When She Fell for the Billionaire(44)

Of course he had a store. One that Sabrina had never dared step inside. A belt alone would have probably set her back a half year’s worth of sales. And of course he could have it sent to the middle of nowhere. “But-”

“I want you to stay the night.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then you are free to leave.” His tone was cool.

She studied him, as one might study one’s opponent in a poker game. His face was impassive, but Sabrina was trying to read beneath the mask. “I’ll stay.”

He nodded curtly, but she spied the flicker of relief in his eyes. It comforted her to know that he still wanted her as much as she wanted him. Even if for him it was just temporary.





Chapter 12





Luca had excused himself to Sabrina after they had put their clothes back on, saying he had to go check his emails and other communications that might have come in. They would meet for dinner in thirty minutes. He had been meaning to check them since they came back from the beach, but he had let himself be distracted by a witch. A glance at his mobile showed several text messages and missed calls. He pocketed it, deciding he would attend to it in private.

He had just stepped inside the yacht’s business center, a state of the art conference room that housed several devices–a huge touch screen, telefax machines, copier, and a laptop where any Argenti or their guests could conduct business anywhere in the world–when his mobile rang again.

It was Markos Konstantinos.

“She had a letter delivered to my suite when I arrived this afternoon.”

“She?” There could only be one woman Markos was referring to, but Luca wanted to buy a few seconds before he could grapple with the ugly truth.

“Sabrina Connelly. I had someone look into it. Apparently she bribed a member of the cleaning staff last night to leave it in my room once I arrived.”

Last night. After she had agreed to stay away as a condition of the bargain they had struck, she had gone back on their deal once more. The bitter taste of betrayal rose in his throat.

“I thought you were keeping her occupied,” Markos said accusingly.

“She’s with me aboard the Argenti right now,” he gritted out when he felt like howling. “We left for Isola Vetra this morning.” His grip on the phone tightened. “What did she want?”

Markos seemed to hesitate. Was his anger that obvious?

“It’s private.”

“The hell it’s private!” He had reverted to Italian, his control snapping. “You involved me in your personal affairs and you have the gall to keep the content of that letter private?”

The prolonged silence at the other end of the line must be from shock on Markos’ part. In all the years they had known each other, Markos had been the blustering, short-tempered one.

He hated how telling it was that he was affected by his ex-lover.

“She wants to see me.”

He closed his eyes briefly, striving for control. What did he expect? She was just remaining true to character. She had carried on an affair with a married man while she was still with Latimer. His mistake was thinking she would have been honest for once. With him.

As if he was someone different to her, someone special.

Fool!

All guilt in lying to her about bringing her to the wedding vanished. For a minute there, in the library, he had considered really taking her as his date and to hell with Markos and his promise.

Cold dread laid its hand on his spine. Was this how his father felt about the bitch who lured him away from his mother? Was her power over him that much that he had chosen to throw away more than thirty years of marriage so he could run away with a gold-digging slut?

He wasn’t giving Sabrina Connelly that power.

“I’ve alerted security. Once she’s back in the hotel, she’ll be told that her room is having problems with the water pipes. Since the hotel is fully booked, there will be no available rooms in The Medeia. I have arranged for her to be transferred to a private villa near the beach where she can stay and be monitored until she leaves the island.”

And yet despite her duplicity, he couldn’t help himself. “Tell your security not to lay a fucking finger on her or they’ll answer to me,” he growled.

“I can’t promise anything if she tries to make a scene.”

“She won’t make a scene. I’ll make sure of it,” he said grimly then disconnected the phone.

He plodded on with the emails and hundreds of things that needed his attention. Made calls to Olivia, somehow mustering the concentration needed to sort through the details for the launch. Checked on the reports from the regional store managers. Went over the budget for the spring campaign next year.