The Italian's Bargain for His Bride, page 2
‘Get off me!’ Paloma braced her hands on the man’s chest and attempted to push him away, but it was like trying to shift a granite boulder. She had trained in martial arts for years, but the reality of trying to defend herself against someone who was so much bigger and stronger than her was impossible. The knowledge that she was at her captor’s mercy fired her temper. ‘Pick on someone your own size, you jerk. Do you get a thrill from overpowering a defenceless woman and children?’
She remembered the terror on the faces of her pupils when the gunmen had burst into the classroom. ‘What have you done with the girls from the school? Let them go,’ she pleaded. ‘Their families can’t afford to pay a ransom. I am more valuable to you than a group of schoolgirls. My grandfather is a rich man, and he will pay for my release, but only if you allow the girls to go free.’
She glared into the man’s eyes that were the only part of his face not covered by his balaclava. Eyes the golden-brown colour of sherry glittered back at her. Paloma became aware of his hard thighs pressed against her, and beneath her hands, she felt the definition of an impressive six-pack through his shirt.
Unbelievably she felt a flutter of awareness in the pit of her stomach. Not just awareness, but familiarity. Her subconscious mind recognised the impressive musculature of the male body stretched out on top of her, and her senses stirred when she breathed in the evocative scent of his aftershave. Only one man had ever elicited such an intense response in her.
She must be hallucinating, Paloma decided. Her captor couldn’t be... She grabbed the edge of the man’s balaclava and tore it off his face. Her eyes widened in shock. ‘Daniele!’
‘Ciao, cara,’ he drawled in his sexy, accented voice that made her toes curl inside her trainers.
When Daniele had carried her out of the hut, he must have spoken in Italian to the driver of the truck. Paloma spoke Italian fluently, but English was her first language, and she’d been unable to think straight in the tense situation.
She gasped when she heard a metallic thud on the side of the truck.
‘Vai più veloce!’ Daniele told the driver urgently.
Paloma knew he had told him to go faster. Fear cramped in her stomach when she realised that the thudding sound was bullets striking the metal truck. They were being chased by the other gunmen who were shooting at them.
She stared up at Daniele and it occurred to her that he was lying on top of her to protect her with his body if a bullet came through the window. The gleam in his eyes caused her heart to miss a beat.
‘I don’t understand,’ she said shakily. ‘You’re a computer geek.’ She had only ever seen him at Morante Group’s offices or at her grandfather’s opulent palazzo. Daniele had always worn a designer suit and been impeccably groomed. Now he reminded her of a pirate with his black hair falling across his brow and thick stubble covering his jaw.
‘I did not realise that you had such an unflattering opinion of me,’ he said drily.
His face was so close to hers that Paloma felt his breath graze her cheek. She could not look away from his sensual mouth as memories flooded her mind of being expertly kissed by him. The weight of his body held her pinned to the floor of the truck, and a purely feminine instinct made her splay her thighs a little so that her pelvis was flush with his.
His jaw clenched, and he flexed his arms and abruptly pushed himself off her. ‘Stay where you are,’ he ordered before he rolled across to the side of the truck, aimed his rifle out of the window and fired several rounds. ‘Evvai!’ There was satisfaction in his voice. ‘It’s safe for you to sit up,’ he told Paloma. ‘I shot out a front tyre on the other truck. The men who kidnapped you can’t harm you now.’
‘Who are you?’ she muttered.
‘I trained as a soldier in the Italian Army and belonged to the Ninth Paratroopers Assault Regiment. The regiment is a special forces unit, like the SAS in the British Army.’ There was quiet pride in Daniele’s voice. ‘An injury I sustained while I was on active service put an end to my military career, but I kept in touch with some of the other paras. When your flatmate told me you were in trouble, I contacted the school in Mali and learned that you had been kidnapped.’ His mouth tightened. ‘The country is notoriously dangerous, and kidnapping, especially of foreigners, is a serious threat. It was irresponsible of you to come here.’
