‘I am his friend,’ Jess corrected her.
‘So you are not his mistress?’
‘No.’ Jess frowned, puzzled by Angelo’s mother’s distinctly unfriendly attitude. She glanced questioningly at Drago. ‘I could come back another time, if you think it would be better.’
He shook his head. ‘I brought you here to talk to Angelo. Your name is the only word he has uttered, so perhaps he will respond to you.’ He looked at his aunt. ‘I want you to go home for a few hours. Fico is waiting to take you. You need to get some rest and have something to eat. You will not be any help to Angelo if you collapse,’ he added, countering his aunt’s attempt to argue.
Despite her obvious reluctance to leave her son, his Aunt Dorotea nodded as if she was used to her nephew taking charge. ‘You will call me if there is any change?’
Drago’s voice softened. ‘Of course.’
He escorted his aunt from the room, leaving Jess alone with Angelo. She sat by the bed, watching him, just as she had done with Daniel when one of the care workers from the home had taken her to visit him. Angelo looked so young and defenceless. It was agonising to think that he might not survive. Her throat ached, but she swallowed her tears and leaned closer to take hold of his hand. It felt warm, and that filled her with hope.
‘Hi, Angelo…’ she said huskily. ‘What have you done to yourself?’ It was difficult to know what to say, but after a moment’s hesitation she continued, ‘The guys missed you when you didn’t show up for work. Gaz said you make the best tea. We’ve nearly finished the Connaught Road job. I’ve just got to fit new skirting boards.’
She felt comfortable talking about work and kept up a flow of chatter, although her heart sank when Angelo did not make any kind of response.
A slight sound from behind her alerted her to the fact that Drago had come back to the room and was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his broad chest. Immediately Jess felt self-conscious. ‘My coming here hasn’t done any good,’ she told him flatly. ‘He hasn’t shown the slightest flicker of reaction.’
‘We can’t expect a miracle. All we can do is keep trying.’ Drago walked over to the bed and stared at his cousin’s motionless form. He knew it was stupid to feel disappointed that Angelo had shown no sign he had heard Jess. He had put too much faith in her. But, Dio, he was desperate—and he had hoped for a miracle, he acknowledged heavily.
‘I overheard some of what you were saying to him,’ he said abruptly. ‘I admit I still find it hard to imagine that are you a decorator. You don’t look the type to do manual work.’
She shrugged. ‘I’m stronger than I look.’
Studying her slender figure, Drago was tempted to disagree. She seemed more upset by seeing Angelo than he had expected. Her delicate features looked almost pinched, and earlier he had watched her blinking back tears. Her eyes looked huge in her pale face and there was a vulnerability about her that was unexpected.
If it wasn’t for the phone call he had received a few minutes ago from the private investigator he might have been taken in by her. But the confirmation that she was a petty crook who had been found guilty of fraud a few years ago increased his suspicion that she had used some underhand and possibly illegal means to get her grubby hands on his cousin’s inheritance fund. If necessary he was prepared to use equally underhanded methods to get the money back, Drago thought grimly.
JESS DRAGGED HER eyes from Drago, wishing she did not find him so unnerving. He had removed his leather jacket and she could not help noticing how his black silk shirt moulded his broad chest and clung to the ridges of his abdominal muscles. The contrast between his strong, powerful body and his cousin’s unconscious form emphasised the seriousness of Angelo’s condition.
She leaned closer to the bed and touched Angelo’s hand, which lay limply on top of the sheet. ‘I’ll carry on talking and perhaps I’ll get through to him.’
‘I think it’s unlikely anything will happen tonight,’ Drago said roughly.
He could not explain the fierce objection he felt to the sight of Jess holding his cousin’s hand. She had denied that they were lovers, but who knew what methods she had used to persuade Angelo to give her his inheritance fund? He had brought her to the hospital in the hope that Angelo would respond to her voice, but after hearing the information the private investigator had dug up about her he was impatient to demand some answers.
