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

‘Okay.’ She braced herself for a probing question about her father’s business or ethics. That was what he’d want to know. That was why he’d demanded honesty.

‘Tell me about your job.’

‘Sorry?’ She turned her head but the curve of his shoulder and encircling arm stopped her seeing his face.

‘I want to know what work you do. It’s no use pretending you’re like your sister, living off Daddy’s money and drifting from one amusement to another.’

‘I never implied I did!’

‘I asked upfront how important your father’s money was to you—whether it supported you—and you didn’t correct me.’

Ella remembered that conversation the night they’d met. She’d been out of her depth, fighting not to show it. She’d been furious and combative. Later she’d revealed as little as possible about her life. It was her only defence against the feeling Donato was taking over her world.

‘I’m a nurse.’

‘Ah.’ His slow exhalation of breath stirred her hair. ‘Now, why doesn’t that surprise me?’

Here it comes. She’d heard it all from her father. Everything from the dowdy uniform to the unglamorous nature of the job and the low pay.

‘I have no idea. But I’m sure you’re going to tell me.’ Ella tried to pull away, but Donato’s seemingly lazy hold kept her hard against him.

‘Now, Ella, there’s no need to get annoyed.’ His lips brushed her hair. ‘I hadn’t guessed but it makes sense.’

‘Do tell.’ She gritted her teeth. In her family circle, nurses didn’t exist. Careers were high profile or highly paid, preferably both. Emptying bedpans or cleaning wounds was just too nose-wrinklingly real.

‘You’re so assured. Nothing fazes you.’ He stroked a finger along one bare arm, drawing her skin into feathery lines of goose bumps. ‘You get angry and you’re deeply passionate, but I can’t imagine you panicking.’

‘Assured?’ Ella stared at the bright birds in the tree as if she’d never seen them before. She was competent and confident in her work but she didn’t feel assured with Donato. He kept her off balance.

A chuckle rose in his deep chest and vibrated through her. ‘Absolutely. You put me in my place from the first. But you weren’t patronising in that socially superior way. You weren’t a snob. You just said it like it was.’

‘I’m practical.’ Her father had used that word like an insult.

‘Just like every nurse I’ve met.’

‘You’ve met a few?’ She thought of that old scar on his cheek and the others on his ribs.

‘Enough. You’ve got that same air of straight talking, but with all the aplomb of a duchess.’ It didn’t sound like criticism. It sounded like a compliment. Ella felt a little fizz of pleasure.

‘Have you ever met a duchess?’

‘I have, as it happens. She was more pleasant and down-to-earth than some of the snobby society types I’ve met.’

‘I can imagine.’ Her father was one such snob. He’d forgive you anything so long as you were rich or socially superior.

‘So, what sort of nursing?’ Donato sounded genuinely interested.

‘Community care. I visit people in their homes, often the elderly or patients just released from hospital.’

‘In their homes? Do you work in pairs?’

‘I’m part of a team but I do my home visits solo.’

Donato’s arms tightened. ‘That’s dangerous. You don’t know what you could walk into.’

‘We’re fully trained. We have safety protocols in place. Anyway, most of my clients are frail.’

‘It’s not just your clients. Anyone could be there.’

‘I can look after myself, Donato.’ She turned in his arms and pressed a finger to his mouth before he could contradict her. ‘But I appreciate your concern.’

In all her years of nursing none of her family or friends had expressed concern for her safety. That must explain the strange melting sensation in her chest as she met his stare. She’d never had a protector. There’d been no one since her mother or Aunt Bea who worried about her. Fuzz and Rob saw her as capable and efficient, able to look after herself. And their father...he’d never cared enough to worry.

Crazy that the man logic told her not to trust was the one man who worried about her.

Crazier still that she liked it.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

‘WELL, YOU COULD have knocked me down with a feather. Really!’ Samantha Raybourne’s laugh tinkled melodiously, turning heads in the packed theatre lounge. ‘I’d never thought of you marrying, Ella. Much less snaffling the most eligible man in the country.’

Ella’s smile froze. Why had she told Donato she wanted to see this play? She should have known opening night would attract people like the dreadful Samantha, who’d once made her life hell. She hated that she’d put herself in this position, an unwilling partner in a public charade. But the constraints had been too great, despite her misgivings.

