Ruthless Revenge: Sweet Surrender: Seducing His Enemy's Daughter / Surrendering to the Vengeful Italian / Soldier Under Siege

‘You won’t be there?’ Concern flared in Sanderson’s eyes. Excellent. It was time he discovered he couldn’t keep running from the consequences of his actions.

‘My staff are competent to handle the meeting. I plan to be with Ella, getting to know her better.’

‘I’m sure she’ll love that.’

Not initially, Donato knew, but he’d change her mind. He looked forward to it.

‘Does that mean you liked my notion of a Salazar-Sanderson marriage?’ Sanderson looked urbane and relaxed, yet the ripple on the surface of his whisky betrayed him.

Donato scrutinised him, from his deep tan and perennially gold hair to the gloss only close acquaintance with serious money could buy. That didn’t hide the mean lines around his mouth, the avaricious gleam in those pale blue eyes or the pugnacious angle of that thick jaw.

He knew what Sanderson was. Imagine him as a father. No wonder his eldest daughter was a beautiful waste of space. Which made his younger daughter...what, exactly?

‘Donato?’ Sanderson didn’t sound quite so smug now.

‘The marriage idea?’ Donato took his time, relishing the other man’s unease. ‘I think it’s an excellent one.’

Sanderson’s eyes widened momentarily before his face eased into a calculating look. ‘Ella is a special girl, and lucky.’ His toothy smile reminded Donato of a crocodile. Or maybe it was just that he knew Sanderson to be as cold-blooded as any reptile.

Despite the money he’d made, Donato had no illusions that he was love’s young dream. Not with his criminal record. He was the sort of man parents prayed their daughter would never bring home.

Yet here was Sanderson thrusting his unsuspecting daughter into Donato’s arms. Was there anything Sanderson wouldn’t do for money?

‘And Ella agreed?’ Pale eyes fixed on him.

‘Ella understands what I want. We’ll sort out the details soon.’

‘It will be a pleasure welcoming you to the family.’ Sanderson made to shake hands but Donato pretended not to notice, turning to snag a wine glass from a passing waiter.

‘Here’s to the wedding that will make us family.’ Sanderson raised his glass.

Donato suppressed a wave of nausea at the notion of being so intimately linked with this man. Sanderson had destroyed the one person Donato had ever loved. The only one who’d ever loved him. Sanderson had destroyed countless others too and didn’t give a damn. But Donato did, and he’d make sure Sanderson paid in full.

‘To the wedding,’ he murmured. ‘Soon, don’t you think?’

‘Definitely.’ Sanderson nodded. ‘Though Ella might—’

‘I’m sure I can persuade her to an early date.’ The thought of persuading Ella made his blood hum. He was counting the hours till he saw her again. That was a first.

His host nodded. ‘I knew you’d be the man for her. A lovely girl, but she needs a firm hand.’

Was that how Sanderson had managed his family? Donato’s investigators had concentrated on Sanderson’s business activities, especially any nasty little financial secrets, not on his family. Sympathy flickered, even for party girl Felicity. But most of all for Ella. Ella, with the wary eyes, who didn’t believe she was beautiful.

‘Don’t worry. You can leave Ella to me.’

‘Good man.’ Sanderson waved his whisky glass. ‘I suppose you’d prefer to marry in Melbourne so I suggest—’

‘No, I couldn’t do that. I know the bride’s family organises the wedding. You’ll want to give Ella a big society event.’ Donato smiled, genuine amusement surfacing at Sanderson’s dismay. Obviously, in his scheming to snare Donato’s support, and money, he hadn’t reckoned with footing the bill for a lavish celebration.

‘That’s kind, Donato. But you’re a very private man. Ella will understand if you want to tie the knot quietly.’

Donato shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t dream of depriving her. The bigger the celebration the better. It will signal the beginning of our partnership.’ There, that made him smile. ‘Let’s make it the society event of the decade.’

Donato watched his host turn a pasty shade of green. ‘I realise it’s a huge task organising such an event at short notice so I’ll give you some assistance.’

‘That’s very good of you, Donato. I won’t say no.’

‘Good. I’ll lend you someone to help with the preparations. I know just the person. She’s got an eye for quality and understands we’ll want no expense spared.’ He put up his hand when Sanderson would have interrupted. ‘Don’t thank me. It’s the least I can do.’