He glanced at his watch and saw that it was past midnight. He could not remember the last time he had slept and his brain ached.
‘I’ve arranged for a nurse to sit with Angelo for the rest of the night. You will come home with me, so that you can sleep, and we’ll return in the morning and try talking to him again.’
Jess stiffened. She disliked being in a hospital, with all the memories it evoked, but it was preferable to accompanying Drago to his home. The prospect of being alone with him made her heart lurch—although he might have a family, her mind pointed out.
‘Are you married?’ she asked abruptly. The speculative look he gave her made her feel uncomfortable, and she flushed.
‘No. Why do you ask?’
‘I just thought it wouldn’t be fair to disturb your wife—and children if you have any.’
‘Well, I don’t.’ His voice was suddenly terse.
‘Even so, I don’t mind staying here. I’ll sleep in the chair if I need to. Or I could find a hotel. There must be a hotel near to the hospital.’ Hopefully a budget one that wasn’t too expensive, Jess thought to herself.
Drago shook his head. ‘I have already asked my housekeeper to prepare a room for you.’ Seeing that she wanted to continue the argument, he said in a softer tone, ‘You are not going to reject my hospitality, are you, Jess? Having rushed you to Italy, the least I can do is offer you somewhere comfortable to stay.’
This was a man used to having his own way, Jess realised. Behind his persuasive smile and his sexy voice that brought her skin out in goosebumps she sensed an iron will. But in truth she was so tired that she could barely think straight. She had got up at six that morning—yesterday morning—she amended when she glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that she had been up for nearly nineteen hours. The idea of walking around a strange town looking for a hotel did not appeal.
‘All right,’ she murmured. ‘I’ll stay at your house for the rest of the night. Thank you.’
‘Good.’ Drago felt a spurt of satisfaction. Until he knew the truth about Jess Harper he wanted to know her whereabouts every second of the day and night, and while she was staying at his home she would be in his control.
They left the hospital by a back door to avoid the reporters still congregated at the main entrance. Jess leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes as the car sped away. Reaction to the events of the past few hours was setting in, and part of her still wondered if she was going to wake up and find her life was back to normal.
She must have dozed and woke with a start at the sound of Drago’s voice.
‘Wake up. We’ve crossed the bridge and we’re about to swap the car for a boat.’
She was startled. Her lashes flew upwards and she saw that they had arrived at a marina.
‘There are no roads on the islands that make up the historical city of Venice,’ Drago explained as he led the way along a jetty and jumped aboard a motorboat.
Jess viewed the gap between the jetty and the boat nervously, having no wish to miss her footing and fall into the water. But as she hesitated Drago clamped his hands around her waist and lifted her down onto the deck. The brief contact with his body sent a tremor through her, but she assured herself that she was simply reacting to the cool night air after the stifling warmth of the car.
He must have noticed her shiver, because he pulled off his jacket and handed it to her, saying roughly, ‘Here—put this round you.’
Not wanting to appear ungrateful, she draped the jacket over her shoulders. The leather was as soft as butter, and the silk lining still retained the heat from his body and the scent of his aftershave. Oh, hell, Jess thought ruefully, feeling her heart rate accelerate in response to his potent masculinity. He started the boat’s engine and as they moved away from the jetty her sense of apprehension grew. It had been a mistake to come to Italy with Drago, and an even greater mistake to have allowed him to talk her into agreeing to stay at his home, but bar diving over the side and swimming back to shore she had no choice but to go with him.
Her thoughts were distracted by the breathtaking sight of Venice in the moonlight. The Grand Canal wound through the city like a long black ribbon dappled with silver moonbeams, while the water at its edges reflected the golden lights streaming from the windows of the houses that lined the two banks.
‘What a beautiful building,’ Jess murmured as the boat drew steadily towards a vast, elegant house which had four tiers of arched windows and several balconies. ‘It looks like a medieval palace.’
‘That’s exactly what it is. It was built in the early fifteenth century by one of my ancestors and has belonged to the Cassari family since then.’
