chin, daring him to make something of her youth.

‘Almost an old woman,’ he mocked. He hadn’t realised she was that young and now he did know he was doubly glad he’d disrupted his schedule to be there as her protection. He would have guessed at mid-twenties. Sure, only a few years older than her actual age but those years were often the most formative of an adult’s life. His had been. They’d been the best of his life, right until the hostage situation that had culminated in the loss of his best friend and a bullet in his leg that had seen him medically discharged from the job he loved at only twenty-six.

She glared at him. ‘I might be young but I am not stupid. You don’t need to patronise me.’

‘Age isn’t linked to intelligence,’ he conceded. ‘What countries have you travelled to?’

‘I’ve been to many countries.’

‘With your family on holiday?’ Francesca’s father, Fabio Pellegrini, had been a descendant of the old Italian royal family. The Pellegrinis had long eschewed their royal titles but still owned a sprawling Tuscan estate near Pisa and had immense wealth. Vanessa Pellegrini, the matriarch, also came from old money. None of Vanessa or Fabio’s children had ever wanted for anything. When Felipe compared it to his own humble upbringing the contrast couldn’t be starker.

‘Yes,’ she said defiantly. ‘I’ve visited most of Europe, the Americas and Australia. I would consider myself well-travelled.’

‘And which of these many countries have been on a war footing?’

‘Caballeros isn’t on a war footing.’

‘Not yet. In which of those countries was sanitation a problem?’

‘I’ve got water-purifying tablets in my luggage.’

He hid a smile. She thought she had all the answers but didn’t have a clue what she’d be walking into. ‘That would make all the difference but you won’t be needing them.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because you’re not staying in Caballeros. I’ve booked you into a hotel in Aguadilla.’ Aguadilla was a Spanish-Caribbean island relatively close to Caballeros but spared by the hurricane and as safe a country as there was in this dangerous world.

‘You did what?’

‘I cancelled the shack you’d been booked into in San Pedro,’ he continued as if she hadn’t spoken, referring to the Caballeron capital. ‘We’ve a Cessna in place to fly you between the islands for all your meetings.’

Her cheeks flushed with angry colour. ‘You had no right to do that. That shack was where Pieta was going to stay.’

‘And he would have hired my firm for protection. He wasn’t a fool. You’re a vulnerable woman...’

‘I am not.’

‘Look at yourself through Caballeron eyes. You’re young, rich and beautiful and, like it or not, you’re a woman...’

‘I’m not rich!’

‘Your family is rich. Caballeros is the sixth most dangerous country in the world. Things were bad enough when the people had roofs over their heads. Now they have lost everything and they are angry. You will have a price on your head the second you set foot on their soil.’

‘But I’m going to build them a hospital.’

‘And many of them will be grateful. Like all the Caribbean islands it’s full of wonderful, hospitable people but Caballeros has always had a dangerous underbelly and more military coups than any other country since it gained its independence from Spain. Guns and drugs are rife, the police and politicians are corrupt, and that was before Hurricane Igor destroyed their infrastructure and killed thousands of their population.’

It was a long time before Francesca spoke. In that time she stared at him with eyes that spat fire.

‘I was already aware of the risks,’ she said tremulously. ‘It’s why I agreed for your firm to be hired to protect me. Not babysit me. You had no right to change my arrangements. No right at all. I will pay you the full amount but I don’t want your services any more. Take your things and get off the plane. I’m terminating our contract.’

He’d been told she would react like this. Both Daniele and Matteo had warned him of her fiery nature and fierce independent streak, which her grief for Pieta had compounded. That’s why Daniele had taken the steps he had, to protect Francesca from herself.

‘I’m sorry to tell you this but you’re not in a position to fire me.’ He gave a nonchalant shrug, followed by an even more nonchalant yawn. Dios, he was tired. He hadn’t slept in two days and could do without the explosion he was certain was about to occur. ‘Your sister-in-law has made an addendum to the authority she gave you. If at any time I report that you’re not following my advice with regard to your safety, her authority is revoked and the project disbanded.’

CHAPTER TWO

THE SHOCK ON Francesca’s face was priceless. ‘Natasha did that? Natasha?’

‘At Daniele’s request. I understand he wanted her to cancel the authority altogether. This was their compromise.’ As he spoke, the aeroplane hurtled down the runway and lifted into the air.

Now her features twisted into outrage. ‘The dirty, underhanded...’

‘Your brother and all your family are worried about you. They think you’re too emotional and impulsive to get this done without falling into trouble. I am here to keep you out of trouble.’ He leaned forward and spoke clearly. He needed her to understand that this wasn’t a game and that he meant everything he said. ‘I have no wish to be a tyrant but if you push me or behave rashly or take any risks I believe to be unnecessary, I will bring you straight back to Pisa.’

Her lips were pulled in so tightly all that showed was a thin white line. ‘I want to see the addendum.’

‘Of course.’ He pulled it out of his inner jacket pocket. She leaned forward and snatched it from his outstretched hand.

The colour on her face darkened with each line read.