Sanderson bit back a response, his expression for a moment ugly, though quickly masked.

‘Now, if you’ll just give me Ella’s mobile number? I forgot to get it earlier.’

Interestingly, for a man who thought his daughter so ‘special’, Sanderson didn’t have the number programmed into his phone. He had to go inside to get it, leaving Donato to consider the outcome of tonight’s events.

Sanderson was on the hook.

As for his absurd proposal that Donato marry his daughter...that was the bid of a desperate man.

But Donato would play along. It would be the icing on the cake to know his enemy had spent his last credit on a huge public wedding that would never take place. Not only would Sanderson be ruined beyond redemption, the farce of the non-wedding would make him a social pariah.

Even if Donato had to come in quietly later and pay the bills so no suppliers were out of pocket, the expense would be worth it. Sanderson would be in the gutter, ashamed and ostracised, bankrupt and unable to start again. He deserved far worse but it would do.

Only one thing niggled. When Sanderson had first suggested marriage, Donato had had no qualms about agreeing. From what he’d learned, Felicity had a Teflon-coated heart. She’d thrive on the notoriety and the monetary compensation Donato would provide when the wedding was cancelled.

But Ella was different. He didn’t yet have her measure and that gave him pause. He never went into negotiations without knowing his opponent. Or in this case his partner.

His lips tilted in a satisfied smile. No, it didn’t matter if this once he winged it. He’d work out a way to compensate her. But he had no intention of walking away. Not merely because this dovetailed so nicely with his plans for revenge. But because he wanted Ella.

He intended to enjoy her, and their courtship, to the full.

CHAPTER FIVE

‘’LO...?’ ELLA DRAGGED the phone to her ear, burrowing deeper into her bed. It was far too early on a Saturday morning for anyone to call.

‘Not a morning person, Ella?’ The deep voice poured through the phone to ripple like soft suede over her bare skin. Instantly she was alert, her eyes popping open to survey the morning light sneaking around the edges of her bedroom curtains.

‘Who is this?’ Her voice sounded prim, almost schoolmarmish, but it was her best effort. She’d gone to sleep with the sound of Donato’s voice in her ears; she’d even dreamt of it when she eventually managed to snatch some sleep. It was unfair to be confronted with it now when she hadn’t had time to gather herself.

‘As if you don’t know, sweet Ella. Did I wake you?’ The words worked like a caress, drawing her skin taut, jerking her free of the last traces of sleep. That voice should be outlawed. It was too decadent, too delicious to be unleashed on an unsuspecting woman.

‘Yes. No!’ She rolled her eyes in frustration. ‘Who’s speaking?’

‘Forgotten your fiancé already?’ His voice plumbed new depths, curling heat right down inside her. ‘I can see I’ll have to try harder.’

‘Donato.’ No point pretending. ‘What do you want?’ She wouldn’t dignify that fiancé joke with a response.

‘I told you last night want I wanted.’

Her. That was what he’d said. And her body had gone into libido overdrive at the look in his sultry eyes.

‘But for now just tell me, are you still in bed?’

‘What if I am?’ Ella frowned. Why? Was he somewhere nearby? Had her father given him her address? Surely not. Donato Salazar wouldn’t venture into the working-class suburbs in search of her. Though, after what she’d learned about him on the Web when she got home, he wasn’t a stranger to poor neighbourhoods. She still found it hard to believe what she’d discovered.

‘Tell me what you’re wearing.’ The words raked her skin, drawing it tight over a belly that clenched needily.

Just at the sound of his voice?

Ella bit back a moan. This couldn’t be happening to her.

‘Tell me, Ella. Pyjamas?’ He paused. ‘A nightie?’ Another pause, longer this time. ‘Silk and lace?’

She firmed her lips, not letting herself rise to the bait.

‘Or do you sleep naked?’

The gasp escaped her lips before she could stop it. Weirdly, it felt as if, just by saying it, he must know.

And now he did. She’d given herself away with that intake of breath. She heard it in his voice. ‘Give me your address and I’ll be straight over.’

‘No!’ Her voice hit top register. Her heart was pounding as she heard his dark-chocolate chuckle against her ear.