‘You’re kidding—right?’ Her smile faded when she realised Drago was serious.
‘The name Palazzo d’Inverno means Winter Palace—so named because traditionally the family lived here during the winter and spring, but spent the hot summer months at a house in the Italian Alps.’ Drago steered the boat alongside a wooden jetty and looped a rope around a bollard before jumping out. ‘Give me your hand,’ he ordered.
It was a fair leap onto the jetty so Jess reluctantly obeyed, feeling a tingling sensation like an electrical shock shoot up her arm when his fingers closed around hers.
‘Does Angelo live here?’ she asked, staring up at the magnificent house rather than meet Drago’s far too knowing gaze.
‘He has an apartment in one of the wings, and my mother and aunt have accommodation in another wing.’
Jess fell silent as she followed Drago along the stone walkway that ran beside this part of the canal. He led her up a flight of steps and through a huge, ornately carved front door. ‘I told the staff not to wait up,’ he explained as he ushered her into the quiet house. ‘They are all fond of Angelo and the past few days have been a strain for everyone.’
The entrance hall was vast, and their footsteps rang on the marble floor and on the sweeping staircase that wound up through the centre of the house.
‘This is your room,’ Drago announced at last, stopping at the far end of a long corridor. He opened the door and Jess could not restrain a startled gasp as she walked past him. The proportions of the room were breathtaking, and as she lifted her eyes to the ceiling high above she was amazed to see that it had been decorated with a series of frescoes depicting plump cherubs and figures that she guessed were characters from Roman mythology.
‘Thank heavens I don’t work as a decorator in Venice,’ she murmured. ‘How on earth did anyone get up there to paint such exquisite artwork?’
The bed was covered in a cobalt blue satin bedspread, and the floor-length curtains were made of the same rich material. Walking across the plush cream velvet carpet to the window, she stared down at the canal below and watched a gondola decorated with lanterns glide past.
‘I don’t understand why Angelo let me think he had no money or family,’ she said flatly. ‘Was it some kind of joke to him?’ She felt angry and hurt that Angelo had played her for a fool, but she was more furious that she had allowed herself to be duped. God, if she had learned anything from Seb surely it was never to trust anyone.
‘It doesn’t make sense to me, either.’
Alerted by a curious nuance in Drago’s tone, Jess spun round and found that he had come up silently behind her. Once again she was struck by his height and muscular physique, and as she lifted her eyes to his face she felt a flicker of unease at his grim expression.
‘I can think of no possible reason why he would have made up a story that he was destitute,’ he said in a hard voice. ‘My cousin is inherently honest. But I suspect that you are a liar, Jess Harper.’
‘Excuse me?’ She wondered if she had heard him correctly. At the hospital, when he had persuaded her to stay at his house, he had exerted an easy charm, but there was no hint of friendliness now in eyes that were as hard as shards of obsidian. ‘I’m not a liar,’ she said angrily.
‘In that case I assume you will tell me the truth about why you persuaded my cousin to give you a million pounds?’
Jess’s jaw dropped. ‘Angelo never gave me anything,’ she stammered. ‘In London he didn’t have a penny, and if I hadn’t paid for his food he would have starved.’ She pushed her hair back from her face with a trembling hand, feeling that she was sinking ever deeper into a nightmare. ‘This is crazy. I don’t understand anything. Why do you think Angelo gave me money—let alone such an incredible amount?’
‘Because he told his mother he had done so,’ Drago said coolly. ‘My aunt was concerned when she learned from Angelo’s financial adviser that he had withdrawn his entire inheritance fund from the bank. She asked him what he had done with the money and he said he had given it to you.’
Jess drew a sharp breath. ‘But he didn’t, I swear. I know nothing about any money.’
Drago’s eyes narrowed. He had expected her to deny it, but he was surprised by how convincing she sounded. Did he want to believe her because he was intrigued by her fey beauty? taunted a voice inside his head.
