Seducing His Enemy's Daughter

Ella watched him go. Ridiculously, she wanted to call him back. As if she hadn’t spent most of her life avoiding him. As if he were the sort of father to protect her.

For the absolute conviction stiffening her sinews warned she really did need protection.

Abruptly she swung around, her gaze lifting until—there it was again—that jangle across her senses, that taut feeling of suspense as her gaze locked with Donato Salazar’s.

His mouth tipped up in a smile that tugged at her heart, dragging it hard against her ribs, making it thrash like a landed fish. Her breath quickened as everything in her that was female responded to his ultra-male charisma.

Yet his eyes showed no softening. That stare probed her very being and found her wanting.

CHAPTER TWO

DONATO LOOKED DOWN into those clear eyes and felt the impact like the ripple of a stone plunging into deep, still water.

They weren’t ordinary eyes. Oh, no, not Ms Ella Sanderson’s. He’d yet to discover anything ordinary about her. He’d come here expecting her father’s daughter and instead found...

What, exactly?

He didn’t know yet but he intended to find out.

He disliked being caught out.

Years ago, in prison, being caught off guard could have cost his life. It had almost cost him an eye. He’d made it his life’s work to be in control, the one pulling the strings, never again reacting to forces he couldn’t handle.

It had been a long time since anyone took him by surprise. He didn’t like it.

Even though he liked what he saw. Too much.

Those eyes, for a start. Mercurial. Some indefinable shade between blue and grey that turned to silvery hoar frost when he riled her. He’d felt her disapproval like the jab from a shard of ice, straight to his belly.

Yet his overwhelming response was to wonder how her eyes would look when rapture overtook her. With him buried deep inside, feeling her shudder around him.

Was it any wonder he felt annoyed? She’d hijacked his thoughts, momentarily interfering with his plans.

She wasn’t what he’d expected, or wanted. No man wanted that sudden sensation that he was no longer master of his destiny. That perfidious fate still had a few nasty surprises in store.

Fate be damned. Donato had stopped being its victim years ago.

‘Alone at last,’ he murmured, watching her mouth tighten.

So, she didn’t like this thing sparking and snarling between them either. But as well as her caution and disapproval he sensed puzzlement. As if she didn’t recognise the syrupy thickening of the atmosphere for what it was—carnal attraction.

Instant. Absolute. Undeniable.

‘There’s no need for us to be alone. Your business is with my father.’ Her jaw angled belligerently.

Donato felt a quickening in his belly.

How long since a woman had reacted to him like that? Not with disdain because of his origins, but defiantly. The last few years had been littered with women eager to grab what they could—sex, money, status, even the thrill of being with a man with his dark reputation. How long since a woman he wanted had been difficult to attain?

For he found he wanted Ms Ella Sanderson with a primal hunger that would probably shock her. It disturbed him and he’d thought himself unshockable.

‘But tonight is about socialising. This is a party, Ella.’ He slowed on her name, enjoying the taste of it almost as much as he enjoyed the flicker of response in those bright eyes.

Oh, yes. Ms Sanderson wanted him as much as he did her. The way she swiped her lips with the tip of her tongue. The telltale tremble of the diamond drop earrings beside her slender throat. The way her eyelids drooped as if anticipating sexual pleasure. The quick rise of her lovely breasts against the azure satin of that tight dress.

Her nipples pebbled, thrusting towards him. It was all he could do not to reach out and anchor his palms against her breasts. He wanted their weight in his hands. He wanted more than he could take here, on one of the terraces leading down to the harbour from her father’s mansion.

Donato shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and saw her eyes narrow to slits as if daring him to stare at her body.

‘Do I disturb you, Ella?’

If she didn’t want him to admire the view she should have worn something else, not a dress that clung to her curves like plastic wrap. In that at least she hadn’t surprised him. He’d expected Sanderson’s daughter to be like her father, show rather than substance. Till she’d turned to face him and he’d known with absolute certainty she was different.

‘Of course not.’ He liked her low, confident voice, so totally unlike the high-pitched giggles of the women by the pool, already shedding their inhibitions. ‘Are you in the habit of...disturbing people?’ Her tone wasn’t arch with flirtation but serious, as if trying to fathom him.

That made two of them.

He shrugged, noting the way her gaze darted to his shoulders. Had he ever met a woman so primed and physically aware of him?

It made him want to take what he desired straight up, then worry about deciphering her later.

