Mistress at the Italian's Command. Melanie Milburne

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      ‘Your brother-in-law is a two-timing creep,’ she snipped at him. ‘I pity his wife. I am sure I’m not the first woman he’s had on the side.’

      ‘You are right,’ he said, surprising her with his candidness. ‘Rocco is weak where beautiful women are concerned. His affair with you is not his first, and I dare say will not be his last.’

      Ally tried to put some space between them, but the room was too small and he was too big. She could smell the lemon-based fragrance of his aftershave. It had been drifting towards her nostrils for the last few minutes, but she had been doing her best to ignore its alluring potency. And failing miserably. Her body was reacting to him in a way she had never thought possible. She was both frightened and attracted at the same time. He had a magnetic aura about him. He was the epitome of the successful businessman—wealth and prestige clung to him like a second skin—but she could see a glint of implacable ruthlessness in his eyes that secretly terrified her.