At The Sicilian Count's Command

‘I’m sure he doesn’t need you to intercede on his behalf!’

‘Stephen doesn’t seem to see you in the way that I do,’ Wolf grated harshly.

She raised one dark, mocking brow. ‘And just how is that, Count Gambrelli?’

Wolf’s jaw clenched, his frustration with this situation growing. Having spent most of the night thinking of this woman, imagining her naked and wanton in another man’s arms, he should never have come in here when he saw her alone in the pool—certainly should never have begun this present conversation.

He was making his own attraction to Angelica far too obvious.

And that wasn’t a situation that sat comfortably on his usually self-assured, emotionally self-contained shoulders!

‘Admittedly you seem cleverer than most, by keeping your apartment and your job, and maintaining your independence,’ Wolf admitted. ‘But as that only seems to have made Stephen even more besotted with you, I have no doubt that he will very soon insist that you change that arrangement!’

‘Really?’ Angelica Harper came back derisively. ‘Thank you for sharing that information with me, Count Gambrelli.’ She gave a sharp inclination of her head. ‘Now, if you will excuse me…? I find the air in here rather—oppressive!’

Wolf wanted to reach out and stop her from leaving. Wanted to grasp both her arms and shake her. Wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her until she agreed to leave Stephen and come to him…!

This realisation was shocking, totally at odds with his usual casual and unpossessive attitude towards women, and all he could do was stand and watch as Angelica walked away from him.

No doubt with the intention of telling her ‘besotted’ lover exactly how he had just insulted her!

Which meant not only had he made his own interest in Angelica obvious, but he had also probably just completely ruined a friendship and business partnership that had existed for years.

But there was no evidence that Angelica had mentioned the incident to Stephen when the three of them sat down to breakfast together an hour later, the older man seeming just as friendly and relaxed as he always was.

Angelica’s behaviour towards Wolf was a little frosty—understandably so!—but other than that she gave no indication that their conversation in the poolhouse had ever taken place.

Wolf studied her covertly: her long, silky hair had been washed and dried and pulled back in a ponytail, emphasising her high cheekbones and the delicate line of her jaw. Her only make-up appeared to be a lipgloss that matched the colour of the red tee shirt she wore with faded fitted denims, the swell of her breasts temptingly visible above its low neckline…

‘Would you go riding with Angel this morning, Wolf?’

His attention had been so intently focused on Angelica, on those tantalising glimpses of her creamy breasts, that for a moment Wolf found himself completely disorientated, frowning darkly as he turned to Stephen. ‘Sorry?’ he responded distantly.

Stephen raised silver-grey brows at Wolf’s obvious distraction. ‘I was suggesting you might like to go for a ride with Angel…?’

That was what he had thought the other man had said! Except he now realised Stephen had been talking about horses…!

The line Wolf’s thoughts had been following had taken him in another direction entirely!

‘Stephen, I really don’t think—’

‘Oh, come on, Angel.’ The older man cut chidingly through her protest. ‘Unfortunately I have a conference call to deal with this morning, and you know I don’t like you going out alone just yet. Angel has only just learnt to ride,’ he explained to Wolf.

But Wolf Gambrelli was the last person Angelica wanted to accompany her anywhere!

A fact Stephen should have been all too aware of after the conversation they’d had before breakfast, when she’d told him that she believed he ought to explain their real relationship to Wolf—that the Sicilan seemed somewhat confused as to her role in Stephen’s life.

She could have put it more bluntly than that, but was aware that Wolf Gambrelli had been a close friend of Stephen’s for years—that it wasn’t up to her to cast a shadow over that friendship. Stephen had assured her that he had every intention of talking to Wolf about their relationship this weekend. Just not yet, it seemed…

‘I’m sure Count Gambrelli has better things to do this morning than go riding with me.’ She spoke determinedly even as she shot Stephen an appealing glance, not sure she could take any more of Wolf Gambrelli’s insulting remarks without retaliating.

Because if she really had been Stephen’s latest mistress, then she would have lost no time in telling Wolf Gambrelli exactly what he could do with his very personal remarks!

The one thing she had absolutely insisted on when she’d agreed to spend time with Stephen, so that the two of them could get to know each other better, was that she didn’t want anything from him. Not the help with her career that he’d offered, or the money he had wanted to settle on her.

But she would have felt exactly the same way if she had been Stephen’s mistress rather than his daughter!

‘You don’t have anything else to do this morning, do you, Wolf?’ Stephen asked.

Something didn’t add up here, Wolf decided. For one thing, Stephen didn’t seem in the least concerned at the thought of Wolf going off for the morning with Angelica. Obviously Stephen knew him well enough to know of his code concerning attached women, but even so the other man was putting a lot of trust in him…

And Wolf still couldn’t work out why Angelica hadn’t told her lover about his earlier rudeness to her. It had been the obvious thing for her to do, after all.

‘Why not?’ he accepted languidly. ‘I’m sure I would greatly enjoy riding with Angel,’ he added softly, and he saw the delicate colour creep into Angelica’s alabaster cheeks at his deliberately provocative reply.

‘Great!’ Stephen nodded his satisfaction with the arrangement, seeming totally unaware of the undercurrents in the conversation. ‘I’ll feel much happier knowing Angel is in safe hands.’

Wolf wouldn’t have felt so quite so pleased about the arrangement if he were Stephen—not when Wolf’s own feelings towards Angelica Harper were far from innocent.

And, more disturbing, far from under his normally rigid control…!

CHAPTER THREE

WOLF felt even less confident about maintaining that control when he joined Angelica down at the stables half an hour later. The figure-hugging jodhpurs she wore left little to the imagination. Even her billowing white shirt, which was tucked into the narrow waistband of those jodhpurs, tantalized—hinting at, rather than hiding, the firm uptilt of her unconfined breasts beneath.

‘I hope you aren’t expecting too much of me, Count Gambrelli,’ she told him ruefully.

Wolf lifted his gaze sharply from the allure of her unfettered breasts, knowing by the way her brows had risen in query that she was aware of his heated appraisal.

‘I really am just a novice at this,’ she confided, even as the stable-lad cupped his hands so that she could swing herself up onto the back of the placid black mare that had been saddled for her.

He’d been caught staring like an untried youth, Wolf acknowledged self-disgustedly. What a gauche, unsophisticated fool she made of him!

‘All evidence to the contrary—Angel!’ he flung back at her as he took the reins of a dapple-grey mount from another stable-lad to swing himself easily up into the saddle.

Angelica realised quickly that what he implied was too explicit to be mistaken for anything other than what it was.

He really was an arrogant bastard, she decided. So damned sure of himself. To the point that she knew she would have no sympathy with him at all once Stephen told him of their true relationship and he was made to look a complete idiot.

In fact, she was so annoyed, so incensed by Wolf Gambrelli’s continued rudeness towards her, that she no longer felt any inclination to prevent him from digging himself even further into that particular hole!

The fact that he looked absolutely magnificent, sitting confidently astride the grey, his hair a burnished gold in the sunlight, his white shirt and a pair of Stephen’s jodhpurs and black riding boots giving him a raffishly compelling appearance that was breathtaking, did nothing to lessen her feelings of resentment.

Wolf Gambrelli was too damned good-looking for his own good, and too cavalier when it came to women. Surely he deserved to be taken down a peg or two!

‘Thanks, Tom.’ She bestowed a grateful smile on the stable-boy as he helped her to put her booted feet into the stirrups. ‘Ready, Count?’ she prompted dryly as he watched the exchange with narrowed eyes.

As if he suspected her of trying to seduce the stable-lad!