He took a step closer and she stilled. Even her breath seemed to stop. Her nostrils dilated. Did she breathe in his scent just as he found himself discovering she smelled of...sweet peas? The perfume of an old-fashioned garden.

Memory blindsided him. Of a garden in sunshine. Of his mother’s all too rare laugh and Jack’s patient tone as he taught them the difference between weeds and the precious vegetable seedlings.

How long since he’d thought of that?

It belonged in another lifetime.

‘Donato?’

He stiffened, registering her hand, lifted as if reaching for him. Then it dropped to her side. He didn’t know if he felt relief or regret.

He wanted to touch her, badly. But not here. Once they touched there would be no holding back.

* * *

‘Some people find me disturbing.’

It would be comforting to believe he had this impact on everyone. Yet to Ella her response seemed utterly personal, as if something linked the pair of them.

‘Why is that?’

Those jet eyebrows shot up. What? Surely not everyone was bowled over by those dark, fallen-angel looks? There must be some, heterosexual men and the blind, who were unaffected.

‘What do you know about me?’

She shrugged. ‘Just that my father wants to do business with you. Ergo you’re rich and powerful.’ She snapped her mouth shut before adding something uncomplimentary. She’d already shot her mouth off when she should have been smoothing the way for the news that her sister wouldn’t be playing happy families.

It was remarkable how he’d provoked her into lashing out. Her profession required discretion.

‘I know you’re from Melbourne, visiting Sydney for a major project.’

‘That’s all?’ His look penetrated, as if peering past the gloss of her sister’s clothes and jewellery to the plain, no-frills woman beneath. Her traitorous body heated and she had to lock her knees.

‘That’s all.’ She’d had no time for an Internet search. She’d barely had time after meeting her father to find suitable clothes to wear.

‘You take so little interest in your father’s business?’

‘Yes.’ She didn’t elaborate. What her father did was no longer any concern of hers. Except when it threatened Rob and Fuzz. ‘That is—’

His raised hand silenced her. ‘Don’t explain. It’s refreshing to meet someone honest enough to admit they’re only interested in money, rather than how it’s made.’

‘You’ve got me wrong.’ He made her sound like a leech.

‘Have I? How?’

Belatedly she shook her head, caution stirring. ‘Never mind. It’s not relevant.’

They’d never meet again. It was a sign of weakness to worry about what he thought of her. Besides, she baulked at Donato Salazar knowing anything about her. Knowledge was power and he looked the sort to wield his power mercilessly.

‘And what is relevant?’

‘The reason you’re here tonight. Felicity.’

‘I came here expecting to meet her.’ His gaze drifted over the crowd on the upper terraces.

‘She’s unavailable. She couldn’t be here.’

‘So your father mentioned.’

Ella wondered what else her father had said. She’d bet her whole savings account he hadn’t admitted Fuzz had done a runner to north Queensland rather than face this man.

The idea of Fuzz anywhere without cold champagne on tap, working spa baths and an adoring audience was unbelievable. Yet Rob said they were camped in a couple of rooms at the old motel, making do with a primus stove and cold showers while the renovations were underway.

For the first time Fuzz was in love. Matthew, Rob’s friend, now business partner, was decent, honest and hard-working, a rarity in her family’s social circle. It gave Ella hope that Fuzz had fallen for him rather than the smarmy powerbrokers she’d dated before. Matthew’s decision to turn the rundown motel he’d inherited into an upmarket resort had been the catalyst Rob and Fuzz needed to break from Sydney and their father.

‘So you’re standing in for your sister.’ Donato’s dark voice trawled like pure alcohol in Ella’s veins, making her blood tingle. ‘What could be more pleasant?’

His expression changed, lines deepening, gaze piercing. He looked...predatory.

Instantly heat bloomed.

‘Not in the way you think!’ Ella blurted.

‘You know my thoughts?’ Again that rise of slashing ebony eyebrows. It made him look like a haughty Spanish grandee of old.

‘Of course not.’ How did he throw her off balance so easily? She’d spent years learning to keep her thoughts to herself and her emotions under control. She always had both feet on the ground.

Yet around Donato Salazar she felt different.

He looked intent and assessing and his stare sent anxiety spidering across her flesh, drawing it tight. Ella wasn’t used to such close masculine attention. Not from men like him. She felt out of her depth and that made her bristle. She decided to change the subject.

‘I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself tonight. My father’s parties are renowned.’

