Innocent in the Italian's Possession

He toyed with a pen, and she had the distinct feeling he thoroughly enjoyed baiting his adversaries, especially her. God knew they were on opposite sides.

She was Cesare’s personal secretary and loved her job and her boss. He was estranged from his father and had made no attempt to bridge the breach. Until now, when his papa was incapacitated.

That bald fact instantly put her on the wrong side of Stefano. Was he here to help his papa, or did he have a personal agenda?

“You are a fierce champion of my father,” he said.

“I am simply doing my job.”

“You are doing far more than that.”

She didn’t delude herself into thinking he was handing out a compliment. She simply clung to the hope that he’d decide to hire a temporary secretary and release her to go about Cesare’s business uninterrupted.

“You should know that I’m aware of why you refused to work for your father.”

“And that reason would be?”

She lifted her chin, refusing to be cowed. “Your rivalry with your brother and your refusal to take orders from him.”

He stared at her for one long, uncomfortable moment. “Did my papa tell you that?”

“Most of it,” she said. “The rest I heard shortly after I came to work here.”

“Gossip. Let me tell you the truth.” He slammed across the office, fists clutched at his sides. “My brother’s wife drove me from here.”

This was getting far too personal for her liking. “Really, you don’t have to explain your differences—”

“Before she married my brother, she was my lover. I thought myself in love with her, so I brought her home to meet my parents.” He faced her, and the anger on his face was a terrible thing to witness. “She decided my brother was the better catch as he was the heir to the company. Davide had no compunction about sleeping with her behind my back.”

No wonder he demanded loyalty and honesty from his employees. “That’s why you left Marinetti Shipyard. You couldn’t stand to work with your brother and be around her.”

“That was the deciding reason for me to leave. There were other clashes over designs and management.” His gaze met hers, and the cold finality reflected in their depths made her shiver. “Are you satisfied now?”

Shocked was more like it. “I’m sorry you were betrayed by your brother and lover.”

“I don’t want your pity, Miss Cardone.”

He stared at her a long, uncomfortable moment, the intensity in his eyes searing through her as if branding her. Or perhaps burning her at the stake for dredging up such painful memories.

“May I go now?” she asked.

His chin dipped. “See to this list that you’re determined to complete.”

She turned and hurried to the door, a heartbeat away from escaping him when the deep velvet rumble of his voice ribboned around her and brought her up short.

“Bring me the portfolio when you’re done,” he said. “I wish to review it before handing it over to my accountant.”

It wasn’t so much his words as it was the assurance in his voice that filled her with dread. She turned to face him, only to find him staring at her as if he could swallow her up whole and enjoy every second.

She hiked her chin up, annoyed that she couldn’t stop him from getting to her, that he could make her tremble with anger and an emotion she barely understood. He was certainly bringing out the worst in her!

“Why should your accountant review Cesare’s files when we have one employed who can do the same?” she asked, holding back the burning question of why he needed to see the list in the first place. In her heart she knew it couldn’t be a good reason.

“Simple, Gemma. I am the CEO and owner of Canto Di Mare.”

It took a moment to process that news. When it did, her thoughts tossed between outrage and awe.

“You are the new stockholder of Marinetti?”

He dipped his arrogant head in answer. “Now if you will excuse me, I have work to do. I expect those files before you leave for the day.”

She took that curt dismissal as a godsend and slipped from the room. But peace eluded her.

Stefano wasn’t doing his father a favor by stepping into his shoes now. He had a vested interest in the shipyard. She trembled with annoyance and fear of what this arrogant, domineering and ruthless man intended to do.

Worry stacked on her narrow shoulders like a child’s wooden blocks, weighing her down, each new burden threatening to send the whole toppling around her. The company. Cesare. His love child.

She could certainly imagine Stefano meting out vengeance with great relish. Is that why Cesare had warned her to keep his secret close to her heart? Was he afraid of what his son would do if he learned the truth?

Gemma had only one way of knowing those answers, and she simply couldn’t take the risk. A child’s future was at stake. If Cesare hadn’t made proper provisions for her…Well, then Gemma would have to see to the child’s care herself.

She’d have to mind her own errant thoughts as well regarding one arrogantly handsome Italian who commanded too much of her time and thoughts.

Stefano had controlling interest in Marinetti. She was at the mercy of a man who clearly had none to spare. No matter what, she had to stay in Stefano’s good graces, for too much was at stake if she failed.

Stefano Marinetti watched the tempting secretary flounce from the office and allowed a smile of appreciation. His papa had impeccable taste in women.

Gemma was more tantalizing than most with her thick, wavy hair that was kissed with streaks of blond and her naturally fair skin that had acquired a golden tan. Her wide eyes were the same mysterious blue as the Aegean Sea. Her mouth was a perfect bow that begged a man to kiss her.

Yes, she had an Italian surname, but he would bet she had a good deal of English blood in her. Perhaps she was the daughter of an expatriate who’d come to Italy to find a rich husband. Instead that woman had gotten snared by a fisherman.

Not that Gemma’s heritage made a damned bit of difference to him.

She was still doing all she could to cushion her life. Too bad the little piece of fluff had sunk her claws into his papa when the old man was at his lowest.

He shoved Gemma from his thoughts and rang up the accounting department. By now every one in Marinetti’s employ would know that he’d assumed the reins of the company.

Now it was time to get down to business.

“Buongiorno, Umberto,” Stefano said in greeting as the little man he remembered so well from childhood answered the phone.

“Stefano? Buongiorno,” the man replied warmly, and Stefano smiled, certain the older man would have kissed his cheeks had they met in person. “It is good you are back to manage the company.”

“Sì.” Though he imagined not everyone at Marinetti would share his relief.

His papa’s employees had always been loyal. To a fault? He’d soon find out.

“I am acquainting myself with my father’s recent business dealings and I need your help. Last month, did my father make a substantial withdrawal of company funds?”