‘What Sam means is congratulations.’ Samantha’s partner spoke. As compère of a reality television show he was adept at reading tension and knew when to intervene. ‘We hope you’ll both be very happy.’

Before Ella could respond Donato slipped his arm around her waist. His grip reminded her, as if she could forget, of the promise he’d extracted. He’d keep her father from badgering her daily about arrangements for the society wedding he planned and in return Ella would play along in public. Even though it meant maintaining the fiction that their relationship was permanent.

A wave of stifling warmth enfolded her. She and Donato wouldn’t really marry and it drove her crazy trying to work out why he let her father peddle such a fantasy. What had he to gain? Surely this wasn’t the behaviour of an honest man. Yet everything she’d learned of Donato testified that he was straight down the line, often brutally so. His refusal to explain, and to stop the charade, was a dark blot on a relationship that was otherwise almost too enticing.

‘Thanks for the good wishes.’ Donato’s deep rumble sliced through the chatter around them.

Ella was tempted to blurt out the truth, that the engagement was a lie. But Donato had warned that without the ‘engagement’ he’d stop all involvement with her father. That wasn’t an option, not while her siblings needed Reg Sanderson to repay the money he’d taken.

She’d grown tired of trying to force the issue. Whatever strange machinations went on between him and her father, ultimately neither could make her marry Donato. In the meantime she could only find relief in the fact that her real friends had no notion of the fake engagement. Only those in her father’s set. Yet guilt and frustration gnawed at her.

‘I had no idea the pair of you even knew each other,’ Samantha purred, leaning forward to reveal even more pumped-up cleavage.

Anger pierced Ella. If she really were Donato’s fiancée she’d take exception to the way the other woman pawed at him, chattering on about a party they’d both attended in Melbourne and giving him that intimate smile.

But Ella was just his temporary lover.

She hadn’t let him encroach too far into her world. As for the time they spent on mutual interests, like antiques and art or activities new to her, like sailing and climbing, that didn’t feel like encroachment. Those were pure pleasure.

In fact, she realised with a hitch to her breathing, all her time with Donato was pleasurable. Their sexual connection had grown into something more complex.

Ella blinked when Samantha leaned in and said with a saccharine smile, ‘I get so bored when the men talk business, don’t you? Media trends and market growth.’ Beside them their companions were deep in discussion.

‘No, I don’t. I find it interesting.’ When Donato spoke of his wide span of investments, she was fascinated.

‘But then you’ve always been so serious, Ella. Serious and sturdy.’ Samantha’s violet eyes, their colour as artificial as her smile, swept Ella dismissively. ‘That reminds me. Rumour has it your father’s engaged Aurelio to design your wedding dress. Is it true?’

Ella shrugged, aiming for nonchalance despite her dismay. Surely her father hadn’t gone as far as organising a dress and hiring the country’s most exclusive designer! This was a nightmare. The sooner it ended the better.

Except when it ends you and Donato will go your separate ways.

Ella’s stomach pinched. The thought of Donato moving on to another lover brought bile to her mouth.

She wanted what they had to last. She enjoyed being with him. No one else had ever made her feel like this.

The revelation knocked her for six, making her sway.

Instantly Donato’s arm tightened around her. He looked down, flashing her a reassuring smile before turning back to his conversation, and her stupid heart kicked up pace.

She wanted to be with him.

‘I’m amazed you’ve got Aurelio to agree to design your gown.’ Samantha had taken her silence for assent. ‘His work is exquisite but he prefers to work with petite clients to show off his amazing designs.’ Again that sharp gaze, dismissing Ella’s body as unfashionably rounded.

‘Rake-thin women, you mean?’ Ella didn’t bother pretending to misunderstand. ‘I wouldn’t know. I’m not really familiar with his designs.’ She knew the name, of course, but that was all.

‘You’re not familiar...?’ The other woman delicately fanned herself. ‘But why would you when you’re not the type he normally dresses.’ Again that horrified survey of Ella’s height and hips.

Ella told herself to be grateful for the woman’s cattiness. It distracted her from dismay over the revelation of her feelings for Donato.

Yet Samantha’s words opened old wounds. She’d always made Ella feel like a galumphing elephant, reinforcing all her father’s negativity. She was too big, too serious and dull to be pretty or exciting.

