The Ultimate Risk

CHAPTER THREE

THE Queen of the East was a sixty-metre-long luxury yacht owned by a wealthy Arab sheikh, and was currently moored in St Peter Port off the island of Guernsey. The yacht was certainly impressive, Lanzo thought as he steered his powerboat alongside, shrugged out of his waterproof jacket and prepared to climb aboard.

‘I’m glad you could make it, my friend,’ Sheikh Rashid bin Zayad Hussain greeted him. ‘Your business call was successful, I hope?’

‘Yes, thank you. But I apologise once again for my lateness,’ Lanzo murmured, accepting a glass of champagne from a waiter and glancing around at the other guests who were milling about the yacht’s breathtakingly opulent salon. ‘The refit is superb, Rashid.’

‘I admit I am impressed with the quality of workmanship and attention to detail by Nautica World. The company is small, but Richard Melton has certainly delivered. That is him over there.’ The Sheikh dipped his head slightly. ‘A pleasant fellow—married with two small children, I believe. He has built his company up from nothing, which is no mean feat in these economic times.’

Lanzo followed the Sheikh’s gaze and stiffened with shock. He had been unable to dismiss Gina from his mind for the past twenty-four hours, which had made a mockery of his decision not to contact her again. He desired her, but it was more than that. He was intrigued by her, and curious to discover why she was so different from the girl he had once known.

‘Is the woman with Melton his wife?’ he demanded tersely.

‘The beautiful brunette in the white dress?’ Sheikh Hussain looked over at the Englishman, whose hand was resting lightly on his female companion’s slender waist. ‘No. He simply introduced her as a friend when they came on board. I have met Mrs Melton once, and I understand that she is expecting another child.’ To the Sheikh’s mind there was only one explanation as to the identity of the mystery woman. ‘It would seem that Richard Melton’s good taste extends to his choice of mistress,’ he murmured.

Lanzo’s jaw hardened as he stared at Gina and her male companion. Last night he had puzzled over why she had seemed so wary of him, and had felt concerned that she had been hurt by an event or a person in her past. But now, as he noted her designer dress and the exquisite pearl necklace around her throat, he was sure he had imagined the air of mystery about her, and cynically wondered if she rejected him in favour of a married lover.

‘So, what do you think of the yacht?’

Gina glanced at her brother-in-law and grimaced. ‘It’s stunning, but a bit over the top for my liking,’ she replied honestly. ‘There’s a lot of gold. Do you know that even the taps in the bathroom are gold-plated? Well, of course you know—your company was responsible for the refit. I suppose the important thing is that Sheikh Hussain likes it.’

Richard grinned. ‘He loves it—which is why he’s throwing a party to show it off. Even better, several of his friends here tonight also own yachts and are interested in having them refitted, which is good news for Nautica World.’ He paused. ‘Thanks for accompanying me tonight, Gina. The party is a fantastic opportunity to drum up new business. Usually Sarah comes with me, but she’s finding the last few weeks of this pregnancy exhausting, and I know she was grateful you agreed to take her place.’

‘I’m happy to help,’ Gina said easily. Her smile faded as she thought of her stepsister. ‘Sarah does seem a bit fed up—but I suppose three pregnancies in four years is a lot to cope with.’

‘To be perfectly honest, this last baby was a bit of a mistake,’ Richard admitted ruefully. ‘I only have to look at Sarah and she falls pregnant,’ he joked.

Lucky Sarah, Gina thought wistfully. Her stepsister had no idea what it was like to be unable to conceive, to have your hopes dashed every month, and to feel a pang of longing every time you saw a newborn baby.

She knew her family would have been surprised to learn that she and Simon had tried for over a year to have a child. ‘Oh, Gina is a career woman,’ they’d explained, whenever the question of babies was mentioned by other relatives. She had never spoken about her infertility; she felt enough of a failure as it was, without her family’s well meaning sympathy. And so now she smiled at her brother-in-law and bit back the comment that she would give anything to be happily married with two adorable children and a third on the way.

Richard glanced across the salon. ‘You see that man over there?’ he murmured. ‘He’s one of Sheikh Hussain’s cousins, and he owns a forty-foot motor cruiser. I think I’ll go and have a chat with him.’

Gina laughed. ‘I hope you can convince him that he needs Nautica World’s services.’ She was very fond of her brother-in-law. Richard worked hard, and certainly deserved to be successful.

‘You look stunning tonight, cara.’

The familiar, sexy drawl caused Gina to spin round, and her heart missed a beat when her eyes clashed with Lanzo’s glinting green gaze. Once again his appearance had taken her by surprise, and she had no time to disguise her reaction to him, colour flaring in her cheeks as she acknowledged how incredibly handsome he looked in a black dinner jacket and a snowy white shirt that contrasted with his darkly tanned skin.

‘If I’m not mistaken, your dress is a couture creation. Business must be booming if your boyfriend can afford to buy you pearls and designer clothes, as well as supporting his children and a pregnant wife,’ he drawled.

Gina stared at him, puzzled by his words and the flare of contempt in his eyes. ‘I don’t have a boyfriend—married or otherwise,’ she told him shortly.

‘You’re saying that you are not Richard Melton’s mistress?’