‘That’s a copy of the original,’ he said in case she was thinking of ripping it into pieces.

She glared at him with malevolence. ‘I spent five years working for my law degree. I know what a copy looks like.’

Then she took a deep inhalation before placing the document on her lap and clenching her hands into fists. ‘Do not think you can push me around, Mr Lorenzi. I might be young but I’m not a child. This project means everything to me.’

‘I appreciate that,’ he replied calmly. ‘If you act like the adult you claim to be there won’t be any problems and the project will be safe.’

Her answering glare could have curdled milk.

* * *

Francesca was so angry she refused to make any further conversation. If Felipe was perturbed by her silence he didn’t show it. He worked on his laptop for a couple of hours whilst eating a tower of sandwiches, then pressed the button on his seat that turned it into a pod bed.

Doing the same to her own seat, she tried to get some sleep too. She’d found only snatches since Pieta had died in the helicopter crash and that had been haunted sleep at best, waking with cold sweats and sobbing into her pillow. She didn’t know which was the harder to endure, the guilt or the grief. Both sat like a hovering spectre ready to extend its scaly grip and pull her into darkness.

Had it really only been a week ago that her mother had called with the news that he’d been so cruelly taken from them?

For the first time since his death, tears didn’t fill her eyes the second her head hit a pillow. She was too angry to cry.

She knew it was Daniele she should be angry with and not Felipe. Her brother was the one who’d gone behind her back and drawn up the addendum that effectively put Felipe in charge of her as if he were a teacher and she a student on a school trip. But Felipe, the hateful man, had signed it and made it clear he would enforce it.

It would be different if she were a man. He wouldn’t be throwing his authority in her face and patronising her with her lack of worldliness if she were Daniele or Matteo. Her age and gender had always defined her within her family and it infuriated her to see it spread into the rest of her life.

She appreciated she’d been a surprise arrival, being born ten years after Daniele, twelve years after Pieta and their cousin Matteo, who had moved in with them when she was still a baby. The age difference was too stark not to be a factor in how they all treated her. To her father she’d been his princess, for her mother a female doll to dress in pretty clothes and fuss over. Daniele had fussed over her too, the big brother who’d brought her sweets, teased her, tormented her, taken her and her enamoured girlfriends for drives in his succession of new cars. She’d been his baby sister then and was still his baby sister now.

Only Pieta had treated her like a person in her own right and she’d adored him for it. He’d never treated her like a pet. His approval had meant the world to her and she’d followed his footsteps into a career in law like a puppy sniffing its master’s heels.

How could she have reacted the way she had when she’d learned of his death? He deserved so much better than that.

She found her thoughts drifting back to the man whose care she’d been put under. Who cared if he had a face that could make a heart melt and a physique that screamed sex appeal? One conversation had proved him to be an arrogant tyrant. Francesca had spent her life fighting to be taken seriously and she was damned if she would allow him or anyone else to have any power over her...

She sat up sharply. She would call Natasha and get her to cancel the addendum! Why hadn’t she thought of this sooner?

Phone in hand, she put the call through. Just as she was convinced it would go to voicemail, Natasha answered it, sounding flat and groggy.

‘Hi, Natasha, sorry to bother you but I need to speak to you about something.’ As quietly as she could so as not to wake the sleeping figure in the pod opposite her, Francesca explained her fears.

‘I’m sorry, Fran, but I promised Daniele I wouldn’t let you talk me out of it,’ she replied with sympathy. ‘It’s for your own safety.’

‘But it’ll be impossible for me to be effective if this man can veto all my decisions.’

‘He can’t veto anything.’

‘He can. If he decides it isn’t safe for me to be somewhere or to do something he can put a stop to everything. Your addendum gives him all the power.’

‘It isn’t that bad.’

‘It is. He can call a halt to the whole project if I don’t do exactly as he says!’

Natasha sighed. ‘I’m sorry but I made a promise. Daniele is very concerned about your state of mind. We all are. Pieta’s death...’ Her voice faltered then lowered to a whisper. ‘It’s hit you hard. Felipe will keep you safe and stop you making any rash decisions while you’re there. Please, try to understand. We’re only doing what’s best for you.’

If Francesca didn’t know how fragile Natasha’s own state of mind was she’d be tempted to shout down the phone that she was perfectly capable of deciding what was best for herself. But shouting would only prove that she was unstable when right now she needed to convince them all that she was perfectly sane and rational.

Daniele had brainwashed her sister-in-law. It was him she needed to speak to. If she could convince him the addendum was unnecessary then Natasha would agree to cancel it.

‘Thanks anyway,’ she whispered.

Her next call was to Daniele. She wasn’t surprised when it went to voicemail. The rat would be avoiding her.

She left a short message in as sweet a tone as she could muster. ‘Daniele, we need to talk. Call me back as soon as you get this.’

Proud that she hadn’t sworn at him, she put her phone on the ledge by her pod bed. She had never failed to bend Daniele to her will before but this was a situation unlike any other. Cajoling him into buying her a dress for a ball—she was independent but not stupid—was one thing; persuading him to scrap a contract drawn up to keep her safe was a different matter.

