Книга - The Sicilian’s Defiant Virgin

The Sicilian's Defiant Virgin
Susan Stephens


‘Do what you have to, Luca. Seduce her, if you must.’Luca Tebaldi spent his life distancing himself from the family empire. So he’s furious at being drawn back in by a gold-digger who’s gotten hold of his late brother’s entire estate!He’ll make Jen Sanderson take her claws out of her ill-gotten riches by luring her to his Sicilian island and seducing the truth out of her!But Luca discovers that Jen is innocent in more ways than one… The sensual virgin challenges him and sets his senses on fire, but is he ready to confront the truth she is enticing out of him?







“Do what you have to, Luca. Seduce her, if you must.”

Luca Tebaldi spent his life distancing himself from the family empire. So he’s furious at being drawn back in by a gold digger who’s gotten hold of his late brother’s entire estate!

He’ll make Jen Sanderson take her claws out of her ill-gotten riches by luring her to his Sicilian island and seducing the truth out of her!

But Luca discovers that Jen is innocent in more ways than one... The sensual virgin challenges him and sets his senses on fire, but is he ready to confront the truth she is enticing out of him?


‘Dance if you dare,’ Luca challenged softly in her ear.

‘Oh, I dare,’ Jen said.

Curving his mouth in one of his faint, heart-stopping smiles, Luca ordered softly, ‘Prove it.’

‘All right. I will,’ she agreed, breaking free from his embrace.

His senses roared as Jen began to dance. The music gave her every excuse to use her body to the full, and she didn’t hold back. She was hotter than hell, and every man knew it. And she was with him—which they also knew.

At the back of his mind the same doubt remained. This woman could act many parts, and one of those parts was that of the girl who had caused his brother to leave her everything.

For now it was enough to watch her dancing. The other women had joined in. He was aware of their dark, flashing eyes, seeking his approval, but he could only see Jen, like a priestess of cool, surrounded by her acolytes. Kissing her was emblazoned on his mind. He could remember exactly how her lips had felt beneath his, and how warm and soft and smooth her skin had felt beneath his hands.

Her eyes glittered invitingly with wicked promise, but was she even aware of the stir she was causing? Jen’s sinuous dance moves suggested she was available for pleasure, but her fierce, flashing eyes said not. It was a challenge he found irresistible.


SUSAN STEPHENS was a professional singer before meeting her husband on the Mediterranean island of Malta. In true Mills & Boon style, they met on Monday, became engaged on Friday and married three months later. Susan enjoys entertaining, travel and going to the theatre. To relax she reads, cooks and plays the piano, and when she’s had enough of relaxing she throws herself off mountains on skis or gallops through the countryside, singing loudly.

Books by Susan Stephens

Mills & Boon Modern Romance

In the Sheikh’s Service

Bound to the Tuscan Billionaire

Master of the Desert

Wedlocked!

A Diamond for Del Rio’s Housekeeper

Hot Brazilian Nights!

In the Brazilian’s Debt

At the Brazilian’s Command

Brazilian’s Nine Months’ Notice

Back in the Brazilian’s Bed

The Skavanga Diamonds

Diamond in the Desert

The Flaw in His Diamond

The Purest of Diamonds?

His Forbidden Diamond

The Acostas!

The Untamed Argentinian

The Shameless Life of Ruiz Acosta

The Argentinian’s Solace

A Taste of the Untamed

The Man from Her Wayward Past

Taming the Last Acosta

Visit the Author Profile page

at millsandboon.co.uk (http://millsandboon.co.uk) for more titles.


The Sicilian’s Defiant Virgin

Susan Stephens






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


For Carly.


Contents

Cover (#ue9badad2-29fe-5a47-be35-f5bd1fe43d15)

Back Cover Text (#u68e61ef6-84fd-5118-ae0b-ae18cffb2c4e)

Introduction (#u36135256-7c35-51fc-9125-0c7914f08ebb)

About the Author (#u1005ca9f-ce02-500a-aa3a-25d0a4300f23)

Title Page (#uc459f0d4-c740-5794-ac8e-0a47fc33e18e)

Dedication (#ucf02fcdc-02a3-5793-901a-fb697b96b330)

CHAPTER ONE (#u493d38ab-478f-5ca6-89fd-27b0794c879b)

CHAPTER TWO (#u9b88cc2b-0751-5593-b1cf-5739554d9dc5)

CHAPTER THREE (#u646d77ea-3bcd-5bf8-9180-28d927d95714)

CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)

Etract (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE (#u3635ef9b-8cb1-5a1c-a2b9-08dd3f0aca30)

‘CHE? BUON DIO!’

Nothing could be worse than his younger brother’s funeral. Until Luca Tebaldi’s father hit him with a fresh disaster.

Swearing savagely under his breath, Luca closed his father’s study door on the stream of mourners who had gathered in Sicily to show their fealty to the Tebaldi clan, rather than to demonstrate their grief at the loss of Luca’s reckless younger brother Raoul in a senseless accident. The Tebaldis were the uncrowned kings of Sicily, but on days like this Luca’s guilt at leaving his homeland as a youth ran thick and deep and ugly.

The funeral was being held on the Tebaldis’ private island off the toe of Sicily, where the Tebaldi family had ruled unchallenged for a thousand years. Luca had rebelled as a youth against the lifestyle of his father and brother, believing their actions belonged to another age. His success was founded on shrewd moves in business, and legitimate takeovers. He had begged his father and brother on countless occasions to change their ways before it was too late. There was no satisfaction in being proved right.

‘If all I had to worry about was Raoul’s gambling debts...’ The man the world still called Don Tebaldi slumped back in his leather chair, looking spent and exhausted.

‘Whatever has happened, I’ll put it right,’ Luca soothed his father. ‘You have nothing to worry about.’ They might not see eye to eye, but blood was thicker than water.

‘You can’t put this right, Luca,’ his father assured him.

‘I’ll fix it,’ Luca stated firmly. He had never seen his father looking quite so defeated.

‘As if I didn’t have enough with your brother’s gambling, Raoul thought it would be amusing to leave his estate to some girl he met at that casino in London.’

There was no change in Luca’s expression, but his mind was whirring. His brother had been a compulsive gambler, who had increasingly distanced himself from Luca. On their last meeting Raoul had said Luca would never understand him.

‘I retire to Florida soon,’ Luca’s father reminded him. ‘You’ll have to go to London to clear up Raoul’s mess. Who better for the task than you, with your morally judgemental view on life?’

His father’s angry gesture and the sneer on his face revealed Don Tebaldi’s contempt for his sons—one too weak, and the other too strong, he would say.

Luca found it incomprehensible that a parent could feel such a level of loathing for their children. He watched as a man turned suddenly old manoeuvred his arthritic limbs behind the desk. A lifetime of excess had finally caught up with his father. He felt compassion, though they had never been close. Considering the practical side of the problem, his business interests were so successful he could easily take a break. He must. His father needed him.

‘This wouldn’t have happened if you had followed me into the family business,’ his father moaned as he buried his face in his hands.

‘Joining the family business was never an option for me, and it never will be,’ Luca said.

His father lifted his face from his hands, his expression hardening into the unforgiving mask Luca remembered so well from his childhood.

‘You don’t deserve my love,’ he spat out viciously. ‘You’re not worthy to be my son. Raoul was weak, and you are worse, because you could have taken over from me, making the name Tebaldi great again.’

‘I would do anything to help you, but not that,’ Luca replied evenly, his mind already working on his trip to London.