‘I was aware of the risks,’ Paloma muttered. ‘But there is a shortage of schools and teachers in Mali, and without access to education, children’s life chances are reduced. Teaching was a practical way that I could help.’ She pushed her hair out of her eyes, certain she must look a bedraggled, sweaty mess. Reaction to her ordeal was setting in, and the censure in Daniele’s voice added guilt to the mix of her emotions. ‘I didn’t expect you would put your life in danger to rescue me. Thank you.’ She flushed as she acknowledged how inadequate her words were.
‘I promised your grandfather I would protect you,’ Daniele said curtly. Instantly Paloma felt that she was a liability. She had sometimes felt stifled by Nonno’s overprotectiveness. ‘I was assisted by some of my old army friends,’ Daniele told her. ‘We had a tip-off that led us to where the gunmen were holding you and I planned a rescue mission. In a few minutes we will arrive at an airstrip where a plane is waiting to fly us out of here.’
‘Does my grandfather know what happened to me?’
‘No.’ Daniele turned his head away and stared out of the window. Paloma had the feeling that he was avoiding her gaze.
‘Thank you for keeping my kidnap ordeal from Nonno,’ she said huskily. ‘I had made up a story that I was spending time at a wellness retreat because I didn’t want him to worry about me.’
‘There is something I must tell you.’ Daniele swore when the truck jolted on the uneven ground and Paloma fell against him. She put her hands on the solid wall of his chest to steady herself and was aware that his gaze had dropped to where her sweat-damp T-shirt was clinging to her breasts. To her horror, she felt her nipples harden, and she quickly shifted away from him. ‘I’ll talk to you when we are on the plane,’ Daniele said roughly.
A sense of dread dropped into the pit of Paloma’s stomach at his serious tone. They had reached an airfield and the truck pulled up next to a plane. She put her hand on Daniele’s arm. ‘Talk to me now.’
He exhaled slowly. ‘There is no easy way to break the news to you, cara. Marcello is dead.’
Her heart stopped. ‘It’s not true. It can’t be.’ She searched Daniele’s face for reassurance that she had misunderstood him but found none. ‘Nonno is not a young man, but he is remarkably fit and healthy for his age.’ It had to be a mistake. Paloma could not accept what Daniele had told her.
‘I’m sorry. I realise what a shock this is for you. Your grandfather had an aortic aneurysm. In layman’s terms, it means that the main blood vessel from his heart ruptured. We were playing golf when he collapsed with chest pains. I immediately called the emergency services and the medics fought to save him, but he died before he reached the hospital.’
‘Were you with him when...when he died?’ Paloma choked. Her throat was clogged with tears as the terrible truth sank in that she would never see her beloved Nonno again.
‘I was,’ Daniele assured her.
‘I’m glad he wasn’t alone.’ Guilt felt like a knife through her heart. She should have been with her grandfather. He had tried to persuade her to move to Italy and become his assistant at Morante Group to prepare for the role that would one day be hers. She’d assumed that she had plenty of time to spread her wings first. Paloma swallowed a sob. ‘When did Nonno collapse?’
‘Two days ago. I’ve managed to keep a news blackout and only a handful of people know about Marcello’s death.’ Daniele hesitated. ‘It is possible that someone on Morante Group’s board of trustees arranged for you to disappear.’
Paloma stared at him. ‘Why would any of them do that?’
‘You are the sole heiress to your grandfather’s fortune,’ Daniele reminded her. ‘The money comes to you straight away, and when you are twenty-five, you will take control of the company, as Marcello decreed in his will. But if something should happen to you, half of your inheritance is to be paid to the Morante Foundation charity and the other half will be divided equally between the eight board members, including your great-uncle Franco, but not myself. Your grandfather gave me a lifelong position on the board, but I am not a beneficiary of his will. In the event of your death, the other trustees stand to become multimillionaires, and the board will decide who to appoint as the new head of Morante Group.’
‘I’m young and healthy, and nothing is likely to happen to me.’ Paloma bit her lip when Daniele rolled his eyes. ‘You said yourself that kidnapping of foreigners is common in Mali.’