‘You won’t get him to change his mind,’ came the deep rumbling tone from the pod bed opposite, not sounding the slightest bit sleepy.

So the sneak had been awake all the time, listening to her conversations.

She threw the bedsheets off and got to her feet. ‘I will. Just watch me.’

With no chance of getting any sleep she might as well have a shower and get herself ready for their arrival in the Caribbean.

* * *

Felipe ate eggs Benedict while waiting for Francesca to finish using the bathroom and adjacent dressing room. After nine hours on the plane he could do with another shower too. They’d be landing in Aguadilla in an hour, his Cessna at the ready to take them straight on to Caballeros and her meeting with the Governor.

He just hoped she was mentally prepared for what she would find there.

He understood her hostility. He’d never liked being subordinate to anyone either. Being in the forces had taught him obedience to orders but that had been a necessary part of any soldier’s training. There was a chain of command and for anyone in that link to break it would see the whole chain collapse. He hadn’t liked it but had seen the necessity of it and so had accepted it. Eventually he had climbed the chain so he had been the one giving the orders and now he commanded hundreds of men whose jobs took them all over the globe. Francesca would have to accept his authority in turn. Her safety was paramount. He wouldn’t hesitate to pull her out if he thought it necessary.

Eventually she emerged from the dressing room.

‘You look better,’ he said, although it was an inadequate response to the difference from when she’d stepped onto the plane. Now she wore a tailored navy suit with tiny white lines racing the length of the jacket and tight trousers. Under the jacket was a black shirt and on her feet tan heels. Her lustrous black hair had been plaited and coiled into a bun at the nape of her neck. The effect managed to be professional and, he would guess, fashionable. It would certainly get her taken more seriously than the outfit she’d originally worn.

She answered with a tight smile and removed her laptop from the drawer a member of the cabin crew had put it in.

He got to his feet and stretched. ‘I’m going to have a shower. Make sure you eat, we’ll be landing in an hour.’

As he strolled past her he inhaled a fresh, delicate perfume and almost paused in his stride to inhale it again. Francesca smelled as good as she looked.

It didn’t matter how good she smelt or how sexy she was, he reminded himself as he stripped off his suit, this was work where liaisons of anything but the professional kind were strictly forbidden. He had the clause written in all his employees’ contracts for good reason. Their work was dangerous and needed a clear head. Any hint that the relationship between employee and client had crossed the line was grounds for instant dismissal.

Francesca could be Aphrodite herself and he would still keep his distance.

He switched the shower on and waited for the water to warm. And waited some more. Francesca had spent so long in it she’d used all the hot water.

He shook his head as he realised it had likely been deliberate.

‘How was your shower?’ she asked innocently when he returned to the cabin.

‘Cold.’

Her lips twitched but she didn’t look up from her laptop.

‘After eight years in the forces where bathing of any kind was rare, any shower’s a good one,’ he said drily. ‘But that’s irrelevant to the job in hand so tell me what the game plan is.’

‘You’re not going to tell me what it is now you’re in charge?’ She didn’t attempt to hide her bitterness.

‘It’s still your project. I’m in charge of your safety. If you’re prepared to accept my authority with that, I’m happy to follow your lead.’ He wanted this project to succeed as much as she did and knew the best way to stop her doing anything rash was to let her think she had some control. ‘You have a meeting with the Governor of San Pedro in four hours. What are you hoping to achieve?’

Looking slightly mollified, she said, ‘His agreement for the sale of the land that Pieta earmarked.’

‘That’s it?’

‘The Governor is married to the Caballeron President’s sister and given the job directly from the President himself. If he agrees there’s no one left to object and I can start organising everything properly.’

‘And if he refuses?’

She grimaced. ‘I don’t want to think about that.’

‘You don’t have a contingency plan?’

She closed the lid of her laptop. ‘I’ll think of something if it comes to it.’

‘Why didn’t Alberto come with you? He’s got plenty of experience with this.’ He watched her reaction closely. Alberto had been Pieta’s right-hand man for his foundation. The pair had always travelled together, Alberto doing much of the legwork to get things moving. He knew his way around countries hit by natural disasters better than anyone and how to schmooze the people running them.

‘He’s taken leave,’ she said with a shrug. ‘You should have seen him at the funeral, he could barely stand. He’s given me all the foundation’s files but he’s not capable of working right now.’

‘Yet here you are, Pieta’s sister, travelling to one of the most dangerous countries in the world only a day after you buried him, continuing his good work.’

Her jaw clenched and she closed her eyes, inhaling slowly. Then she nodded and met his gaze. The redness that had been such a feature of her eyes when she’d boarded the plane had gone, along with the puffiness surrounding them, but there was a bleakness in its place that was almost as hard to look at.

When she replied her voice was low but with an edge of steel. ‘This project—doing it in Pieta’s memory—is the only thing stopping me from falling apart.’

She had courage, he would give her that. He just hoped she had the strength to see the next five days through.

