Kitabı oku: «New Arrivals: One Secret Child: Mistress, Mother...Wife? / Wealthy Australian, Secret Son / Her Prince's Secret Son»
These men will do their duty—but marriage and love wasn’t in their plans…
ONE SECRET
CHILD
MAGGIE COX
MARGARET WAY
LINDA GOODNIGHT
New Arrivals One Secret Child
Mistress,
Mother…Wife?
Maggie Cox
Wealthy Australian,
Secret Son
Margaret Way
Her Prince’s
Secret Son
Linda Goodnight
www.millsandboon.co.uk
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Mistress, Mother…Wife?
About the Author
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
Wealthy Australian, Secret Son
About the Author
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
Her Prince’s Secret Son
About the Author
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Epilogue
Copyright
Mistress, Mother…Wife?
Maggie Cox
The day MAGGIE COX saw the film version of Wuthering Heights, with a beautiful Merle Oberon and a very handsome Laurence Olivier, was the day she became hooked on romance. From that day onwards she spent a lot of time dreaming up her own romances, secretly hoping that one day she might become published and get paid for doing what she loved most!
Now that her dream is being realised, she wakes up every morning and counts her blessings. She is married to a gorgeous man and is the mother of two wonderful sons. Her two other great passions in life—besides her family and reading/writing—are music and films.
CHAPTER ONE
IT WAS a pastime she liked to employ when things got a little slower towards the end of the evening. She’d scan the remaining customers who were lingering over their drinks at tables or at the bar and conjure up a tale about them. Making up stories was meat and drink to Anna… it was the thing that had kept her sane and protected when she was a child. Her little made-up worlds had all been so much safer and fulfilling than reality, and there were many, many times she’d sought refuge there.
Now, as though tugged by a powerful magnet, yet again she considered the handsome, square-jawed individual staring into space in the furthermost corner of the room. He’d occupied the stylish burgundy armchair for at least two hours now, had neither removed his coat nor glanced interestedly at the other well-heeled patrons even once. It was as though they were completely off his radar. All he seemed to be focused on was the inner screen of his own troubled mind.
There was definitely an intense, preoccupied air about him that intrigued Anna. After all, what dreamer with a yen for making up stories wouldn’t be intrigued or provoked by such fascinating material? Making sure she was discreet, she studied him hard. She hadn’t personally looked into his eyes yet, but already she guessed they would have the power to hynotise whoever was caught in their gaze. A small shiver ran down her spine.
Having checked the room to see if she was needed anywhere, she let her gaze return to the mystery man. He had straight mid-blond hair, with hints of silver in it, and appeared to be growing out a cut that had probably been both stylish and expensive. Everything about him exuded wealth and good taste, a well as the sense of power and entitlement that often accompanied those attributes. Although his eye-catching broad shoulders appeared weighed down by his concerns, he also wore a fierce need for privacy that was like an invisible electronic gate, warning all comers that they encroached upon his space at their peril. Had an important deal gone sour? Had someone deceived him or seriously let him down in some way? He didn’t look like a man who suffered fools gladly.
Anna sighed, then studied him again. No…she’d got it all wrong. The black coat he was wearing suddenly sang out to her. He’d lost someone close. Yes, that was it. He was grieving. That was why his expression was so haunted and morose. As she studied his formidable chiselled profile, with the deep shadow of a cleft centred in that square-cut chin, it seemed almost impertinent to speculate about him further if she’d guessed the truth. Poor man… He must be feeling totally wretched.
The third Scotch on the rocks he’d ordered was drained right down to the bottom of the glass, Anna noticed. Would he be ordering another one? Bitter personal experience had taught her that alcohol never solved anything. All it had done for her father was make his black moods even blacker.
The hotel bar closed at eleven-thirty and it was already a quarter past, she saw. Collecting a tray, she circumnavigated the tables with her usual light step, her heart thudding like a brick dropped into a millpond as she overrode her natural inclination to stay well clear. In front of the man, she schooled her lips into a pleasant smile.
‘I’m sorry to disturb you, sir, but will you be requiring another drink? Only, the bar will be closing soon.’
Glittering blue-grey eyes that contained all the warmth of a perilous icy sea swivelled to survey her. For a startled second Anna told herself it served her right if she received a frosty reception, when his body language clearly signalled that he wanted to be left alone. But just then a corner of the austere masculine mouth lifted in the mocking semblance of a smile.
‘What do you think? Do I look like I’m in need of another drink, beautiful?’
There was the faintest Mediterranean edge to his otherwise British accent. But in any case he was wrong. She wasn’t beautiful. If it weren’t for the rippling waistlength auburn hair that she freed from her workday style every night when her shift ended, Anna would consider herself quite ordinary. Yet the unexpected compliment—mocking or otherwise—was as though he’d lit a brightly burning candle inside her.
‘I wouldn’t presume to think I knew what you needed, sir.’
‘Call me Dan,’ he said, giving her the commonly abbreviated form of his name which he went by in London, not wanting to hear Dante, the name his mother had gifted him with, tonight of all nights.
The invitation almost caused her to stumble. She dipped her head beneath the glare of his riveting gaze because it was almost too powerful to look into for long.
‘We’re not supposed to address the customers personally,’ she answered.
‘And do you always follow the rules to the letter?’
‘I do if I want to keep my job.’
‘This establishment would be extremely foolish if they were to get rid of a girl like you.’
‘You don’t even know me.’
‘Maybe I’d like to.’ His smile was slow and deliberate. ‘Get to know you better, I mean.’
That roguish grin was like a guided missile that hit all her sensitive spots at once. Inside, the implosion almost rocked Anna off her feet.
‘I don’t think you do,’ she remarked, serious-voiced. ‘You’re probably just looking for a handy diversion, if the truth be known.’
‘Really? A diversion from what, exactly?’ A dark blond eyebrow with tiny glints of copper in it lifted in amusement.
‘From whatever unhappy thoughts that have been bothering you.’
The smile vanished. His expression became as guarded as though a wall made of three-foot-deep granite had thundered down in front of it.
‘How do you know I’m disturbed by unhappy thoughts? What are you…a mind-reader?’
‘No.’ Anna’s teeth nibbled anxiously at her lip. ‘I just observe people and—and sense things about them.’
‘What a dangerous occupation. And you’re compelled to do this why? You don’t have any of your own material to contemplate? You must be a rare human being indeed if that’s the case…to have managed to negotiate your way through life without any problems at all.’
‘I haven’t…gone through life without any problems, I mean. How would I have learned anything or be able to empathise with other people if I’d been problem-free? I’d also be quite superficial…which I’m not.’
‘And here I was, thinking you were just a simple, uncomplicated barmaid, when in fact you’re clearly quite the little philosopher.’
Anna didn’t take the comment as an insult. How could she? As well as the pain glittering in his wintercoloured eyes, locked inside his scathing tone was the suggestion of the blackest kind of despair.
A heartfelt desire to help ease it in some way swept passionately through her.
‘I’m not looking for trouble. You just seemed so alone and sad, sitting there, that I thought that if you wanted to talk…well, I’d be a good listener. Sometimes it’s easier to tell your troubles to a stranger than someone you know. But anyway, if you think that’s impertinent of me, and another drink would help more, then I’ll gladly get you one.’