His father’s scornful look remained trained on his face. Neither of his sons had been blessed with his killer instinct, Don Tebaldi would tell them when Luca and Raoul were youths, as if this were a quality they should aspire to.

‘You are a stubborn fool, Luca. You always were.’

‘Because I won’t do as you say?’

‘Correct. And as for Raoul?’ His father made a sound of disgust.

‘Raoul always tried to please you, Father—’

‘Then, he failed!’ his father raged, slamming his fist on the desk to make the point.

Luca said nothing. He’d been out of the loop for a long time working on his various charitable projects. He wished he’d been around for his brother. He wished his father could show some emotion, other than hate. Even Don Tebaldi’s shadowed study reeked of bitterness and disappointment in his sons, yet Luca felt compelled to offer reassurance to the older man—and he would have done, if his father’s cold stare hadn’t forbidden any form of human contact between them. It was an expression that lacked every shred of parental warmth.

‘Leave me,’ his father commanded. ‘If you’ve nothing positive to offer, get out!’

‘Never,’ Luca said quietly. ‘Family comes first, whether I work for the family business, or not.’

‘What family business?’ his father hissed bitterly. ‘There’s nothing left thanks to your brother.’

‘There are islanders to protect,’ Luca argued quietly.

‘Then, you do it!’ his father blazed. ‘I’m done here.’ Dropping his head into his hands, the once great leader began to sob like a child.

Tactfully turning his back, Luca waited for the storm to blow over. He wasn’t going anywhere. Neither his father nor Raoul had ever been able to accept that he would love them, no matter what.

Luca Tebaldi could have been a worthy successor to a man who had ruled his fiefdom with a rod of iron for more than fifty years. Well over six feet tall, with the hard-muscled frame of a Roman gladiator, Luca was considered to be outrageously good-looking. With the intellect of a scholar and the keen stare of a warrior, Luca possessed the type of dangerously compelling glamour of a man born to rule. But it was Luca’s steel-trap mind that had brought him such huge success. His business interests were wholly legitimate, and had been founded far away from his father’s crumbling empire. Rampant sex appeal made him irresistible to women, but Luca had no time for softening influences in his life, though his late, hugely passionate Italian mother had drummed into him an appreciation of the fairer sex. Luca’s raging libido was a hitch that he and his iron control had learned to live with.

His father looked up. ‘How could you not know what was happening to Raoul? You both own property in London.’

‘Our paths rarely crossed,’ Luca admitted. His life was so different from that of his fast-living brother. ‘Is there anything more I should know before I leave for London?’ he pressed, wanting to move past the histrionics to the meat of the matter.

His father shrugged. ‘Raoul owed money everywhere. He left several properties, all heavily mortgaged—’ These he dismissed with a contemptuous flick of his wrist. ‘It’s the trust fund that concerns me. She gets that!’

A trust fund worth millions, Luca calculated, and one of the few sources of money Raoul hadn’t been able to get his hands on to fritter away. Raoul wouldn’t have been able to touch the trust until his thirtieth birthday, a date still six months in the future. ‘This will make Raoul’s girlfriend very wealthy indeed,’ he murmured thoughtfully. ‘Do we know anything about her?’

‘Enough to destroy her,’ his father informed him with relish.

‘That won’t be necessary,’ Luca ruled. ‘Raoul didn’t expect to be killed. He almost certainly drew up this will on a whim—probably after you fell out about something?’ The brief look on his father’s face suggested he was right. ‘My brother would almost certainly have changed his intentions in time.’

‘How comforting,’ his father scoffed. ‘What I need to know, is, what are you going to do about it now?’

‘I’d rather Raoul had lived,’ Luca reproached his father.

‘Live to your prescription?’ his father scorned angrily. ‘Hard work and trust in your fellow man—who doesn’t give a flying fig about you, by the way. I’d rather be dead than live like that!’

‘Raoul has paid the ultimate price,’ Luca pointed out sharply.

He’d had enough of pandering to a self-centred old man. He was still grieving for his brother, and longed for solitude so he could dwell on happier times. Raoul hadn’t always been weak, or a criminal. As a child with the world at his feet, Raoul had been trusting and funny and mischievous. Luca remembered him as a wild-haired scamp, who had liked to tag along with Luca and his friends to show the older boys how reckless he could be. Raoul could swim as fast as they could, and he could dive as deep too, sometimes remaining submerged for so long that Luca had to dive down to bring him up again. It was always a prank, designed to wind Luca up, but Raoul’s daring had been his entry ticket into the group. Luca and his friends had grown out of their wildness as life forced them to shoulder increased responsibility, but Raoul had never lost his lust for danger, and in one last reckless act had joined an infamous street-racing gang. He’d been killed instantly in a head-on collision between two cars. By some miracle, there were no other casualties, but Raoul’s death was the most hideous waste of life.

‘What a tragedy,’ Luca murmured out loud as he remembered the details as relayed to him by the police officers on the scene.

‘What a mess,’ his father argued. ‘Sometimes I think your brother’s sole intention was to hurt me.’

Always the self-pity, Luca thought, but when his father’s fist closed around a lethal-looking paper knife and he looked as if he might stab it into the document in front of him, which Luca presumed could only be Raoul’s will, he intervened. ‘May I see that before you destroy it?’

‘Be my guest.’ His father shoved the papers across the desk. ‘Raoul’s lawyer was here before the funeral. “As a courtesy to you, Don Tebaldi—”’ His father mimicked a wheedling voice. ‘When you and I both know he was only interested in his fee.’

‘You can’t blame him for that,’ Luca observed as he settled down to read. ‘Raoul wasn’t always quick to pay his debts.’ He glanced up briefly. ‘And he certainly isn’t in a position to do so now.’

His father’s expression hardened. ‘You’re missing the point, Luca. The lawyer’s visit was a warning. He was telling me—me, Don Tebaldi—not to accidentally misplace Raoul’s will, or destroy it, as he had already cast his weasel eyes over it.’

‘Raoul was free to do as he liked,’ Luca commented mildly. ‘This document seems very thorough. This girl must have meant a lot to him.’

‘It’s unlikely the girl was a love interest,’ his father rapped. ‘More likely, she was a clever trickster. Thanks to Raoul’s mismanagement the Tebaldi family has lost most of its power and influence, but we still have enemies, Luca. How do I know that one of them hasn’t put this girl up to this act of extortion?’ He clutched his chest theatrically. ‘I can just imagine—’

‘Has she been notified of Raoul’s death?’ Luca interrupted.

‘I asked the lawyer to hold off.’ Having made an instant recovery, his father shrugged. ‘I made it worth his while to do so. And she won’t find out from the media. Your brother’s death will hardly make the international news. Raoul would have had to make a mark on the world to do that. So yes, we can keep it quiet for now. You’re still one step ahead of her. Go to London. Buy her off. Do whatever it takes—’

While his father warmed to his theme, Luca battled the ache of loss for a brother he had loved as a child, and had lost touch with as an adult. The few times they’d met recently, Raoul had mocked the way Luca lived his life, while Luca had been frustrated that Raoul couldn’t seem to break free of the vicious cycle of gambling and debt. On their last meeting, he had sensed Raoul had wanted to tell him something, but hadn’t felt able to confide in him. It was no use asking his father what this might have been, but maybe the girl could help. He would take the jet to London to find out who she was and what she wanted.

It was time to drill down into the facts. ‘What do we know about this woman?’

