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Summer Surrender: Capelli's Captive Virgin / Italian Boss, Proud Miss Prim / The Italian's One-Night Love-Child
It was idyllic. If it weren’t for her anxiety about Ruby, she might even have been able to relax.
Lindsay frowned, realising how ridiculous that was. If it hadn’t been for Ruby, she wouldn’t be here! And if she started thinking that this was a holiday, she’d be in trouble. The only way to survive a week with Alessio Capelli was to be businesslike.
Absorbed by the contents of the file on his lap, Alessio appeared unaware of her inner turmoil. ‘You’ve never been to the Caribbean?’
‘No, I—’ She broke off. She didn’t want to reveal anything about herself to this man. What would someone like him make of her disordered, disastrous childhood? He’d laugh or make one of his sharp, lawyerlike comments that always made her shrink. ‘I haven’t really travelled.’ Not wanting to think about her past, she peered down at the surf breaking on a beach below her. ‘Is that where we’re going?’
‘Yes.’ Unlike her, he hadn’t once glanced out of the window, instead concentrating on working his way through the thick sheaf of documents. Occasionally he scribbled a note in the margin, sometimes he underlined, rarely he frowned and crossed out a chunk of text with big, bold strokes of his black pen.
Did he ever relax? She studied his profile for a moment. He’d showered and shaved and was now dressed in lightweight trousers and a cool shirt.
‘Why do you work so hard? Is it all about the money?’ She blurted out the question and he lifted his head and looked at her.
‘Money is important up to a point. After that, the amount becomes irrelevant.’
Lindsay tried to imagine having so much money that the total became irrelevant. ‘Well, you’ve long passed that point,’ she muttered, ‘so why do you carry on?’
‘Because it entertains me.’ He slid his pen into his pocket and closed the file. ‘I enjoy the process.’
‘You mean you enjoy making people miserable.’
His eyes gleamed. ‘On the contrary, I free them from misery to begin a new life.’
‘Don’t you ever worry that you’ve taken apart something that could be fixed?’
‘Unlike you, I don’t feel the need to control everybody else’s actions. If someone comes to me seeking legal advice, I give it. I don’t try and persuade them that they’re wrong.’
‘But what if some of those marriages could be saved? Perhaps some of those poor children could be spared the misery of spending their lives shuttling backwards and forwards every other weekend.’
Alessio slipped the file into his briefcase and snapped it shut. ‘You’re extremely concerned about the children in every relationship.’
Her heart thudded against her chest. It really wouldn’t pay to underestimate this man. He was so astute. ‘Of course. Who wouldn’t be?’ She gave a humourless laugh. ‘Sorry—you’re not at all concerned, are you?’
‘I think a bad relationship can be every bit as damaging for children as a split family.’
‘But what if the bad relationship could be fixed?’
‘You’re ridiculously sentimental about everything and you take it far too personally.’ His gaze was suddenly thoughtful. ‘Or maybe it is personal. Is it personal, Lindsay? Or do you feel this strongly on every subject?’
Her mouth dried. ‘I care, that’s all.’
‘I know. I’m just wondering why.’
‘Because I’m a human being.’ Deeply regretting ever starting the conversation, Lindsay concentrated her attention on the Caribbean Sea, which sparkled beneath her in the dazzling sunlight. She’d forgotten that he was a lawyer. With a few simple words he’d turned everything around and suddenly she was the one in the dock.
She needed to be careful.
Really careful.
‘So what do you want me to do?’ Realising that they’d finally arrived, she turned to him. ‘I mean, I expect you were planning to brief me on the flight, but I was ill—do you have something I should read? What’s my role?’
He circled a word on the page in front of him and then looked up. ‘Your role, Lindsay, is to act as my assistant.’ His dark eyes held hers for a moment and she felt everything inside her grow warm.
Appalled by her extremely unwelcome reaction to him, she frowned and dragged her gaze from his. ‘I know that I’m your assistant, but I’m just not sure what you expect of me. Some details would be helpful.’
‘I expect you to make our client feel comfortable. We need to make him feel that we understand his situation and that we’re committed to representing his interests.’
‘All right.’
‘I don’t expect you to ask if he’s tried counselling.’
