Blackmailed Bride, Innocent Wife

The air hissed through Alissa’s teeth as she drew a sharp breath. His face was lean, harsh, arrogant. With his black hair combed back from a widow’s peak he looked impossibly elegant. But his eyes… Alissa reeled as she stared into a charcoal gaze ripe with disapproval.

Heaven help the woman he’d come here to marry.

With those looks—male model meets pure testosterone—his bride was probably too besotted to realise what she was in for. But one moment’s collision with his piercing, censorious gaze told Alissa everything. He had an ego big enough to match those shoes. More, there was danger in his superior look, his air of latent power.

Trouble. That was what he was. Why any woman would shackle herself to a man like that…

‘I’m sorry,’ she muttered when she got her tongue to move. ‘I was in such a hurry to get out of the rain I didn’t see you there.’

Silence.

His brows arrowed down in a V of displeasure.

Alissa lifted a hand to her soaked hair. A dribble of rain slid down her nape. Her suit clung to her breasts, back and legs. Even her toes were damp. She shivered as cold sliced through her.

What was wrong with him? Did he disapprove of the way she looked? Or the fact that she’d run into him?

Uncontrollable, unladylike little hoyden. The words rang so loud and clear Alissa jumped. But it was her grandfather’s hoarse voice she heard. The stranger’s cold gaze had evoked an unexpected memory. The realisation shook her to the core. She must be even more nervous than she’d realised to hear the old man from the grave.

‘Look, I—’

‘Do you usually burst through doors like that? Without looking where you’re going?’ His voice was low, deep, with a husky edge that made her skin prickle, but not with fear or cold this time. It was a bedroom voice, made for seducing women to mindless compliance. A slight accent lengthened the vowels, producing a tantalising drawl. To her annoyance, she felt the zap and tingle of nerves reacting to the masculine timbre of that voice.

‘I didn’t burst anywhere.’ She stood straighter, yanking her arms free. To her chagrin she barely reached his shoulder. Typical! That excess height no doubt added to his belief in his own superiority.

Those frowning brows rose in supercilious disbelief. He’d probably never been caught without an immaculately cut raincoat, or perhaps a lackey hovering with an umbrella.

‘My apologies for interrupting your…reverie. I’ll leave you in peace.’

Alissa spun round and strode away. She felt his glare graze the bare skin of her neck and the sway of her hips as she shortened her stride to accommodate her heels.

But she didn’t mistake his stare for male admiration.

His regard was contemptuous, sharp as a blade. Why, she had no idea. But she had enough experience of disapproving men to recognise his animosity.

Perhaps his fiancée was late and he wasn’t used to waiting so he’d taken out his impatience on her.

Alissa tilted her chin and stepped through a doorway into the corridor she needed. She had a marriage to attend and no time for speculating over strangers.

‘He said what?’ Her voice rose in breathless disbelief. Alissa shook her head, wondering if the soaking had somehow affected her hearing.

The clerk shrugged and spread his hands. ‘That he couldn’t make the appointment.’

The appointment! Alissa stared, numb with shock, hearing the loud thrum of her pulse in the silence. This was hardly an appointment. This was a wedding. Jason’s wedding as well as hers. Was this a joke?

No, not a joke. Jason was as eager for this marriage as she. Well, as eager for the money they’d get when they inherited her grandfather’s Sicilian estate then sold it. He’d jumped at the idea of a convenient wedding with an alacrity that surprised her. His need for cash was greater than she’d first thought.

Surely this was a mistake. Jason must be running late, that was all.

‘What, exactly, did he say?’ she asked through stiff lips.

The clerk darted a speculative glance at her before reading the note in his hand. ‘Mr Donnelly rang thirty minutes ago and said he wouldn’t be able to come. He’d changed his mind.’

Another sharply curious glance accompanied the words. Yet Alissa was beyond feeling embarrassed that her bridegroom had done a runner. The news was too devastating for humiliation even to register. This was disaster on a cataclysmic scale.

She linked her fingers tight together, willing herself to be calm. Her heart thudded out of control as panic edged her thoughts. Her stomach descended into freefall.

She couldn’t afford to fail. The very idea knotted her stomach with dread.

What would she do if Jason really had jilted her?

Alissa had to marry. If within the next thirty-one days she wasn’t Mrs Someone-or-other, married as required by the terms of her grandfather’s will, she could kiss goodbye to the chance of getting Donna to the States for the treatment she needed.

Contesting the will would take too long and her solicitor had warned the outcome of such legal action wasn’t certain. As for getting a loan to cover the astronomical costs…the banks had disabused her of that possibility. There were no other options but to do the one thing she’d vowed she never would—comply with her despised grandfather’s last wishes in order to inherit part of his estate. The old so-and-so would be chortling in hell if he could see the fix she was in now.

She pinned a tight smile to her face and drew a slow, calming breath. ‘Was there anything else?’

‘No.’ The clerk couldn’t hide the inquisitive glimmer in his eyes. ‘That was all.’

‘I see. Thank you.’ But she didn’t see. This made no sense.

She turned away and drew out her cellphone. Punching in Jason’s number with an unsteady hand, she lifted it to her ear, only to hear the infuriating engaged signal. Had something terrible happened or was he avoiding her? It took a moment to realise he could have phoned her instead of the marriage registry. So yes, he was avoiding her.

Alissa put a hand to her brow, flummoxed. What was she going to do? Panic edged her whirling thoughts. She’d go to Jason’s, but she felt an unnerving certainty he wouldn’t be at his flat or anywhere else she looked.

‘Miss Scott?’ The clerk’s voice made her swing round eagerly. Had Jason turned up?

Hope died instantly. There was only the clerk and, with him, the tall stranger from the foyer.

Why was he here? She cast a swift glance at those narrowed eyes and looked away, feeling again that frisson of reaction to his blatant stare. The man made her supremely uncomfortable.

‘Yes?’ She stepped forward, concentrating on the clerk, not the stranger beside him.

‘This gentleman is here to see you.’

‘To see me?’ She forced herself to look up into that beautiful, arrogant face and ignore the tremor of consternation that ran through her.

‘If you are Miss Alissa Scott?’

She nodded. ‘I am.’

‘Affianced to Jason Donnelly?’

‘That’s right.’ Her mouth dried. He had the deliberate, enigmatic tone of a judge pronouncing sentence.

‘Granddaughter of Gianfranco Mangano?’

She nodded jerkily, her lips primming at the mention of her late, unlamented grandfather.