‘I suppose it could be a coincidence that you were seized soon after Marcello died, but in my experience, coincidences are rare,’ Daniele said cynically. ‘If your flatmate hadn’t alerted me, I would not have known where to look for you. But someone knew the Morante heiress was in Mali, and I believe that person hoped to prevent you from claiming your inheritance.’
CHAPTER TWO
DANIELE RAPPED ON the bedroom door but got no response. He tried the handle but was not surprised to find that the door was locked. The previous evening, he had brought Paloma to a hotel owned by his close friend whom he trusted implicitly. In the penthouse suite, Paloma had locked herself in one of the bedrooms and Daniele had heard her crying for hours.
He had paced up and down the corridor outside her room, wondering if he should offer to try to comfort her as he had done after her father had been killed in a speedboat accident eight years ago. Paloma had been sixteen and still a child in Daniele’s eyes. A rapport had grown between them when he’d shared his experience of losing his own father when he had been a teenager.
But Paloma was no longer a schoolgirl, a fact that Daniele had been all too aware of when he’d flung himself on top of her in the back of the truck to protect her from the bullets that the kidnappers had been firing indiscriminately. His jaw clenched as he remembered how his body had reacted to the feel of Paloma’s soft curves beneath him. He had been shocked, frankly, by the kick of awareness in the pit of his stomach.
At thirty-six, he was way past the age of behaving like a hormonal adolescent. He dated selectively and enjoyed women’s company both in and out of the bedroom, although he had never felt an inclination to marry. It said a lot about him, Daniele acknowledged. He had guarded his emotions since he’d been five years old and watched his mother drive away from the family home. She had promised to visit him often, but she’d never come back. Eventually Daniele had given up staring out of the window in the hope of seeing her car turn the corner of the road. It had been an early lesson that promises were easily made and just as easily broken. A few years later, he had been invited to visit his mother, who had remarried, and he’d met his little half-brother. But since then, Daniele had not had any further contact with that side of his family for twenty-seven years.
He pulled his thoughts from the past and knocked on the door again. ‘Paloma, you need to eat. I’ve arranged for dinner to be served here in the suite.’
‘I’m not hungry.’ Her voice was muffled. ‘I want to be alone.’
Daniele frowned. He had given Paloma’s grandfather his word that he would take care of her, which meant he must help her to secure her place as the head of Morante Group.
‘You are not the only one who is devastated by Marcello’s death,’ he said gruffly. ‘I share your grief. But you are your grandfather’s successor, and he would want you to show strong leadership of the company. I ordered some clothes for you from the hotel’s boutique. I’ll leave them outside the door.’ His words were met with silence. ‘There are things we need to discuss, and I do not intend to talk to you through the door. Don’t make me break it down.’
‘You wouldn’t dare.’
‘I never make idle threats, cara.’ Daniele walked back to the sitting room, cursing as his leg throbbed. The old injury was a permanent reminder of the events that had led to him meeting Marcello Morante. Ten years ago, he had paid a heavy price for saving Marcello’s life, but Marcello had in turn saved Daniele from the dark place he’d fallen into and given him the chance of a glittering future.
The grief that Daniele had suppressed since his old friend’s death felt like a knife blade through his heart. He took a bottle of beer from the fridge and opened it before he stepped out onto the balcony. Now that Paloma was safe, he could finally focus on the man who had meant so much to him.
With his last breaths, Marcello had told Daniele that he’d thought of him as a grandson. It was ironic, Daniele brooded, that his real grandfather, who had disowned him when he was a child, had died only days before Marcello. Daniele had not mourned his mother’s father, and in fact, he’d only met the Conte Alfonso Farnesi on one humiliating occasion when he had been made to feel that he was muck on the sole of his grandfather’s shoe.
Daniele had been nine when his mother had unexpectedly invited him to the Farnesi estate near Florence. She had not been in contact since she’d left four years earlier and she’d divorced Daniele’s father and remarried. There had been photos in the newspapers of her and her new husband, who was from an aristocratic banking family. Some while later, it had been reported that she had given birth to a son by her second husband.
