Protecting His Defiant Innocent

‘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.