‘I would not have wished what you went through on anyone, Cara.’ His face was taut with anger—and something else. Something that made Cara flush. She knew instinctively that, no matter what had gone on between them, Vicenzo wasn’t so heartless as to embrace what had happened. And the fact that she knew that made her feel very shaky. After all, the man had shown her nothing but contempt since he’d revealed his true identity, and Cara didn’t like to admit that perhaps it was something she’d seen in him before the mask had dropped. She realised with a jolt that he must be going through his own private turmoil, no matter how ambivalent he’d been about the baby.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that… I just mean that now you’ll be wanting me to go home.’
‘Aren’t you forgetting your debt?’
Cara paled dramatically, and Vicenzo cursed himself, not knowing what it was about this woman that made him blurt out the first thing that came into his head. The first thing that came into his head that would keep her here, under his control. He swore in Italian and raked a hand through his hair again.
‘Look, forget I said that. It’s been a fraught couple of days. You’re not in any shape to go anywhere, Cara. You’re weak and still in shock. My father is concerned about you.’
Hurt had sliced through Cara, along with shock that Vicenzo still had revenge at the forefront of his mind. Why else would he have mentioned the debt she still owed him?
She forced herself to sound stronger than she felt. If she could just get away… ‘Yes but I don’t mind leaving. Perhaps it’s best. Before your father comes to expect anything more from either of us…’
Vicenzo reacted strongly to her words, her concern for his father striking him deeply. ‘No, Cara. I won’t let you leave like this. You need to rest and recuperate. You must admit to that at least.’ His gaze flicked down over her from her head to her toes, and he swore softly again. ‘You’re dead on your feet and you look as pale as a ghost.’
At that moment, as if her body was in league with Vicenzo, a wave of dizziness came over her and she swayed slightly. In an instant Vicenzo was there, making her sit on the bed. ‘That’s it. No arguments, Cara—
please, just for now. I’m going to get Lucia to come up here with some food and to help you get ready for bed, and then you must sleep.’
Cara tried to protest, but in all honesty she was overcome with everything. She was barely aware of Vicenzo leaving, or Lucia returning with some steaming fragrant pasta and juice and bread. The older woman kindly helped her to change into a T-shirt, supervised her eating some food and all but tucked her into bed.
Cara was asleep when Vicenzo came silently back into the room a little later.
He sat in a chair in the corner for a long time, his chin resting on steepled fingers as he watched her sleeping form in the bed. Cara Brosnan was an enigma. She was either the gold-digging, arch manipulator sister of her equally corrupt brother…or else she was something that Vicenzo had no frame of reference for. He remembered her assertion the night she’d had the miscarriage that the reality of her life had been different. One thing was certain. He wasn’t letting her go anywhere any time soon—not till he’d got to the bottom of who she really was.
Cara was a lot weaker after the miscarriage than she had thought she would be, and had to conclude that it must be a combination of losing her brother, the stress of learning she was pregnant, and the fruitless and wearying job searching that had worn her down. It was all hitting her now, and she found that each day by early evening she was exhausted, invariably taking to her bed at the same time as Silvio.
Almost three weeks seemed to pass in a hazy blur of this routine as she recuperated. Vicenzo was unfailingly polite, yet distant. He never mentioned the debt, or her departure. She came to find great solace in Silvio, and would spend time with him every day—reading, or playing chess, or talking easily about anything and everything.
Doppo, Allegra’s dog, had also proved to be an ally, trailing Cara everywhere with an air of devotion that Cara knew had to be in part because he was missing his mistress. Nevertheless, he was a comfort.
Vicenzo would sometimes appear suddenly, after a couple of days’
absence in Rome or elsewhere, and Cara could never stop the jolt of sensation that ran through her. It was getting harder to ignore as her strength returned.
One evening after Silvio had gone to bed, Cara went out onto the terrace with a cup of tea. She faltered mid-step when she saw Vicenzo sitting at the wrought-iron table drinking coffee. He was glowering into the cup, but looked up when he heard her.