A shrill cry split the air, followed by a splash in the pool. There was laughter then another splash.

‘So I gather.’ His expression didn’t change but there was steel in his tone that told her he had no time for party games. ‘But I’m here to become acquainted with your family. With you, Ella.’

There it was again, that tremor of excitement as he said her name. Ella rubbed her hands up her bare arms to smooth sudden goose bumps. Too late she saw her mistake, when his gaze zeroed in on the movement. It wasn’t cold. The night was balmy. He knew she was reacting to him.

Ella shouldn’t have let pride tempt her into raiding her sister’s wardrobe. Years as the frump of the family, the one with puppy fat and boring brown hair instead of glorious golden locks, had made her determined to look good. Now, wedged into her sister’s dress, perched in glittery shoes, she craved her sensible trousers and flats.

She turned to lean on the waist-high terrace wall, pretending to look at the harbour view.

Donato stood over a metre away. Yet she felt him as if they touched. How was it possible?

‘I didn’t know until tonight that your father had three children. I’d only heard of two.’

That was no surprise. Reg Sanderson never boasted about his boring middle child as he did about his clever son or gorgeous older daughter. Until tonight Ella had been persona non grata.

‘Felicity and Rob are closer to him. Rob even worked for him.’ Until too-close exposure to their father’s business soured his enthusiasm. Rob was a corporate lawyer and Ella suspected he’d seen too much of their father’s business tactics.

‘Yet I haven’t seen photos of you with your sister in the press.’

Ella blinked. ‘You read the social pages?’ He looked the kind of man who only read finance and politics.

‘You’d be surprised what I read.’

She frowned. ‘It matters to you, does it? Who’s seen at high-profile parties?’

‘It matters that I understand people when I’m about to do business with them.’

Ella stiffened. ‘Your business is with my father, not me or Felicity.’

His regard was enigmatic and unblinking. Challenging.

‘You were checking up on her?’

He shrugged. ‘Isn’t it natural that I take an interest in your family?’

Since he planned to marry into it. Her stomach clenched.

‘Did you hire investigators too?’ She whipped around to face him full on.

‘Why would that bother you?’

‘Because it would be an invasion of privacy. It would be—’ she shuddered ‘—intrusive.’

Had there been cameras trained on her sister when she partied? When she and Matthew were together? Ella frowned. Fuzz mightn’t be the best sister in the world but she was the only one Ella had.

‘Did you spy on my sister?’ Ella stepped up to Donato, her hands finding her hips, her bottom lip jutting.

‘Your sister? No.’ He was staring at her mouth.

Crazily, she felt her lips go dry. She swallowed and he watched the movement. How could it feel as if he trailed a finger down her throat when he hadn’t lifted a hand?

Hormones. They danced riotously, making her heart drum against her ribcage and her insides clench needily.

Ella swiped her parched lips with her tongue and wished she hadn’t. His look seared. She wanted to back up a step but he’d know why. She was stuck there, her neck arched to meet his intense scrutiny, her body taut as a spinnaker billowing and snapping in a sudden gale.

She didn’t imagine the turbulence in the air. It was real and it emanated from him.

‘You didn’t hire investigators?’ she pressed.

He shook his head, eyes never leaving hers. ‘No one investigated you or your siblings. Otherwise I’d have known about you before tonight, wouldn’t I?’

Ella drew in a deep breath, searching for calm. Trying to ignore the way her bra scraped her over-sensitive breasts and budding nipples. Trying to concentrate on the conversation, not how this man made her feel.

It took a moment to realise what he hadn’t said.

He’d said nothing about whether he’d had her father investigated.

A sound made her turn. It was a waiter with a laden tray, coming down the stairs. Ella moved towards him. Her throat was dry but more, she craved something to distract her from the sensation of being cut off alone with Donato.

‘Drink, sir? Ma’am?’

‘Champagne, Ella?’ Donato was right behind her. Had she really thought to escape so easily?

‘Water, please.’

‘Sensible choice.’ He took two glasses of sparkling water and nodded his thanks to the waiter, who headed back to the higher terraces. Ella watched him go, wondering what would happen if she simply followed.

That wouldn’t work. She needed to sort this out here, in private, away from curious eyes.

‘Sensible?’ Did he think she’d drink too much then lose her inhibitions?

Donato held out a drink, touching only the bottom of the glass, as if careful of any glancing contact.

