The Ultimate Risk

‘Don’t.’ The plea left her lips before she could stop it. She flushed when his brows rose quizzically. He had every right to look surprised, she thought miserably. Seconds ago she had been leaning close to him, waiting to feel the first brush of his mouth over hers. But when he had touched her face she had been catapulted from her dream-like state back to reality.

She could not bear to see the desire in his eyes turn to revulsion—as would surely happen if he saw her scar. Even worse would be his curiosity. What if he asked her how she had been injured? Nothing would induce her to make the humiliating admission that her ex-husband was responsible for the unsightly scar that now served as a physical reminder of her gullibility.

It sickened her to think that once she had believed she loved Simon, and that he loved her. Only after their wedding had she realised that she had not known the true nature of the man, who had hidden his unpredictable temper beneath a charming façade. She felt ashamed that she had been taken in by Simon, and had sworn that she would never be so trusting again. What did she really know of Lanzo? her brain questioned. Her heart had leapt in recognition when she had first seen him tonight, and all evening she had been swamped with memories of their affair, but in truth her relationship with him ten years ago had lasted for a matter of weeks and he was virtually a stranger.

Lanzo’s eyes narrowed as he watched Gina physically and mentally withdraw from him, and for a few seconds a mixture of anger and frustration flared inside him. She had wanted him to kiss her. He knew he had not imagined the desire that had darkened her eyes to sapphire pools. So why had she pulled back?

The young Gina of his memories had been open and honest, and she had responded to him with an eagerness that he had found curiously touching. It appeared that the more mature, sophisticated Gina had learned to play the games that so many women played, he thought grimly. He had had mistresses in the past who had calculated his wealth and made it clear that their sexual favours came at a price: jewellery, designer clothes, perhaps being set up in a luxury apartment. He presumed that Gina was no different, but he was surprised by the strength of his disappointment.

He stepped back from her and gave her a cool smile. ‘I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me at my house on Sandbanks?’

The address was a sure-fire winner—reputed to be the fourth most expensive place in the world to live. He had never met a woman yet who had not known that properties on that exclusive part of the Dorset coast were mostly worth in excess of ten million pounds. No doubt Gina would be rather more willing to kiss him now that she realised quite how loaded he was, he thought sardonically.

Lanzo had issued his invitation in a perfectly polite tone, but something in his voice made Gina glad that she had not allowed him to kiss her. The warmth had faded from his eyes, and as she met his hard, glinting green gaze a little shiver ran though her. He was a stranger, her brain reiterated, and there was no reason why she should trust him.

She forced her own polite smile. ‘That’s very kind of you, but I’m afraid I’m busy every day next week—and as you told me you are only in Poole for a short visit I doubt we will be able to fit dinner into our respective schedules.’

Lanzo stared at Gina in astonishment, hardly able to believe that she had turned him down. It had never happened to him before, and for a moment he was lost for words. He was used to the fact that his looks and wealth were a potent combination which guaranteed him female attention wherever he went. He only had to click his fingers to have any woman who caught his eye. Ten years ago he had recognised that Gina had had a crush on him. She had fallen into his bed with little effort on his part, and if he was honest he had confidently assumed that she would do so again.

But it was not only her appearance that had changed, he mused. At eighteen she had been shy at first with him, but when he had got to know her and she had relaxed with him he had been charmed by her love of life and her cheerful, carefree nature. At that black period of his life she had seemed like a breath of fresh air, and a welcome distraction from the grim memories of his past.

What had happened in the ten years since he had last seen Gina that had robbed her of her youthful exuberance? he wondered. The woman standing before him had appeared sophisticated and self-assured at the party, but now that they were alone she was tense and on edge, watching him warily—as if she expected him to do what …? he wondered with a frown. Dio, she was afraid of him, he suddenly realised. She had not pulled away from him because she was playing the coquette, but because she did not trust him.

Outrage caused him to stiffen. What in heaven’s name had he done to make her think he might harm her in some way? Following swiftly on the heels of that thought came the realisation that something, or someone, from her past must have caused her to change from a fun-loving girl to a woman who was desperately trying to disguise the fact that she was nervous of him. He wanted to ask her who? What had happened to her that made her flinch from him?