Shock rendered her speechless for twenty seconds. ‘No! I mean, yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying.’ Twin spots of angry colour flared on Gina’s cheeks. ‘Of course I’m not Richard’s mistress.’ Her fingers strayed unwittingly to the rope of perfect white pearls around her neck. ‘Why on earth would you think that?’

Lanzo’s eyes narrowed. ‘Sheikh Hussain has met Melton’s wife. Why else would he parade you on his arm if you are not lovers?’

‘He’s my brother-in-law,’ she explained angrily. ‘Richard is married to my stepsister. Sarah is expecting a baby in a few weeks, and she was too tired to attend the party tonight, so I came with Richard instead.’

She thought of all the newspaper stories she had read over the years about Lanzo’s numerous affairs with glamorous mistresses. The Sheikh was no better. Richard had told her he had a wife in Dubai, but he was obviously having an affair with the voluptuous redhead who was hanging on his arm tonight.

She gave a harsh laugh. ‘You and your Sheikh friend might be notorious womanisers, but don’t judge everyone by your low standards. Richard is devoted to Sarah and the boys, and I would never—’ She broke off, suddenly aware that her raised voice was drawing attention from other guests. ‘I would never have a relationship with a married man. My necklace was left to me by my grandmother, if you must know,’ she said coldly, dismayed to feel her heart-rate quicken when Lanzo ran his fingertip lightly over the pearls and then, by accident or design, traced the line of her collarbone.

‘The pearls were a wedding present to Nonna Ginevra from my grandfather, and I’ll always treasure them.’ Her grandparents had been happily married for sixty years before they had died within a few months of each other. Gina regarded the necklace as a symbol of hope that marriages could last, even though hers had ended after two years. She glared at Lanzo. ‘Excuse me, I need some fresh air,’ she snapped, and spun round to walk away from him.

She had only taken two steps when a voice called her name.

‘Gina—just the person I wanted to see. You’ll be pleased to know that I’ve found tenants who want to rent your flat.’

Gina smiled faintly at Geoffrey Robins, who owned an estate agency in Poole. ‘That is good news,’ she agreed.

‘They want to move in at the end of the month, if that suits you. And the rent they are prepared to pay will cover your mortgage repayments. Did you say you were going to move back to your father’s place until you find another job?’ Geoffrey asked her. ‘Only I heard on the grapevine that Peter is putting the farm on the market following his heart attack.’

She nodded. ‘Yes, Dad is selling the farm. But Sarah and Hazel have both said that I can stay with them, and hopefully I’ll find a job soon.’ Both her stepsisters had growing families and small houses. Moving in with one or other of them was not going to be ideal, but Gina knew that her only hope of keeping her flat was to rent it out for a few months.

‘Well, I’ll catch up with you next week and let you know a few more details,’ Geoffrey said. His eyes lit up when he saw a waiter approach them. ‘Ah, I think I’ll have another glass of that excellent Burgundy.’ He reached out his hand to take a glass of wine, but as he did so the waiter stumbled, the glasses on the tray shot forward, and Gina gave a cry as red wine cascaded down the front of her dress.

‘Scusi! Mi dispiace tanto, signora!’ The horrified waiter apologised profusely in his native Italian. The yacht’s crew were of a variety of nationalities, and this waiter was young and very good-looking—another heartbreaker in the making, Gina thought wryly.

‘E’bene. Non si preoccupy.’ It’s fine. Don’t worry, she assured him calmly.

‘Apparently the best way to remove a red wine stain is to cover it in white wine,’ Geoffrey advised, handing her a small white handkerchief which was of no use at all.

‘I’m quite wet enough, thanks,’ Gina said dryly, supremely conscious of the interested glances she was receiving from the other guests.

She was annoyed that her dress was probably ruined. Her days of being able to afford expensive clothes, which had been a requirement of her job at Meyers, were over, and she would not be able to replace the dress. But far worse was the knowledge that she was the centre of attention. She frantically scanned the salon for Richard, her heart sinking when she saw that he was still deep in conversation with a potential client.

‘Come with me,’ a deep, gravelly voice commanded, and before she could think of arguing Lanzo had slipped his hand beneath her elbow and steered her swiftly through the throng of guests out onto the deck.

‘I don’t believe it,’ she muttered as she dabbed ineffectively at the spreading wine stain with the handkerchief. ‘Dinner is going to be served in a few minutes. I wonder if the Sheikh has anything I could change into?’

‘I doubt it. Rashid probably keeps a selection of skimpy negligees for his mistresses, but you might not feel comfortable wearing one to dinner.’

‘You’re right. I wouldn’t,’ Gina muttered, infuriated by the amused gleam in Lanzo’s eyes.

‘There’s only one thing to do. I’ll take you home.’

She glanced pointedly at the sea stretching far into the distance. The English coastline was not even visible. ‘What a brilliant suggestion,’ she said sarcastically. ‘The only snag is that I can’t swim that far.’

‘You don’t have to, cara. My boat is moored alongside the yacht.’

Frowning, Gina followed Lanzo to the stern of the yacht and stared down at his powerboat. ‘I’m not sure …’ she said doubtfully.