The man who’d told her to call him Dan raised a shoulder, then dropped it again dismissively.
‘I’m not the unburdening kind, and if you were hoping I might be then I have to tell you that you’re wasting your time. What’s your name? ‘
‘Anna.’
‘That’s it… just Anna?’
‘Anna Bailey.’
A cold sweat broke out across her skin, where previously his disturbing glance had kindled the kind of heat that made dry tinder burst into flames. Was he going to report her or something? She hadn’t meant to insult him. Her only desire had been to help if she could. Was he an important enough customer for a complaint from him to help her lose her job? She prayed not.
The comfortable family-run hotel in a quiet corner of Covent Garden had become her home for the past three years, and she loved everything about it—including her work. She didn’t even mind if she sometimes had to work long hours. Her employers were so kind—generous to a fault, in fact—and her recent pay-rise had helped make life a whole lot more comfortable than when she’d worked at jobs she’d hated and for too little money. Lord knew she didn’t want to go back to struggling again.
‘Look, Mr, er…’
‘I told you to call me Dan.’
‘I can’t do that.’
‘Why? ‘ he snapped, his expression irritated.
‘Because it wouldn’t be professional. I’m an employee here and you’re a guest.’
‘Yet you offered me a shoulder to cry on. Is that on offer to all your guests, Anna?’
She flushed. ‘Of course not. I just wanted to—’
‘So the only thing that prevents you calling me by my first name is that you’re a stickler for the rules and you work here, while I’m a paying customer?’
‘I’d better go.’
‘No—stay. Is there any other reason you can’t be more informal? Like the fact that you’ve got a husband or boyfriend waiting for you at home, perhaps?’
Anna stared helplessly.
‘No.’ She cleared her throat, then glanced round to see if anyone was observing them.
Brian—her young, dark-haired colleague—was wiping down the half-moon-shaped bar and chatting to a customer at the same time, whilst a smartly dressed middle-aged couple sat tenderly holding hands as they lingered over their after-theatre drinks. They’d regaled Anna earlier with tales of the play they’d been to, and their infectious enjoyment was contagious. Twenty-five years married and they were still like young lovers around each other.
Sighing, she turned back to find him broodingly examining her. The sudden jolt of her heartbeat mimicked another heavy brick splashing into a pond as his glance interestedly and deliberately appraised her figure. His gaze lingered boldly on the curve of her hips and the swell of her breasts, trailing sensuous fire in its wake. There was nothing provocative about the purple silk blouse with its pretty Chinese collar and the straight grey skirt that denoted her uniform, but when he studied her like that—as if he were imagining her naked and willing in his bed—Anna felt as if there was nowhere to hide.
A trembling excitement soared through her blood at his near-insolent examination. An excitement that was like a gargantuan powerful wave dangerously poised to sweep her into uncharted waters she’d never dared visit before.
‘In that case…I’ve had a change of heart,’ Dante drawled, smiling. ‘Maybe sharing my troubles with a sweet girl like you is just what I need tonight, Anna. What time do you finish?’
‘Around midnight, by the time Brian and I have cashed up.’ How was it possible for her voice to sound so level when inside a roaring furnace was all but consuming her?
‘And how do you normally get home? Do you get a cab?’
‘I live in, actually.’
Just like a popped balloon, her last defence deflated and it was no longer possible for her to pretend that the handsome, hard-jawed stranger hadn’t affected her deeply. The truth was that he held a dangerous fascination for her. She was hypnotised by the simmering aura of sensuality implicit in his rough velvet voice and in the twin lakes of his troubled haunting eyes. As a result, her bones seemed to be held together by running water instead of strong connective tissue. Unable to think straight, Anna knew her returning glance was nervous as she gathered the round wooden tray up close to her chest as though it were a shield.
‘Have you made up your mind about the drink? Only I’ve got to get back to the bar to work.’
‘Another drink can wait.’
Unbuttoning his coat for the first time that evening, Dante handed her his empty glass with another long, slow, meaningful glance. His lean fingers brushed hers. Did she imagine that they lingered there against her skin much longer than necessary? His touch was like being grazed by lightning—deliberate or not.
‘I’m staying here too tonight, Anna. And I think that we should have a drink together when your shift ends… don’t you?’
A definite refusal was on the tip of her tongue, but inside the dogged belief clung that perhaps she really could help him by being a good listener. Her lips pursed tight to prevent it. But when she turned away it was as if some kind of aftershock from their encounter had seized her, because her limbs were shaking almost violently as she crossed the room to rejoin Brian.
There was no understanding such alternating and violent sweeps of emotion, thought Dante. He had just flown into London from his mother’s funeral—the funeral of the one person in the world he had truly loved, who had always been there for him no matter what, who had been like a beacon of light he turned to when he ached to remember that beauty, grace and selfless kindness existed in the world.
Now that she was gone he was heartbroken…truly heartbroken. But another woman also occupied his thoughts right now. His body had somehow acquired a compelling desire to know the touch of a red-haired young witch with sherry-brown eyes that glinted beguilingly like firelight—a girl he had only just met whom he had all but mocked disparagingly when she’d shyly offered him a listening ear. Was it so rare that he met up with a genuinely nice girl that he had to punish her when he did?
His mother would turn in her newly dug grave! Bitterness and despair rising in his gorge, Dante ripped off his wristwatch to discard it onto the nearby polished side-table. His coat followed suit, but he let it fall carelessly onto the bed instead. Several hundred dollars’ worth of the finest cashmere—but what did it signify? His wealth had neither made him a better man nor a more generous one.
His personal assessment was brutally frank. All the businesses and property he had accumulated through mergers and acquisitions had demonstrated to him was how driven and ruthless he’d become. Yes, driven and ruthless—because of an underlying fear of losing it all. An impoverished childhood and a father who had deserted him had seen to that. He’d been so poor in the small mountain village in Italy where he’d grown up that his mother had been forced to earn their bread by dancing and singing for men in seedy bars in the nearby town, and Dante had long ago set his hungry intention for any career he might settle upon to make him wildly and disgustingly rich so that he might rescue them both.
His wealth would act as an insulating buffer between him and the rest of the world, he’d told himself. Then no one would have the chance to hurt him or his mother again, and neither would she have to humiliate herself by parading her beauty in front of men for money. Dante had carried that insulation with him into his marriage and into any other romantic relationship he’d briefly flirted with, forever seeking to protect his emotions. He’d become cold…not to mention a little heartless.
‘No wonder they call you the ice man of the business world,’ his American ex-wife, Marisa, had taunted him.
‘You’re so dedicated to the title that you even bring it home with you!’
At first his mother had been fiercely proud of his rocketing success. He’d bought her the house of her dreams in Lake Como, and made sure she always had plenty of money to buy whatever she wanted. But lately whenever he’d visited her she’d started to profess concern. With one failed marriage and a string of unhappy relationships behind him, it had only seemed to Renata that her son had lost all sense of priority.
