The Italian's Future Bride(4)

He had loads of natural pulling power. That was his problem.



'Are you always this obnoxious when you've been caught off your guard?'  she flared up on the back of pure agitation. 'So I hit on you-what's new  there to a man like you? From what I hear, half the women in Europe  have done it at some point in your blessed life-and not all of them  because of your sex appeal!'



He sent her a glinting look. 'Did I hear a hint of scorn in your tone then?'



'Yes!' she flicked out. 'Men like you stroll through life as if you own  it. You do what you want when you want to do it. You pick your women on  looks alone and don't give a care whether they have feelings you could  actually wound!'



Something sharp hit his voice. 'I wounded-you?'



'You mean you don't know?' The sarcasm was out before she could stop it.



They'd stopped at a set of traffic lights and he turned in his seat.  Instantly the sheer size and power of the man flooded over Rachel like a  simmering hot shower. She could feel his eyes skimming her face and her  body as he checked her out while flipping through his huge data bank of  women, trying to pinpoint who she was. Any second now and he was going  to make a connection he could have made hours ago if he'd been more  observant.



Rachel felt the stinging temptation to lie, if only to really confuse him, but-'No,' she said finally.



Someone just like you did that to me, she added inside her head. Then  she flicked him a hard resentful glance,' heaved in a breath and saved  him the bother of further taxing his no doubt phenomenal brain power.                       
       
           



       



'Elise Castle,' she breathed out.



CHAPTER TWO



THEname had its desired effect, Rachel noticed bitterly, as a long thick  silence stretched between them and he didn't say or do a single thing.



She held her breath again while she waited for him to recover and begin  spitting out a barrage of angry questions-but still nothing came.



In the end she took the initiative and broke the silence. 'The name means nothing to you?' she gibed.



Other vehicle headlights swished past the car windows, lighting their  faces momentarily. Illuminated, she saw only the cold steel of his eyes  as they fixed hers like lashing daggers and he kept his silence. In the  darkness her gaze dropped for some reason to the single line  straightness of his mouth.



A mouth that already felt disconcertingly familiar. She could still  taste it. Her tongue even made a passing swipe at her lips in response  to the thought.



Headlights lit up the car's interior again, dragging her attention back  to his eyes. They'd narrowed and were watching her like a hawk waiting  to pin its next victim. Rachel's breathing fell into small jerky fits.  Her heart was pounding. He was frighteningly exciting to look at, all  well cared for male with just the right balance between sensational good  looks and raw masculinity.



Her mouth had to part to aid her quick breathing. He dropped his gaze  and the result was a tingling quiver across her lips that sent the tip  of her tongue nervously chasing it. Sexual awareness was suddenly alive  and cluttering the atmosphere. Rachel felt her breasts grow heavy, their  tips pushing out with a terrible knowing sting. He flicked those eyes  back to hers again and he knew-heknew !



Then the traffic lights decided to change, demanding that he set them  moving. She watched as if mesmerised as his dark head shifted back into  profile, watched his long-fingered hands as he flipped the car into a  slick right turn. More seconds ticked by and her chest felt as if it was  burning beneath the pressure she was placing on it by barely breathing  at all now.



'The name means plenty to me,' he finally answered. 'And you are not Elise.'



No, Rachel knew she wasn't Elise. She was her younger, less pretty, more sensible half-sister.



More sensible-when? She then scoffed at that. Sensible women did not get  themselves into situations like this. Sensible women steered clear of  the complicated love lives of others-and especially of frighteningly  sexy men like him!



Sensiblewomen did not fall in love with handsome Italians with a rich  repertoire of words of love and a killer seduction technique-yet she had  done it.



She had to close her eyes as an image of Alonso suddenly appeared in  front of her. Tall, dark, beautiful Alonso, who had been so warm and  attentive and flatteringly possessive when they had been out together,  and so excitingly intense and passionate when naked with her in bed.  They'd spent six glorious weeks living together in his apartment  overlooking Naples. He'd vowed he loved her. 'I love you-ti' amomia  bella cara … 'he'd murmured to her in his rich, dark, accented voice and  she'd known without a doubt that she loved him.



Rachel shivered.



It was only when the time had come for her to return to England and he'd  said, 'We had a wonderful time, hmm,amore ? It is a shame it now has to  end,' that she'd understood what a stupid, gullible, naïve fool she had  been.



'I said you are not Elise,' this other Italian with the rich, dark accent prompted.



Rachel opened her eyes and let the real world back in. 'No,' she agreed.  'But very few people will be able to tell that from behind … '



A bell of understanding suddenly clanged loud in Raffaelle's head. Next  to come was an action replay of the way this woman had thrown herself on  him, followed by several camera flashes. Like a wild beast sniffing  danger in the atmosphere, he picked up the scent of a deliberately  constructed scandal involving him and the very married Elise.



But it was a scandal he believed he had already diverted. As far as he  was aware, the lovely Elise had seen the error of her ways after his  last spiked conversation with her on the telephone before he'd broken  all contact with her and made his quick exit from London back to Milan.  The grapevine, via Daniella, said she had not been seen on the social  circuit since.



So what wasthis devious creature up to? Why had she gone to so much trouble to make out for the camera that she was Elise?



'Explain,' he commanded.



Not this side of midnight, Rachel thought tensely and clamped her lips  together. Having come this far, she was not about to scupper everything  by getting Mark's story pulled before going to print.                       
       
           



       



She'd already revealed more than she should have done.



'Look … ' she heaved out instead. 'You're not an idiot, Mr Villani. You  must know you're asking for trouble taking me against my will like  this-so just stop the car and let me out now.'



'Not a chance in hell,' he refused.



And the way he turned his head to slide his eyes up her legs had Rachel  tugging jerkily at the short skirt of her dress. She knew that look. It  was as old as the human race. She'd let him see her attraction to him;  now he was looking over the goods on offer.



'If you honestly think-!'



'Changing your mind about the hit,cara ?' he taunted. 'Wondering if you  might have bitten off more than you can chew with me? Well, let me  confirm that you have done.' His voice hardened. 'You made the hit. I  bought it. Now you are going to play it my way.'



'You're crazy,' she whispered.



Maybe he was, Raffaelle conceded. But no woman-no woman-played games with him and got away with it!



'I'm getting out of this car-' Rachel reached for the door handle. The  automatic lock gave a clunk as it fell into place at the same time that  he increased their speed.



True-true unfettered fear began to scream in her head as it finally  began to sink in what a stupid, crazy, dangerous situation she had  managed to get herself into here. What did she know about Raffaelle  Villani, other than the details fed to her by Mark and Elise? How did  she know he wasn't some kind of mega-rich sex maniac prowling Europe  unhindered because his money could buy his victims' silence.



Just as he said, he had bought her …



Her skin began to creep, her fingers closing tightly around her small clutch bag so they felt the reassurance of her cellphone.



How much time did she need to call the police before he reacted?



She dared a quick glance at him, heart hammering, fingers tensely toying  with the clasp on her bag. He didn't look like a lunatic, just a very  angry man-which he had every right to be, she was forced to admit.



'Your partner in crime did not hang around to protect you,' he taunted grimly next.



He had to mean Mark. 'You don't-'



'Unless he is in one of the cars following behind us, that is … '



Cars-? Rachel twisted around to peer through the rear window.



'There are three back there I can pick out as belonging to the  paparazzi,' she was told. 'And there are most likely more of them  following not far behind them.'