Cara’s heart started unsteadily. ‘I’m sorry…’ She turned to go.
He stood and said, ‘No, wait.’
She stopped against her will and turned again, feeling awkward. ‘Look, really—’
‘Cara, sit down. I won’t bite.’
He sounded weary, and Cara could see as she came closer that he had a sheaf of papers on the table beside him. She sat down cautiously and after a long moment asked tentatively, ‘You were working?’
He gave a short, curt laugh. ‘You could say that.’ His eyes flashed at her for a moment. ‘Sorting out your brother’s handiwork—tracing his takeover bid so that it doesn’t happen again.’
Cara’s insides lurched. ‘You’re still working on it? But I thought…I thought you said it was crude…?’
He grimaced, ‘It was…but it was his very lack of sophistication that allowed him to do so much damage…’
Almost before she realised what she was doing, Cara found herself asking, ‘Is there anything I can do to help? I knew Cormac. I might be able to see things you can’t.’ She added almost defensively, ‘I really do have qualifications.’
Vicenzo looked at her steadily, with something burning deep in eyes which looked tawny in the candlelight flickering on the table in the still night air.
After a long moment, he said consideringly, ‘Why not…I? could do with someone to help with the number-crunching. As it is, I have to go to Rome in a few days, but I’d like to get ahead of things here first.’
Cara didn’t doubt he was testing her on some level, and found herself being shown into Vicenzo’s state-of-the-art study for the first time. It was huge, with computers and fax machines and copiers. Everything anyone could need in a modern office. He took her over to a table on which lay a printout of columns and figures. Immediately Cara felt at home. She knew numbers. She’d escaped into her study of numbers for the past few years in a bid to escape from Cormac.
He gestured to the table and Cara sat down. ‘What you see in front of you is the mess I’m still clearing up. Part of his attack was unleashing numerous viruses into our accountancy program. I’ve been trying to untangle it here first, just to make sure nothing gets missed.’
Cara looked at him and tried to hide her shock. To face the reality of what her devious brother had done was disconcerting, to say the least.
‘While the company is being more securely monitored than ever before, the breach has made me nervous—which is why I’m making sure I know exactly what your brother did before anyone else does.’
Shame rushed through Cara.
He stood back, arms crossed, legs planted wide. Every inch of him the dominant, powerful male. ‘I have to admit that the thought of you, his sister, offering to sort it out has a certain delectable irony.’
Cara hitched her chin up, determined not to let him get to her. ‘Why don’t you just show me what you want me to do?’
CHAPTER TEN
VICENZO looked over to where Cara was sitting cross-legged on the floor, with papers all around her. To his surprise they’d worked companionably until far later the previous evening than he’d expected, and when he’d come to his study this morning it had been to find Cara already there, working on what she’d started last night. It had made something uncomfortable prickle in his belly.
In the past few weeks he’d witnessed how much the miscarriage had taken out of her. Guilt, along with another much more disturbing emotion, had been warring within him. He’d done his best to give her space. But the questions remained… too many questions. Along with the disturbing revelation that the last thing on his mind was sending her away and saying good riddance.
She was dressed in the ubiquitous black, her hair piled messily on her head, with a pencil stuck through the heavy mass to keep it in place. All Vicenzo could see was the exquisite line of her neck as her head bent down. And an enticing side view of firm breasts. Her legs, long and pale.
Every now and then she absently put out a hand and patted Doppo, who lay nearby, gazing at Cara adoringly.
And as Vicenzo watched Cara stroke Doppo’s head he knew he wanted to feel her hand on him, stroking him. All over, and where he throbbed unmercifully. He shifted uncomfortably and saw the way Cara’s back tensed momentarily. Was she as aware of him as he was of her?
Cara heard Vicenzo’s chair move behind her. It was hard enough trying to concentrate on the figures in front of her without hearing him move around. He came into her line of vision and she had to look up. She felt dizzy because he was at such a great height, so she stood too. He leant back against the table and crossed his arms. Cara steeled herself for whatever was coming.