The Flaw In Raffaele's Revenge

‘If you hired me to break the law, think again, Signor Petri. I won’t do that for any client.’ She sprang to her feet and paced away.

That was better. At last he read something definite in Lily Nolan. Not just anger but indignation and surely a little fear?

He didn’t want to scare her. But she’d sparred with him for so long he’d begun to wonder what it would take to probe past her control. Even when she was angry she’d been coolly poised, a challenge, a mystery he couldn’t resist prodding.

Not now. Now Raffa saw the woman behind the mask of calm self-sufficiency.

What he saw heightened his interest.

Lily Nolan’s eyes flashed fire as she turned to face him. Her lips moved in what he was sure was an unconscious pout of defiance. A pout any red-blooded man would respond to.

Except he was her boss.

He never harassed his staff.

Besides, he wasn’t into kissing. He’d perfected the art from necessity but never really enjoyed it. It was a tool like any other to get what he wanted.

Raffa stilled, surprised at his blurring thoughts. He didn’t want to kiss Lily Nolan. The idea was farcical.

He wanted to understand her. Label and catalogue her so she no longer took up even a scintilla of his brain space. Then he’d move on to more important things.

Yet now he’d provoked a reaction he wanted more. Contempt welled. Had he turned into what he’d always abhorred? A wealthy man so self-absorbed his only delight was toying with others?

‘You have scruples, Ms Nolan.’

She strode back to stand close, hands on her hips.

‘There are lines I won’t cross, Signor Petri. Breaking the law is one.’

Spoken like a woman who’d never experienced real need. Raffa’s mouth tightened. He knew precisely the depths to which poverty and desperation could drive people.

Or was that the excuse he used to justify his past?

‘Not even for money?’

Those eyes weren’t muddy brown now. They looked almost pure amber, rimmed with honey brown, and they met his with quiet certainty. ‘Not even for money.’

Slowly he nodded. ‘Good. Then presumably you can’t be bought by a competitor to betray confidential information.’

A furrow appeared on her forehead. ‘Was all this some elaborate test of my honesty?’

Raffa shrugged. Easier to let her believe his interest was so straightforward than try to explain something he didn’t understand himself.

If her report was insufficient, he’d have to ignore his prejudice and hire a detective. At least now he wouldn’t be sucked in by nebulous ‘promising leads’ that required just a little more time to produce results.

Years ago, when he’d begun making decent money, he’d spent lavishly on fruitless investigations. Older than his years in most ways, his desperation to find the man responsible for his sister’s death had made him gullible in this one area.

Now he knew better. He didn’t trust investigators.

He didn’t trust anyone.

Raffa pushed his chair back and stood. ‘We’ll meet when you’ve completed your initial report.’

By that time this fascination would have worn off. She’d be just another employee.

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_6b3b2ee9-f0e1-5728-8e4e-9fd8893f4ed6)

THERE WAS NO SOUND, no disturbance, but suddenly Lily knew she was no longer alone.

Her spine tingled from her scalp to her tailbone. Her skin drew tight and she realised she’d frozen, fingers on the keyboard, waiting.

Slowly she lifted her head.

There he was, one shoulder propped against the doorjamb, legs casually crossed at the ankles. The only man whose presence she could sense with unerring accuracy.

Every time.

Even before he looked at her.

Even when he never looked at her.

It was a sixth sense, something primitive, buried so deep in her animal instinct as to be inexplicable. Yet it happened whenever Raffaele Petri got near. Lily was always the first to notice his presence. Her senses were on alert when he was nearby, even if he wasn’t talking to her.

Now he watched her with a heavy-lidded look that made her blood surge.

She’d thought him stunning in the casual trousers and jackets he wore in the office. But in formal clothes... Her eyes widened. He looked like some sinfully gorgeous fallen angel wearing a tuxedo and a lazy half smile. The bow tie loose around his collar added a decadently raffish air.

‘Working late again?’

Lily nodded and cleared her throat. Ridiculous that he had this effect after more than a month, but there was no mistaking the excited pump of her heart or that sudden breathlessness.

It did no good to tell herself millions of other women had the same reaction. Or that she made a fool of herself. All she could do was ensure no one, most especially the man before her, guessed.

‘But obviously not to impress the boss.’ He crossed his arms but Lily kept her eyes on his face, refusing to dwell on the way the gesture emphasised the impressive symmetry of his broad-shouldered, slim-hipped frame.

‘You think not?’ Her voice worked after all.

What she’d give for an interruption! These days other members of staff were in and out of her office regularly. To her surprise, after their initial shock they’d accepted her as one of the team—so different from her other work experiences. Maybe because she’d been so focused on this project she hadn’t had the leisure to stress about their reactions?

Yet a frantic glance through the glass walls told her they were alone. Everyone had gone home long ago.

‘I know not.’ He straightened and, to her alarm, stepped into her office.

‘You’re a mind-reader now too?’ The words blurted out.

‘In addition to what?’ He stopped a couple of paces from her desk, sucking all the oxygen out of her office. ‘No, don’t tell me. I’ll enjoy the challenge of working it out.’

Lily sat back, letting her hands drop to her lap. His words were light, as if he viewed their interactions as some sort of game.