To Sin with the Tycoon(62)

‘You mean if I was a bastard then you could never fall for me...’

‘But, bit by bit, that image started to melt and fall apart. And then there was Paris...’

‘And then there was Paris...’

‘I just...got lost in you, Gabriel. It was like you got hold of my heart, and I was terrified, because you’d laid down all those ground rules of yours; because I knew your views on commitment... I decided that the only way to deal with it was to back right off. I thought that, if I backed right off, there just wouldn’t be the glue to keep you attached but it was too late.’

‘Hell, Alice, it was too late for me as well. You were in my head all the time and, idiot that I was, I never stopped to ask myself why I love you, Miss Morgan—and I can’t wait for you to become Mrs Cabrera.’

‘I can’t wait either.’ Her world had opened up the day he had entered it and she felt like she was soaring high when she thought about the whole bright future taking shape in front of her. ‘I want you to hold me and never let me go, because I’ll never let you go.’

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from FONSECA’S FURY by Abby Green.





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CHAPTER ONE

SERENA DEPIERO SAT in the plush ante-room and looked at the name on the opposite wall, spelled out in matt chrome lettering, and reeled.

Roseca Industries and Philanthropic Foundation.

Renewed horror spread through her. It had only been on the plane to Rio de Janeiro, when she’d been reading the extra information on the charity given to her by her boss, that she’d become aware that it was part of a much bigger organisation. An organisation run and set up by Luca Fonseca. The name Roseca was apparently an amalgamation of his father and mother’s surnames. And Serena wasn’t operating on a pay grade level high enough to require her to be aware of this knowledge before now.

Except here she was, outside the CEO’s office, waiting to be called in to see the one man on the planet who had every reason to hate her guts. Why hadn’t he sacked her months ago, as soon as she’d started working for him? Surely he must have known? An insidious suspicion took root: perhaps he’d orchestrated this all along, to lull her into a false sense of security before letting her crash spectacularly to the ground.

That would be breathtakingly cruel, and yet this man owed her nothing but his disdain. She owed him. Serena knew that there was a good chance her career in fundraising was about to be over before it had even taken off. And at that thought she felt a spurt of panic mixed with determination. Surely enough time had passed now? Surely, even if this was some elaborate revenge cooked up by Luca Fonseca as soon as he’d known she was working for him, she could try to convince him how sorry she was?

But before she could wrap her head around it any further a door opened to her right and a sleek dark-haired woman dressed in a grey suit emerged.

‘Senhor Fonseca will see you now, Miss DePiero.’

Serena’s hands clenched tightly around her handbag. She felt like blurting out, But I don’t want to see him!

But she couldn’t. As much as she couldn’t just flee. The car that had met her at the airport to deliver her here still had her luggage in its boot.

As she stood up reluctantly a memory assailed her with such force it almost knocked her sideways: Luca Fonseca in a bloodstained shirt, with a black eye and a split lip. Dark stubble shadowing his swollen jaw. He’d been behind the bars of a jail cell, leaning against a wall, brooding and dangerous. But then he’d looked up and narrowed that intensely dark blue gaze on her, and an expression of icy loathing had come over his face.

He’d straightened and moved to the bars, wrapping his fingers around them almost as if he was imagining they were her neck. Serena had stopped dead at the battered sight of him. He’d spat out, ‘Damn you, Serena DePiero, I wish I’d never laid eyes on you.’

‘Miss DePiero? Senhor Fonseca is waiting.’

The clipped and accented voice shattered Serena’s memory and she forced her feet to move, taking her past the unsmiling woman and into the palatial office beyond.