* * *

Francesca hardly had time to appreciate the beauty of Aguadilla before they stepped into the waiting Cessna. All she had time to note from the short car ride from Aguadilla International Airport to the significantly smaller airfield four miles away was the bluest sky she’d ever seen, the clearest sea and lots of greenery.

There were three men including the pilot waiting in the Cessna for them. Felipe shook hands with them all and threw their names at her while she nodded a greeting and tried to convince herself that the sick feeling in her belly wasn’t fear that in twenty minutes they’d be landing in Caballeros.

‘Are you okay?’ Felipe asked once they were strapped in.

She jerked a nod. ‘I’m good.’

‘Is this your first visit to Caballeros?’ the man who’d been introduced as James asked in a broad Australian accent.

She nodded again.

He grinned. ‘Then I suggest you make the most of the beautiful Aguadillan scenery because where we’re going is a dump.’

She gave a bark of laughter at the unexpected comment.

‘Do these men all work for you?’ she asked Felipe in an undertone when they were in the air.

‘Yes. I’ve three more men posted around the governor’s residence. All my employees are ex-special forces. James and Seb have both been posted here before. You couldn’t be in better hands.’

‘You managed all this in one night?’ That was seriously impressive.

His dark brown eyes found hers. The strangest swooping sensation formed in her belly.

‘While we’re in Caballeros you’re in my care and under my protection. I take that seriously.’

His words made her veins warm.

Francesca took a breath and turned away to stare out of the small window. When she put a hand to her neck she was further disconcerted to find her pulse beating strongly, and closed her eyes in an attempt to temper it.

During their last hour on Pieta’s jet when she’d been working on her laptop, she hadn’t been able to resist doing some research on Felipe’s company. She supposed she should have done it before, when Daniele and Matteo had insisted Felipe’s men be employed to protect her, but the thought hadn’t occurred to her then.

What she’d learned had astounded her.

Matteo had said Felipe had earned a fortune from his business but she hadn’t realised how vast his enterprise actually was. In one decade he’d built a company that spanned the globe, employing hundreds of ex-military personnel from dozens of nationalities. The company’s assets were as startling, with jets of all shapes and sizes ready to be deployed at a moment’s notice, and communications equipment reputed to be so effective the military from Europe to the US now purchased it for their own soldiers.

She could laugh to think of the macho meathead she’d imagined him to be. Felipe Lorenzi owned a business worth billions, and had the arrogance to prove it.

He’d struck up conversation with his colleagues who were seated in front of them. Their words went over her head. Her eyes drifted back to him.

He really was heavenly to look at. The more she looked, the more she wanted to look.

Coming from a wealthy family of her own, she’d met and mixed with plenty of wealthy, handsome men in her time, but none like him, none who carried strength and danger like a second skin.

As he gave a low rumble of laughter at some wisecrack of James’s—shocking in itself as she hadn’t thought he could laugh—she found herself admiring the size of his biceps beneath the expensive fabric of his suit jacket.

Her gaze drifted lower, to the muscular thighs. They had to be at least twice the size of her own...

As if he could sense her attention on him, Felipe turned to look at her and in that moment, in that look, all the breath left her lungs and her mouth ran dry. Fresh heat flushed through her.

It was like being trapped. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the dark gaze before he gave a sharp blink and turned his focus back to his colleagues.

Francesca let out a slow, ragged breath and pressed her hand to her wildly beating heart.

Never mind being ruggedly handsome, Felipe Lorenzi was the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on.

What a shame he was also the most horrid.

* * *

Felipe had never thought he’d be pleased to land in Caballeros but as the Cessna touched down he sent a silent prayer of thanks.

He’d been busy chatting with James and Seb, the usual repartee, nothing important that couldn’t be said in front of an outsider, when he’d suddenly become intensely aware of the outsider. It had happened so quickly it had taken him unawares, a thickening in his loins, an electricity over his skin, a lazy wonder of how her lips would feel beneath his, of what she would taste like...

Then, just as quickly, he’d pushed the awareness away and focussed his mind as he’d spent almost two decades doing, dispelling anything that wasn’t central to the job at hand. An attraction to Francesca Pellegrini went straight into that category. Not central. Not even on the fringe. It couldn’t be.

It was no big deal. He’d dealt with unwanted attraction before without any problems. It really was a case of just focussing the mind on what was important and the only thing of importance was her safety.

But there had been something in the look she’d returned that made him think the attraction could be a two-way thing. He could handle it.

Francesca Pellegrini was off limits as a matter of course. Never mind his no-sex-with-the-clients stipulation with his employees—and if he were to enforce a rule then fair play meant he had to stick to those rules himself on the occasions he went out in the field—but she was grieving for her brother. He’d seen hardened men lose their minds with grief. He’d almost lost his mind with it once, the pain excruciating enough to know he never wanted to go through anything like it again. And he never would.

He’d spent his childhood effectively alone and where once he had yearned to escape the solitude, now he welcomed it. All his relationships, from the men he employed to the women he dated, were conducted at arm’s length.