Ella was inordinately grateful. Since they’d met she’d felt his presence like a touch—on her lips, her skin, her breasts. She suspected the real thing—his skin against hers—might be her undoing.

Carefully she took the glass. ‘Thanks.’

‘Sometimes it’s wise to keep a clear head. Tonight is one of those times.’

She’d lifted the glass to her lips but paused. Was he talking about her father’s idea that he marry Fuzz? Or did he refer to the swirl of attraction enveloping them?

‘About my father’s proposal...’

‘Which one?’

Ella stared. There was more than one?

Of course there was. The old man no doubt had a whole raft of business proposals for Donato. He’d be looking to screw every dollar he could out of him.

‘About Felicity.’

‘Yes?’ Damn the man. He just stood there waiting, making her feel appallingly awkward.

Ella sipped her water, grateful for the cool fizz on her palate, easing the constriction in her throat. ‘She’s away long term. She has a commitment interstate.’

Donato nodded and Ella drew a relieved breath.

Of course he wasn’t interested in her father’s suggestion that they marry. Donato Salazar would pick his own woman. He’d just been too polite to tell her father his idea was old-fashioned and unnecessary.

‘She won’t be coming back to Sydney.’

‘So I understand.’ He paused. ‘Am I permitted to ask what keeps her away, or would that fall under the category of an invasion of privacy?’

Was he laughing at her?

‘It’s no secret. She’s working in Queensland, managing a large interior-design project.’

‘Really?’ One eyebrow cocked up. ‘I wasn’t aware your sister actually worked.’

Ella felt a slow burn radiate out from her belly. Not sexual arousal this time but shame on Fuzz’s behalf.

It was true. Her twenty-seven-year-old sister had never done a day’s paid work. The closest she’d come were charity modelling gigs. But that was changing. Fuzz was committed to this project. If she stuck at it this would be the making of her. Once she was away from their father—

‘As you say, Donato—’ Ella halted, thrown for a second by how much she enjoyed saying his name. She was like a teenager stricken by lust for the first time! ‘You don’t know us.’ She drew herself up, standing as tall as she could. ‘Fuzz... Felicity is part of the design team for a major Queensland resort.’ Well, it would be a major resort once it was finished.

‘This is the resort your brother has invested in?’

‘You know about that?’

‘Your father said he’d left the family firm in order to strike out on his own. Still in the same field though, entertainment and hospitality.’

‘Not quite the same. My father’s wealth is built on gambling, poker machines and casinos.’

‘Not just gambling.’ The riposte came quickly and Ella tried to read that crisp tone. There was something adamantine in his voice, something new that sent anxiety skidding down her backbone. Instinct twanged in warning. She took another long sip of iced water, grounding herself.

‘Your father has had diverse interests.’ Ella thought she saw his lip curl. Then the impression was gone. He looked back blandly.

‘Felicity has another reason for being in Queensland.’ She needed to make it clear her father’s scheme was impractical. ‘She’s living with her partner. They’re working together.’

‘A permanent relationship, then?’

‘Absolutely.’ More permanent, at least, than any of her sister’s previous relationships. ‘I know my father suggested you get to know Felicity better.’ She couldn’t bring herself to use the word marry. ‘But in the circumstances that’s not possible.’

‘I understand completely.’ Donato’s lips curved in a smile that did the strangest things to her internal organs.

The man was devastating. Totally mind-blowingly gorgeous. He looked like some lethally enthralling anti-hero bent on breaking every rule, perhaps even ravishing a few virgins along the way.

Ella blinked and stared. What had got into her head? Flights of fancy were so not her.

Donato moved in, blocking her view of the other terraces and instantly her nerves jangled. She tightened her grip on the water glass, slippery with condensation.

‘Your father thought our business partnership would be enhanced by a family tie. He suggested marriage.’

Ella waited for his derision at the idea. Instead she met only speculation in Donato’s gaze.

‘That’s not an option. Felicity is spoken for,’ she reiterated.

‘I hope she’ll be very happy.’ Donato raised his glass in salute. ‘And may I say how lucky I am that your father has another charming daughter to take her place?’

CHAPTER THREE

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

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

Her, as her sister’s replacement.

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

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

She reared back, water spilling from her glass.

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

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

‘Don’t patronise me.’

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

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

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

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

It should have horrified her yet it didn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The night air zapped and thickened.

‘I don’t know anything about you.’

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

Ella opened her mouth to snap that she felt nothing.

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

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

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

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