Ruthless Revenge: Sweet Surrender. Annie West

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       CHAPTER TWELVE

      ‘EVERYTHING ALL RIGHT?’

      Donato stopped beside her and Ella had a disturbingly appealing view of powerful hands and muscled thighs in faded denim. She stood. Her sister’s revelations had thrown her and she needed time to digest them, consider how to get the rest of Rob’s money from their father.

      But thinking clearly with Donato near was a big ask. Look what had happened at the theatre last night. He’d kissed her and she’d begun to believe...

      ‘Of course. Everything’s fine.’

      One ebony eyebrow slanted up, reminding her of the superior way he’d regarded her that very first night. Before they’d become lovers.

      A weight punched hard and low in her belly. Her conscience. She’d let him distract her from her purpose. She was supposed to be helping her siblings. Yet for weeks she’d been too busy discovering passion and pleasure with Donato. It was time she got back on track—faced down her father.

      ‘Something’s weighing on you.’

      The gentle probing stiffened Ella’s shoulders. She’d grown so close to Donato, her instinct was to share her problems with him.

      Yet he was part of the problem!

      This farcical situation was doing her head in. Her father insisted he couldn’t repay the money till after the wedding. Meanwhile she was sleeping with Donato, not through coercion, but because she wanted him as she’d never wanted any man.

      Ella rubbed her forehead. ‘I have things to sort out.’

      ‘Family things? To do with your brother?’ Donato moved closer, his gaze intent. ‘Something to do with money?’

      Ella’s head reared back. He had heard.

      Again she felt that impulse to spill her worries. But if she revealed her father had stolen from his own son that would stymie his business deal with Donato, for how could Donato trust such a man? And if the deal didn’t proceed, Rob wouldn’t get his money.

      ‘That was a private conversation.’

      Donato’s face changed. From concern his expression hardened, setting in severe lines. The spark vanished from his gaze, replaced by a coolness she felt like a blast of arctic air. She hadn’t seen him look like that since the night they met.

      ‘You don’t trust me?’ The words were silky smooth so she must have imagined the hint of hurt in them. Donato didn’t do hurt. He was strong, always in control.

      Ella breathed deep, torn between duty and desire.

      And guilt. Last night he’d stood up for her and her heart had sung.

      But she couldn’t tell him, not if she was to help her siblings. ‘You don’t tell me everything about your life. You guard yourself so no one can get really close. But do I get upset when you don’t let me in?’

      He stepped near, engulfing her with his heat and his sheer presence. The delicious skin scent that was his alone filled her nostrils.

      ‘I don’t know? Do you?’ The deep cadence of his voice mesmerised her. She wanted—

      Sucking in a sharp breath, she moved back.

      He moved with her.

      ‘Do you, Ella? Is that what’s bothering you? Because I don’t share every tiny detail of my life? You want my secrets and my soul as well as my body and my money?’

      At the unexpected insult hurt crested. Unbelievably Ella saw her hand rise with it.

      Stunned, she felt juddering shock radiate through her as Donato caught her wrist centimetres from his face. She hadn’t even registered the intention to strike him.

      He held her hand high, drawing her closer, and she planted her other palm on his chest for balance. Beneath her touch his heart tapped an even rhythm, only fractionally quicker than usual. Nothing, it seemed, fazed Donato. Meanwhile her heart slammed hard and fast. Her breath came in uneven gasps.

      ‘I don’t want your money,’ she whispered through clenched teeth. ‘You know that.’ How could he say that when last night he’d been so understanding, so wonderful? She’d never felt more lost and confused.

      ‘Are you sure?’ Eyes like the sea, fathoms deep and merciless, held hers.

      Heat scored Ella’s cheeks. He was right. She wanted his funds to prop up her father’s business so Reg Sanderson could repay the money he’d stolen. She looked away, ashamed to be her father’s advocate. It went against the grain not to tell Donato the sort of man he did business with. By keeping quiet surely she was culpable?

      ‘Are you going to tell me, Ella?’

      She shut her eyes against the temptation to spill everything, all her worries. But a lifetime’s hard-won lessons stiffened her spine. She shook her head.

      ‘You don’t trust me.’