It should be the people in his life who were important, she’d told him—not his business or the grand houses he bought—and if he continued in this soulless way then she would sell the richly decorated house on its exclusive plot by the lake and purchase a hut in the hills instead! After all, she’d been raised as a shepherd’s daughter, and she wasn’t ashamed to go back to where she’d begun even if he was. Someone had to show him what values were.
Dante grimaced at the hurtful memory of her distressed face and quavering voice when she’d said this to him in the hospital.
To diffuse his despair he deliberately brought his mind back to the titian-haired Anna Bailey. His reaction was purely male and instinctive, and his body tightened instantly. It was as though someone had stoked a fire beneath his blood and set it ceaselessly simmering. Reaching for his discarded watch, he impatiently scanned the time, all but boring a hole in the door with his naked, hungry glance as he waited for her to arrive—not once allowing himself to think that she wouldn’t…
As if needing to enquire about something, her brooding new friend had leaned across the bar on his way out and whispered softly to Anna, ‘Let’s have that drink together in my room. I’m staying in the suite on the top floor. It would mean a lot to me… especially tonight. Please don’t disappoint me.’
His lips had been a hair’s breadth away from her ear and his warm breath had all but set her alight. The seductive sensation had been the mesmerising equivalent of an intoxicating cocktail she was powerless to refuse. She knew it would make her dizzy and light-headed, but it still held a potent allure she couldn’t ignore.
Anna had watched Dan’s tall broad-shouldered physique as he left the bar with her heart thumping. Now, in the privacy of her room, she blew out a trembling breath, dropping down onto the padded stool in front of the dressing table because she hardly trusted her legs to keep her upright.
The enigmatic stranger was staying in the only suite in the building. It was the most luxurious and gorgeous accommodation she had ever seen. With its beautiful Turkish kelims hanging on the walls, artisan-created bespoke furniture and under-floor heating, no expense had been spared in its creation and it cost a small fortune to stay there for even one night.
Biting her lip, Anna peered into the dressing table mirror to gauge if her expression was as terrified as she felt. Was she really contemplating visiting a male guest in his room? Talking to that lovely couple who’d been to the theatre earlier, she had felt such a pang of envy at their closeness. It wasn’t very often she succumbed to feelings of loneliness, but somehow tonight she had. What had he meant when he’d whispered, It would mean a lot to me…especially tonight? Was he feeling lonely too? Had the funeral she guessed he’d attended been for someone really close to him? His wife perhaps?
A heavy sigh, part compassion, part longing, left her. If anyone saw her go to his room then she really could lose her job. Was the loneliness that had infiltrated her blood tonight making her a little desperate? Not to mention reckless? Sighing again, Anna went into the bathroom to splash her face with cold water.
Back in the main room, she glanced unseeingly at the television that sat there. Somehow a late-night movie or talk show didn’t hold any draw for her. Neither did curling up in bed alone with her thoughts appeal. She’d sensed an inexplicable overwhelming connection to the man who had whispered in her ear downstairs and it was somehow impossible to ignore it. Tomorrow he might be gone, she reasoned feverishly.
She would be wondering what might have been—and the feeling would gnaw away at her if she didn’t act.
With fingers that shook, she freed her hair from the neatly coiled bun she’d got so adept at fashioning for work, then pulled a careless brush through the river of auburn silk that flowed down her back. Pinching her cheeks to make them pinker, she quickly changed into a dark green top and light blue jeans. He only wants to talk, she reassured herself as she walked out into the corridor. But her pulse beat with fright because he might have been looking for something more…something that in her heart of hearts she secretly longed for.
Flicking an anxious glance towards the small elevator that would soundlessly deliver her to the topmost floor, Anna sucked in a breath as she walked towards it.
The memory of Dan and his haunting mist-coloured eyes came back to her, cutting a swathe through her sudden doubt. Just because he was rich it didn’t mean that he didn’t suffer like everyone else…didn’t mean that he didn’t need help sometimes. And from her very first glimpse of him Anna had known he was tortured by something.
The polite welcome he’d intended got locked inside his throat when Dante opened the door to the vision that confronted him. She wore her bright auburn hair loose, and it resembled a burnished autumn sunset cascading down over her shoulders. His stomach muscles clamped tight and the saliva in his mouth dried to a sun-baked desert.
Finding his voice, he murmured, ‘Come in.’
Stepping inside, Anna smiled. It was shy and brief, but it still gave him a jolt that had his heart thrumming with undeniable excitement.
‘What can I get you to drink?’ Moving across the gold and red Chinese rug that covered the main area of the polished wooden floor, Dante paused in front of the dark mahogany glass-fronted cabinet that contained several bottles of spirits behind it and rested his gaze on Anna.
‘Nothing, thanks. Alcohol and me don’t mix, I’m afraid. Just one sip is enough to make me dizzy.’
‘A soft drink, then?’
‘Please… just see to yourself. I’m fine, really.’
Dropping his hands restlessly to his hips, he let a rueful grin hijack his lips.
‘I think I’ve probably had quite enough for one night.’
‘You’ve decided not to drown your sorrows after all?’
‘Not now that you’ve consented to visit me, Anna.’
She crossed her arms over her dark green top, and Dante couldn’t think of a colour that would complement her pale satin skin more. Without warning, the fresh, searing pain of his recent loss swept over him. It returned with renewed force and he wanted to reach out, anchor himself to life again, remind himself that even though his mother had gone beauty and grace were still his to appreciate if only he’d take the trouble to see it. If he brushed up close to such admirable qualities in Anna would it relieve him of the bitter, despairing thoughts that pounded on him so disturbingly? Thoughts that confirmed his growing belief that he must be no good?
Yes, his nature was clearly unlovable and unworthy of regard—hadn’t his own father abandoned him?—so perhaps he deserved abandonment by the people close to him? Especially when he’d been so ruthlessly focused on making himself rich that he scarcely saw the needs of anyone else.
‘It upsets me when you look like that,’ Anna confessed softly.
‘Like what? ‘
‘As if you don’t like yourself very much.’
‘Is there no hiding from that all-seeing gaze of yours?’ Dante retorted uncomfortably.
‘I just want to help you if I can.’
‘Do you? Do you really?’
‘Of course I do. Why do you think I came? Would you like to talk about it?’
‘No, sweetheart. Talking is not what I need right now,’ he answered, gravel-voiced.
And for a man who had prided himself on achieving anything he put his mind to in life it was ironically too difficult a task to keep the raw need that surged through his body like a tidal wave completely out of his tone.
CHAPTER TWO
IN SLOW motion he reached for Anna’s hand. His eyes—those intense, burning, ethereal eyes—held her willing prisoner, right then becoming her whole world.
‘What do you want?’ she whispered, hardly able to hear over the pounding of her heart. ‘What do you need?’
‘You, Anna…right now I want and need you.’
After that, words became unnecessary. His fingers were slipping through her hair, anchoring her head so that she was placed perfectly for his kiss when he delivered it…when the touch of his lips ignited a heartfelt need that had slumbered achingly inside her for years and promised to more than satisfy it.
She’d always thought that maybe her impassioned secret desires were doomed to remain unrequited. On the rare occasion when she’d allowed herself to overcome her mistrust and be caressed by a man, the experience had never remotely lived up to her hopes. All it had done was leave her feeling vulnerable, scared that she would end up alone and unloved until the end of her days. But now, as his warm velvet tongue so hungrily and devastatingly swept her mouth’s interior, the flavours she tasted rocked her.