Having tired of the theatricals, his father had moved on to studying the racing papers. ‘She’s a mouse,’ he stated with confidence, glancing up. ‘She’ll give you no trouble. She lives quietly on her own with no money, no family, and no way to fight us.’

Luca frowned. ‘The lawyer told you this?’

‘I still have my contacts.’ His father laid a finger down the side of his nose to demonstrate how clever he was. ‘She works behind the scenes at Smithers & Worseley—the auction house that handles the high-value gemstones I collect. She makes tea there, and polishes dust off picture frames, from what I can gather, though she is studying for some fancy title or other.’ His father sneered at this, but then brightened as he considered his own cleverness. ‘I lost no time calling London this morning to find out what I could about her.’

Putting financial gain over the death of his son on the day of the funeral might have shocked Luca, if he hadn’t known his father so well.

‘I used the old charm on the chairman of the auction house,’ his father recounted gleefully. ‘He was only too happy to gossip with Don Tebaldi, one of his most favoured clients—’

Probably the most gullible too, Luca thought. His father was like a magpie when it came to collecting glittering gems.

An idea had begun to take root in Luca’s mind. He’d read something about a fabulous gemstone with a curse on it that was due to be sold in the next few days at Smithers & Worseley. When a gem came with a curse, it was a dead cert his father would pay over the odds for it. Don Tebaldi’s hidden collection was second to none. He kept his treasures hidden away on the island, where no one but he could gloat over them.

‘The girl has a second job, working in a high-end bar attached to the casino where your brother used to play the tables,’ his father continued, showing his contempt for the girl with a derisive laugh. ‘I imagine she took the job so she could keep a lookout for men with money.’

‘We don’t know that.’ Luca frowned. Only the facts interested Luca, and he doubted any woman with sense would make a play for a compulsive gambler like Raoul. ‘I’ll find her,’ he promised grimly. ‘You say she’s a mouse, but we’ve no proof of that. Either way, she’s going to be a very wealthy mouse, which means she can gnaw her way through the security I’ve put in place to protect you from the past.’

‘The past?’ his father derided. ‘Pshaw! Those shadows can’t reach me when I’ve retired to Florida. I’m part of the past. I’m finished now,’ he added with a wail of self-pity. ‘Do what you have to, Luca. Seduce her, if you must,’ he recommended, his face brightening at the thought.

Luca hummed. He had more important things to do than indulge his father’s fantasies. ‘I’ve got a better idea.’

‘Then, share it,’ his father insisted impatiently.

‘We’ve got six months until Raoul’s trust is released,’ Luca said as he calmly calculated the facts. ‘She can’t get her hands on the money until then. And, just in case the lawyer has a sudden fit of conscience, I’ll keep her out of his way.’

‘Bring her here to the island?’ his father said, catching on.

‘It seems to be the obvious solution,’ Luca confirmed.

His father perked up. ‘But how will you persuade her to do that?’

‘You’ll buy another gemstone,’ he said.

‘Ah...’ As realisation slowly dawned on his face Don Tebaldi relaxed. ‘This is a brilliant solution, Luca—and one you must set in place at once. But allow yourself some fun along the way. Life doesn’t have to be all about principles and caring. She may turn out to be a pretty girl, and she owes us something for the stress she’s caused me.’

Disgusted, Luca refrained from comment. It was time to hunt down the mouse.

* * *

‘It’s Retro Night at the club!’ Jay-Dee, who was usually a server like Jen at the casino, announced so loudly the club speakers howled with feedback.

For one night only Jay-Dee was MC for the annual charity event. He was in his element, Jen thought with amusement. Jay-Dee had a warm, theatrical manner, and so much verve for life, everyone loved him.

Jen thought of her friends at the casino as gloriously colourful exclamation marks in the regular pattern of her neat and ordered life. When she wasn’t working in the silent intensity of the auction house, she was poring over study books with her feet so close to her three-bar electric fire in the bedsit where she lived, she was in danger of getting chilblains. Qualifying as a gemologist was Jen’s goal. Her mother had been a renowned gemologist, who had passed on her fascination with treasures locked deep in the earth to her daughters. The stories she’d told them about hidden treasures when they were little girls, it was no wonder that Lyddie had grown up wanting to wear the sparkling jewels, while Jen had desperately wanted to learn more about them. She had never lost the sense of magic her mother had passed on to her, or the thought that somewhere beneath her feet there could be precious minerals, or even diamonds.

But it was Jen’s job at the casino that put the chilli spice in her life, and went some way to replacing the family she’d lost. She and Lyddie had lost their parents when Jen was just eighteen. A car crash had taken them, and then the local authority had wanted to take Lyddie. Their father and mother had set such a shining example that as soon as Jen was over the worst of the shock, she was determined to keep things running as smoothly as possible for her sister. Those in authority insisted that Jen was too young to take on the responsibility of a teenage sister, but she had fought to keep Lyddie with her, and Jen’s dogged persistence had finally paid off. There was no chance she would have let Lyddie go into care. She’d heard what could happen to thirteen-year-old girls, and as long as she had breath in her body no one was going to take her sister away—only fate could do that, Jen reflected wistfully.

‘Reach for your wallets!’ Jay-Dee’s strident voice shook Jen alert. ‘You know you want to!’ he bellowed. ‘The charity needs our help! We might need help from the charity one day—think of that!’ He glanced towards the wings where Jen was standing. ‘Dig deep, my friends! Our first lot...’ He gestured frantically that it was time for Jen to join him on the stage. ‘What will you give me for this plump rabbit, ready for the pot...?’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ Jen exploded with laughter as she checked her long furry ears were fixed in place. ‘How am I supposed to walk on stage after an introduction like that?’

‘With attitude,’ one of Jen’s best friends, casino manager Tess, who was standing with her, advised.

‘Does Jay-Dee have to whip the crowd into such a frenzy? If this retro night wasn’t in aid of such a worthwhile charity you’d never get me up there.’

The charity was particularly dear to Jen’s heart. Its volunteers had helped her when her sister died. One of them had been at her side from the moment she first saw Lyddie lying in a coma in ICU, right up to the heart-wrenching memorial service for her sister.

‘Raising money for this charity is the only reason I’ve allowed myself to be dressed by a sadistic corset engineer and have a powder puff stuck on my bum,’ Jen said as she silently dedicated the next hour or so to the sister who would have loved nothing more than to be here in the midst of the fun to cheer her on.

‘The more excitement you generate, the more they’ll pay,’ practical-minded Tess declared as she tweaked the bow tie she was sporting with her boxy, forties-style suit. ‘You’ll enjoy it once the spotlight hits you.’

‘Can I have your word on that?’ Jen asked wryly.

‘Hop to it, bunny! Hop!’ Tess commanded, miming a whip-crack.

‘I feel like a rabbit trapped in headlights, while the hounds bay blue murder from the side of the road—’

‘You don’t strike me as anything short of a tiger—if a rather small one,’ Tess conceded with amusement. ‘You should be proud of your assets,’ she added, casting an appreciative eye over Jen’s closely bound form.

‘With those lights at least I won’t be able to see any of the medallion men bidding to have dinner with me—if any of them bid, which I doubt.’

‘They’ll bid,’ Tess assured her. ‘Now, get out there and strut your stuff, Ms Wabbit!’

‘What will you give me for this plump rabbit, ready for the pot?’ Jay-Dee said again in a slightly hysterical tone as he glanced repeatedly into the wings.

