Surrendering To The Italian's Command

‘This is a misunderstanding...’ He spoke while moving in a direction that would give him access to the woman now hidden from his view behind Danilo.

Danilo negated his ploy by shadowing the move before allowing his glance to linger on the scratch that was seeping blood on the guy’s cheek. Good for her, he thought approvingly.

‘I don’t think so. Do you want me to call the police?’ he asked the woman without taking his eyes off the other man.

‘I just want to go home.’

The hoarse little whisper had a heartfelt sincerity that didn’t help Danilo’s struggle to resist the impulse to shake the guy until his teeth rattled. Then she sniffed and he almost lost it. Instead he moved to her side.

‘Or a hospital?’

‘She’s fine. Police...?’ The falseness in the laugh grated on Danilo. ‘You’ve got it all wrong, mate. This was just a misunderstanding. You know how it is. Something and nothing—sweetheart.’

In a heartbeat Tess tipped from relief to outright panic. What if this man believed him? What if he left her alone with bonkers Ben?

‘I am not your mate.’

It wasn’t until her rescuer spoke in a voice that held a twenty-below chill that Tess realised she had grabbed his arm in a death grip. His words made her feel better, but just to be sure she didn’t let go; instead she tightened her grip and moved in closer.

‘And to answer your question, no, I do not know how it is to force myself on a woman.’

‘She’s mine...’

Ben’s voice made Tess’s skin crawl. She shook her head in mute rejection. The denial locked in her throat, all she could do was squeeze her eyes closed to avoid the stare of Ben’s cold, creepy eyes, but not before it had loosened the lid on the box in her head marked Don’t deal—lose, bury, forget!

The deeply buried memory that escaped was so clear that for one disorientating moment Tess was sixteen again, cornered by the man her mum was dating. Watching helplessly as he locked the door, his smile and his soft, oily voice making her skin crawl and her insides chill as he told her they could have some fun. Tess knew she was lucky she never found out what his idea of fun entailed because it turned out that sleazy creeps did not find it fun to have their victim throw up all over their expensive new shoes!

‘You know, it’s been a long day,’ the man beside her drawled.

She clung to the sound of his voice, focusing on the faint attractive accent, letting it drag her free of the memories that even now made her feel unclean, but most of all angry because she had felt weak and helpless. ‘And I am not interested in a debate. However, we could move this discussion to the nearest police station?’

There was a silence followed by footsteps. Tess focused on the clean male scent of the man beside her and let it wash away the memory of the sour scent—a combination of sweat and cheap fragrance—that had emanated from her stalker.

The sound of footsteps had faded before her rescuer spoke again. ‘He’s gone. You can open your eyes.’

Italian... Tess speculated as she tilted her head to look up at the tall stranger. He’d have looked beautiful to her if he’d had a bad case of acne, but he didn’t. He was actually incredibly good-looking.

‘I could kiss you!’ Relief made her more painfully honest than normal, and saying what she was thinking always had been one of her faults. ‘But don’t worry, I won’t. I have the flu.’ She let go of his arm and patted the fabric and let out a long fluttering sigh. ‘I’m awfully glad he didn’t hit you.’

His crack of laughter made her smile too, and as their eyes brushed she realised that he wasn’t just good-looking, he was amazing!

He had the olive skin tone that went with jet-black hair, an angular face, dramatic chiselled cheekbones, high forehead, his face bisected by a straight nose, yet the austerity of his strong features was offset by an incredibly sensuous mouth.

His smile was pretty incredible too. It made her feel dizzy. But then he wasn’t smiling, he was frowning and she was still feeling dizzy; his dark features were swimming in and out of focus in a weird way.

‘It’s none of my business...’

So why are you making it your business? asked the exasperated voice in Danilo’s head.

Appreciating the meaning of the phrase weak with relief for the first time, Tess turned her head too quickly and felt the world spin.

‘But don’t you think maybe you should be a little more careful in your choice of boyfriends?’ he observed, tempering both his advice and his disapproval. He might feel he was speaking on behalf of a brother she might have somewhere, but he wasn’t and thank goodness for that. One little sister was enough... Two...? He hadn’t been able to keep the one he had safe.

At least this woman didn’t laugh at him the way Nat had or doubt his qualifications when it came to relationship advice. What Natalia didn’t understand was that actually he was perfectly qualified, because for a long time he’d been the man that brothers warned their sisters not to date.

This woman just looked at him blankly, eyes wide, as though he were speaking a foreign language. He allowed himself the luxury of cursing softly in his native tongue, relieved when he saw comprehension spread across her face.

‘No, he is...never...not...’

Through the rushing sound in her ears Tess could hear her own voice, then there was just the rushing.

Guilt and alarm grabbed at Danilo and he swore again, low and fluently under this breath, as he placed a steadying hand across her shoulders. She sagged like a rag doll and he wrapped his other arm around her middle. It was then he realised several things: she was shaking and, despite her petite appearance underneath the massive coat, she had curves. Only one fact was relevant.

‘You’re not going to faint.’

He said it in a way that at any other time would have made her laugh. Macho men who thought just saying something made it so always made her laugh. They generally didn’t know why she was laughing—alpha males so often had no sense of humour.

She didn’t laugh now though. Instead she leaned against the hand that was now pressed between her shoulder blades and hoped like hell he was right.

‘I’ll be fine.’ The world was swimming back into focus and, yes, he was still as impossibly good-looking.

It didn’t seem a very realistic statement, considering the unhealthy sheen of perspiration on her pale skin, but he approved of positive thinking, especially when the option was having an unconscious female on his hands.

‘Breathe deeply, in and out...no, not too deeply.’ He steadied her violent sway and left his arm around her waist while he pulled out his phone. He wondered if his plan to fly directly back to Rome was still realistic. ‘That’s better...’

She’d thought his eyes were brown, and they were incredibly dark, but now as he captured and held her gaze she realised they were midnight blue, like the night sky, and flecked with tiny points of silver that glittered like stars. From nowhere the phrase soul stripping came into her head, though actually clinical was more accurate.

She moistened her dry, cracked lips with her tongue and nodded. ‘I’m fine now.’

She looked a million miles from fine. ‘My car is coming. Where do you live?’

Tess, her heart still pounding though now with relief and not terror, heard herself recite her address like some obedient lost child. ‘I don’t need a lift. It’s just around the corner.’ What else was around the corner? Bonkers Ben? She shuddered. The mocking nickname no longer worked in making him seem harmless and absurd. He’d been waiting for her...watching? Was he still watching?

The realisation he could extract himself from this little drama sooner rather than later sent a surge of relief through Danilo and for a split second he was sorely tempted to accept the rejection at face value.

Then she looked over her shoulder, the movement fear-filled and furtive—hell!

‘It’s on my way.’

‘It is?’ She suspected it was a lie but wasn’t about to call him on it. The thought of meeting up with her stalker sent a shudder through her.

Concern roughened the edges of his voice as he said softly, ‘You’re safe now.’

His voice pulled her back from the brink of panic; the unexpected gentleness in it made her want to cry.

‘Please don’t be nice,’ she begged. ‘I’ll cry. I know I’m being...’ Pathetic. ‘I’m not normally so—’ Tess brought her teeth down on her wobbling lower lip and blinked back weak tears. ‘He... Ben... He isn’t my boyfriend. He just thinks he is.’

Danilo dismissed her explanation with a shrug of his broad shoulders. ‘Not my business.’ And he had no desire to make it his business, he reminded himself, turning his head as his sister’s features superimposed themselves over the pale, pinched face of this young woman, producing a familiar knife thrust of guilt that he didn’t try to evade.