The Innocent's Sinful Craving

Only she wasn’t dreaming. Not this time. She was looking at Zac Belisandro—not on the other side of the world but, by some ill chance, right here.

Waiting for her.

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_dd01bbff-79b3-5d74-b967-65a03457ff5a)

NO!

The word was in her throat like a silent scream. Because it couldn’t be true. Yet the wild, unruly thud of her terrified heart told her there was no room for doubt.

She couldn’t run. There was nowhere to go and, anyway, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of putting her to flight.

But he wouldn’t be able to get rid of her this time. Serafina was no longer around to sit in judgement on a young girl who’d offended her code of conduct.

This time, she was Nicola’s guest. One of the gang. And Nicola would laugh to scorn any attempt to discredit her.

‘Come off it, Zac.’ Dana could hear her now. ‘She can’t be the first girl who’s come on to you and the others have all been old enough to know better. Besides, it was a long time ago.’

A long time ago, she repeated silently. So why did it feel as if it were only yesterday?

And what if he replied, ‘But it wasn’t me she wanted. Not then. Not now. It’s Adam—and this house.’

He could blow her plans clean out of the water with one sneering remark. Could—and probably would.

Her legs were shaking, but she dragged every rag of calm she possessed around her, to get her safely up the steps.

But not past him...

He was standing, hands on hips, his face a mask, his eyes raking her from head to foot, as he said softly, ‘So you have come back. I thought you would have more sense.’

Dana met his gaze, hard as obsidian. ‘I accepted an invitation from an old friend, nothing more.’ She lifted her chin. ‘And how are things with you, Mr Belisandro? Still devouring the world?’

‘In small bites, Miss Grantham.’ His voice was a drawl, his tone tinged with ice. ‘And never more than I can comfortably chew. A policy I recommend to you, signorina.’

The close-fitting charcoal pants he wore had the sheen of silk, while the matching shirt was negligently unbuttoned revealing more of the muscular bronze of his chest than she’d any wish to see.

It made her feel uneasy—almost restless, and she shrugged, fighting to regain some equilibrium. ‘That depends, I suppose, on the size of one’s appetite.’

‘And yours, if memory serves, borders on the voracious. If you wish to discuss mine, I suggest we choose somewhere more private. The summer house, perhaps.’

He watched the swift flare of colour in her face and nodded, smiling a little. ‘So this new sophistication is only skin-deep after all. But how fascinating. And what temptation.’

‘I’d say—what arrogance, Mr Belisandro.’ Her hands curled into fists at her sides. ‘You clearly haven’t changed at all.’

It wasn’t true. He’d matured, wearing his thirty-two years with toned grace. He’d always been attractive. Even she had to admit that. But now he was—spectacular. And, as such, formidable.

‘I have never found a reason to do so,’ he said. ‘Although I may have become a little more compassionate than I was seven years ago, so let me offer you some advice.’

He took a step towards her and it needed every scrap of self-command she possessed not to back away.

He went on quietly, ‘Recall some pressing engagement and return to London. Meet Nicola for lunch occasionally, if both of you so wish. But hope for nothing more. That way you may remain unscathed.’

He paused. ‘Continue on your present path, and you will regret it.’

Her throat tightened but she managed a little laugh. ‘How very melodramatic. Is this how you threaten your business competitors?’

‘I rarely find it necessary. They listen to reason. I suggest you do the same.’

‘Thank you.’ Dana drew a deep breath. ‘Please believe that if ever I need your advice, I’ll ask for it. In the meantime, I plan to enjoy a pleasant weekend in these beautiful—and desirable—urroundings. I hope you do the same.’

‘If you’re looking for Adam,’ he said as she turned towards the French windows. ‘He has not yet arrived. He is driving down with his latest girl, Robina Simmons, whose lack of punctuality is legendary, so they have probably quarrelled.’ He smiled. ‘Let us hope the disagreement will not last.’

‘Unlike ours,’ Dana threw over her shoulder. ‘Which I’m sure will run and run.’

Not much of a last word, she thought shakily, but better than nothing.

The drawing room was empty so she was able to escape to her room without another unwanted confrontation to add to the inner turmoil, already threatening to tear her apart.

Zac Belisandro—here, she thought as she sank down on the edge of the bed. How was it possible? And why hadn’t Nicola warned her?

Because she had no reason to do so, she answered her own question. To Nicola, Zac was simply Serafina’s billionaire cousin and Adam’s friend. Someone she’d known and trusted for most of her life.

Whereas to me, she thought bitterly, he’s the man who’s already tried to ruin my life once, and who hasn’t finished yet. He’s made that more than clear.

Just as he’d relished telling her that Adam wasn’t arriving alone, although she wouldn’t let herself worry too much about that. According to his sister he had a rapid turnover in girlfriends—and if they were already quarrelling...

“Adam wanted me once,” she whispered to herself. “I have to make him remember that—and want me again, even more. To the point of desperation, no less. Because only he can give me Mannion, and I’ll settle for nothing less.”

Not that he would have any reason to feel short-changed. She would make him a good wife—the best—and be the perfect hostess in a house she would restore to its former glory.

Even Zac Belisandro would have to admit as much...

She paused right there, shocked at herself, her heart skipping a nervous beat.

Because what did his opinion matter—or his empty threats? His presence here was temporary. His work—his life—belonged thousands of miles away and soon he would be returning there to resume both of them.

While she would still be here. So why was she letting him get to her—invading her consciousness even marginally?

She drew a deep, steadying breath.

She’d waited so long for this day when she’d finally return to Mannion that it was hardly surprising she found herself on edge, making mountains out of what would prove to be molehills.

What she needed now was to relax—and regroup.

A warm bath would be good, followed by a brief nap before she dressed for dinner.

Tonight’s outfit had been chosen with care, because she needed to make it count. It was a simply cut dress in a silky and striking fabric the colour of amber, which added lustre to her skin, while the low square neck, revealing the first creamy swell of her breasts and the brief flare of the skirt was gently but enticingly provocative.

She had amber drops set in gold for her ears—a present to herself bought from her first bonus at Jarvis Stratton, to mark the moment when she’d thought of herself as having a career instead of just a job. When she’d started to believe in herself again, and feel a growing conviction that she would succeed where her mother had failed.