‘Here goes nothing!’ Jen declared, knowing she couldn’t put off her entrance any longer.

She felt exposed in the spotlight. Her satin suit was cut like a particularly revealing swimming costume. High on the leg, it left very little to the imagination, paired with flesh-toned fishnet tights, and stratospheric heels. Even Jen had to admit that with her long red hair left flowing free beneath her bunny ears the effect was startling—if a little different from her normal, understated-to-a-fault self.

‘Here’s to you, Lyddie,’ she murmured as the stage lights blinded her.

Jay-Dee, who was dressed in garish eighties flares and platform boots, gasped with relief as he rushed to lead Jen centre stage.

‘You look beeeoootiful,’ he gushed as the crowd went wild.

‘I look ridiculous,’ Jen argued, laughing. Getting into the mood of the night, she struck a pose.


CHAPTER TWO (#u3635ef9b-8cb1-5a1c-a2b9-08dd3f0aca30)

HIS FATHER ONLY confided in him when he wanted something, Luca reflected as he parked up outside the exclusive London club. They had never been close. Never would be close. Luca had built his own life, far away from the family compound, where he’d grown up behind razor wire with guards patrolling the grounds, with their automatic weapons ostentatiously cocked.

Tipping the valet to park his car, he pulled on his jacket, brushed back his hair, and shot his cuffs. Black diamond links glittered at his wrists. This was his London look, the passport that gained him entry to even the most exclusive Members Only club. As he approached the entrance, the door swung wide to welcome him. His first impression of the upmarket gambling den was that it was as dreary as his father’s study. Subtle lighting set the mood, and, though he doubted the glass was bulletproof, the deep shadow still reminded him of a fortress home he preferred to forget.

‘Are you here for the auction, sir?’ the smiling hostess asked, putting on her best smile.

‘Apologies,’ he said, glancing down. ‘My mind was elsewhere. An auction?’ he queried.

‘For charity, sir—to support those with head injuries, and those who care for them, or who are bereaved.’ She risked a broader smile as she gained in confidence. ‘Don’t think it’s a depressing night—it’s anything but. It’s a riot in there—I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.’

He doubted that. He handed her a high-value note. ‘For your trouble,’ he said.

‘Have a good evening, sir—’

He doubted that too.

It took him a moment to adjust his gaze. If the entrance to the club was poorly lit, the interior was positively Stygian. None of the gambling tables was in operation and everyone’s attention was fixed on the brilliantly lit stage, where a skimpily dressed girl, clad in a satin swimsuit with cock-eyed rabbit ears balanced precariously on top of her head, was gyrating to the pounding music, while punters called out bids to an excessively excitable MC.

‘What’s going on?’ he asked a waiter hurrying past with a tray of drinks.

The man followed his glance to the stage. ‘Dinner for two with Ms Bunny up there is on offer.’

‘Thank you.’ He slipped him a twenty, and then leaned back against a pillar to watch.

He understood at once why there was such interest in this particular lot. Ms Bunny had something unique about her—almost enough to make him smile. It wasn’t that she was so good at what she was doing, but that she was so utterly hopeless, and that she couldn’t have cared less. She had good humour in plenty, but no sense of rhythm, and even less idea of how to walk elegantly in her high-heel shoes. She was throwing herself about in a way that made him want to take off his jacket to shield her from the baying crowd—but at least they were on her side, he noticed, glancing around. His attention returned to the stage.

She felt his interest and their stares connected briefly. A raised brow told him that a rescue attempt would not be appreciated.

There was fire beneath that costume, and it was enough to hold him to the end of her act. She was attractive, but not showy or flashy, however hard she was trying to appear so. The punters were wolf-whistling and stamping their feet for more by now, which she gladly gave them. Spotting the maître d’, he remembered the reason for his mission and reluctantly pulled away from the pillar so he could ask if a Ms Jennifer Sanderson worked at the club.

‘Jen’s a waitress,’ the maître d’ confirmed. ‘But not tonight,’ he added, glancing at the stage. He leaned in close to make himself heard above the noise. ‘For one night only, Jen’s taking part in the charity auction. It’s a cause very close to her heart,’ he added, piquing Luca’s interest. ‘That’s her up on the stage now,’ he enthused. ‘Sensational, isn’t she? I’ve only seen Jen in her server’s uniform before, or in jeans. It’s surprising what a difference a pair of ears can make.’

It wasn’t her ears Luca was looking at.

And his plan had just folded. Dealing with a mouse was one thing, but from the way she was handling the audience at the club he doubted Ms Jennifer Sanderson was even close to the pushover his father had imagined. She’d got all the hard-bitten punters in the casino eating out of the palm of her hand. The more she gambolled around the stage, sending herself up, the more the audience loved her. In another life she could have been an entertainer. The maître d’ was spot on. She was sensational, but Jennifer Sanderson was as much a mouse as Luca.

* * *

Jen couldn’t believe how high the bidding was going. ‘Keep it up,’ Tess advised in the loudest stage whisper ever from the wings.

Turning her back to the audience, Jen stuck out her rump and wiggled her powder-puff tail so enthusiastically it encouraged a fresh round of bidding from the crowd.

‘I thought you were supposed to be a feminist,’ Jen chastised Tess when she finally sashayed off stage to thunderous applause.

‘I’m happy to leave my principles at the door when ten thousand is in the bag for the charity,’ Tess exclaimed.

‘Ten thousand!’ Jen hugged her friend excitedly. ‘I was so busy wiggling I wasn’t listening to the bidding. Who on earth paid that much to have dinner with me?’

‘Someone who doesn’t mess around?’ Tess suggested, pressing her lips together as she shrugged. ‘Time to get your Miss Prim on, and start serving those hungry diners,’ she added. ‘They’ll need something to settle them down after the excitement you’ve given them.’

Jen hurried off with a wide grin on her face. She couldn’t wait to release her straining body from the too-tight costume. One thing that could be said for the club was that no two days were the same. She loved her job. If she didn’t work here, she wouldn’t hear the stories she did. Some of the customers were lonely, and only gambled to while away their lonely nights, they told her. Jen thought that, for at least some of the members, gambling was an illness, but she’d always been a good listener and credited the customers at the club with saving her when Lyddie had been fatally injured in a cycling accident. Talking to people, and having a routine to cling onto, had helped Jen to climb back from a dark hole of grief. The volunteers from the charity had told her that shutting herself away was the worst thing she could do. She had to get out and start living again for her sister’s sake. Life was precious and she shouldn’t waste a moment of it. They were right, hence her outrageous outfit tonight. She would do anything she could to support them after what they’d done for her.

Having exchanged the sexy satin suit for the sombre black and white uniform she wore as a server, Jen squeezed her way through the customers clustered around the bar.

‘Excuse me—’ She inhaled sharply as a man barred her way.

Jen’s body reacted violently with approval. Too tanned and fit to be a regular at the club, he was tall, dark and swarthy, with thick, wavy black hair, and an unwavering stare. Lean and muscular, he was ferociously commanding. Maybe he was someone important. He certainly had shedloads of presence, but there was something about him that made her shiver inwardly.

He was brutally masculine. That had to be it, Jen reasoned. And she thought she knew him from somewhere. He’d been leaning against a pillar watching her dance tonight, and they’d exchanged a couple of glances—his interested, hers a warning to keep off the grass. But now she could see him close up, she wondered if she’d seen him before at the club.

‘I’d appreciate having a word with you in private,’ he said.

