Secret Heirs: His One Night Consequence. Кэрол Мортимер

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       CHAPTER TWO

      ‘WHO is this?’ Carys’ voice emerged as a raw croak.

       It couldn’t be.

      Not here. Not now.

      Not after she’d finally convinced herself she never wanted to see him again. Fate couldn’t be so cruel.

      Yet some wayward self-destructive impulse sent a buzz of excitement skimming along her nerves. Once she’d longed for him to make contact, to come after her, tell her he’d been wrong. Tell her…no, she wasn’t so credulous as to believe in such fantasies any more.

      What did he want? Her hand tightened like a claw at her throat. A premonition of danger filled her, icing her blood.

      ‘You know who it is, Carys.’ Just the way he pronounced her name with that sexy Italian accent turned the word into a caress that melted her insides.

      He’d always threatened her self-control. Carys remembered murmured enticements in that dark coffee voice and how he’d persuaded her to give up everything she’d worked for just for the privilege of being with him.

      Fool!

      She shivered and sat up straighter, berating herself.

      ‘Please identify yourself,’ she said tersely.

      It couldn’t be him. He’d never follow her to Australia. He’d made that clear when she’d left with her tail between her legs.

      But the memory of the stranger tonight at the ball, the masked man who’d made her think of him, battered at her disbelief. Wildly she shook her head, trying to clear a brain overloaded by exhaustion and stress.

      Was she going mad? Seeing him, even hearing him, when she knew perfectly well he was ensconced in his oh-so-exclusive world of rich, elegant, aristocratic friends. Of high-flying business deals and blue blood and glamour.

       Where people like her only provided brief amusement.

      ‘Don’t pretend not to know me, Carys. I have no time for puerile games.’ He paused as if waiting for her to rush into speech. ‘It’s Alessandro Mattani.’

      Silence throbbed as she clutched the receiver. Her heart crashed against her ribs. She would have slid to the floor if she hadn’t already been sitting.

      ‘Alessandro…’

      ‘Mattani. I’m sure you recognise the name.’ His voice was sharp as a razor.

      Recognise the name! Once she’d even hoped to share it with him.

      A bubble of hysterical laughter threatened to explode from her stiff lips. Carys slapped her palm across her mouth, concentrating on deep breaths. She needed oxygen.

      The room spun crazily and dark spots whirled in her vision.

      A clatter jerked her back to full awareness, and she looked down as if from an enormous distance to see the phone had slipped from her nerveless fingers onto the table.

      Alessandro Mattani.

       The man she’d loved.

       The man who’d broken her heart.

      A sound caught her attention and Carys looked up, suddenly aware again of her surroundings. The last of the staff were leaving and waving goodnight.

      Belatedly she lifted a hand in acknowledgement.

      Dazedly she looked around. The stage was set for tomorrow’s fashion show. Enormous jardinières with arrangements of exotic orchids and jungle greenery had been strategically positioned as she’d instructed. The lights were dimmed and she was alone.

      But for the voice on the other end of the line. The voice of her dreams.

      Tentatively, as if reaching out to touch an untamed animal, Carys stretched her fingers to the phone. She lifted it, and a deep voice barked in her ear.

      ‘Carys?’

      ‘I’m here.’

      Silence, but for the impatient hiss of indrawn breath.

      ‘No more games. I want to see you.’

      Well, bully for him. She was past the stage of worrying what Alessandro Mattani wanted.

      Besides, she wasn’t foolish enough to go near him again. Even now she didn’t trust her hard-won defences against the man who’d only had to smile and crook his finger to get what he wanted from her. СКАЧАТЬ