Along with passion, fervour and consuming need, Anna was alive to the anger, despair and pain that she tasted too. But she didn’t let such stark emotions scare her…not when they mirrored feelings of her own that she’d often been too afraid to bring into the light. Because of that she innately understood the tumult that flowed heatedly through his blood—good and bad—even if she didn’t know the details.
Crushed to his warm hard chest in its dark roll-necked sweater, she felt musky male heat and sexy woody cologne captivate her senses as he ravished her in the starved, insatiable way she’d always dreamt of being loved by a man. Holding on to his hard-muscled biceps to keep from falling, Anna feverishly and willingly paid him back in kind. And in her head echoed the advice from her mother that she’d never forgotten: Only give yourself to someone you love.
On the bed in a room where in their haste to be together they hadn’t even paused to turn on a light they raided each other’s clothes with trembling hands—desperate for skin on skin contact and more drugging open-mouthed kisses that promised to last all night long. And if he’d temporarily lost his mind in taking this young red-haired beauty to bed then Dante heartily welcomed the state. She was the first really good thing that had happened to him in ages, and he wasn’t about to question his good fortune.
The intoxicating feminine scent of her body had already taken up residence in his blood, and it thrummed with wanting her. The arresting sight of that rippling blanket of fiery hair on the silk cream pillow behind her head made a stirring, ravishing picture that he would not soon forget. Now, as his hands eagerly caressed the smooth, slender contours of Anna’s body, the breathless gasps she emitted made him blind to any other sensation but their wild and heady mutual desire. He was all but desperate to plunge inside her, to forget everything except the unrestrained thundering joy of the chemistry that had exploded between them from almost the first glance, to relegate the darkness that had recently threatened to suffocate him, to the shadows.
Sensing her stiffen a little as he explored her heat with his fingers, Dante rose up to cup and stroke her face. A duty that should have been at the forefront of his dazzled mind suddenly stabbed at his conscience.
‘I’m sorry, Anna…I should protect you. Is that what you are concerned about? ‘
‘It’s okay,’ she sighed, dark eyes shy. ‘I’m protected already. I’m on the pill.’
For an indeterminate amount of time Dante got lost in her wide fire-lit stare, and then he came to and kissed her. The caress seemed to gentle her. Then, his blood flowing with increasing desire and demand, slowly, care fully, he drove himself deep inside her. The heat that exploded around him was incredible.
Anna’s sherry-brown eyes smouldered and brightened at the same time, but Dante had not missed the momentary flash of apprehension in her beautiful glance either. Too aroused and aching to wonder about it for long, he felt his body naturally assume the age-old rhythm that would take him to the destination and release he longed for…a destination that could and would free him for a while from the merciless torment that had deluged him when his mother had breathed her last laboured breath in his arms. Instead of grief and misery, ecstasy and bliss would be his. And for a blessed short time, at least, all the hurt would be swept away.
His strength of purpose all but overwhelmed Anna as she watched him move over her, his arrow-straight hips slamming into hers as his loving became ever more intense, ever more voracious. By instinct and by desire she wound her long legs round his back, until he was so deep inside her that she felt as if her body no longer existed just as one. Instead, she and he had become a single entity, with two hearts beating wildly in tandem and mind, body and spirit in stunning accord. She had given herself to him without doubt that it was the right thing. destined, even.
Would it scare him to know that she thought that? A girl he had just met, to whom he probably wouldn’t even give the time of day normally?
In the soft darkness that seemed to be growing ever lighter as Anna’s eyes grew more accustomed to it his smooth muscles rippled like warm steel beneath her trembling, caressing fingers. His breath was harshly ragged as he alternately devoured her lips and then, with that same hot, tormenting mouth, moved lower to caress her breasts. He suckled the rigid aching tips in turn, and Anna couldn’t withhold the heated moan that broke free. It was as though her very womb rejoiced when he touched and caressed her.
When he rose up again to capture her lips in another hotly exploring and intimate kiss, something inside her started irrevocably to unravel, to spiral dizzyingly out of control. At first, because she was nervous of being so vulnerable and exposed in front of him, Anna tensed, trying to stem the sensation. But at that same moment she stared up at him, to find the corners of his oh-so-sensuous lips lifting in what might have well been a quietly knowing smile, and she completely gave up trying to control what was happening.
Instead, she allowed the fierce, elemental power of the tide that swept through her to take her where it willed. She was scarcely able to steal a breath as the heart-racing journey commandingly held sway. It was like freefalling over a hundred-foot waterfall. Feeling stunned, she didn’t know if her mind or her heart raced more. Tears surged helplessly and she bit her lip to quiet the sounds that inevitably arose inside her throat.
Anna knew then that she was changed for ever by what had just occurred. Even her mother, with all her tenderly given advice, could not have prepared her for the powerful emotions that flooded her at surrendering herself to this man. Her gaze met his in genuine wonder. Moving even deeper inside her, his hard glistening body pinned her to the bed, keeping her there for long pulsating seconds. The blue-grey eyes that were so reminiscent of a restless stormy sea now scorched her as he silently surveyed her. The raw feeling and emotion he unwittingly revealed ripped achingly through Anna’s heart.
Even though they were engaged in the most intimate act of all, he still seemed so isolated and alone. Like a lighthouse, with nothing but the sea surrounding it. She longed to be able to swim to him and reach him. But then, with an echoing shout that sounded as though it had been dragged up from the depths of his soul, a shudder went through him, and he stilled. Scalding heat invaded her.
‘Anna…’ he rasped, clasping her face between his hands and shaking his head as though she was an enigma he’d never resolve.
When he laid his head between her breasts, Anna rubbed away her tears and then enfolded him in her arms, stroking the impossibly soft fair hair almost as though he were a hurt child in need of love and care.
‘It will be all right,’ she soothed softly. ‘Whatever’s happened to make you so sad, it will pass given time. I truly believe that. One day soon you’ll start to enjoy life again.’
‘If you know that, then you have access to the kind of faith that’s a million light years away from where I am right now. And if my life runs true to form, it’ll probably stay a million light years away.’
His warm breath skimmed her tender exposed skin like a lover blowing a kiss, while at the same time the shadow of beard covering his hard jaw lightly abraded her. But it was the utter desolation she heard in his gruffly velvet voice that disturbed Anna.
‘You mustn’t give up,’ she urged, sliding her hands either side of his sculpted high cheekbones to make him look up at her.
Although he was surprised by her words, he couldn’t disguise his anguish. ‘Don’t waste your reassurances on me, Anna. I’m okay. I’ll survive… I always do.’
‘You don’t think life can be better than just surviving? ‘
‘For you, angel, I hope it can be. You deserve it—you really do.’
‘Sad things, bad things have happened to me too,’ she offered shyly. ‘Apart from childhood stuff. After a couple of years of doing jobs I hated I found one I really liked and excelled at. But I lost that post when some ruthless hotel magnate bought out my previous employers and installed his own staff. I didn’t let myself be sad about it for long, though. I had no choice but to pick myself up and face the unknown. Luckily fate brought me here, to the Mirabelle. Sometimes help arrives when you most need it, you know?’