Lindsay swallowed. ‘Fine. Are you going to tell me about him?’
‘Not yet. His presence on the island is top secret. If his identity was leaked, it could cause a problem. The owner prides himself on guaranteeing the absolute discretion of everyone on the island.’
‘But he trusts you?’
‘Lindsay—’ his voice was gentle ‘—I am the owner. It’s my island.’
‘Yours?’ She looked at him stupidly and then out of the window at the sugar-soft sandy beach that stretched towards a stylish beachfront villa. Another villa was visible farther along the sand. ‘You own this? I thought you were a lawyer, not a property magnate.’
‘I have several business interests.’ He slid the file into his briefcase.
Lindsay arched an eyebrow. ‘Worried that the divorce business might not sustain you into your old age, Alessio?’
‘It’s good business practice to diversify and I find my various business interests complement each other. You’d be surprised how many men are eager to check into remote, five-star luxury in order to escape their marriages.’
‘Escape responsibility, you mean.’
Alessio gave a faint smile. ‘As I was saying, Kingfisher Cay fits nicely into my business portfolio. The rich and famous are guaranteed an exclusive hideaway in which they can lick their wounds, safe in the knowledge that the world’s press aren’t watching them.’
‘And safe in the knowledge that their exclusive private villa comes with free legal advice.’
‘I wouldn’t exactly describe it as “free”.’ Alessio leaned across and unfastened her seat belt, his eyes settling on her black skirt. ‘I have a feeling that the first thing you might want to do is rethink your wardrobe. You’re going to be extremely hot in that suit.’ He was uncomfortably close to her and although she wanted desperately to look away, somehow she couldn’t quite manage it. It was as if he were holding her there, trapped. Helpless. Something flickered in the depths of his eyes, something raw and elemental, and her heart started to bump rapidly against her chest.
‘I have a change of clothes in my bag,’ she said hoarsely, but still he didn’t move, the temperature between them rising to intolerable levels as he held her gaze.
Then he released his own seat belt and stood up. ‘Good.’
She thought he was smiling, but she couldn’t be sure because he was talking to the pilot in rapid Italian and then the door of the plane opened and sunlight and warmth filled the cabin.
Alessio turned, his hair gleaming blue-black under the burning sun, more shockingly handsome than any man had a right to be. ‘Welcome to Kingfisher Cay.’
So he was handsome, she’d always known that.
Damn the man.
Feeling hot, sticky and desperately unsettled, Lindsay dumped her small overnight bag on the floor of the villa and burst out laughing. When Alessio had told her she would be staying in a villa she’d imagined that she’d be sharing something relatively modest with several other people. Instead, the smiling staff member who had met their seaplane had led her to a private villa. A villa just for her. And her overnight bag looked as out of place as she felt.
The spacious living room opened directly onto the beach and was decorated in a sophisticated palette of cool colours that created an atmosphere of restful calm. The bedroom was dominated by an enormous teak four-poster bed, draped in acres of light creamy muslin and dressed with piles of silk cushions in elegant, restrained shades.
Lindsay stared around her in disbelief, so distracted by her surroundings that she forgot she was hot, sticky and desperately uncomfortable. She forgot about the hot burn of sexual awareness that had been with her ever since she’d arrived at Alessio’s office. She even forgot that she still hadn’t managed to contact Ruby. She was so stunned by the sheer luxury of the villa that for a moment she simply stood there.
What was she doing here?
Had this really been Ruby’s life? It was hardly surprising she’d loved her job if this was one of the perks.
She strolled through a door and found herself in a lavish marble bathroom that again opened directly onto the beach. Taking in the multispray shower and the array of exclusive toiletries, Lindsay shook her head.
It was possible to lie in the bath and stare at the palm trees swaying on the beach.
If staying here was work, what did Alessio Capelli do for entertainment?
Hearing footsteps behind her, she turned and saw a pretty blonde girl dressed in a white uniform standing in the doorway.
‘I’m Natalya. I’m your housekeeper for the duration of your stay at Kingfisher Cay. Anything you want, you have only to ask. I expect you’re hot and tired after your journey. Would you like to change while I unpack for you?’
Unpack? Unpack what, exactly?