‘But then, Donato’s a force to be reckoned with, isn’t he? What are artistic scruples compared with the chance to dress his bride, no matter what her size?’

* * *

Donato felt the shift of supple muscle under his arm as Ella straightened. More than straightened. A ruler could lie exactly along her taut spine as she gazed down at the woman before her.

His skin tightened in a familiar flurry of anticipation as he felt energy radiate off Ella. From the first he’d enjoyed sparring with her.

Only this time her focus wasn’t on him.

He watched Samantha What’s-her-name wave a languid hand as she spoke in that awful arch tone about dresses and Ella’s size.

Understanding hit and with it came fury. Red-hot fingers of rage dug into his chest, squeezing his lungs. His hand clamped so hard at Ella’s waist she swung round, looking up questioningly.

Was it imagination or did her eyes look bruised? The idea disturbed him. Then as he watched something in her expression changed and her lips tilted up in a smile.

Only he saw that it didn’t reach her eyes.

‘I don’t care what some dressmaker thinks of my body,’ Ella said, her gaze holding his so that his pulse grew heavy. ‘But Donato likes it.’ She leaned towards him, flagrantly ignoring the other woman. ‘Don’t you, Nato?’

For a split second shock grabbed him, because she’d somehow chanced on the diminutive that only his mother had called him. Then a moment later came the stunned realisation that he liked the pet name on Ella’s lips. He wanted to hear it again.

She blinked and he realised she was waiting for his response. Beyond her the hungry-looking woman with the blinding teeth and the bony collarbone watched avidly.

‘You need to ask, corazón?’ He let his hand slip down from the sweet incurve of Ella’s waist to linger, circling at her hip. ‘How could I look at another woman when I have you? You’re the sexiest woman I know.’

‘Even with my curves?’ Her tinkle of laughter was a fair imitation of the woman standing before them, but Donato knew Ella well enough to hear the tightness in her voice. She did a good job of hiding it but, he realised, the other woman’s words had struck home. He frowned, remembering so many times when Ella had tried to hide her body, as if uncomfortable with him seeing her naked.

‘Your body,’ he said deliberately, ‘is a work of art.’ He yanked her against him and her escaping breath puffed warm across his chin. ‘Any designer would adore dressing you. You look like a woman, not a scrawny sack of bones.’

Dimly he was aware of a shocked hiss from the woman beside them, but his attention was on Ella’s widening eyes.

Bending his head, he nipped the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder. She went limp, her head tipping back. Donato tasted summer fruit as he licked the spot then nuzzled his way up to her ear.

Ella gasped and clutched his shoulders and he scooped her closer, one hand at her hip, the other on the warm, smooth skin between her shoulder blades. Another kiss and she arched in silent invitation.

He needed to pull back. He’d made his point. They were in a public place.

But he didn’t give a damn about creating a scene. Not with Ella in his arms. Not when he wanted to erase the hint of pain he’d read in her eyes. And forget the slash of guilt that he, with his insistence on this farce of an engagement, had made her a target for that witch’s claws. But he couldn’t renege now. Not so close to bringing Sanderson to ruin.

Did guilt heighten his desire? Donato wanted to lose himself in Ella. She was a drug in his blood, a pleasure he’d grown addicted to.

Carajo, he was even hearing bells now. Kissing Ella, holding her in his arms, made him forget where he was.

Her hands on his shoulders shifted, pushed, and she pulled her head back. Dazed silver eyes met his, their pupils huge and unfocused.

Donato leaned in to take her mouth again.

‘No.’ Her whisper came from lips now bare of make-up but deliciously dark and plump from their kisses. ‘Interval’s over.’

Donato looked around the rapidly emptying space. What had begun as a deliberate display had become something else. The burn of rage and guilt in his belly and the indefinable emotions that stirred when Ella had turned to him, looking proud yet so vulnerable, had torn away something within him. He’d wanted to erase every vestige of hurt from her face, but in the process he’d lost himself.

Nato, she’d called him. And it had felt right. So right he hadn’t wanted to draw back.

He’d wanted to help her but he’d also needed to tap into that sense of well-being she always gave him. It was a feeling he’d come to crave.