‘Perhaps it does if your conduct has warranted it.’
‘I wish you could tell me what’s happened to make you feel so low. I thought—I thought perhaps because you were wearing black you might have just lost someone?’
Breathing silently for a while Dante didn’t speak. Then he sighed. ‘I already told you I’m not the unburdening kind. But I don’t feel low right now, cara… How could I, lying here in your arms, hearing your heart beat beneath my cheek, having just enjoyed the pleasures and consolation of your beautiful body?’
Hot colour poured into Anna’s cheeks. ‘If I’ve brought you some comfort then I’m happy. But I think it’s time I went. I really should get back to my room and get some sleep…I’ve got to make an early start in the morning.’
‘So working in the bar isn’t your only job?’
‘No. I do a bit of everything. I’m learning the trade, so it’s great. It’s a small family-run hotel and we all muck in. In the mornings I’m a chambermaid.’ She dimpled shyly.
‘Stay.’ Winding his fingers possessively round a spiralling length of her vivid burnished hair, Dante raised it tenderly to his lips. ‘I want you to stay until morning. Would you do that for me, Anna? I can’t promise you more than this one night, but I promise that I’ll hold you close until the dawn comes up… If that’s enough…if you’re willing to accept just that…will you stay? ‘
Five years later
Anna flew into the large hotel kitchen, hurriedly unbuttoning her raincoat as she scanned the busy room for Luigi, the head chef. Defying the stereotype that proclaimed all good chefs should be on the large side, he was tall and thin, with a pointy chin and an abundance of curly black hair with threads of silver tied back in a ponytail. She found him straight away, the back of his chef’s whites towards her as he weighed ingredients at one of the scrubbed steel counters, whistling an aria from a well-known opera.
‘Did the produce arrive?’ she asked breathlessly. ‘I spoke to the manager at the deli and he told me it had already left in the van. Is it here? ‘
Turning round to acknowledge her, the first thing Luigi did was to look her up and down, then wag his finger. ‘Have you eaten breakfast this morning? My guess is that you haven’t, and yet you run around at a hundred miles an hour as if you can exist on fresh air alone!’
‘As it happens I had a croissant at the deli while I was waiting to talk to the manager.’
Crossing her arms over her damp rain-spattered coat, Anna challenged him to disbelieve her. It was sweet that he took such an interest in her welfare and what she ate, but she was no longer the naive twenty-four-year-old she’d been when she first came to the hotel. She was thirty-two, in charge of her own destiny, and the assistant manager to boot!
‘A croissant, eh? And how do you expect to survive on such a poor substitute for food as that until lunch-time? A croissant is nothing but air too!’
‘It wasn’t just air. It had apricot and custard in it, and it was extremely filling and very nice.’ Sighing patiently, Anna let her rose-tinted lips naturally form a smile. ‘Now, will you please answer my question about the produce delivery? Anita’s expecting an important delegation for lunch today, and everything has to be just perfect.’
Luigi threw up his hands dramatically. ‘And you believe it won’t be? You should know by now that Luigi delivers nothing but perfection! ‘
‘You’re right. I do know that.’
‘And, yes, the delivery has arrived—and the black olives are excellent as usual.’
‘What a relief. So everything is fine, then? I mean, there aren’t any problems? ‘
With her gaze swinging round towards Cheryl, who was the sous chef, and the three young kitchen assistants scurrying busily about the kitchen, Anna included them all in her question. She hadn’t been made assistant manager without developing an ability to notice everything—from the mundane to the much more important—and she was very keen for all to be well.
Anita and Grant, the hotel’s owners, had always prided themselves on running a tight ship, but an extremely friendly one too. They cared about their staff. That was why Anna had stayed on. And when she’d fallen pregnant they hadn’t said she had to leave. Instead, the couple had been unstinting in their support of her, seeing her potential and insisting she occupy the charming two-bedroom apartment in the basement of the hotel as part of her remuneration for working there. They had also helped her find a reliable and decent local nursery for her baby, and encouraged her to take an online management course with a view to promoting her and helping her to earn a better salary. Consequently, Anna was fiercely loyal as well as immensely grateful to the couple.
‘Everything’s fine in the kitchen, Anna.’ Cheryl nodded, but then the slim, pretty blonde bit down anxiously on her lip and continued, ‘Except we couldn’t help wondering why Anita and Grant had a delegation from one of the most well-known hotel chains in the country coming here for lunch. Can you tell us anything about it?’
Anna’s insides cartwheeled at the question. This afternoon the couple who owned the hotel had scheduled a meeting with her to discuss something important, and all last night and early this morning, as she’d got her daughter Tia ready for kindergarten, she’d been fretting about what the subject might be. The charming little hotel in its smart Georgian building was situated in a very desirable corner of Covent Garden, but Anna wasn’t oblivious to the fact that the country was plunged deep into a recession and reservations and consequently takings were definitely down.
Were they going to be bought out by a more commercial hotel giant, and as a consequence would she lose a job she loved again? And not just her job this time, but her home too? It hardly bore thinking about.
But now, seeing the obvious anxiety on not just Cheryl’s but on the other staff members’ faces too, she knew she had a duty to reassure them.
‘To be absolutely honest with you I know nothing about it. My advice to you all would be to just concentrate on your work and not waste time on speculation. It won’t help. If there’s anything concerning us that we need to know, you can be sure we’ll all get to hear about it soon. Now, I must get on. I’ve got to relieve Jason on Reception. He’s standing in for Amy, who’s phoned in sick.’
Time dragged interminably slowly as the hotel chain’s delegation of three enjoyed the superb three-course lunch Luigi and his staff had prepared. Afterwards the two men and their female colleague were closeted in a meeting with Anita, Grant and their son Jason, the manager, for two and a half hours. Anna had never been a clock-watcher, but that afternoon she was.
It was a quarter to five by the time the phone rang on Reception to invite her into Jason’s office for the promised meeting with him and his parents. In the meantime, Linda, the girl who did the late shift on the desk, had turned up, and now sat beside Anna powdering her nose.
Standing outside the manager’s office, Anna smoothed her hands nervously down over her smart navy skirt, captured a stray auburn tendril that had come adrift from her ponytail, tucked it back into her faux ivory clip and then rapped briefly on the door. Greeted by three identically reassuring smiles, she nonetheless sensed immediately that all was not well.
‘Dear Anna. Come and sit down, my love.’
The tiny brunette with the stylish elfin haircut, and the smooth, unlined face that belied the fact she was only a year away from the big sixty, welcomed her warmly, as usual.
‘Firstly, you’ll be pleased to know that the lunch Luigi prepared for our visitors today went extremely well. They were very impressed.’
‘The man can certainly cook,’ chipped in Grant, Anita’s handsome silver-haired husband. ‘You could almost forgive him for having an ego the size of an elephant!’