Daniele had been desperate to see his mother and excited to meet his half-brother, Stefano. But the visit had gone badly. He’d felt awkward when he’d walked into his grandfather Alfonso’s imposing villa where his mother and her new family lived. On the walls were paintings of grand-looking men and women. The House of Farnesi had been an important family since the time of the Renaissance. But it had been made clear to Daniele that his portrait would never hang alongside his glorious ancestors. His father was a common soldier, and his grandfather was determined that the Farnesi blue-blooded lineage would not be tainted by a low-born grandson.
Under ancient nobility laws, titles were passed down through the male line. But if, as in Conte Farnesi’s case, he had a daughter, but no son, the title could skip a generation and be passed to the first male grandchild. By rights, that should have been Daniele. But during that infamous visit, Alfonso had announced that he’d disinherited Daniele and made Stefano his heir.
Daniele forced his mind away from bitter memories of his childhood and took a long swig of beer. The title of Conte was only a courtesy, as official recognition of Italian nobility had ended decades ago. He’d assumed that he had come to terms with being overlooked by his grandfather and rejected by his mother. But before he’d left Italy for Africa, the newspapers had been full of reports of the death of the seventeenth Conte Farnesi. Much gushing prose had been printed about Alfonso’s successor, his grandson Stefano, who would take the surname Farnesi.
Daniele had studied the newspaper photo of his mother looking proudly at his half-brother and he’d been surprised at how much it still rankled that he was not good enough for her. He had made a fortune by using his brain and working hard, and his online affiliate marketing company, Premio, was ranked in the top ten most successful businesses in Italy. But despite his achievements, his mother would never be proud of him because his father had not belonged to the nobility.
Daniele heard footsteps behind him. He turned around and inhaled sharply as he watched Paloma walk towards him. During her kidnap ordeal, she had worn the same T-shirt and shorts for days, but despite looking tired and dishevelled, she had still been beautiful when Daniele had rescued her from her captors.
This evening she was utterly breathtaking. The clothes that had been delivered from the hotel’s boutique were typical holiday wear. Paloma was dressed in a long, kaftan-style garment made of fine white cotton, with delicate gold embroidery along the V-shaped neckline. A wide belt of the same material emphasised her tiny waist. As she walked, the side splits on either side of the skirt parted to reveal her slim legs.
Daniele heard the thunder of his pulse in his ears and was conscious that his blood had surged down to his groin. The kick of awareness was even stronger than he’d felt in the truck when he had stretched his body out on top of Paloma to shield her from the gunmen’s bullets. He could not tear his gaze from her long, chestnut-brown hair that fell midway to her waist and gleamed like raw silk in the light from the lamps on the balcony. The lemony scent of shampoo, mingled with the subtle, floral fragrance of her perfume, assailed his senses and his pulse quickened.
He was struck by the realisation that the pretty teenager he had first met nearly a decade ago, and even the naive but achingly lovely twenty-one-year-old intern Paloma had been three years ago, had not prepared him for the exquisite and sensuous woman who halted in front of him.
Her dark eyelashes swept upwards and eyes the intense blue of lapis lazuli glared at him. ‘You always were as cold as a block of ice, Daniele.’
He was fascinated and relieved to see the pink flush that highlighted Paloma’s delicate cheekbones. Her face had been ashen when he’d half carried her into the hotel, but now the evidence of her temper was a good sign. She would need to be strong. Marcello was a hard act to follow, and Daniele did not know if Paloma was up to the task, but it was his duty to give her the chance to find out.
‘I have lost my grandfather, who I loved more than anyone in the world.’ Her voice shook. ‘Would it hurt you to show a little compassion?’
Daniele’s eyes dropped to her lips, which trembled slightly before she pressed them together. He sensed she was struggling to control her emotions, and he was furious with himself for imagining covering her lush mouth with his. Paloma was out of bounds, and the quicker his libido accepted that fact, the better. He wondered what she would say if he admitted that, far from being a block of ice, he was on fire. Fortunately, he was a master at concealing his thoughts behind an enigmatic expression.