‘Ready, boss?’ Seb asked, his hand on the door.

Like much of the island, Caballeros’ main airport had been badly damaged. Pellegrini money and Felipe’s own greasing of the wheels had ensured a safe strip for them to land on. Looking over Francesca’s shoulder to stare out of the window he could see for himself the extent of the damage. The terminal roof had been ripped off, windows shattered, piles of debris as far as the eye could see. Feet away from them lay a Boeing 737 on its side.

‘Are you ready?’ he asked Francesca quietly. She was staring frozenly out of the window, taking in the horror. ‘We can always rearrange the meeting.’

She lifted her shoulders and tilted her neck. ‘I’m not rearranging anything. Let’s go.’

CHAPTER THREE

THE DRIVER OF the waiting car, another of Felipe’s men, Francesca guessed, drove them carefully over roads thick with mud and so full of potholes she knew the damage had been pre-hurricane. Seb travelled with them, James staying in the Cessna with the pilot.

The Governor’s residence was to the north of the island, far from the city he ran, an area relatively unscathed by the hurricane. To reach it, though, meant travelling through San Pedro, the island’s capital, which along with the rest of the southern cities and towns had taken the brunt of the storm. She shivered to think this was the city she’d planned to stay in during her trip here.

They drove through towns that were only recognisable as such by the stacks of splintered wood and metal that had weeks before been the basis for people’s homes. Tarpaulin and holey blankets were raised for shelter to replace them. People crowded everywhere, old and young, naked children, shoeless pregnant women, people with obvious injuries but only makeshift bandages covering their wounds. Most stared at the passing car with dazed eyes; some had the energy to try to approach it, a few threw things at them.

At the first bottle to hit their car, Francesca ducked into her seat.

‘Don’t worry,’ Felipe said. ‘It’s bulletproof glass. Nothing can damage it.’

‘Where’s all the aid?’ she asked in bewilderment. ‘All the aid agencies that are supposed to be here?’

‘They’re concentrated to the south of the island. We just landed in the main airport and you saw the state of that. The other one is worse. They’re having to bring the aid in by ship. The neighbouring islands have done their best to help but they’re limited with what they can do as the hurricane struck so many of them too and the government isn’t helping as it should. That airport should be cleared. There’s much it should be doing but nothing’s happening. It’s a joke.’

By the time they arrived at the Governor’s compound Francesca was more determined than ever to get the hospital built, not just for her brother’s memory but for the poor people suffering from both the hurricane and its government’s incompetence in clearing up after it. She felt she could burst with determination.

The Governor’s residence was a sprawling white Spanish-style villa that made her hate him before she’d even laid eyes on him. There were armed guards everywhere protecting it, men who should be out on the streets clearing up the devastation.

As if reading her dark thoughts, Felipe stared at her until he had her attention.

His eyes were hard. ‘Keep your personal feelings for the Governor to yourself. You must show him respect or he will kick you out and never admit you again.’

‘How do I show respect to a man I already loathe?’

He shrugged. ‘You’re the one who wants to play the politician’s role. Fake it. You’ve read Alberto’s reports on Pieta’s old projects. Think what your brother would do and do that. You’re playing with the big boys now, Francesca. Or do I take you home?’

‘No,’ she rejected out of hand. ‘I can do this.’

‘You can fake respect?’

‘I will do whatever is needed.’

Breathing deeply, Francesca got out of the car and walked up the long marble steps to the front door with Felipe at her side, leaving Seb and the driver in the car.

‘Is there something wrong with your leg?’ she asked, noticing a slight limp.

‘Nothing serious,’ he dismissed, his attention on their surroundings. She had a feeling nothing escaped his scrutiny.

After being frisked and scanned with metal detectors, they were led into a large white reception room filled with huge vases of white flowers and lined with marble statues, and told to wait.

The sofa in the reception room was so pristinely white that Francesca wiped the back of her skirt before sitting.

When they were alone, she said in an undertone, ‘If this is the Governor’s home I dread to think how pretentious the President’s is.’

‘Be careful.’ Felipe leaned close to speak into her ear. ‘There are cameras everywhere recording everything we do and say.’

She didn’t know what unnerved her the most: knowing they were being spied on or Felipe’s breath warm against her ear. She caught his scent, which was as warm as his breath, an expensive spicy smell that filled her mouth with moisture and had her sitting rigidly beside him to stop herself leaning into him so she could sniff him properly.

Clasping her hands together, she focussed on a painting of a gleaming yacht on the wall opposite.

She could not let her body’s reactions to Felipe distract her from the job in hand. She’d spent her adult life rebuffing male advances. She’d turned down plenty of good-looking undergraduates at university, always with an appeasing smile and zero regret.

She hadn’t wanted the distraction of a romance—not that romance itself played much of a part in a student’s life—when she was determined to graduate with top honours. Sex and romance could wait until she was established in her career.