Dismissing the unwelcome thought, he said harshly, ‘I think you do. I also think you were fully aware of Angelo’s identity. I admit the situation is not clear to me yet, but I’m convinced that you somehow conned him into giving you a fortune. I don’t know how you did it, but I intend to find out—and I warn you that I will use every means available to me to make sure you repay the money.’
‘This is outrageous,’ Jess snapped, anger rapidly replacing her disbelief at Drago’s shocking accusation. ‘I don’t have to listen to this…this fantasy story you’ve concocted.’ She swung away from him and hurried over to the door, but his next words halted her in her tracks.
‘It’s not a fantasy that you were convicted of fraud a few years ago, is it?’
Shock ricocheted through Jess and the blood drained from her face. She did not hear Drago’s footsteps on the thick carpet, and she flinched when he caught hold of her arm and jerked her round to face him.
‘The private investigator I hired to look into your background found evidence of your criminal record, so don’t waste your time denying it.’
She shivered at the coldness in his black eyes. ‘It wasn’t what it seems,’ she muttered.
He ignored her and continued ruthlessly, ‘You were found guilty. It was only because you were seventeen at the time you committed the offence that you were ordered to carry out community service rather than receive a custodial sentence.’
Shame swept through Jess, even though she had nothing to feel ashamed of. The fraud charge had been a mistake, but no one had believed her. The evidence had been stacked against her—Seb had made sure of it, she thought bitterly. She had been found guilty of a crime she had unwittingly committed, set up by the man she had loved and who had told her he loved her.
The arrogant expression on Drago’s face made her wish she could crawl away and hide. She cringed when she recalled how she’d thought she had sensed a sexual chemistry between them. Now she knew that he had been watching her so closely because he believed she was a common criminal, not because he was attracted to her.
‘I know nothing about Angelo’s missing money,’ she insisted. ‘It isn’t fair to accuse me just because of something that happened years ago.’
To her surprise, Drago nodded. ‘You’re right—it’s not up to me to find out the truth. That’s the job of the police. And I am sure that when I hand you over to them tomorrow they will quickly establish whether you are innocent or guilty.’ His brows rose at the sound of her swiftly indrawn breath. ‘Now, why does the mention of the police cause you to look so worried, I wonder?’ he drawled.
‘It doesn’t,’ Jess lied.
She had nothing to hide, but the memory of when she had been arrested and the claustrophobic terror she had felt when she had been locked in a police cell made her tremble. On the rough estate where she had spent her early childhood the police had been mistrusted by many people, including her father, and she had grown up with an intrinsic wariness of authority.
Drago strolled over to the door. ‘Well, you’ve got a few hours to come up with an explanation about Angelo’s missing inheritance fund. Buonanotte, Jess. I’d try to get some sleep if I were you. You’re going to need your wits about you tomorrow.’
Jess stared at the door as he closed it behind him, feeling another jolt of shock when she heard a key turn in the lock. ‘Hey!’ Disbelief turned to anger as she tried the handle and found that it wouldn’t move. She hammered on the solid oak. ‘Let me out of here. You have no right to imprison me.’
‘My cousin’s missing a million pounds gives me every right’ came the curt reply. ‘By the way, you can make as much noise as you like—no one will hear you. My room is at the other end of the hall, and the staff quarters are on the other side of the house.’
If this was a crazy dream it would be helpful if she could wake up now, before she attempted her daring escape plan, Jess thought some twenty minutes later. But as she stood on the balcony outside her room the whisper of the cool night breeze on her face and the faint lapping sound of the water in the canal were very real. It was fortunate that her room was on the second storey of the house rather than the top floor, but the canal path below still looked a long way down and she almost lost her nerve.
But the prospect of being questioned by the police and having to try to convince them that she knew nothing about Angelo’s missing money filled her with dread. Drago clearly thought she had conned his cousin out of his inheritance fund, and because of her criminal record the police were likely to share his suspicions. The only person who could clear her name was Angelo, but until he regained consciousness she once again stood accused of something she had not done.