He looked at her tense face and acknowledged that she was not likely to confide in him. More surprising was the feeling of protectiveness that swept through him—together with anger that someone had turned her from the trusting, happy girl he had once known to a woman who was wary and mistrustful, with an air of sadness about her that tugged on his insides.

‘What a busy life you must lead if you do not have one free night,’ he murmured. ‘Perhaps we can postpone my invitation to dinner until my next visit to Poole?’ he added softly when she blushed. He held out his hand. ‘Give me your key.’

‘Why?’ Gina could not hide the suspicion in her voice. What did he want? Was he hoping she would invite him in for coffee, and then expect the invitation to lead to something more? Panic churned inside her. Since her divorce she had been on a couple of dinner dates, but she had never been alone with a man. Simon had caused untold damage to her self-confidence, she acknowledged heavily. She wanted to move on, have other relationships and maybe even fall in love, but sometimes she despaired that she would ever be able to trust a man again.

‘I was merely going to see you safely inside,’ Lanzo explained steadily, taking the key that Gina was clutching in her fingers.

He stood staring down at her for a few moments, and her breath caught in her throat when something flared in his eyes. She wondered if he was going to ignore her earlier plea and kiss her after all, and she realised that part of her wished he would pull her into his arms and slant his sensual mouth over hers. She wanted to forget Simon’s cruelty and lose herself in Lanzo’s potent magnetism. Unconsciously she moistened her lower lip with the tip of her tongue, and heard his swiftly indrawn breath.

‘Buona notte, Gina,’ he said quietly, and then, to her shock, he turned and walked away, striding along the quay without a single glance over his shoulder. His tall, broad-shouldered figure was gradually swallowed up by the darkness, and the ring of his footsteps faded into the night, leaving her feeling strangely bereft.

For a few moments she stared after him, and then stepped into her flat and shut the door, realising as she did so that she had been holding her breath. Why on earth, she asked herself angrily, did she feel an overwhelming urge to burst into tears? Was it the thought that she would probably never see Lanzo again after she had refused his invitation to dinner? He was a billionaire playboy who could have any woman he wanted and he was not likely to bother with her again.

She was too wound up to go to bed, and after flicking through the TV channels and finding nothing that captured her attention she headed for the bathroom and ran a bath. Lanzo’s darkly handsome face filled her consciousness, and with a sigh she sank into the fragrant bubbles and allowed her mind to drift back ten years.

She had been so excited to be offered a job as a waitress at the swanky new Italian restaurant on the quay, Gina recalled. She’d just finished her A-levels and been desperate to earn some money to spend on new summer clothes. While she had been at school she had received a small allowance from her father, but the family farm barely made a profit and money had always been tight.

Lanzo had arrived in Poole for the opening night of the

Di Cosimo restaurant and stayed for the summer. Golden-skinned, exotic, and heart-stoppingly sexy, he had been so far removed from the few boys of her own age Gina had dated that she had been blown away by his stunning looks and lazy charm.

He had a reputation as a playboy, and he’d always had a gorgeous woman clinging to his arm. How she had envied those women, Gina remembered ruefully. How she had longed to be beautiful and blonde and thin. But Lanzo had never seemed to notice her—until one day he had spoken to her and she had been so tongue-tied that she had stared at the floor, praying he would not notice her scarlet face.

‘Don’t slouch,’ he had instructed her. ‘You should hold your head up and be confident—not scurry around like a little mouse. When you look down no one can see your eyes, which is a pity because you have beautiful eyes,’ he had added slowly, and he had tilted her chin and stared down at her.

She had hardly been able to breathe, and when he had smiled she had practically melted at his feet and smiled shyly back at him. And that had been the start, she thought. From that day Lanzo had made a point of saying hello to her, or bidding her goodnight at the end of her shift. When he had learned that she had to race out of the restaurant when it closed so that she could catch the last bus home he had insisted on driving her back to the farm, and those journeys in his sports car had become the highlight of her days.

Lanzo drove at a hair-raising speed, and that first night Gina had gripped her seat as they had hurtled down the narrow country lanes, the hedgerows flashing past in a blur.

‘Relax—I’m a good driver,’ he had said in an amused voice. ‘Tell me about yourself.’

That had certainly made her forget her fear that he would misjudge the next sharp bend and they would crash. What on earth was there to tell? She’d been sure the mundane details of her life would be of no interest to a playboy billionaire, but she had obediently chatted to him about growing up on the farm with her father and stepmother, and her two stepsisters.

