Blackmailed Bride, Innocent Wife

Alissa’s heart beat fast at the idea of living with Dario Parisi. Could she survive six months with this man who looked at her with such condemnation, but whose touch turned her inside out?

‘But it means living together.’

He watched her speculatively. ‘That bothers you? Living with me?’ If she weren’t so keyed up Alissa would be insulted by his surprise. As if trusting herself to the care of a stranger was no big deal. What did he think she was? A tart as well as a drug addict?

‘I knew Jason. I could trust him.’ That seemed stupid since he’d duped her, but she’d known they’d be platonic flatmates and no more.

‘Ah.’ The syllable stretched out, like her nerves. ‘You want assurance your abundant charms won’t incite me to seduce you.’ His gaze dipped to her jacket buttons and searing heat coiled in her stomach.

Alissa kept her mouth firmly shut against the protest that she’d never let a man like him seduce her.

‘You have my word as a Parisi. I would never force a woman. Besides—’ his lips curved in a half-smile that held no humour ‘—your type is not to my taste.’

Her type. Her type!

‘I understand completely.’ Alissa pasted on a saccharine smile, despite the protest of muscles taut with horror. ‘I can’t think of a man less appealing than you.’

It was minuscule compensation to see him taken aback by her statement. But, boy, it felt good.

Just as well he couldn’t know she lied. Dario Parisi didn’t appeal. But maybe with a personality transplant…that strong, lean body, the mobile, sensuous mouth and well-shaped hands…he was the sexiest man she’d ever seen. Fate didn’t play fair.

‘Excellent,’ Dario murmured, thrusting aside annoyance at her insult. ‘Then there will be no complications.’

He’d get what he wanted and dump Alissa Scott like lightning. Tying himself to a woman tainted not just by her Mangano blood but also by self-indulgence, avarice and low personal standards appalled him.

After the castello was safe he’d find the perfect wife. That Signora Parisi would be elegant, refined, sweet-tempered. Not a sharp-tongued virago who challenged with every stare, sidetracked his thoughts and stirred his hormones at inconvenient times.

They’d raise a houseful of bambini. He’d possess everything he’d dreamt of in the days when he had nothing but pride and determination. He remembered how it felt to be hungry and alone. Never again.

He’d have it all. Respect, wealth, power, the birthright he’d been denied. And a family of his own, flesh of his flesh.

Yet Alissa’s jibe rankled. His looks and vast wealth made him irresistible to most women. She was no different. He’d seen the flare of awareness in her wide blue eyes.

Despite his strict code of honour that tempered the drive to succeed, he’d been accused of many things as he forged his way to the top of the corporate heap. Usually by unsuccessful competitors or journalists whose stock-in-trade was exaggeration. Why did her insult needle him like a splinter embedded deep?

‘We know where we stand. Si? There will be no misunderstandings.’

The last thing he wanted was for her to try her feminine wiles on him. He had no patience with importunate women, even if they radiated sexual allure like this one. There was dynamite in the sway of her hips, her lush mouth and in the feminine curves her cheap suit couldn’t hide.

Yet her huge, shadowed eyes looked vulnerable.

Nonsense. She was a calculating little piece. She’d deliberately stymied his chances to regain the estate, once when her grandfather proposed a merger and again after his death. She’d gone to great lengths to thwart Dario and keep the estate to herself and her weak-chinned boyfriend.

He had to remember Alissa Scott was his enemy.

No misunderstandings. Could she trust his word?

He despised her, so he couldn’t want her. Could he? What about the sizzle of masculine speculation in his eyes? To her relatively inexperienced eye that looked like the stare of a man who was all too interested.

Was it possible his archaic ideas about family vendettas meant he wanted retribution? The personal satisfaction of seducing a woman he saw as his enemy?

No! Her imagination was out of control.

Alissa squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could open them to discover this was a dream.

‘Alissa?’

No one else said her name like that. A rumbling purr that made it sound interesting…seductive. That made her nape prickle and her breasts tighten.

Reluctantly she opened her eyes. Dario Parisi watched her with the attention a scientist gave a newly discovered species, missing nothing.

‘A business arrangement.’ She forced the words out.

He nodded.

‘I suppose you’ve thought about where we’d live?’

‘Naturally you’ll come to Sicily. My home is there.’

‘Naturally.’ She doubted he noticed her sarcasm. It wouldn’t occur to him that she had reasons to stay in Australia. A job, a home, a sister she loved and feared for. ‘I’d have to give up my job.’

Grey eyes held hers. ‘In six months you’ll have enough money not to need a job.’

What would he say if she told him she loved her work? Enjoyed helping people plan their holidays? Had a flair for dealing with even the most hard-to-please clients?

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except saving Donna. Even if it meant spending six months under the same roof as a condescending, manipulative Sicilian male.

Been there. Done that. Survived.

She looked at the paper between them. The details had been completed, even hers. He was frighteningly thorough.

Could she really be planning to agree? Shock held her rigid as she absorbed the enormity of what she risked. She was caught fast, she had no choice. But surely Dario was vulnerable too. His obsession with regaining the estate must give her leverage in this unholy bargain.

‘If I agree—’ she met his stare without blinking ‘—I want an advance. A third of the castello’s value on the day we marry.’ Her heart thundered. The money meant nothing to him. He had plenty. To her it meant immediate treatment for Donna. The specialists said she had time, could wait, but this way there’d be no delay.

‘Well?’ Alissa lifted her chin, her palms growing damp. ‘Your bankers could arrange it easily.’

‘No doubt they could.’ He left the sentence hang till her nerves shredded to tatters. ‘You’ve inherited your grandfather’s instinct for screwing cash out of people.’ The deadly chill in his tone thrust her back in her chair.

His glare now was pure threat. Pure hatred. Each clipped word a shard of ice on her unprotected skin.

‘Very clever, Alissa. You know I want the castello. I’ll even marry you to get it.’ His emphasis on the word made her feel like something that had scuttled from under a rock. ‘But there I draw the line. I won’t be manipulated any further by your family. Every man has his limit and I’ve reached mine. You Manganos have pushed me as far as I’m willing to go.’ He leaned across and held her captive with a coruscating look.

‘If you want any more you can whistle for it. I might be constrained by the terms of the will, but so are you, fidanzatinamia.’ His lips curled in a smile that chilled her blood. ‘This is the only deal on the table. If you want more, find some other man.’

Alissa shuddered. A lifetime’s memories of fear and vulnerability flooded back as she met his merciless gaze. He had the upper hand because he was powerful and rich. Even if he had to wait for years and expend a fortune, he’d find a way to get the estate in the end.

She had no other options.