She wanted to tell him she didn’t usually sleep naked. It had just been so hot last night and she couldn’t get comfortable, even after a cold shower. But she knew he’d put two and two together and realise it wasn’t the summer heat that had kept her from sleep, but thoughts of him. His ego was big enough already.

‘Why are you ringing, Donato?’

‘It’s not enough that I want to hear your voice?’

That sounded like a parody of her own feelings. She tried to despise this man who was a crony of her father’s, who’d toyed with her last night. Yet she kept the phone pressed to her ear, luxuriating in the soft rumble of his voice. As if she wanted that flurry of desire rippling through her.

Ella shuffled up in the bed, yanking the pillows up behind her so she could sit. Lying naked in bed with Donato’s voice in her ear was wrong on so many levels.

‘Get to the point, Donato. Why did you call?’

‘Do you usually sleep so late?’

Ella peered at the time, stunned to find it was after nine. ‘No.’ Usually she was up at six to fit in Pilates or a swim before work.

‘So you had a disturbed night? Were you dreaming about me?’ That thread of satisfaction in his voice grew stronger.

‘Is there a point to this call?’ She sighed ostentatiously as if she hadn’t indeed spent half the night taunted by dreams of him. ‘Or do I hang up now?’

‘Give me your address so I can collect you. We’re having lunch together.’

Ella scowled. She told herself it was because of his assumption she’d go along with what he wanted. But what unnerved her was the little jiggle of excitement that skipped through her.

‘Ella?’

‘If you’d invited me to lunch I’d be obliged to thank you for the invitation before I declined. But as there was no invitation that’s unnecessary.’

‘Absolutely,’ he said smoothly. ‘Because we will be lunching together.’

Ella shifted against the pillows. She shouldn’t enjoy this fruitless argument. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to end the call. Not when basking in the sound of Donato’s voice was the closest she’d come to enjoying a man’s company in a long, long time.

What did that say about the state of her love life?

Pathetic! That was it.

‘What’s your address, Ella?’

‘I’m surprised a man with your resources doesn’t already have it.’ Her father would have given it to him in an instant, if he’d been able to find it. ‘Don’t tell me your dossier on the Sanderson family doesn’t include something so basic.’

‘I don’t have a dossier on your family.’

‘I thought you’d be a better liar, Donato.’

Instead of taking offence he chuckled again, the sound like warm water lapping through her veins. Ella’s hand on the phone grew clammy and her bare nipples budded. Frowning, she snatched the sheet and dragged it up, anchoring it under her arms. As if that would protect her from whatever this magic was he wove around her.

‘I have a dossier on your father’s business and on his private...interests.’ Ella winced, not liking the sound of that. There were some things she didn’t need to know about her father. ‘And some information on your sister.’

‘You told me you didn’t set your investigators onto her!’

‘I didn’t need to. A quick trawl through the social pages was more than ample.’

Ella hated the way he dismissed Fuzz as if she were nothing. Her sister might be flawed but she wasn’t as bad as all that. She just needed purpose, and freedom from their father’s influence.

‘Really?’ Her voice dripped disapproval.

‘It seemed a sensible precaution since your father suggested I marry her.’

And now Fuzz was out of the picture that left Ella.

Ella glanced around the bedroom with its Monet print on the wall and her pride and joy, the nineteen-twenties tub chair she’d rescued from a garage sale and reconditioned with the help of a night class. The wooden legs glowed with polish and the sage-green upholstery was restful as well as pretty.

The idea of strangers nosing into her world, ordinary as it was, picking through the details of her life, set her teeth on edge.

‘I don’t make it into the social pages. How much have you found out about me?’

‘Not nearly enough.’ The skin at Ella’s nape drew tight at the sultry note in that deep voice.

‘Your investigators only work business hours? You disappoint me, Donato. I’d have thought they’d scurry to do the bidding of a man with your reputation even late last night.’

‘You’ve been doing some digging of your own.’ He didn’t sound fazed.

‘Don’t tell me you’re offended?’

‘On the contrary, I’m pleased. It proves that, despite your rather emphatic goodbye, you anticipated meeting me again.’

Ella scowled. He was right. Why bother finding out about him if she’d cut him from her life? She’d had an insidious certainty it wasn’t so easy to get rid of Donato Salazar.