She sneaked a glance at the hands resting on the muscular lap beside hers. Like the rest of him they were big, the fingers long and calloused, the nails functionally short, nothing like the manicured digits the men at Pieta’s law firm sported. Felipe was all man. You only had to look at him to know a woman’s body was imprinted like a map in his memories.

A tall, lithe woman impeccably dressed in a white designer suit entered the room. The Governor was ready for them.

Pulling herself together, Francesca got to her feet, smoothed her jacket with hands that had suddenly gone clammy and picked up her laptop bag.

Her heart beat frantically, excitement and nerves fighting in her belly.

She could do this. She would do this. She would get the Governor’s agreement for the sale of the land. She would make Pieta proud and, in doing so, obtain his forgiveness.

* * *

Felipe felt undressed without his gun, which he’d left in the car with Seb. He didn’t expect any trouble in the Governor’s own home but could see the bulges in the suits of the guards who lined the walls of the ostentatious dining room they were taken to.

The Governor himself sat at the dining table alone, eating an orange that had been cut into segments for him. The tall woman who’d brought them in arranged herself a foot behind him.

He didn’t rise for his guests but gestured for them to sit.

Felipe hadn’t expected to like the man but neither had he expected the instant dislike that flashed through him.

‘My condolences about your brother,’ the Governor said in Spanish, addressing Francesca’s breasts. ‘I hear he was a great man.’

From the panicked look Francesca shot at him, Felipe guessed she didn’t speak his native tongue. Without missing a beat, he made the translation.

‘Thank you,’ she replied, smiling at the Governor as if having a lecherous sixty-year-old ogle her whilst speaking of her dead brother was perfectly acceptable. ‘Do you speak Italian or English?’

‘No,’ he replied in English, before switching back to Spanish to address Felipe. ‘You are her bodyguard?’

‘I’m here as Miss Pellegrini’s translator and advisor,’ he answered smoothly, avoiding giving a direct lie.

The Governor put a large segment of orange in his mouth. ‘I understand she wants to build a hospital in my city.’

Felipe smothered his distaste at being spoken to by someone chewing food. ‘She does, yes. I believe her brother had already been in contact with your office about the land it could be built on.’

He sensed Francesca’s agitation at being cut out of her own meeting. She had the air of a pet straining at its leash. He shot her a warning look. Calm down.

Another segment went into the wide mouth, the gaze fixing back on Francesca’s breasts as if he were trying to see through the respectable clothing she wore. From the gleam in his beady eyes he was mentally undressing her. From the angry colour staining her face she knew it too but the quick look she threw at him told him to say nothing.

‘Two hundred thousand dollars.’

‘Is that for the land?’

The mouth still full of orange smiled. ‘That is for me. The land itself is another two hundred thousand. All in cash.’

Felipe stared hard at Francesca as he made the translation, sending another warning to her with his eyes. He would have spoken his warnings but was damn sure the Governor spoke perfect English.

To his incredulity she agreed without a second’s thought or consideration.

‘Done.’

‘The hospital is to have my name.’

Here she hesitated. Felipe knew why—she wanted to name it after her brother.

The Governor saw the hesitation. ‘Either it has my name or permission is denied.’

Felipe translated again, adopting a harder edge to his voice in the vain hope she would pick up on it, slow down and negotiate properly.

But she was too keen to get the agreement made to see the danger she was walking into.

‘Tell the Governor we will be honoured to name it after him,’ she said in a tone so grateful Felipe braced himself for the Governor to pick up on it and demand even more from her.

A full mouth of pristine white teeth beamed. ‘Then it is a deal. I am having a party here next Saturday.’ That was a full week away. ‘Bring her to it. I’ll have the documents ready for you. Tell her to bring the cash.’ He snapped his fingers and the tall woman stepped forward. ‘Escort my guests back to their car. They’re leaving.’

As they stood, Francesca, full of smiles, said, ‘Please give my thanks to the Governor for his co-operation.’

She virtually skipped with joy out of the villa.

Only when they were safely in the back of the car and out of the compound did Felipe turn on her.

‘What are you playing at?’ he demanded. ‘Where was the negotiation? And what were you thinking agreeing to pay a bribe?’

The smile on her face fell. ‘What’s it to you?’

‘You’ve agreed to pay a cash bribe. You’ve agreed to bring in four hundred thousand dollars into the Caribbean’s poorest country. Can’t you see what’s wrong with that? Can’t you see the danger?’

‘I’ve done what needed to be done,’ she said defiantly. ‘Thank you for making the translations, but you’re being paid to protect me and advise on my security. If I want your input with anything else, I’ll let you know.’

This was exactly what Daniele and Matteo had warned him about. Francesca was so determined to get the hospital built in Pieta’s memory that she was a danger to herself.

Francesca didn’t understand why Felipe was being so negative. The meeting had gone a hundred times better than she’d expected. She’d expected to be drilled for hours about the hospital itself, its capabilities and the number of people they hoped to be able to treat. She’d made sure to have all the relevant figures and documents ready for him but in the end it had boiled down to one simple thing: money. And Pieta’s philanthropic foundation had plenty of it.

Felipe was taking his job as protector too far.