‘Me?’ She had been glancing round for Tess, thinking an important visitor would ask for the manager.

‘Yes, you. Alone.’

He might be the most attractive man she’d ever seen, but a private interview wasn’t going to happen. ‘I’m sorry, but I have to work.’

He didn’t take well to her flat-out refusal. As one sweeping ebony brow rose in disapproval she was already looking for a member of the security staff.

‘You won’t need them,’ he said, as if he could read her mind. ‘I don’t mean you any harm.’

‘I should hope not,’ she said, forcing a laugh into her voice. ‘Sorry, but I really do have to go now.’ She stared past him towards the restaurant, but he remained like a roadblock in her way.

‘I’ve paid a lot of money to have dinner with you.’

‘Oh, it’s you,’ she said, remembering the ten thousand. And now she remembered why he was familiar to her.

She raised a brow as his bold stare swept over her, heating every part of her on the way. ‘You’re Italian, aren’t you?’ she said.

His eyes warmed briefly. ‘Sicilian, to be exact.’

That was right. She’d got it now. ‘Very glamorous,’ she said distractedly as she thought what this might mean.

‘Hardly,’ he said.

But arrogant, she thought. Meanwhile, her body was going crazy. He exuded pheromones like room haze. Celibacy had become a habit Jen had seen no reason to break. She was certainly paying for those years of denial now.

He frowned as he angled his stubble-shaded chin to stare down at her. ‘What makes you think Sicilians are glamorous?’

‘Oh, you know...’ She waved her hand airily. ‘Sicily seems such a glamorous destination—the fabulous scenery on the island, the emerald-green sea, the sandy beaches, the Godfather—’

‘That’s a fantasy,’ he cut in.

‘I do know that. Look, is there anything else I can do for you before I go to work?’

‘Yes. Confirm our dinner date,’ he said.

‘Well, I’m afraid it can’t be tonight. I’m really sorry, but I’m sure we can work something out.’ She hoped he’d take the hint and move on—arrange something with Tess, or with Jay-Dee. He didn’t move. He remained squarely in her way. ‘You could speak to the casino manager, Tess, about your prize. She’s right over there by the door.’ She turned and pointed.

‘I’d rather talk to you,’ he said in a way that made all the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand erect.

There was no give in him at all, and he had paid a lot of money that would go to Jen’s favourite charity. She mustn’t do anything to jeopardise that.

‘Just a few moments of your time,’ he said with a faint smile that couldn’t rub out her first impression that he looked like a pirate on a raid, though he’d shaved recently and she wasn’t sure if pirates had access to razors. Nor did they wear custom-made suits, she thought, though with those shoulders she doubted he could buy anything off the peg.

‘Something amusing you?’

‘I’m just a little tense,’ she admitted, drunk on the faintest hint of his exclusive cologne. ‘I’m going to be late for work.’

‘Surely, they’ll forgive you this once? You have been otherwise occupied.’

‘And now the auction’s over, and we’re short-handed tonight.’

‘Pity.’

His lips pressed down in the most attractive way, and his stare was warm on her face. But...from the collar of his handmade shirt, to the tip of his highly polished shoes he radiated money, power, and success. So why was an affluent, good-looking Sicilian prepared to fork out ten thousand for a date with a waitress? Surely he could take his pick from a long line of society beauties? Or did he just have a big, charitable heart, and had happened to call in at the club by chance?

She was getting a bad feeling about this.

He reminded her of Raoul Tebaldi, a compulsive gambler Jen had come to know at the club. Everyone knew that Raoul was the son of a man who had been a notorious gangster in his day, but Jen had come to like the quiet Sicilian. She’d lost her sister, and Raoul was estranged from his family. The distance from his brother had hurt him most of all, because they had been close when they were young. This sense of loss had given them a bond, and they’d become close. Jen had looked forward to seeing Raoul each night at the club, but he hadn’t been around for quite some time. A pang of dread struck her now, at the thought that something might have happened to Raoul, but, seeing the maître d’ beckoning to her out of the corner of her eye, she knew she had to cut this short.

‘I promise we’ll have dinner another night,’ she assured the Sicilian stranger.

‘I can’t wait long,’ he said.

Jen’s heart leapt in her chest, though she told herself sensibly that what he meant was that he would be leaving London soon, and not that he was impatient to see her.

‘I won’t let you down,’ she promised.

His narrowed eyes suggested she’d better not. ‘Let’s make our dinner at a time and a place of my choosing,’ he suggested. ‘And then it will be a surprise.’

‘It should be here,’ she said. ‘That’s what you’ve paid for.’

‘So long as we make a date before I leave,’ he conceded, not wanting to put her off by appearing harsh.

‘I’m sure that will be possible,’ she said.

The girl was either as innocent as she looked, or she was a very good actress. Neither possibility could explain Raoul’s actions. Innocence had hardly been his younger brother’s area of expertise, and if she had somehow manipulated Raoul, she could be trouble. As his father had predicted, the tragedy hadn’t made the international news, so he doubted she knew his brother was dead. He couldn’t be certain if Raoul had shared the contents of his will with her, but he would find out.

‘You’ll enjoy the food here,’ she said. ‘And you’ll eat free.’

If ten thousand could be called free, he thought as the balance tipped in favour of her innocence. ‘Eat here?’ he said, frowning.

‘Why not?’ she said, turning her face up to him in a way that made his senses stir.

He had accompanied her to the fringes of the restaurant, but the casino was too strong a reminder of everything he’d got wrong where his brother was concerned. He wanted to leave so he couldn’t see Raoul drinking too much at the bar, or throwing his money away at the tables. He had loved his brother deeply, and had longed for them to be reunited, but Raoul had pushed him away. And now it was too late.

‘You won’t be disappointed,’ she said, misreading his expression. ‘The chefs are excellent.’

‘But you might like a change,’ he said. ‘You can go anywhere—and I do mean anywhere in the world.’

Jen was stunned. The man was wealthy enough to pay a fortune to have dinner with her for some reason, and now he was suggesting she should leap on board his billionaire bandwagon and go with him to places unknown. How stupid would she have to be to do that?

Her heart disagreed and raced with excitement. Her body wasn’t much help. It looked to casting off years of celibacy with unbounded enthusiasm. Thankfully, she had more sense. He could have any woman he wanted. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a date. It was time to get real.

‘That’s very kind of you,’ she said politely, ‘but as we’ve never met before, I’m sure you’ll understand if I tell you that I’d feel safer here.’

‘Don’t you trust me?’ he asked.

There was amusement in his eyes. ‘I don’t know you,’ she said.

And then, with the charity at the forefront of her mind, she suggested, ‘How about seven’ o clock tomorrow evening, here? Before the club gets busy,’ she explained. ‘Would that suit you?’ Whether it did or not, that was her best and final offer.

‘I’m looking forward to it already,’ he said.

There was another suspicious glow in his eyes. ‘Good. So am I—and now I really do have to go.’

‘Of course,’ he said, turning.

She still stared at him admiringly as he walked away, transfixed by his long, lean legs, and muscular back view. It was only when he had completely disappeared from sight she realised that they hadn’t even introduced themselves. So, was he related to Raoul Tebaldi, or not?

He must have put something down on paper when he bought the auction lot, Jen reasoned. No one parted with that type of money without attaching a name to it.

‘Something wrong?’

She turned to see Tess, the casino manager, staring at her with concern. Tess’s sixth sense where staff were concerned was unbeatable.

‘He wasn’t bothering you, was he?’ Tess demanded as she followed Jen’s stare to the door.