No, it was more than that. She’d wanted to know everything she could about him. No man had ever made such an impact on her.

‘And as for hiring investigators to work through the night...’

‘Yes?’ She shifted uneasily. Was someone even now interviewing her neighbours or accessing her records?

‘You made it clear you believed that an unforgivable breach of privacy.’

‘So?’

‘So I’m not going to do it to you.’

‘Sorry?’

‘You heard me, Ella. I’m not in the habit of saying things I don’t mean.’

For a moment words eluded her. ‘Just like that? Because I said so?’

‘Just like that.’

Ella’s pulse faltered then tripped to an unfamiliar beat. He was serious. Yet she couldn’t quite believe he’d renege on using the power his money could buy just because it offended her.

Why would he do that?

She shoved her hair back from her face. To her amazement her fingers were ever so slightly unsteady.

What did he want from her?

Surely he’d been lying last night, saying he wanted to know her. As for that nonsense about them marrying—

‘I want to know everything about you.’ His deep voice burred in her ear. ‘But I want to find out from you.’

She’d known Donato Salazar was dangerous, but still she wasn’t prepared for the way he devastated her defences. It took precious seconds to find her voice. ‘I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed.’

‘Nothing about you is disappointing, believe me, Ella.’ There it was again, that caress when he said her name. As if those two simple syllables were an endearment.

‘I meant—’ she set her jaw ‘—you’ll be disappointed because we’re not going to meet again.’

He was silent and stupidly something like anxiety feathered through her. At the idea this was the last time she’d speak with him? Impossible!

‘Are you scared of me, Ella?’

‘Scared? No.’ Strangely enough, it was true. She was scared of what he made her feel, of the urgent, restless woman she’d become in the short time since they’d met. But not scared of him.

‘Not even after what you discovered in your research on me?’ The banter was gone from his voice. He sounded deadly serious.

Deadly. Now there was a word. Last night she’d thought he looked dangerous. Then, at home, sitting with her computer, she’d discovered how right she’d been. How many people had she known personally who’d been to prison for assault?

None.

Was it naïve of her to believe that, despite his teenage criminal record, Donato Salazar wouldn’t hurt her?

She’d been stunned to read about his crime and his prison term. At the same time it went some way to explaining the sense she’d had last night that he was a man apart from everyone else.

As a nurse she’d worked with a huge range of people, from the frail aged to the bloodied survivors of brawls to the drug-addicted and downright dangerous. She was cautious, methodical, never taking unnecessary risks, especially doing home visits. But the only alarm she felt now was at her own avid response to Donato.

‘I’m not afraid of you because you’ve got a criminal record, Donato.’ In the intervening years he’d built a reputation for ruthlessness in business but there’d never been a hint he was anything but a model citizen. He’d been lauded for his work supporting inner-city youth centres and legislation to assist victims of abuse.

‘Then you’re unique.’ Was that bitterness she heard? She hitched herself higher against the pillows.

‘Are you saying I should be? That you’re violent?’

‘No.’ His voice was flat. ‘I’m not that person any more. I’ve learned to restrain my impulses. Instead I channel them into something more productive.’

He said nothing for a moment and she wondered what was going through his mind. ‘So, you’re not frightened. But you are curious.’

‘You’re not the average Australian business tycoon.’

His laugh was sharp but appealing and despite herself Ella’s lips twitched. How could she feel at ease with this man? His past and his dealings with her father should warn her off, yet she felt incredibly drawn to him. It wasn’t just desire; she was fascinated by the way his mind worked. She enjoyed their verbal sparring.

‘You’ve met lots of tycoons, have you?’

‘A few.’

‘And you weren’t impressed.’

By the men with whom her father did business? ‘Not usually.’

‘But still you want to know me better. Here’s the chance to satisfy your curiosity, Ella. Over lunch. We have a table reserved at the Opera House restaurant. I’m assured the food is excellent.’

But it wasn’t food on his mind, or even conversation. The low pitch of his voice was pure seduction. Ella pressed her thighs together, pretending she didn’t feel that tiny pulse of awareness awakening between them.

‘No, thank you.’

There was a pause. ‘Has anyone ever told you you’re stubborn?’

‘Yes.’

‘You know you want to. You’re denying yourself as well as me.’