‘What about your career?’ he ground out. ‘Did you think about that? Do you want it ruined before it’s even started?’

Excited that they were heading straight to the site the hospital would be built on, his words took a moment to sink in. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘If word gets out that you paid a bribe to the Governor of San Pedro your career will be over. Lawyers are supposed to be on the side of the law.’

Dear God, that hadn’t even occurred to her.

She swayed in her seat as hot dizziness poured into her head. For one dreadful moment she really thought she was going to faint.

In her eagerness to get the site signed over to the foundation, it hadn’t crossed her mind that she could be jeopardising her career by paying the Governor’s bribe.

‘Pieta paid bribes,’ she said, more to herself and for her own mitigation.

‘No, your brother was always smart enough not to pay them and not as openly as you’re doing and not verbally with secret cameras recording every word said. He would never have put himself or his foundation in such jeopardy. He acted with discretion and had other people pay any bribe through intermediaries. You should know that.’

‘I would if anyone had ever told me. It wasn’t in any of the files.’ But it wouldn’t have been, she realised, her blood running colder still. Alberto had told her to prepare to ‘grease the wheels’ with the Governor but Alberto had been half crazed with grief and there had been nothing written down and for good reason; who would be stupid enough to leave a paper trail advertising law-breaking, even if for good reasons and intentions? ‘Why didn’t you tell me seeing as you know so much?’

She’d been so proud and relieved to have got the Governor’s agreement that she’d been oblivious to anything else.

‘I assumed you did know. I could hardly tell you in the middle of the meeting—’

‘We’re being followed.’ It was Seb’s voice that cut through their angry exchange.

Felipe turned to look out of the back window.

‘Black Mondeo.’

‘I see it.’

Felipe’s left hand gripped Francesca’s shoulder, preventing her from turning to look too.

‘Keep down,’ he said tautly.

‘But...’

A silver gun appeared in his right hand.

‘What do you need that for?’ she virtually screeched.

‘Someone’s following us.’

‘How do you know that?’ she asked, her eyes on his gun. ‘They might just be travelling the same route as us.’

His eyes were hard. ‘It’s my job to know and if I don’t know then I don’t take risks. Now hold on.’

The hand that had been holding her shoulder moved so his arm covered her chest like an additional seat belt. A second later she learned why when Seb put his foot down.

She only just held back a scream when she found them suddenly hurtling along the bumpy roads. Caballeros passed by in a blur, the roads narrowing and deteriorating the further south they travelled.

When they missed hitting an oncoming truck by inches, she squeezed her eyes shut and clung to Felipe’s arm and didn’t let go until with a squeal of brakes the car came to a stop.

‘You can look now, we’re at the airport,’ Felipe said, his voice tight. ‘We’ve lost them.’

She let go and was pleased to see him wince as he shook the arm she’d been holding with the grip of a boa constrictor. The gun was still nestled comfortably in his right hand.

‘On what planet is travelling at a hundred miles an hour over potholed narrow roads keeping me safe?’ she demanded, all the contained fear spewing out in one swoop. ‘We could have been killed!’

Her door opened and James stood there, a big grin on his face. ‘That looked like some ride.’

‘Your colleague’s a maniac.’

‘Who? Seb? Don’t worry about him, he’s done an advanced motoring course.’

‘Shut up, James,’ Felipe bit out, then to Francesca said, ‘I’m sorry if we scared you but I did warn you of the dangers.’

‘You warned me of kidnap and robbery. You said nothing about a car ride turning into the rollercoaster ride from hell. You said nothing about being armed.’

‘Would you have preferred we let them catch us? Should I have asked them nicely why they were following us and what they wanted? Should I arm myself with a feather duster to protect you?’

‘Well...no...’

‘Then let’s get in the plane before they find us and tell us in person what they want.’

‘We’re supposed to be going to the hospital site.’

‘That can wait.’

‘But...’

The look on his face stopped her arguing further. It was a look that spoke plainly. If she didn’t get out of the car and onto the plane right now he would carry her to it.

The adrenaline racing through her peaked to imagine what it would be like carried in his arms...

Humiliating, that’s what it would be, carted off like a recalcitrant child.

Jutting her chin in the air, she twisted round and got out, snubbing James’s offered hand.

‘I don’t know why you’re ignoring me, I wasn’t in the car,’ he complained.

She couldn’t help but smile weakly at his boyish charm even though he too had a gun in his hand. ‘Shut up, James.’

‘Yes, shut up, James,’ Felipe muttered as he followed her, scrutinising their surroundings, his hand on her back, ready to throw himself on her should anything happen.

His heart still pounded from the adrenaline surge of the race back to the airport and he was as angry about that as he was about Francesca’s idiocy. Adrenaline was part of the job—for most of them it was the job—but not like that.

Only when they were airborne did he put the gun back in his inside jacket pocket.

He’d seen Francesca’s fear when he’d produced it.

Good.

Fear could be a useful tool provided one knew how to control it. She had controlled her fear well enough, he admitted grudgingly, but she had to learn her safety wasn’t a game. There would be no compromises in that regard.