And he’d wanted to possess her. Still he clutched her, one hand anchored now in her honey-brown hair, making a delectable mess of her upswept style.

She straightened, her hands going self-consciously to her hair as her gaze slid to the last stragglers.

‘Leave it,’ Donato growled, his voice rough. ‘I prefer it that way.’

‘And that’s all that matters, is it?’ She tossed her head, pouting, and he smiled.

‘No, but it’s true. And surely I deserve some reward.’

Her eyes narrowed. ‘Because you lied about my body to save my pride.’

‘You really have no idea, do you, cariño?’ She was a remarkable mix of savvy and innocent. ‘I spoke nothing but the truth.’

Her beautiful mouth sagged and he smiled wryly.

‘I deserve a reward because, despite my inclinations, I’m going to take you in to see the second half of the play. I’m not going to ravish you until we get home or at least to the car.’ He drew in a breath that wasn’t as steady as he’d like. ‘You’re going to show that witch and her ilk you don’t give a damn for her empty insults because you’re far superior to her in every way. Besides, you’ve got the most powerful, wealthy, scary man in Sydney wrapped around your little finger.’

‘Donato?’ She blinked and her mouth wobbled. ‘Don’t be kind to me. You don’t need to pretend.’

The look on her face broke something Donato couldn’t even name. He found himself hauling her in, kissing her, hard and thoroughly, on that ripe mouth till he felt her turn pliant. Then he made himself pull back, telling himself restraint was good for the soul.

‘Our situation isn’t simple, Ella.’ Not for the first time he wished they’d met under different circumstances. ‘But this is real. You’re the woman I want.’ He dragged in another breath and straightened his jacket, pretending the stark truth of those words didn’t make his heart drum faster. ‘Now come in before I change my mind and take you to the nearest bed.’

For a moment she said nothing, just stared, her head tilted to one side as the half-time bells fell silent.

Finally she slipped her arm through his. Donato was surprised at the rush of unfamiliar feeling that simple gesture evoked.

‘You’re wrong, you know,’ she murmured as they entered the theatre side by side. ‘You might be powerful but you’re not really scary. Not when you can be so nice.’

Donato almost stumbled. Nice! If only she knew.

* * *

‘You’re sure you’re okay, Ella? I know Dad when he wants something. I’ve never seen him so worked up as that last day I was in Sydney.’

Over the long-distance connection Ella heard the shudder in her sister’s voice. Despite Fuzz’s privileged position as their father’s favourite, she’d suffered too, living with Reg Sanderson. They all had. But it was something the three siblings had learned to keep to themselves. Put on a public face and hide what you feel.

Ella looked across Donato’s beautiful garden to the dark waters of the Pacific.

‘He’s not bothering me now.’ Donato had seen to that and, despite her concerns about this sham engagement, it was wonderful not to have to deal with her father.

‘You need to be careful. Dad’s desperate. He couldn’t be persuaded, and you know I can usually bring him around eventually.’

Ella had always envied Fuzz that ability. Ella had never been able to satisfy or soothe him.

‘He was so set on marriage! I couldn’t marry some stranger now I have Matthew.’

‘You’re really in love, then?’ Even now, the idea of her sister committed to one man took some getting used to.

Fuzz laughed. Not her usual light laugh. This was husky and somehow more real. ‘I am. Matthew’s wonderful, so capable and practical. When there’s a problem he doesn’t shout, he just fixes it. He’s kind and tender and...caring. And he thinks I’ve got talent, Ella. Real talent!’

‘Of course you have. We all know that. You’re a natural with colour and design.’

There was silence on the line. It lasted so long Ella wondered if the connection had dropped out. ‘I should have stuck to that design course years ago, shouldn’t I? Instead of taking off to the Caribbean for a couple of months.’

Ella shifted the phone, frowning. She’d never heard her sister regretful. She knew Fuzz had changed but hadn’t expected this.

‘There’s nothing stopping you doing one now.’

‘Ever the pragmatist, sis. I knew I could rely on you for a sensible response.’

Ella felt a pinprick of hurt. That was her. Always the pragmatic, mundane one who worried about consequences and responsibilities. Not the pretty, appealing one. Except when she was with Donato. He almost convinced her—

‘I don’t deserve you, sis. You’re in this mess because I did a runner rather than face this Salazar guy.’ Fuzz sighed. ‘I wish I was as strong and sure as you. I always wanted to be...purposeful but I’m as weak as water. Even when we were kids you were the one with integrity and grit.’