‘No. He wanted to have that dinner tonight, and as we’re short-handed I told him that I couldn’t do that. Did he remind you of someone?’ she added, frowning. ‘Do you remember Raoul, that lonely man who used to play the tables until he had no money left?’

Tess shrugged. ‘I see thousands of men come through here every year. None of them hold my attention for long, unless they complain about something. Why do you ask?’

Jen shrugged. ‘No reason. And I’m probably wrong. Anyway, I do feel better having laid down some ground rules.’

‘I would have done that for you,’ Tess insisted. ‘You only had to ask.’

‘I can handle men like him,’ Jen assured Tess with more confidence than she felt. ‘I wouldn’t deserve a job here if I couldn’t...’

‘But?’ Tess queried, picking up on Jen’s hesitation.

‘But he struck me as a man who doesn’t play by the rules,’ Jen said thoughtfully.

‘Unless he writes them?’ Tess suggested.

Jen hummed. She didn’t want to burden Tess with her concerns, and it was no use brooding on them. Work would take her mind off the mystery man—she hoped.

* * *

It was a relief to leave the club. He dragged on the chilly London air as if it were the purest oxygen. He felt as if his head had been under water for the past half-hour. He blamed himself for not stopping Raoul’s downslide sooner. He couldn’t believe he’d been so blind to his brother’s troubles, or that things had got so bad.

Raoul’s debts were eye-watering. He’d paid them off, dealing with an expressionless man behind a grill at the club, and then he made his donation to the charity. Next he had to unpick the story of a woman who’d just become an unlikely heiress to a fortune she knew nothing about. He had made no final decision about Jennifer Sanderson. She appealed to him with her bold challenges and her curvaceous body. It was all too easy to imagine her clinging to his arms in the throes of passion. That might not be what he was here for, but it was the thought he carried with him from the club.


CHAPTER THREE (#u3635ef9b-8cb1-5a1c-a2b9-08dd3f0aca30)

‘DID THAT MAN I was talking to hand over the money for the auction lot?’ Jen asked Tess as casually as she could at the end of the night.

‘All ten thousand,’ Tess confirmed. ‘And he paid off his brother’s gambling debts.’

‘His brother?’

‘Raoul Tebaldi.’

A shiver raced down Jen’s spine at the thought that, just as she had suspected, the Sicilian stranger was Raoul’s brother. Raoul had confided in her that he was on a downward spiral, and only wished he were still close to his brother. ‘If only I could confide in Luca as I used to when we were young,’ he’d said with such longing in his eyes.

Luca...

‘I don’t know anything more about the guy who bought the dinner with you,’ Tess admitted. ‘My best guess is, he’ll be back to collect what he’s paid for. He didn’t strike me as the type to cut and run.’

‘Worse luck,’ Jen said, only half joking.

‘Who are you trying to kid?’ Tess demanded, shooting Jen a shrewd look. ‘It isn’t every day a man walks into the club and pays a fortune to have dinner with you—especially not one who looks like that.’

‘Which is exactly why I’m so suspicious,’ Jen confessed. ‘Surely, I’m hardly his type.’

‘He’s a generous guy with plenty of money,’ Tess argued. ‘Why read any more into it than that? My job here is to keep everyone happy and make sure things run smoothly, while yours is to make everyone feel welcome—and no more than that. You hit the right balance beautifully, Jen, which is why you’re so popular.’

All Jen could think was, what had happened to Raoul? She didn’t have a good feeling about it. The coincidence of his brother buying time with her was just too strong. Why had he done that? What did he want? Had Raoul mentioned her to Luca? That seemed unlikely. Was it possible that while she’d been getting on with her life, another tragedy had been unfolding?

* * *

Friday morning, aka almost the weekend, and Jen was settling in to her day job. Officially, according to her employment records, she was a part-time student studying to be a gemologist, working in central London on day release from college, so she could gain hands-on experience of working with precious stones. In reality, she went to college three days a week, and the rest of the time she was gofer and tea lady to the distinguished ladies and gentlemen of the board at Smithers & Worseley Auction House, London

‘The buyer’s request is quite straightforward,’ the chairman of the prestigious house had just announced.

Staring down his aquiline nose through gold half-moon glasses, Melvyn Worseley Esquire proceeded to explain: ‘Don Tebaldi, our venerable client from Sicily—some of you may have heard of him?’

Sicily? Jen was now fully alert.

The chairman gave a dramatic pause, during which a chorus of critical hums rang out around the boardroom table. Everyone knew the reputation of the infamous Don Tebaldi, a man supposedly retired, but in the world he inhabited did anyone ever really retire? That was the unspoken question.

‘Has requested that a member of our staff shall hand-carry the Emperor’s Diamond to Sicily, where that same member of staff will create an exhibition of Don Tebaldi’s private collection, having as its centrepiece the notorious stone.’

‘Relieving Don Tebaldi of the need to touch the stone,’ one director commented with a scornful laugh. ‘He might be an old gangster, but he’s just as afraid of its supposed curse as everyone else.’

The chairman paused to allow the laughter to die down. ‘His son, Signor Luca Tebaldi—’

Jen’s head shot up. Luca Tebaldi! The man she’d met at the club.

‘Will be organising security,’ the chairman continued, ‘for both the courier of the gem, and the gem itself.’ He looked straight at Jen. ‘Am I correct in thinking that you passed the module for presenting an exhibition with a certificate of excellence, Jennifer?’

‘What, me? No—yes. I mean, definitely yes.’ Hearing Luca’s name again had thrown her. Hearing it mentioned in the same breath as travelling to Sicily to put on some sort of exhibition for his father was distinctly alarming. She’d had the strongest sense of events overtaking her from the moment he’d stood in her way at the club.

‘No wonder Don Tebaldi doesn’t want to handle the gem,’ another director commented. ‘Who does? Though from what I’ve heard, the Don’s luck has already run out.’

The cruel laughter around the table grated on Jen.

‘His business has been on the downslide for some time now,’ the chairman agreed, ‘though these things can be reversed, and there’s no reason to suppose the Tebaldis won’t remain good clients of ours...’

Was that all he cared about? Jen thought as the chairman’s stare rested on her face.

‘For some unaccountable reason,’ the chairman continued, ‘Don Tebaldi has asked for you by name, Jennifer. You are to courier the stone to Sicily, and you are to display it along with the rest of his gems.’

‘Me?’ she said faintly.

‘I explained that you were still a student,’ the chairman told her to murmurs of surprise around the table, ‘but Don Tebaldi has insisted. It appears that he has researched every member of staff, and, having read your college report and discovered that you are this year’s top student, he has asked—insisted, actually, on hiring your new, fresh approach.’

‘But I can’t—’

‘Yes, you can,’ the chairman argued sharply. ‘Don Tebaldi has amassed a priceless collection over the years, and it’s a great honour for you to be selected for this task. You must think how it will look on your CV.’

And on the auction house register. The chairman did nothing that wouldn’t benefit the house. But why choose a student when the world was full of experts? What was going on?

‘It’s all settled,’ the chairman informed her briskly. ‘Don Tebaldi will accept no one else but you, so you will be travelling to Sicily at the same time as the Emperor’s Diamond, and when you get there you will catalogue his collection, and arrange an exhibition for him.’

This did not go down well around the boardroom table, Jen noticed. And who could be surprised when some of the leading experts in the world were seated next to her?