The image of Drago’s haughty expression flashed into her mind. How dared he imprison her in his house? Her spurt of temper steadied her nerves, and after checking that the sheets she had stripped from the bed and knotted together were tied securely to the balcony she climbed over the balustrade and began to inch down the makeshift rope. Thankfully it took her weight.
It was lucky she was so agile and had a head for heights. In her job she was used to climbing up and down scaffolding, but when she looked down and saw how far away the ground was she felt sick with terror. Deciding not to glance down again, she continued her cautious journey, buoyed by the thought that Drago Cassari was in for one hell of a surprise in the morning.
‘Leaving us so soon, Miss Harper?’ a familiar voice enquired smoothly.
Giving a startled cry, Jess lost her grip and fell. She closed her eyes, waiting to feel the impact of her body hitting the stone path, but instead two hands roughly grabbed hold of her and her fall was cushioned by Drago’s broad chest.
‘Santa Madonna! You crazy fool,’ he growled as he set her on her feet, fury blazing in his eyes as she swayed unsteadily.
Jess was so shocked she could not speak, but Drago had no problem voicing his feelings.
‘You could have been killed.’ He glanced up at the balcony above them and shuddered. ‘I can only assume you do know more than you’ve admitted about Angelo’s missing money as you were prepared to risk your life trying to get away from me.’
‘I refuse to be held against my will by an amateur sleuth who has made a totally unfounded accusation against me,’ Jess snapped.
Now that she was safely on the ground she could see how dangerous her escape attempt had been, and she felt sick when she imagined how badly injured she might have been if she had fallen. But it was Drago’s fault that she had been forced to take such a risk. Her temper sizzled.
‘I came to Italy because I wanted to try to help Angelo, but if you think I’m going to stick around and take your accusations and insults you’d better think again,’ she said hotly. ‘Instead of hounding me you should be asking yourself why your cousin seemed so worried and unhappy while he was in London. I could tell that something was troubling him, but he didn’t confide in me—or in you, apparently. So much for your assertion that you think of him as your brother—it seems to me that you didn’t think about him enough, because if you had you would have known that something was wrong.’
Drago’s face darkened. ‘You know nothing about my relationship with my cousin,’ he growled.
He was infuriated by her criticism, but part of his anger was fuelled by guilt that there was some truth in what Jess said. He had been so busy running Cassa di Cassari, and he had assumed that Angelo was doing well at college in London. It had been a relief to relinquish some of the responsibility he felt for his family, and although his aunt had been upset that Angelo hardly ever phoned home Drago had felt glad that his cousin was becoming independent. He’d had no idea that the young man had been unhappy—but he only had Jess’s word on his cousin’s state of mind, he thought grimly. And he didn’t have any faith in the word of a woman who had been convicted of fraud.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’ he demanded when she jerked away from him and swung her rucksack onto her back.
‘Home.’ Shaking back her glorious Titian hair, she flashed him a glittering glance from her green eyes. ‘I’ve decided to forgo the pleasure of your hospitality,’ she said with heavy irony. ‘Just point me in the direction of the nearest airport and I’ll be on my way.’
‘The hell you will. You said you would stay until Angelo regained consciousness,’ Drago reminded her.
‘That was before I realised what an arrogant bully you are.’
Jess’s voice rose, drawing the attention of a group of people who were walking across a nearby bridge over the canal. They were Americans, Drago realised when he overheard one of them speak in a distinctive accent. Many of the thousands of tourists who visited Venice each year preferred to come in the spring, to avoid the heat and the crowds who packed St Mark’s Square in the summer months.
He saw Jess glance at the people, and caught the flash of relief on her face as she realised they spoke English. It was easy to read her mind. She had proved when she had climbed down from the balcony that she was surprisingly resourceful and determined. There was only one way Drago could think of to stop her from creating a scene, and before she had time to comprehend his intention he pulled her into his arms and lowered his head, muffling her startled cry with his lips.