Lindsay’s eyes slid to her bag. It sat forlorn and abandoned in the centre of the polished wooden floor. ‘I don’t have much luggage. I wasn’t expecting—This was a bit of an—impulse trip.’
As if anyone would come to a place like this on impulse. Even for the elite few fortunate enough to be able to afford it, it would be a rare treat. For the rest of the population, the silky sand and turquoise sea of Kingfisher Cay would never be more than a picture to drool over in an exotic travel brochure. Except that this place didn’t feature in travel brochures.
Natalya didn’t appear to find the absence of luggage at all odd. Obviously accustomed to the odd behaviour of the rich and famous, she simply smiled. ‘We pride ourselves in being able to provide anything and everything you need. If you like, you can give me a list. Or I can simply provide you with what I think you’ll need for a happy and comfortable stay here.’
Lindsay smiled at that. ‘You’re even prepared to do my thinking for me?’
‘We’re used to living here,’ Natalya murmured. ‘We know what you’re likely to need.’
‘I don’t want to put you to any trouble. I’m sure you have plenty of other guests.’ More important guests.
‘We have a staff ratio of eight to one.’
‘One member of staff for eight guests?’ Lindsay was thinking that seemed like a lot when the girl smiled.
‘Eight members of staff for each guest.’
Stunned into silence, Lindsay simply gaped at her. ‘Oh—’
‘Signor Capelli asked that you meet him at the Beach Club for a drink in twenty minutes.’
‘Right.’ Lindsay looked at her helplessly. ‘And where is that, exactly?’
‘If you come to the front of your villa when you’re ready, I’ll direct you.’
Alessio nursed his drink and stared moodily at the smooth turquoise ocean as he contemplated the case. He wasn’t surprised that the ‘A’ list Hollywood star wanted a divorce. What surprised him was that the man had been foolish enough to marry his co-star in the first place.
She had ‘opportunist’ written all over her particularly stunning face.
What was it about a beautiful woman that turned otherwise sensible men into fools?
A yacht drifted across his line of vision, the sails providing an elaborate splash of colour against the endless blue.
‘Alessio?’
Irritated at being disturbed, he turned his head and found himself staring straight into the grave, serious eyes of Lindsay Lockheart.
Hovering awkwardly in her sensible navy skirt and tailored shirt, she looked as out of place as a sparrow suddenly finding itself in the midst of a flock of exotic birds.
Controlling or not, she must really love her sister, Alessio mused as he acknowledged just how uncomfortable she was and how little she evidently wanted to be here.
‘I thought you were going to change.’
‘I did change.’ Startled, she glanced down at herself, as if checking that her clothes hadn’t suddenly disappeared. ‘This is a different outfit.’
Alessio contemplated the formal navy skirt with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. ‘Clearly you consider it prudent to always be ready for a funeral.’
Soft colour highlighted her cheekbones. ‘I’m dressed for work. I gave a television interview in London just before I flew to see you in Rome. Obviously at the time I didn’t know I was going to need clothes for a warm climate.’
On the surface she appeared brisk and businesslike, but as she pulled out the chair opposite and sat down Alessio noticed the tremor in her hands. And she wasn’t quite meeting his eyes. Instead she placed her notepad on the table in front of her and opened it, clearly relieved to have something to focus on that didn’t include him. ‘Right. Let’s get started.’
Unable to resist the opportunity to tease her, Alessio lounged back in his chair. ‘What, no foreplay?’
Her gaze flew to his and a flash of sexual awareness darkened her eyes from blue to indigo.
Watching her reaction, Alessio saw the exact moment that she rejected that response. She took several breaths and her fingers tightened on the pen.
Ignoring his comment, she wrote the date neatly and carefully at the top of the pad. ‘I thought it would be sensible to take some notes on what you want me to do.’
She just blocked it out, he mused silently. This sizzling chemistry between them was something that she just tried to ignore.
‘Efficient, Lindsay. Always in control. Tell me something—’ fascinated by the tiny pulse in her slender neck, he studied her for a long moment ‘—do you ever do anything on impulse?’
‘Coming here was an impulsive action,’ she responded instantly.
‘I hadn’t planned to spend the next week on a Caribbean island with a—’ She broke off and he raised an eyebrow.