‘Yes, I found it surprising too,’ the chairman admitted, removing his spectacles to pinch the bridge of his nose. ‘But then I remembered that Jennifer has a second job at the casino, and I wondered if she might have met one of the members of the Tebaldi family there...?’

Jen’s cheeks reddened as everyone turned to look at her. ‘I might have done,’ she admitted.

‘Well, I can’t complain about your work here, so I can only hope you won’t let Smithers & Worseley down.’

She was certainly a dab hand at making sure the lid was on the biscuit tin. Now she had to hope that the ideas that had won her the top prize at college would translate into something to please a client.

‘This shouldn’t be a problem for you, should it?’ the chairman pressed, raising a bristly silver brow.

He didn’t really care who went, Jen deduced. The chairman was only interested in the kudos of a member of his staff entering the secret world of Don Tebaldi. The chance to hear a first-hand account of treasures that had been locked away for years had blinded him to everything else. Whether he was suspicious or not over this unlikely train of events, he had decided that Jen would be the sacrificial lamb.

As for her own suspicions? Keep thinking about that glowing entry on your CV, Jen instructed herself firmly.

‘I’d be happy to catalogue Don Tebaldi’s collection, and organise an exhibition for him.’ She had plenty of experience of organising things and people since her parents’ death. Too much experience, probably, and even she couldn’t deny that she was the top student in her year.

‘Good. Well, that’s settled, then,’ the chairman said with satisfaction. ‘You’re fast becoming indispensable to us, Jennifer,’ he added with a self-satisfied smile at a job well done. ‘Think of it as a free holiday,’ he added magnanimously. ‘It can be your bonus for the year.’

That didn’t mean she’d get a pay rise. She’d still be catching a bus to work twenty years from now, while the members of the board would still be chauffeured to work in their Bentleys.

‘You will meet with Signor Luca Tebaldi at three, here in this office,’ the chairman added.

So soon?

Jen didn’t hear much else for the rest of the meeting. She would have liked more time to prepare. Raoul disappearing, and now the sale of a valuable and notorious stone to the man who turned out to be his father—and Raoul’s brother buying time with Jen at the club? Was she supposed to believe it was all coincidence?

‘Jennifer?’ the chairman said sharply. ‘Are you listening to me? I was just saying that Signor Tebaldi expects to view his father’s latest purchase, following which he will arrange transport details for both the Emperor’s Diamond, and for you. This is a great opportunity for you, Jennifer,’ he finished, shaking his head at her apparent lack of interest as he settled back.

‘Absolutely,’ she said, sitting up. ‘And thank you so much for the opportunity.’ At least she’d have chance to get to the bottom of this mystery.

For Lyddie, Jen thought, shooting her professional smile around the table.

Lyddie had only recently started her career as a model when she was killed two years ago. She had insisted on cycling everywhere in London, saying it was the easiest way to get around. At least Lyddie had got the chance to wear the jewels she had loved so much, having landed an endorsement for an exclusive jewellery house. She’d been on her way to model the next season’s collection of diamonds when she was knocked off her bike. Jen would do this work in memory of those she’d lost, and make it a fitting tribute to the sister and the parents she had adored. She smiled, remembering Lyddie had never been able to pass a jeweller’s window without squeaking with excitement when she spotted some rare stone their mother had described to them. The sparkling gems had become a bond between them when their mother died, reminding them of story time, and the three of them safe, and sitting close together.

‘I will inform your college and ask for leave of absence, so you’ve nothing to worry about—especially not with the summer holidays fast approaching,’ the chairman told her. ‘Just one more thing,’ he added, avoiding Jen’s gaze. ‘We must be sure to welcome Signor Luca Tebaldi with the utmost hospitality.’

Jen frowned at this comment. The utmost hospitality seemed to imply more than simply hand-carrying a precious stone to Sicily. She would be professional and polite, and that was all. If the chairman expected anything more of her, perhaps to drum up future business, he was destined to be disappointed.

‘Signor Luca Tebaldi’s father has been an outstanding contributor to our profits,’ the chairman continued, confirming Jen’s fears with a meaningful look. ‘We can only hope his son will become an equally valuable client in the future.’

Jen stared around the boardroom table as talk turned to what could possibly tempt the Tebaldi family to spend even more in future sales. Rare stones were just that, the board members lamented: rare.

A prescient shiver ran across Jen’s shoulders as she tried to persuade herself that exchanging a draughty bedsit for a trip to sunny Sicily was a great option, and that it would honour Lyddie’s memory in the best way possible. But nothing was ever that simple, and this trip was full of uncertainty.

‘Do you know the history of the Emperor’s Diamond?’ the chairman probed, tapping his pen on the desk as he looked at her.

At last, something she could be sure about. ‘As it happens, I do,’ she confirmed. She always took an interest in the rare stones that came through the auction house, and her studies had allowed her to spend time researching them thoroughly. ‘It was once posted in a plain brown paper envelope, and yet it still reached its destination safely. I’m sure my trip to Sicily will be equally uneventful,’ she said, reassuring everyone around the table, but herself.

I am that plain brown envelope, Jen thought as the chairman acknowledged her remarks with a thin smile.

* * *

Melvyn Worseley Esquire, aka the Chairman, took Jen aside later that day. With the Emperor’s Diamond valued at a conservative thirty-five million, he said it was important to get everything just right. Jen couldn’t have agreed more, and was glad she had confidence in her own abilities. If there was one thing she was good at, it was lighting and setting. Creating the elusive wow factor was what had won her the prize at college, the Vice Chancellor had told her when he’d handed her the prize.

‘Perhaps you might want to freshen up and put on some make-up before Luca Tebaldi arrives?’

She looked sideways at the chairman. There was that subtle, or not so subtle, hint again. She would freshen up, but sluicing her face with cold water would be enough. This wasn’t a beauty pageant. It was a client coming to inspect a precious stone.

There was no chance of the elusive wow factor where Jen was concerned, Jen conceded with amusement as she smoothed her long red hair and checked her ponytail was in place. Pulling away from the sink in the ladies’ room, she returned to the boardroom where the chairman was waiting for her.

‘If you’re short of cash,’ he observed, viewing her thrift-shop outfit with dismay, ‘I’m sure we can allow you a small amount of expenses. Creating a good first impression is paramount, don’t you think?’ he pressed, staring keenly at Jen over his gold-rimmed glasses.

She was suitably dressed for work, Jen thought, in a mouse-grey knee-length suit and white blouse. Admittedly, the blouse had been washed so many times the fabric was practically threadbare, but if she fastened the jacket...

The chairman lifted the velvet case containing the precious gemstone and, with maximum drama, he flipped the lid. Even Jen gasped. It was as if the diamond’s luminance, having been contained within a dark box for so long, leapt out at them in a stunning display of rainbow light. She knew the physics was the other way around, and that without the light the stone was nothing, but at that moment, far from being cursed, the Emperor’s Diamond seemed to contain some magical force. She had to remind herself that she didn’t believe in things like that.

‘I’m sure you will do a fine job displaying this,’ the chairman said as Jen came towards him, drawn closer by the magnificent gemstone.

As she studied it Jen thought the diamond so beautiful she couldn’t think of it bringing anything but good luck. It would never be locked away again, if she could help it. She remembered her mother saying that exceptional gems should be displayed to the public, and enjoyed by as many people as possible.

‘Isn’t it a remarkable gem?’ the chairman murmured, obviously equally awestruck as they stood side by side, briefly joined in admiration of one of nature’s wonders.