Anna immediately deduced he was nervous, and she perched on the edge of her seat, wishing her mouth wasn’t suddenly so sickeningly dry, and that her stomach hadn’t sunk as heavily as a giant boulder thrown into the sea. Searching for reassurance, her dark eyes met Jason’s. The tall, slim young man whose features were a male version of his elfin mother’s tried for a smile, but instead it came off as a resigned grimace. That was the moment when the alarm bells clanged deafeningly loud for Anna.
‘So…’ Her hands linking together nervously in her lap, she leaned forward even farther in her chair. ‘What was the delegation from that commercial hotel chain doing here? Are we in trouble, or something?’
Anita started to speak, but Grant quickly took over.
‘Yes, love.’ He sighed, pulling a handkerchief out of his suit trousers to lightly mop his brow. ‘Serious financial trouble, I’m afraid. Like many other small businesses, the recession’s dealt us a heavy blow, and I’m sure you’re aware that we’ve been losing money hand over fist. You’ve noticed how the reservations have fallen? It’s really only the regulars that have stayed loyal to us. If we’re to hold our own against some of the more popular hotels we need to reinvest and refurbish, but with the coffers practically empty, and banks refusing loans left right and centre, it’s not likely to happen. Consequently, we’ve had no choice but to try and get some other form of help.’
‘Does that mean that you’re going to sell the hotel? ‘ There was such a rush of blood to her head that Anna scarcely registered her boss’s answer. All she could think of right then was Tia… How was she going feed and clothe her child if she lost her job? More urgently, where were they going to live?
‘We were offered a buyout, but we haven’t accepted the offer yet. We told the delegation that the hotel had been in the family for three generations and we needed some time to think things over.’ Anita’s usually sunny smile was painfully subdued. ‘We have to get back to them by the end of the week. If we do agree to the buyout then unfortunately it means that none of us stay. They’ll want to refurbish and give the place their own look, run it with their own staff. I’m desperately sorry, Anna, but that’s our position.’
She was struck silent by the news she’d just heard, but her mind was racing at a hundred miles an hour. Then, because she was also devoted to and protective of the interests of the family that had been so good to her and Tia, Anna forced a reassuring smile to her numbed lips.
‘It’s a difficult situation you’re in,’ she quietly acknowledged, ‘and it’s hardly your fault that there’s a recession. The staff—including myself—will all eventually find other jobs, but what will you guys do? The hotel’s been in your family for so long, and you love it…I know you do.’
‘It’s kind of you to be so concerned, love.’ The big shoulders that strained Grant’s suit jacket lifted in a shrug. ‘I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but we’ll be fine. We’ve got each other, and that’s what matters most in the end, isn’t it…? The people you love, I mean.’
Not usually given to expressing his feelings in public, he squeezed Anita’s hand. ‘And we’ll do whatever we can to help you find another flat, Anna. We certainly won’t be walking out this door until we know you and Tia are safely settled somewhere. As for jobs. Well, with all the experience and qualifications you’ve gained these past few years, some grateful hotel will eagerly snap you up. You’re a lovely girl and a complete asset. they’ll quickly learn that.’
‘So you’ll let us all know by the end of the week what you’ve decided?’
‘Perhaps sooner… Anita, Jason and I plan to spend the evening mulling things over. As soon as we’ve decided we’ll let you and the rest of the staff know the decision we’ve reached.’
Getting to his feet, Grant sent Anna a friendly broad smile. ‘It’s five o’clock, and it’s time you were running along to get that little angel of yours from aftercare at kindergarten, isn’t it?’
Glancing down at the slim silver-linked watch on her wrist, Anna shot up from her seat. She hated to be late collecting Tia, and as always ached to see her child and learn about her day. Tonight, when she was in effect in limbo about their future, she would make an extra fuss of her, and hold her even tighter before putting her to bed.
CHAPTER THREE
STUDYING the sunlit view of the Thames from his Westminster apartment window, Dante suddenly moved impatiently away, jettisoning his mobile onto the bed. He’d just flown back from a business trip to New York, was feeling fuzzy-headed and tired, and yet the conversation he’d just had with a business friend of his had definitely acted like a triple dose of strong black coffee injected straight into his bloodstream.
The Mirabelle Hotel… It was a name he’d never forgotten. Even after five years. The family who owned it were apparently in dire straits financially, and had been forced to consider a buyout from the commercial hotel chain that his friend Eddie was on the board of. The place was situated in a prime location in central London, and as far as Eddie was concerned it should have been a done deal. But he’d just heard that the owners had quite unbelievably rejected the offer. They had some old-fashioned notion that the business had to stay in the family, come what may.
Eddie had verbalised his astonishment at the number of people who let their hearts rule their head in business. ‘Will they ever learn? How about it, Dante?’ he’d asked. ‘Fancy giving it a shot? I don’t doubt the place is a potential goldmine.’
He had ended the call after agreeing to meet with his friend for a drink later, but Eddie’s parting remark had set Dante’s mind racing. That incredible night he’d stayed at that particular hotel had changed his life. A veritable angel had motivated him to want to do some good in the world instead of just simply taking what he believed his hard work entitled him to. Not only had his aims become less ruthless and driven, but he had discovered a much more exciting avenue, and a way of doing business that far exceeded what he had achieved before in terms of personal satisfaction. It would definitely have had his mother cheering him from the sidelines if she’d lived to see the changes he’d made.
Although he was on the board of several blue chip companies, and still in mergers and acquisitions, Dante had sold off most of his businesses and now specialised in helping family-run concerns make their businesses more viable. He’d also reverted to his mother’s surname, instead of the British one he’d adopted when he’d first started out in business here. Once again he was Dante Romano, and he had to admit it felt good to be much more authentic. Friends like Eddie still called him Dan, but that was okay. It was a fair enough shortening of Dante.
The Mirabelle Hotel…
Dante flopped down onto the king-sized bed with its opulent aubergine counterpane and picked up his phone. What had happened to the titian-haired beauty he’d spent the night with? Anna Bailey. The memory of her slid into his mind like the diaphanous caress of sensuous silk. Closing his eyes, he could almost taste her. He could even recall her perfume…something musky, with hints of orange and patchouli in it. It had been in her long flowing hair, and there had been traces on her milk-and-honey skin too.
His reflection deepening, Dante arrestingly recalled the sumptuously erotic, quivering pink mouth that he’d ached to plunder from almost the first moment he’d encountered it. The experience had been an utter revelation…as though it couldn’t have been more right or perfect. For an endless-seeming moment he’d been dizzy with longing for her—his lovely lady of the night, who’d reached out to rescue him when all he could see ahead was blinding darkness.
His eyelids snapped open. Of all the businesses he could hear about that were in trouble…why the Mirabelle? One thing was certain—he couldn’t let such an uncanny opportunity pass him by without at least checking it out…
She’d had another sleepless night. Duvet and pillow flung in frustration on the floor during the night. Her bed had become a taunting enemy instead of the safe, comforting haven she craved. And when she’d finally got up, Anna had uncharacteristically snapped at Tia as well.
As soon as she’d seen the child’s luminous blue-grey eyes sparkle with tears across from her at the breakfast table, she’d immediately wanted to kick herself. Drawing the little girl urgently onto her lap, she’d kissed and hugged her and told her about a hundred times how sorry she was. Mummy didn’t mean to shout. She was just a little bit stressed, she’d explained.
