Blackmailed by the Italian Billionaire(53)

“Let me get this straight,” she said as Luc pointed out the single building. “You own this whole island.”

“My grandfather left it to me.”

“And no one else lives there?”

“It’s where I go when I need to be alone.”

They were coming to land, the helicopter blowing up a cloud of red dust beneath them. Luc finally released her hand, and Lia fumbled with the harness, but her fingers didn’t seem to be working. Luc brushed them out of the way.



“Let me.”

Lia sat quite still as Luc unfastened the buckles and released her. He spoke briefly with the pilot, then opened the door and jumped down, holding out a hand for Lia. Threading her fingers through his, she jumped down. Luc took their bags and then waved the pilot away, and they watched as the helicopter rose slowly into the air and headed off toward the mainland.

The air was warm and heavy with the scent of tropical flowers, which seemed to grow rampant all around them, and Lia breathed in deeply.

“Welcome to my island,” Luc said from beside her. “Come on, we’ll put the bags away and you can shower.”

It was early evening, still balmy but without the oppressive heat she’d felt in Rome. Cicadas sang in the nearby trees. Beneath that, the ebb and flow of the sea provided a soothing ambiance, and the last remaining tension oozed from her.

They had landed at the rear of the building, and Luc led her around the side. The house was spectacular: not large, but beautiful, a long white graceful villa. A series of arches formed a covered terrace that ran along the front, and over which crimson and orange bougainvillea ran riot. Smooth green lawns ran down to the cliff’s edge, where they gave way to terra cotta tiles surrounding a cobalt blue infinity pool.



She stared for a long moment before following Luc beneath one of the archways and through French doors into a large airy bedroom.

“This is yours,” Luc said. “I’m next door if you need anything.”

The room was simply but beautifully decorated, the walls white, the floors terra-cotta tiles, cool yet welcoming. The space was dominated by an enormous four-poster bed draped with mosquito netting, and a suitcase lay on the ottoman at the foot of the bed.

Lia frowned. “This isn’t mine.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s not. I’ve never seen it before in my life.”

Opening it, she examined the contents. She picked up a bikini that lay on top, three tiny triangles of silky scarlet material. Definitely not hers; she owned a sensible black one-piece. Placing the bikini on the bed, she picked up a sundress that lay wrapped in tissue paper beneath. It was lavender, with narrow straps, and like the bikini, she had never seen it before. Mind you, she thought, holding it up in front of her, it did look like a perfect fit. She peered at Luc suspiciously.

“Where did these clothes come from?”

“I asked Maggie to get a few things for you. She knew your sizes from shopping with you for the party.”

“But,” Lia said, rummaging through the suitcase, “this is all holiday gear. We only decided to come away this morning. You’re not telling me that Maggie bought all this between then and now. On a Sunday.”



Something wasn’t quite right here, but she really couldn’t think what it was. She glanced at Luc, but he turned away from her before she could see his expression. He stood, staring out of the window, his hands in his trouser pockets, his shoulders rigid with tension.

“Luc?”

He turned around to face her, and she forced herself to continue. “I found out today that my whole life has been a fabrication of lies. Can’t we at least have the truth between us now?”

He looked at her for a long moment. “I leaked the story to the press.”

It wasn’t what she was expecting, and she shook her head in bemusement. “I don’t understand, why would you do that? What could you possibly gain from it?”

“I wanted to get you away from London. I wanted to bring you here alone.”

“But why?”

“Think about it, cara. I’ll be outside.”

She waited until he left the room, shutting the door gently behind him, then she sank onto the bed. She should be angry; he was manipulating her again. But something superseded her anger—Luc had wanted to bring her here. Spend time alone with her. She’d wondered if he still wanted her that way. Oh, he had said so, but he had seemed so distant since the party, she was sure he hadn’t really forgiven her.

Now, he was all but admitting he wanted her. She could sense something unraveling inside her, some cold, hard lump. Jumping up, she peered out the French doors. The sun was low in the sky, glinting on the turquoise water of the pool, and all of a sudden, it finally sank in—she was in Italy, alone with Luc. It seemed impossible, but she knew she was going to make the most of this opportunity. She might not have forever, but she had now. Picking up the lavender sundress, she grabbed her toiletries bag and went for a shower.