‘And the ceiling hasn’t fallen in yet,’ Jen murmured tongue in cheek.

‘Not yet,’ the chairman agreed as they shared a rare smile.

Somewhere in the Victorian building, a door must have opened. Jen shivered as if a breeze had blown in. ‘The wind of change,’ she joked, trying to hide her apprehension as she took a step back from the so-called cursed stone.

The chairman had barely had time to put the diamond away when the door swung open and his guest strode in. Luca Tebaldi somehow managed to look even more impressive in daylight than he had at the club. He was taller, darker, and far more dangerous-looking than Jen remembered. Her heart thumped wildly as his stare lingered on her face. Why this intense interest? She was hardly one of nature’s wonders. She was more run of the mill. And yes, they were having dinner tonight, but this appointment was for him to view the fabulously valuable stone his father had just purchased, so shouldn’t he be concentrating on that?

‘Signor Tebaldi,’ the chairman gushed, moving past Jen to greet his guest.

Wearing a dark, beautifully tailored lightweight wool suit and a crisp white shirt, garnished with a grey silk tie, and with sapphires glittering tastefully at his wrists, Luca Tebaldi looked every bit the billionaire connoisseur. She could see why the chairman hoped Luca Tebaldi would become as lucrative a source of income to the auction house as his father before him. She watched as the two men exchanged a firm handshake, but once that was done Luca’s stare switched to Jen.

‘Jennifer Sanderson—the courier you requested,’ the chairman said, introducing her.

Not wanting to seem overwhelmed by their guest, Jen seized the initiative. Stepping forward, she took a firm grip of Luca Tebaldi’s outstretched hand. It was like being plugged into a power socket. She snatched her hand away as the chairman started talking about an upcoming auction for rare stones, but not before sparks had shot up her arm, and far more sensitive parts of her body were responding with even more enthusiasm. This was crazy. She didn’t even know him. She didn’t have to know him to feel that primitive response to a man as blatantly sexual as Luca Tebaldi, Jen reasoned with concern.

He felt the girl’s reaction to him, and could see it in her darkening eyes. Last night she had been dressed in a skimpy and provocative costume, while today she was dressed as if butter wouldn’t melt. Would the real Jennifer Sanderson please stand up?

They stared at each other with naked interest. She was as curious about him as he was about her. What was the connection between the Emperor’s Diamond, Raoul Tebaldi, and Luca? she had to be thinking. She was smart. It wouldn’t take her long to come up with some answers, though they might be wrong. He would keep her guessing until they got to Sicily.

Nothing was simple. He admired her, and he hadn’t expected that. He had enjoyed her performance at the club. She’d given generously of her time and talent—such as it was. And she’d stood up to him afterwards. He was intrigued to find out how she’d react to the next part of her journey.

The chairman was saying something about another auction Luca might like to attend. He shut the man’s voice out, preferring to concentrate all his attention on the intriguing Ms Sanderson. Why did he find her so attractive? She wasn’t conventionally beautiful, and she certainly wasn’t as showy or as successful as many of the women he knew. And she definitely wasn’t biddable, as women of his acquaintance tended to be, for fear of losing his favour. She was challenging and spiky and unpredictable. And he found her utterly fascinating. Her strange mix of caution and boldness had him in its grip. To inflame him even more, just one of her glances was enough to tell him that it was immaterial to her whether he approved of her or not. She might be moneyless and powerless, but her spirit was strong. So what did she know about his brother’s will? And what would it take for her to relinquish her hold on Raoul’s estate?

He barely glanced at the precious stone when the chairman held it up for his approval. He was far more interested in Jennifer Sanderson’s face and trying to fathom what was behind that steady green gaze. Was it duplicity, innocence, professional interest, or something more?

‘If you’ll excuse me,’ the chairman said, distracting him, ‘I’m afraid I must leave you now. Another appointment,’ he explained with a brief professional smile. ‘I’ll leave you in Ms Sanderson’s capable hands.’

He raised a brow and the girl did too, he noticed. She had no interest in being a bonus to the deal, and her employer should have more sense than to suggest it.

‘Jennifer has my blessing to offer you any assistance you might need,’ the chairman added with an oily smile, adding to his damnation in Luca’s eyes. Luca’s only response was a brief nod of his head.

Jen tensed as the door closed behind the chairman, leaving her alone with Luca Tebaldi. ‘So you’re Raoul’s brother,’ she said. ‘I thought so last night. I haven’t seen Raoul for ages. I hope he’s well?’

‘My brother’s dead.’

‘Oh—’ Jen’s hand shot to her mouth. She was beyond shocked. She couldn’t believe he’d just blurted it out. Was Luca Tebaldi’s emotionless statement to hide his grief, or to test her?

‘He was killed a short time ago,’ Raoul’s brother revealed.

‘Killed?’ Jen repeated numbly. A chill gripped her. She couldn’t take it in. She gripped the back of a chair. There were no words. She was devastated. ‘Did he...?’

‘Did he suffer? Not as far as I’m aware. He was killed instantly in a head-on crash in Rome.’

‘I’m so sorry.’

Poor, vulnerable Raoul was dead. It didn’t seem possible. Her memories of Luca’s brother were so clear. She knew Raoul had led a complicated life, but she had never imagined it would come to this.

‘I should have known. I used to see him every night. I knew he was fragile, but—we used to talk,’ she explained as Luca stared at her.

‘Shall I get you a glass of water?’ he enquired.

She couldn’t speak, she could only gesture with her hands. She was still reeling at the thought that she would never see Raoul again.

‘You met my brother in the casino?’ Luca said as he poured her a glass of water.

‘Yes. I never saw him anywhere else. We were acquaintances who become friends, I suppose, but Raoul had his own life, and I had mine.’

‘What did you find to talk about?’

He handed her the glass. ‘Anything and everything,’ Jen said honestly, sipping the water. Another young life needlessly lost. Memories of the terrible day when Lyddie had been killed came flooding back. The police had been so kind to Jen, rushing her to the high-dependency unit of the local hospital with their sirens wailing where she’d found Lyddie still breathing. Still alive! Jen had thought, wanting to believe in miracles. Yes, the doctor had confirmed, her sister was still living, but her brain dead, he’d explained gently. Head injuries, he’d said when Jen had stared at him blankly. Irrecoverable brain damage, he’d said, before asking if she would consider donating Lyddie’s organs. Up to then she had fooled herself that Lyddie was asleep and would soon wake up. There hadn’t been a mark on her sister, just a small white bandage taped to her forehead. Jen could spend as long as she liked with Lyddie, the doctor had told her—but not too long, was the unspoken text, because decisions would have to be made—

‘Ms Sanderson?’

‘Sorry—’ She turned to focus on Luca. He was so like Raoul, though a bigger, stronger version, as if he was the positive imagine and Raoul was the negative. ‘I’m sorry. I keep wandering off in my mind. I’m just so shocked to hear about your brother.’

‘Raoul confided in you?’ Luca pressed.

‘We used to talk,’ Jen confirmed. Raoul had opened up about a lot of things, but she prided herself on her discretion.

‘Did you talk every night?’

‘What is this?’ she challenged lightly. ‘I knew your brother, and I liked him very much. We discussed a lot of things.’ She stopped and pressed her lips together, hoping Raoul’s brother would take the hint.

‘I apologise if I seem intrusive,’ he said. ‘I’m just trying to fill in the gaps.’

‘I understand your sense of loss. I’ve been through something similar.’





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