‘You were saying? With a—?’
‘I’m here in place of my sister, so that you don’t have reason to fire her. Talking of which, have you managed to contact your brother?’
‘I haven’t tried.’ Alessio swivelled his gaze to one of the bar staff, who immediately produced two refreshing cocktails filled with crushed ice and topped with exotic fruit. ‘Have a drink. You need to relax.’
She ignored the drink. ‘Why?’
‘Because too much tension is bad for your health.’
She frowned impatiently. ‘I mean, why haven’t you tried to contact your brother? You promised that you would.’
‘I’ve already left one message.’
‘Then leave another. Keep ringing until he answers!’
‘What would be the point of that? He’ll respond when he’s ready.’ Watching her body language, Alessio reached for his drink. ‘Are you always this wound up? Your blood pressure must be sky-high.’
‘I’m not wound up.’ But even the way she was sitting shrieked of tension. She perched on the edge of her chair, her back straight and her hands on the pad in front of her, ready to take notes.
‘Do you even know how to relax? Or is it just that you’re afraid to relax with me?’ It was as if she was watching herself all the time, using iron willpower to make sure that she didn’t slip up.
‘I relax when the time is appropriate. This isn’t that time. So what’s happening with your client?’ She was brisk and businesslike, her blonde hair drawn back from her face, her shirt buttoned almost to the throat. ‘What time are we meeting him?’
‘I have no idea. He hasn’t arrived.’
Exasperation shone in her eyes. ‘So, when is he coming?’
‘When it suits him.’
‘You haven’t asked?’
Alessio smiled. ‘I’m sure he’ll arrive when he’s ready.’
‘But you’ve adjusted your working schedule to accommodate him—’
‘And he’s paying me for the privilege,’ Alessio drawled softly. ‘How he chooses to use my time is entirely up to him. In the meantime we’re free to—relax and get to know each other better.’ He saw the movement in her throat as she swallowed.
‘I don’t want to get to know you better. I already know you well enough.’
‘But didn’t you say that it was important to delve deeper?’
‘You’re twisting my words.’
‘I’m merely playing your own words back to you.’
She turned her head and looked at the ocean, but he could see the desperation in her eyes and she took several small breaths before turning back to him. ‘If you don’t need me to work immediately then perhaps you could lend me the file and I’ll go back to the villa and make some notes. At least then I’ll be prepared when he finally turns up. I can sign a confidentiality agreement if you think it’s necessary.’
He wondered what it would take to get her out of that navy skirt and away from her legal pad. ‘Do you sail?’
‘Sorry?’ She looked startled. ‘Why are you asking that?’
‘Because we need to find a way of passing the time until my client arrives. I have other suggestions, of course …’ Alessio allowed his sentence to remain unfinished, enjoying the confusion in her eyes.
‘I don’t need you to entertain me.’ Apparently that last remark was sufficient to make her reach for her drink. Lifting it to her lips, she took a large sip and then put the glass carefully back down on the table. ‘If you have no immediate need for me, I’ll just stay in my villa and take the odd swim. You carry on and do whatever it is you usually do when you’re here.’ Her tight voice suggested that she knew exactly what his usual form of entertainment was, and Alessio laughed.
‘You’re going to swim?’
‘Why is that funny?’
‘Because I’ve never seen anyone swimming in a navy skirt before. And you seem determined not to be parted from yours.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘I just can’t imagine you relaxing enough to strip off.’
‘I’ve already told you—I’m perfectly capable of relaxing, Alessio.’
He studied her for a moment wondering what it was about her that was holding his attention. ‘In that case go and change out of those warm winter clothes and have a dip in the sea. I’ll pick you up at eight o’clock for dinner.’
‘I don’t have anything to change into.’
‘My staff will have rectified that by now, I’m sure.’ He’d given them an exact brief on what he wanted and now he was waiting with interest to see how Lindsay reacted to her new wardrobe. He had a feeling that the clothes she wore were part of her defence.
What would happen to her rigid control when she was no longer protected by the comforting security of navy blue or black?
She was convinced she had the mental strength to resist the chemistry between them.
Alessio suddenly discovered just how much he was looking forward to proving her wrong.