‘Don’t presume to know my mind, Donato.’

He sighed. ‘Don’t make me force you, Ella.’

She tucked the sheet more securely under her arms and sat straighter. ‘You can’t force me.’

‘What if I told you your father’s financial viability is totally dependent on my support? And that support is dependent on the wedding he’s organising for us.’

‘You’re lying. You don’t want to marry me. We discussed it last night.’

What sort of bizarre game was he playing?

‘You discussed it, Ella, but you wouldn’t listen to my response.’ He paused and the silence thickened around her. ‘Ask your father if you don’t believe me. He’ll confirm it. The wedding goes ahead or there’s no deal. And if there’s no deal...’

CHAPTER SIX

DONATO WAS WAITING for her, standing in the doorway of a white, two-storey art deco gem of a mansion that made Ella’s mouth water with envy. In the forecourt sat a gleaming convertible in dark red. Not a modern supercar but a vintage model with running boards that made her think of champagne picnics and romantic escapes to the country.

She choked down annoyance. It was easier to loathe the man before she realised they shared the same tastes.

But this wasn’t his home. Donato lived in Melbourne. Maybe he was a guest here. He probably lived in a soulless box of a house and had a chauffeur drive him in a stretch limo.

The thought soothed her. She didn’t like the notion they had anything in common. Anything other than that disconcerting stir of attraction. And the suspicion she’d got last night that he wasn’t a fan of her father. Clearly that was pure imagination, since he proposed to link himself with Reg Sanderson’s family.

Ella stopped her little car, telling herself it was the house that quickened her pulse. Not the man.

With huge streamlined windows and a curved end like the prow of a ship, the old house was stunning. The glimpse of dark blue ocean glittering beyond it enhanced its beauty, as did the lush garden that hid it from the security gates. Gates that opened as soon as she’d nosed her car off the street.

Had Donato been watching for her, or his security staff? She’d seen no one on the long drive from the street to the clifftop house.

Now there he was under the huge circular portico, his expression unreadable. Against the bright beaten copper of the doors he looked severe. She told herself it was because he wore black trousers and shirt, the sleeves rolled casually up his arms. Yet the contrast between the man and the bright metal behind him reminded her again of that fallen-angel image.

There was nothing casual about his wide stance. Or the way he watched her. Through the windscreen Ella felt the sizzle of his dark eyes. Her skin tingled, her blood a rush of adrenalin as she stared back.

The scary thing about Donato Salazar was the way he saw beyond the surface to the woman she was inside. To the woman she’d never dared let herself be.

Ella had never felt so naked as with him. It was as if he saw through a lifetime’s defences. He challenged her in a way no man ever had. Donato called to a reckless side she’d never let loose.

For a moment fear pinned her to her seat. Then she thrust open her door and got out, to be instantly enveloped by the summer heat.

Over the car roof their gazes collided and meshed. Ella’s pulse racketed and her insides clenched in a way that wasn’t about fear but anticipation.

How could she want a man who’d calmly decreed she had to marry him or watch her father ruined?

Setting her shoulders, Ella slammed the door and stalked across the terrace.

He didn’t move towards her, just stood: tall, brooding and enigmatic. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, making him look nonchalant. That only spiked her annoyance.

Even worse, he looked every bit as stunning as he had last night. The muted lighting at the party hadn’t exaggerated the wide set of his shoulders or the lean strength of his body. Her gaze skittered over corded forearms, dusted with dark hair, and heavy thigh muscles. For a shaky moment she wondered how it would feel to be held against that hard masculine frame.

Fear skidded down her spine. She didn’t do lust. Not like this. And not with a man like Donato Salazar.

He smiled as she approached and the pale scar on one side of his face disappeared into the groove running up his cheek. Just like that white heat shimmered through her feminine core. She blinked, stumbling a little on an uneven flagstone, and reminded herself she was too furious to feel attraction.

Nevertheless, she wished she’d taken time to hunt out a pair of heels so she didn’t have to tilt her chin to look at him.

‘Ella, you’re looking particularly vibrant today.’

‘Vibrant?’ She shook her head. ‘The word is angry.’

‘It suits you.’ His smile didn’t falter. If anything he looked satisfied. But despite the smile there was something guarded about his expression. His eyes held secrets.