‘What does distressed mean? ‘ Tia had questioned, absently, playing with a long curling tendril of Anna’s unbound auburn hair.
Perhaps her daughter had unwittingly stumbled upon the truth of what she was feeling? She was distressed.
‘I’ll explain when you come home from school, darling,’ she’d hedged, praying the child would forget to ask. It wasn’t something a four-year-old should be remotely acquainted with, to Anna’s mind. Childhood should be joyful and carefree… even if her own had been a million miles away from such an idyll.
The Cathcarts had told Anna that they’d turned down the offer of a buyout from the big hotel chain. So when she’d entered the office the following morning to discover that her employers were considering a fresh offer—this one from an independent source who had been told about them by one of the delegation from the hotel chain—her insides had mimicked the nail-biting ascent and descent of a frantic rollercoaster ride for the second time. Once more the possibility of losing her job and home loomed worryingly large.
‘Your parents said that an interested investor wants to help them improve profitability and modernise. Can you explain exactly what this means?’ Anna had asked concernedly as she left the owners’ office to walk with Jason to his.
‘Don’t look so worried, Anna. It’s good news. Major investment is just what the Mirabelle needs. What we’re hoping is that this guy will be interested enough to invest a large chunk of his own money in the business to help turn it around. He’ll be the majority shareholder, but he won’t own it outright. I’ve been checking out his record and it’s quite impressive, to put it mildly. His interests are truly international, but his main concern is helping family-run businesses become more profitable. If we accept an offer from him to invest, it means that we stay running the hotel under his guidance and expertise. We’ll have the chance to really take things to another level…even in the recession.’
Jason opened the door for Anna to precede him as they took their coffee into his cramped, cluttered office. Pushing some papers aside on a desk that scarcely had a corner free of paper debris, he left his mug of coffee on a stained cork coaster. An air of bubbling excitement underlaid his usually level tone.
‘When he goes into a business with a view to helping it perform better,’ he continued, ‘he takes a good hard look at how it’s being run and then advises on the changes that will make it more efficient and profitable. He particularly specialises in helping to resolve any conflicts that might be preventing people from working successfully together.’
Anna’s brow creased. ‘There aren’t any conflicts amongst us, though, are there? Unless you mean Luigi’s tendency to lord it over the others in the kitchen… They do get a bit fed up with him from time to time, but aren’t all head chefs a bit like that? Egotistic and dramatic, I mean.’
‘Generally I think that we all get on great. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t room for improvement.’ As he paced the floor, it appeared as if Jason’s enthusiasm was hard to contain. ‘Unaired resentments can fester… we all know that. And this guy is a real people person. We thoroughly checked him out before inviting him over for a meeting. Apparently one of the first things he does is to interview everyone to discover how they feel about their job. He passionately believes that their attitude contributes to how well they work, and he has a unique reputation for getting staff and management to work more successfully together. The best thing of all is that the family get to stay doing what they love. We don’t have to just sell up and go. Who knows? If the hotel starts to make a real profit, we might eventually be able to buy it back completely. The staff will remain too of course. It means you won’t have to search for another job, Anna, isn’t that great? Having someone like this Dante Romano guy invest his money in the hotel and take a look at how we can improve things could be the best opportunity we’ve had in ages!’
‘And what’s the pay-off for this man? I mean…what’s in it for him besides making a profit? I doubt that he’s going to do all this out of the goodness of his heart.’
She couldn’t help it, but Anna wasn’t entirely convinced. It all sounded too good to be true. Perhaps her nature wasn’t as trusting as it could be, but then bruising experience had taught her to be alert to the glossily wrapped Christmas present that contained nothing but an empty shoebox.
The earnest dark-haired young man before her in the charcoal-grey suit that was showing signs of fraying at the edges of its cuffs abruptly stopped pacing.
‘Of course there’s a pay-off for him, Anna. He’s a businessman! But his interest in helping us sounds perfectly genuine. I know you’re only being protective of Mum and Dad but they’re experienced hoteliers, don’t forget. They won’t agree to anything that remotely smacks of a scam or a rip-off. Yes, this guy might become the main shareholder—but he won’t be running the business. we will. Plus, his policy is to take a longer-term view of situations, so he won’t be in a hurry to just look at what he can get out of the business and then head for the hills.’
‘You sound as though you believe this is the answer to all your family’s prayers, Jason.’
It did indeed seem the ideal solution in terms of enabling them all to stay put, but Anna would rather hunt for another job and flat elsewhere if it meant that Grant and Anita wouldn’t be out of pocket and the couple would have the means to start a good life again somewhere else. What if it really was in their best interests for them to sell the Mirabelle to a big commercial hotel giant?
‘Nothing’s been decided yet, Anna.’ Compounding her guilt at being sceptical, Jason sounded subdued. ‘But Romano is coming for lunch, and after he’s eaten we’ll have a proper meeting to thrash things out. Hopefully we’ll be able to report back on what’s been decided later on that afternoon. Would you mind going to talk to Luigi, to make sure he’s got everything he needs to impress our visitor with his menu?’
‘Of course.’
Carrying what remained of her half-drunk coffee to the door, Anna flashed him a smile to make up for her less than enthusiastic response earlier, but her stomach still churned at the prospect of the unknown changes that lay ahead for them all. She paused to glance back at the Cathcarts’ preoccupied son, guessing that he probably saw the chance of working with this Romano chap as something that would enhance his reputation and ability—assets that were sometimes overshadowed by his much more confident and experienced father.
‘I just want you to know that I’ll do everything I can to help you and your parents, Jason. I love this hotel too, and I know it’s been a very worrying time for all of you.’
‘Thanks, Anna…I’ve always known I can count on you.’
The memories crashed in on Dante the instant he walked through the glass-panelled entrance into the cosily old-fashioned lobby, with its chintz armchairs and worn brown chesterfields.
After that incredible night with Anna he’d left the hotel in the early hours of the morning to jump in a cab and catch a flight to New York. His mother’s death had plunged him into a tunnel of despair for a frighteningly long time. It had taken a good year or more for him to be able to function anywhere near normal again because, disturbingly, his work and everything he’d achieved had become utterly meaningless. Life had only started to improve when the warm memory of Anna’s tenderness and his mother’s unfailing belief that he was a much better man than the world suspected broke through the walls of his grief and his self-imposed isolation and helped him start to entertain the possibility of a very different, much more fulfilling future.
That was when Dante had decided to change his driven, selfish approach to something far more wholesome.
The Cathcarts were a delightful couple, with admirably solid values when it came to business and family. But Dante, although charmed by their unstinting hospitality and the superlative lunch, sensed that some of those solid values were a bit too entrenched in the past and needed to be brought up to date.
At lunch, his cool gaze assessed as much as it could as they talked, including the worn velvet hangings at the stately Georgian dining room windows, the tarnished silver cutlery and the slightly old-fashioned uniforms of the waiting staff. Afterwards he was invited to the Cathcarts’ office to discuss the nuts and bolts of an investment.