‘Fuzz?’ Was this her nothing-can-faze-me sister?

‘Don’t sound surprised. You know it’s true.’

Ella sank into a poolside chair, her legs unsteady. ‘You’re confusing mundane with strong. I just never lived up to expectations so I had to find my own way.’

‘Don’t! You’ve listened to Dad too much. He hated that you stood up to him. Why do you think he always found fault? Because you challenged him. I wish I’d learned to do that sooner. Getting away from him was the best thing I ever did.’

Ella brushed back the hair that had escaped her high ponytail. Typically her attempt at casual chic was a disaster, with strands of hair dangling around her face.

‘I’m glad you did, Fuzz. You deserve this chance. Rob too.’

‘You think?’ Her sister paused. ‘I don’t deserve to have you fighting my battles. But I won’t give up Matthew for some ex-con Dad wants to impress.’

‘He’s more than an ex-con! Or one of Dad’s usual business sharks.’

Silence followed Ella’s words and she felt her heart thud against her ribs. Donato stood head and shoulders above her father and his sort. Despite the way he wielded his immense power, despite the threat he still represented to her family, he continually surprised her with his compassion and humour.

Then there was the way he made her feel—attractive, as if he saw something no one else saw. He challenged her and revelled in her response when she stood up to him.

‘Are you sure you’re okay, sis? If you need me, I’ll come back. You’re brave and beautiful and you always have an answer when things go wrong, but you don’t have to do this alone.’

Ella blinked. Fuzz coming to her aid? Calling her beautiful? She swallowed hard. ‘There’s no need to butter me up. I know I’m not—’

‘You are! The question is—do you want me there?’

‘No. Stay there. Has the money come through? Dad promised he’d repay Rob’s money.’

‘Some of it. Enough to keep us at the renovations. But there’s still a hefty chunk missing. Without that the resort’s doomed.’

As Ella had suspected—their father was in no hurry to return all the funds he’d misappropriated. They could call in the police but that wouldn’t help if Reg Sanderson was declared bankrupt.

‘I’ll find a way to make him pay it back.’ Until she did she was caught, rejecting an arranged marriage but at the same time unable to walk away completely for fear Rob would never see his money.

And in the meantime she was enjoying the most intense, amazing relationship of her life with the man she refused to marry!

She’d never marry to grease the wheels of her father’s schemes. Even if Donato was the only man she’d ever felt this way about. She was on the brink of giving in and moving in with him. Because she wanted him, not because of her father’s schemes.

‘Can you make Dad pay it back?’ Hope and fear warred in her sister’s voice.

‘Don’t worry, Fuzz. I’m his ace in the hole. He needs me for this deal. I’ll sort it so Rob gets his money and you get to stay with Matthew.’

Footsteps sounded on the flagstones. It was Donato, watching her. How much had he heard?

‘I have to go.’ Ella turned away, lowering her voice. ‘Thanks for calling, and for the offer to come back... That means a lot.’ Her throat tightened. The Sanderson siblings had each found their own way of coping with their father. Fuzz’s approach had been self-absorption.

‘Okay. I should get back to this painting. I promised Matthew I’d finish this room today. But remember, if you need me, I can be there in a day.’

Fuzz, painting? When would wonders cease?

Ella pressed her lips together as she ended the call. She felt wobbly. Because of her sister’s concern. Because of her offer to come back. Because Ella had felt a bond with Fuzz she hadn’t experienced in years. With Rob, yes, but not with her sister. Ella had always lived in the shade cast by Fuzz’s bright personality. It had never occurred to her that Fuzz wanted to be like her.

CHAPTER TWELVE

‘EVERYTHING ALL RIGHT?’

Donato stopped beside her and Ella had a disturbingly appealing view of powerful hands and muscled thighs in faded denim. She stood. Her sister’s revelations had thrown her and she needed time to digest them, consider how to get the rest of Rob’s money from their father.

But thinking clearly with Donato near was a big ask. Look what had happened at the theatre last night. He’d kissed her and she’d begun to believe...