CHAPTER FIVE
LINDSAY stared at her reflection in despair.
When she’d returned to the villa to find the wardrobe stocked with a wide selection of summery clothes, she’d been relieved and grateful.
Reluctant though she’d been to admit as much to Alessio, she was boiling and had been finding her skirt scratchy and uncomfortable in the shimmering Caribbean heat.
Relief had turned to amazement as she’d examined the contents of her new wardrobe more closely.
Unaccustomed to such a degree of luxury, she was woman enough to feel a flare of excitement as she’d rifled through the dresses on the rail and sifted her way through beautifully folded tops and cardigans, all separated by tissue paper to minimise creasing. And it hadn’t just been clothes. There were shoes, all in her size, bags, accessories and a basket heaped with a selection of exclusive make-up, all new and still in the packaging.
But her laughter had faded as soon as she’d realised that none of the clothes was what she would have chosen. It was true that neither of the two skirts she had with her was suitable for a week on a Caribbean Island. For a start they were just too hot and, yes, she’d be the first to agree that they were also too formal.
But there was informal and then there was—romantic. Romantic and sexy. And the entire wardrobe that had been provided for her seemed to fall into that category. She’d spent half an hour rifling through the rail over and over again, searching for something that said ‘work in a warm climate’. But everything in front of her just seemed to shriek ‘take me, take me’.
The options had either been too short, too fitted, too low cut, or too dressy.
One dress in particular had caught her attention and she’d looked at it in despair, knowing that only an extremely sexually confident woman would dare to wear strapless, scarlet silk.
She certainly wasn’t that woman.
Which was why, in the end, she’d opted for the turquoise dress.
It shimmered in the light and had clearly been lovingly created by some top designer with seduction in mind.
It wasn’t quite as terrifying as the wicked scarlet dress, but it still made her feel uncomfortable.
How could she possibly join a man like Alessio Capelli for dinner wearing something like this?
It was asking for trouble.
For a start it was semi-transparent, presumably designed to be worn over glamorous underwear on an intimate occasion. Or possibly over a swimsuit, by someone so wealthy that shockingly expensive silk could be regarded as beachwear.
The rest of the wardrobe was much the same. Brightly coloured tops, beach dresses, long floating skirts—everything achingly feminine and designed for an ultra-romantic holiday.
But she wasn’t on holiday.
And knowing Alessio Capelli—knowing his ego and his arrogance—if she wore these clothes, he’d take it as a sign that she wanted to take their relationship a step further.
It was incredibly generous of him to have provided her with a suitable wardrobe, but—
Her eyes narrowed as a sudden thought struck her.
Generous? Was he being generous? Or was he testing her in some way?
Remembering the way he’d teased her, she suddenly realised that it was far more likely that there was a deeper, darker reason for the choice of clothes.
Angry with herself for being so naïve, she glared at her reflection in the mirror.
This wasn’t generosity on his part.
He wanted her to feel uncomfortable.
He wanted her out of her depth.
Apparently he found the unfortunate chemistry between them entertaining and he didn’t bother to pretend otherwise. But nor was he allowing her to pretend. He was upfront and straight about the attraction.
And she was honest enough with herself to admit that she was on dangerous ground. Alessio wasn’t a man that women could easily ignore. He was, quite simply, the most devastatingly attractive man she’d ever met. Sinfully handsome, he had a way of looking at a woman that made her think of nothing but sex.
And it wasn’t just looks. If it had been, perhaps she would have found him easier to resist, but his sharp intelligence made him stimulating company and she was finding it impossible to forget how kind he’d been to her on the plane when she’d been ill.
That kindness had been all the more surprising given his reputation.
If she was honest, the chemistry between them was starting to terrify her.
She, of all people, knew the dangers of that degree of chemistry—she knew just how easy it was to confuse overwhelming physical attraction with something deeper. And yet, even knowing that, her body still hummed and simmered and responded to the lazy, suggestive glint in his eyes.
And she didn’t want that. Dear God, she really, really didn’t want that.
She’d seen where that could lead.
Feeling intensely vulnerable and incredibly alone, Lindsay sank down on the edge of the bed and forced herself to do something that she never usually allowed herself to do.