He closed his eyes and breathed welcome oxygen into his lungs.

He hadn’t experience a charge like that since the hostage situation a decade ago that had ended in such destruction and his own medical discharge from the forces.

* * *

When they landed back in the safety of Aguadilla, Francesca found she could breathe again. Caballeros had frightened her more than she wanted to admit. The guns Felipe and his men carried frightened her too; a physical reminder of the danger Daniele and Matteo had been so keen to ram into her but which she had naively thought they were exaggerating.

Felipe took the wheel, taking them through rural byways where coconut sellers lined the road and men sat at tables playing board games. One minute they were driving through what looked like jungle, the next in the open air with the Caribbean Sea gleaming before them, then back into the jungle. Twenty minutes after they left the airport, they pulled up outside a pretty single-storey lodge.

‘This looks nice,’ she said, attempting a conciliatory tone at the rigid figure driving the car who hadn’t exchanged a word with anyone since they’d left the airport.

Now that her adrenaline had settled she could appreciate that a combination of her fear and the awful realisation that she’d screwed up had made her come across as a spoilt brat. Felipe and Seb had done nothing more in the car than they were being paid for—keeping her safe. And Felipe had tried to warn her in the meeting, she remembered. But they’d been non-verbal warnings she’d ignored in her determination to seal the deal.

She would have to apologise.

‘This is where we’re slumming it,’ James said, his eyes twinkling.

‘Hardly slumming it,’ she protested. ‘It’s charming.’

‘Nah, not you. Seb and I have to slum it while you and grumpy here get to live it up in a seven-star paradise up the road. Don’t party too hard.’

Both men slammed the doors behind them, leaving her in the back alone with Felipe up front.

He switched the engine back on.

‘Hold on, I’ll come and sit up front with you,’ she said, but found the door wouldn’t open. ‘Have you turned the child lock on?’

He turned the car round, saying, ‘Put your seat belt back on, we’ll be there in a few minutes.’

She slumped back and folded her arms, her warmed feelings towards him disappearing in an instant at his arrogant highhandedness.

‘“Put your seat belt back on,”’ she mimicked under her breath. ‘“Don’t do this, don’t do that, just do exactly as I say.”’

He could forget an apology.

Not even the long private driveway dotted with security guards that opened up to reveal their perfectly named Eden Hotel could lift her mood, or the thought of calling Daniele with the good news. When the contracts were signed a week from now he’d fly over and check the site and get the architectural plans, which he’d promised to get started on, finalised.

But she would have to tell him too about her foolishness. He would be rightly furious with her. She was furious with herself.

She followed Felipe out of the car and into the sweet air, and hurried to follow him into the hotel.

And what a hotel it was. Francesca had stayed in many luxury resorts with her family while growing up but nowhere that could compare to this. The Eden Hotel was like a tall, sprawling villa set back from its own private sandy cove, its pristine white fascia covered in all manner of colourful climbing flowers and vines.

It oozed money, a feeling compounded when she stepped into a giant oval atrium with a waterfall as a centrepiece that managed to be both bustling with life yet utterly serene, evoking the sense of calm she so desperately needed. It made the Governor’s residence seem like a trifling town hall.

Felipe strolled to the horseshoe-shaped reception desk and used the time spent checking in getting a handle on the turbulence still coursing through him. All he wanted was to get into the privacy of his suite before he said or did something he regretted.

Once they’d been given their respective keys he said, without looking at the woman who’d caused all the turbulence, ‘Your luggage has been taken to your suite. I’ll meet you in here after breakfast on Monday...’

‘Monday?’

‘None of the officials you want to see will be available tomorrow. Not on a Sunday.’

‘But Caballeros is in a state of emergency!’

‘Have you made any appointments?’

‘Not yet,’ she admitted reluctantly. ‘I didn’t want to get ahead of myself before I got the Governor’s agreement. I’m planning to call everyone on my list when I get to my room.’

‘They won’t see you tomorrow. For all its faults Caballeros is a religious country and Sunday is considered a day of rest so we will meet on Monday.’

‘If I can get appointments made for tomorrow then we go back tomorrow.’

‘We go back on Monday.’ He stared hard at her angry face. ‘You can use tomorrow to do some proper research on what you’re dealing with and be fully prepared.’

‘Meaning?’

‘The contract I signed was to provide you with protection for five days only. The Governor wants his bribe next Saturday, a week from now. If you want my agreement to stay the extra days then you need to stop acting like a brat, meaning you need to slow down and get your head straight before you make any more slip-ups. The deeds to the site aren’t yours yet and the way I’m feeling right now I could call your brother and tell him his fears have come true and that you’re a danger to yourself and should go home. Buenas noches.’

As he strode away, leaving her open-mouthed behind him, knowing perfectly well that only the threat of him calling her brother was stopping her from shouting at him and calling him all the names under the sun, he thought a day of rest would do him good too.

One day in Francesca Pellegrini’s company and he was ready to punch walls.

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