As the fragrant, elegant Anita Cathcart poured him some coffee—at Dante’s nod adding cream and sugar—he sat back in the comfortable leather chair, loosened his silk tie a little and relaxed. The hotel was in an absolutely prime location and could—as Eddie had foreseen—potentially be a goldmine. Because of lack of funds and the large debt they had accrued with the bank, it was clear the Cathcarts weren’t able to make the best of their incredible asset, and that was where Dante came in.
‘We’ll get started soon, Mr Romano. We’re just waiting for our assistant manager to join us. She’s more like family than an employee, and we’d like her to be in on what we decide. She’ll be along any minute now.’
Jason, the Cathcarts’ slightly built son and manager, smiled diffidently at Dante as he sat down opposite him at the meeting table. He was clutching a pen and a spiral notebook and his hand shook a little. What was the story with him? Dante wondered. Was the manager’s role too big an ask for him, or was it just that he struggled to assert himself under his parents’ guardianship of the hotel?
‘Was she informed about the meeting?’
‘Yes…of course. It’s just that she—’
‘Then she should be here on time, like everyone else.’
His chastising glance encompassed them all, but Dante nonetheless tempered it with a trace of a smile. He heard the door behind him open and turned expectantly. A woman with hair the same hue as a bright russet apple stepped inside, bringing with her the faint but stirring scent of oranges and patchouli.
His thoughts careened to an abrupt halt…like a driver applying the emergency brake before hitting a wall. He stared in shock. Anna…dear God, she still worked here?
‘I’m so sorry I’m late,’ she breathed, porcelain skin flushing. ‘I was—’
The startled leap in her sherry-brown eyes told Dante she recognised him. His heart—which had all but stalled—pumped a little harder as he realised he’d been genuinely afraid she might have forgotten him. What a blow that would have been to his pride, when out of all the women he’d seen over the years she was the one that haunted him…
‘Mr Romano,’ Grant Cathcart was saying, ‘I’d like to introduce you to our stalwart assistant manager…Anna Bailey.’
Rising automatically to his feet, Dante extended his hand, praying hard that his voice wouldn’t desert him. Anna’s palm was fragile and slightly chilled as it slid into his. Their gazes locked as though magnetized, and though he sensed her tremble, inside he believed that he trembled more.
‘Miss Bailey…I’m very pleased to meet you,’ he heard himself announce.
‘The feeling is mutual, Mr—Mr Romano,’ she replied politely.
Her warm velvet voice bathed his senses in liquid honey. Arresting memories of their unforgettable night together came pouring back in a disturbing heated rush. Realising that his hand still covered hers, Dante reluctantly withdrew it.
‘Why don’t you come and sit down, Anna love? ‘ Anita invited. ‘There’s plenty of coffee in the pot if you’d like some.’
‘I’m fine, thanks,’ Anna murmured distractedly.
As Dante watched her, she moved like a sleepwalker to a seat at the opposite side of the table, next to Jason, and he didn’t miss the spark of warmth in the other man’s dark eyes as he silently acknowledged her. Was something going on there? A hot flash of jealousy hit Dante a glancing blow as he resumed his seat.
‘Well, if everybody’s ready, we’ll make a start, shall we? ‘ With a respectful glance in their visitor’s direction, Grant Cathcart organised his notes and prepared to address the meeting.
Dante Romano. No wonder she’d never been able to find him! What had instigated the name-change? she wondered. Underneath, was he still as ruthless and cutthroat as it had said in the newspaper reports she’d read when she’d been searching for him? But what did it matter when it had already been decided by the Cathcarts that he was going to be their saviour?
As well as investing a substantial amount of money in the Mirabelle, Dante Romano was taking the hotel, its owners and its staff firmly under his wing. Being satisfied that Anita and Grant were completely happy with the arrangement was one thing. Only time would tell if Anna would be equally happy. There was a very big—in fact a huge hurdle she had to cross before then.
Shaking her head, she emitted a small groan as she added chopped up red and green peppers to the stir-fry she was busy cooking for herself and Tia.
She’d half believed she was hallucinating when she’d walked into the office to find Dan, or Dante as he called himself now, sitting there. And she’d had such a jolt when his incredible winter-coloured eyes had bored into hers. In those electrifying few seconds the world could have ended, and she hadn’t been able to drag her hypnotised gaze away.
Five years ago she’d never even asked him his full name. When he’d asked her to stay with him for the night but not to expect anything more she’d agreed—and she’d promised herself she wouldn’t speculate on where he would go or what he would do when he left her, even if it ultimately meant he was going from her arms to someone else’s.
Consoling herself that she’d helped comfort him in his hour of need, and that no matter how emotionally painful it was it would have to be enough, Anna had never intended to try and track him down afterwards. But when she’d found herself pregnant with his child she’d reasoned that she owed it to him to let him know. However, discovering that the suite’s occupant Dan Masterson was a veritable ‘shark’ in the world of international business, who didn’t care who he brought down in his empire-building quest, had definitely given her pause. He might have been tender with Anna that night they’d spent together, and he might have been troubled, but could she knowingly risk inflicting such a driven ruthless man on her child?
She’d decided no, she couldn’t. Besides, she’d definitely received the impression from her one-night lover that he wasn’t interested in a relationship, so why would he be interested in the fact that he’d left his one-time-only lover pregnant? she’d reasoned.
Leading up to that night five years ago she’d been working so hard, what with all the different jobs she did at the hotel—sometimes even working double shifts back to back—and because she’d been extremely tired, she’d absent-mindedly forgotten to take one of her daily contraceptive pills. It had only dawned on Anna to check when early-morning nausea had become a worrying recurrence.
Some months after Tia had been born she’d revised her decision not to get in touch with Dan and decided to try once more to locate him. It had been as though he had vanished. The only information about him she’d been able to glean was stuff from the past. There had been nothing to indicate what he was doing nearly eighteen months after they’d met.
From the living room came the delighted chuckle of her small daughter as she knocked down the building blocks she’d had as a toddler that she’d been happily shaping into a wobbling tower for the past ten minutes or so. A wave of sadness and terror deluged her mother all at once. What would Dan—or Dante, as she should call him now—think when he found out that their passionate night together all those years ago had made him a father? How poignant that he hadn’t had the privilege of knowing his own delightful daughter. Anna had no doubt that it would have enhanced his life in a myriad different ways. But what could she have done when it had seemed as though he didn’t exist any more?
With genuine regret she squeezed her eyes shut, then quickly opened them again. Her terror came from the fact that she knew he was a very rich and influential man indeed—rich enough to invest in a major share of the hotel that was the means of her employment and her place to live. How would it reflect on Anna if Dante’s was the controlling share? What if he decided she wasn’t up to her job—or, worse still, that he wanted to try and take Tia away from her? A man as wealthy as him must have access to all kinds of power…particularly legal power.
Abruptly switching off the burner beneath the wooden-handled wok, Anna wrapped her arms protectively round her middle as she crossed the tiled kitchen floor to examine the collage of baby and toddler photographs of Tia that were framed on the wall there. Behind her, the suddenly ringing telephone made her jump.
‘Hello?’
‘Anna? It’s me—Dante. I’m still in the hotel. You rushed off rather quickly after the meeting and I think we need to talk. I believe you have a flat downstairs—can I come down and see you?’
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