As he had expected she instantly stiffened, and he winced when her clenched fist made sharp contact with his ribs. He should have known from her vibrant hair and flashing green eyes that she was a hellcat, he thought ruefully. But the feel of her lithe body squirming against his as she struggled to escape from his grasp heated his blood and fired up his pride. He wasn’t used to women resisting him. Most women he met were a little too keen for him to take them to bed—which perhaps explained his recent restlessness as he searched for an elusive something that he did not even understand. It was a long time since he had felt the thrill of the chase or had to persuade a woman to kiss him back, but Jess had clamped her lips together in a tight line and the challenge of drawing a response from her was too strong to resist.
She had accused Drago of being a bully, but she had not expected him to prove it by kissing her against her will, Jess thought bitterly. She was furious that he had chosen to use his superior size and strength to control her. He was holding her so tightly that she could not move and was unable to jab her fist into him again. Her breasts were crushed against his chest, and the feel of his warm body through his silk shirt, together with the slight friction created as she struggled to pull herself free, was making her nipples feel hot and hard.
Dear heaven, what was happening to her? When had her determination to get away from him changed to desire? One minute she had been resisting him with all her strength, but now a curious lassitude was stealing through her and her body was sinking into him, her soft curves melting against the hardness of his thighs.
Her mouth felt bruised from his savage assault, but the nature of the kiss was changing. His lips were no longer demanding her submission but gently coaxing a response from her that she found impossible to deny. His warm breath filled her mouth as she parted her lips, and she tasted him when he dipped his tongue into her moist interior. His gentleness was unexpected and utterly beguiling. Sexual desire was something she had been sure she would never experience again, but as Drago cupped her bottom and pulled her so close that her pelvis was in direct contact with the hard ridge of his arousal straining beneath his jeans liquid heat coursed through her veins. With a soft moan Jess slid her hands to his shoulders and kissed him with the fiery passion that had lain dormant inside her for so long.
‘You see, honey, I told you they were just having a lovers’ tiff.’
The voice of one of the American tourists broke the silence. His companions’ laughter faded with the sound of their footsteps as they continued on their way. But the comment hurtled Jess back to reality and with a low cry she tore her mouth from Drago’s. To her relief he let her go, and she had a feeling that he was as shocked as she was by the chemistry that had exploded between them. He raked a hand through his dark hair, sweeping it back from his brow, and the moonlight slanting across his face struck the sharp lines of his cheekbones and revealed his tense expression.
‘That shouldn’t have happened,’ he said harshly.
Inexplicably, Jess felt hurt by his words. Of course the kiss had been a mistake, a moment of madness, but by pointing it out he made her feel cheap, and the self-disgust she had heard in his voice was a shameful reminder of his low opinion of her.
She wished she could think of something sarcastic to say, but she had never been clever with words. Drago was staring at her as if he couldn’t believe he had kissed her, and the disdainful curl of his lip was the final humiliation. She had to leave—now, before she felt any worse. She was furious with herself for responding to his kiss with such shameful enthusiasm.
The path running beside the canal did not continue past the end of the palazzo, and the American tourists had now had to retrace their steps back across the bridge. That meant the bridge was her only route of escape. But as she headed towards it Drago stepped in front of her, blocking her way.
‘Come back to the house,’ he ordered.
‘You must be kidding.’ Frantic to get away from him, she ran out along the jetty to where his boat was moored, realising as she did so how stupid the action was. She didn’t know how to start the boat. As she glanced over her shoulder and saw him following she knew she was trapped. ‘Leave me alone.’ She held out a hand to ward him off.
‘Dio, I’m not going to hurt you.’ Drago’s voice grew sharp. ‘Jess—be careful!’
But his words were too late. In the dark, she hadn’t realised how close she was to the end of the jetty, and with a cry she slipped and plunged into the inky depths of the canal.
Der kostenlose Auszug ist beendet.