The Flaw In Raffaele's Revenge

‘That’s not enough.’

‘Sorry?’ What more could he want than her best?

‘I’m starting a significant project.’ He paused. ‘I need my team on hand and bound by the utmost confidentiality.’

Lily stiffened. ‘I hope you’re not implying I’m a security risk. Every contract I accept is completed in strictest confidence. I safeguard my research and my clients.’ She never shared details of clients without permission. Which was why it would have been a coup to have a testimonial from him on her website.

She’d begun as a researcher for a private enquiry firm but the cases got her down. She’d found her niche when she widened her horizons—from staff checks to analyses of businesses and commercial trends. Lately it had been the viability of new ventures or businesses ripe for takeover.

That was where Raffaele Petri came in. The man was like a shark scenting blood before his competitors. Every time she investigated a business for him she’d discovered vulnerabilities and problems. It was the magic of the man that, once he acquired them, he turned those businesses into some of the most successful in the leisure industry, from a glamorous resort in Tahiti to a marina and yacht-building company in Turkey.

‘If I doubted your ability to keep a secret I wouldn’t hire you.’

Lily released a breath, relief rising.

‘But,’ he added, ‘I can’t afford risks. This team will be the best of the best. And it will be in New York. I need you here.’

Pride swelled. Lily had never been needed. Never stood out. Looks, school grades, sport, she’d always been average, never in the limelight until—

Lily shook her head in self-disgust at that old neediness. It was a spill over from her teenage years when she’d felt no one really wanted her, that to her family she was only a burden and a worry. And to her friends an embarrassing, constant reminder of a disaster they’d rather forget. She’d hated that awareness of being included out of duty rather than because her peers wanted her around.

His words made her long to say, Yes, of course, I’ll be in New York tomorrow.

Imagine exploring the Big Apple. Imagine...

She swallowed hard. It wasn’t possible. Facing the curious eyes of all those strangers, seeing them stare in fascination or hurriedly turn away. She wouldn’t put herself through that anymore.

‘I’m used to working with your staff from a distance. I’m sure—’

‘That’s not the way this project will proceed, Ms Nolan.’ His words were staccato, tiny darts pricking her skin. ‘I won’t tolerate failure on this one.’

Lily opened her mouth to say that if his project failed it wouldn’t be down to her.

‘Yes, Ms Nolan? You were saying?’

‘I’m sorry I can’t accommodate you, Signor Petri.’

‘I’ll double the salary. And the bonus on completion.’

Lily’s eyes widened. She’d been curious enough to check the contract and the salary had staggered her. It was more than she’d earn in two years. The thought of four years’ income in one hit was so tempting. It would solve her financial worries...

‘Changing your tune, Ms Nolan? I thought you might.’ That voice was smug now, making her want to hiss her displeasure. At him for thinking she could be bought? Or at herself for being tempted despite knowing it couldn’t happen?

Part of her still hankered after adventure, travel, excitement. But she’d had to push those dreams aside when her life had derailed at fourteen. She’d been robbed of her best friend, her carefree youth, her ‘normal’ life. She’d even missed out on things everyone else took for granted like flirting with boys and dating.

She shook her head, long tresses slipping over her cheeks. Curse the man for stirring longings she’d put behind her years before.

She loved her home, was proud she’d saved enough to be buying it. But it was more than that. Lily needed the security and peace it provided. The sense of refuge.

‘No, Signor Petri. That was the sound of surprise but not agreement.’

‘Interesting, Ms Nolan. Most people would jump at this opportunity. Why aren’t you? A family, is that it? You have a husband and children perhaps?’

‘No! I don’t—’ Lily clamped her lips shut before she blurted out anything else. Instinctively she felt safer keeping her private life private from this man.

‘No family? I thought you sounded a little young for one.’

Lily’s eyebrows arched. At twenty-eight she wasn’t so young. Or was he implying she didn’t sound professional?

Or maybe he’s just winding you up. This man enjoyed playing with her, like a cat with a trapped mouse.

Like a bully wielding his superior power.

Lily’s chin shot up. ‘I suppose age becomes important when one reaches...mature years.’

A little huff of sound reached her over the long distance. A gasp of irritation or, could it be, stifled laughter?

She shouldn’t have said it. The veiled reference to his age, five years her senior, was indiscreet and possibly ruinous. But she refused to sit like a pincushion to be needled.

‘Fortunately I’m not quite in my dotage, Ms Nolan.’

No, he wasn’t. She kept seeing photos of him at glamorous functions. Always with a sophisticated woman on his arm, but never the same one.

‘So if you don’t have a family to tie you there it must be a lover.’ His voice dipped low, like dark treacle rolling through her veins to eddy in her belly. Lily drew her knees up, pressing them to her chest, trying to kill the unsettling sensation.

‘My private life is no concern of yours, Signor Petri.’ Did he hear the wobble of fury in her voice?

‘But it is, Ms Nolan, when it comes between me and what I want.’

‘Then it’s time you discovered you can’t always get what you want.’ The words poured out. ‘I decide when and where I sell my services.’

Lily scrubbed a shaky hand over her face, her chest heaving. This was going from bad to worse. Anger and anxiety curdled her insides. And self-disgust. She needed to stay calm, no matter what the provocation.

‘I assume you don’t normally speak to your clients in that suggestively sexy voice.’ His own voice was far too sultry. ‘It would give them the wrong idea about what services you sell.’

Lily almost dropped the phone.

Suggestively sexy?

He had to be kidding! No man had ever called her sexy.

Of course he’s kidding. He’s playing with you, searching for your weak spots.

And finding them!

Curiously, the realisation calmed her, despite the burn of annoyance.

‘There are reasons I can’t work for you in New York, Signor Petri, but—’