‘My parents divorced when I was eight, and when Dad married Linda a few years later she brought her daughters, Hazel and Sarah, to live at the farm.’

‘What about your mother?’ Lanzo asked. ‘Why didn’t you live with her after the divorce?’

‘Dad thought it would be better for me to stay with him. My mother had been having an affair behind my father’s back, and one day I came home from school to find a note saying she had left us for one of the labourers Dad had employed on the farm. Mum never stayed in one place for long, or with one man,’ Gina admitted. ‘I visited her occasionally, but I was happier living with Dad and Linda.’

Witnessing her mother’s chaotic lifestyle and her numerous volatile relationships had made Gina realise that she wanted her future to be very different. Marriage, a happy home and children might not be fashionable goals, but she wasn’t ashamed to admit that they were more important to her than a high-flying career.

Lanzo drove her home several times a week, and she slowly grew more relaxed with him—although her intense awareness of him never lessened. He was always charming, but sometimes she sensed a dark mood beneath his smile. There was a restless tension about him, and an air of deep sadness that puzzled and disturbed her, but he never spoke of his personal life and she was too shy to pry.

‘I find you peaceful company, Gina,’ he told her one night when he stopped the car outside the farm gates.

‘Is that a polite way of saying I’m boring?’ she blurted out, wishing with all her heart that he thought she was gorgeous and sexy. Peaceful made her sound like a nun.

‘Of course not. I don’t find you at all boring,’ he assured her quietly. He turned his head towards her, and the brilliant gleam in his green eyes made Gina’s heart lurch. ‘You are very lovely,’ he murmured deeply, before he brushed his mouth over hers in a kiss that was as soft as thistledown and left her yearning for more.

‘I checked the rota and saw that it’s your day off tomorrow. Would you like to come out with me on my boat? ‘

Would she?

She barely slept that night, and the next day when she heard Lanzo’s car pull up on the drive she dashed out to meet him, her face pink with an excitement that at eighteen she was too young and naïve to try and disguise.

It had been a glorious day, Gina remembered, sliding deeper beneath the bathwater. The sun had shone from a cloudless blue sky as Lanzo had steered the luxurious motor cruiser he had chartered out of the harbour. His dark mood seemed to have disappeared, and he’d been charismatic and mouth-wateringly sexy, his faded jeans sitting low on his hips and his chest bared to reveal an impressive six-pack. Gina had watched him with a hungry yearning in her eyes, and her heart had raced when he had pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

They had cruised along the coast, picnicked in a secluded bay, and later he had made love to her in the cabin below deck. The sound of the waves lapping against the boat and the mewing cry of the gulls had mingled with his low murmurs of pleasure when he had stroked his hands over her trembling, eager body.

There had been one moment when her hesitancy had made him pause. ‘It’s not your first time, is it?’ he had asked with a frown.

‘No,’ she’d lied, terrified that he would stop if she admitted the truth.

But he hadn’t stopped. He had kissed her with a feverish passion that had thrilled her, and caressed her with gentle, probing fingers until she had been so aroused that when he had finally entered her there had been no discomfort, just a wonderful sense of completeness—as if she had been waiting all her life for this moment and this man.

The bathwater had cooled, and Gina shivered as she sat up abruptly and reached for a towel. She had not only give Lanzo her virginity that day, she had given him her heart—naïvely not realising that for him sex was simply a pleasurable experience that meant nothing to him. Now she was older and wiser, and she understood that desire and love were not inextricably entwined.

She would not be so careless with her heart again, she thought as she stared at her smudged reflection in the steamed-up mirror. In fact, since her marriage to Simon had proved to be such a mistake, she had lost all confidence in her judgement and wondered if she would ever fall in love again.

But she was not an over-awed eighteen-year-old with a head full of unrealistic expectations, she reminded herself. She knew Lanzo had desired her tonight, and she could not deny her fierce attraction to him. She could not allow her experiences with Simon to ruin the rest of her life, and perhaps a passionate fling with a drop-dead sexy playboy was just what she needed to restore her self-confidence after her divorce? she mused.

But much later that night, when sleep still eluded her, she acknowledged that only a fool played with fire and did not expect to get burned.