Her Exquisite Surrender: Surrendering All But Her Heart / Innocent in the Ivory Tower / Full Surrender. Lucy Ellis

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      She shook her head as she swallowed a couple of pills. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Only in an emergency.’

      He was still frowning as he led her out to the car. ‘When did you develop your fear of flying?’ he asked.

      ‘Ages ago,’ she said.

      ‘What caused it?’ he asked. ‘Rough turbulence or a mid-air incident?’

      She shrugged. ‘Can’t remember.’

      His dark gaze searched hers. ‘When was the last time you flew?’

      ‘Can we get going?’ she asked. ‘I don’t want to fall asleep in the car. You’ll have to carry me on board.’

      Angelo glanced at Natalie every now and again as he drove to the airport. She was not quite so pale now the medication had settled her nerves, but she still looked fragile. Her cheeks looked hollow, as if she had recently lost weight, and her eyes were shadowed.

      Her concern over her brother was well founded. He had struck a deal with Lachlan, but already Lachlan was pushing against the boundaries Angelo had set in place. The staff at a very expensive private rehab clinic had called him three times in the last week to inform him about Lachlan’s erratic and at times uncontrollable behaviour. He had organised a therapist to have extra sessions with him, but so far there had been no miraculous breakthrough. It seemed Lachlan Armitage was a very angry young man, hell-bent on self-destruction.

      Speaking with Natalie’s father had made Angelo realise how frustrating it must be to have a child who, no matter how much you loved and provided for him, refused to co-operate. Adrian Armitage had hinted at similar trouble with Natalie. Apparently her stubborn streak had caused many a scene in the Armitage household over the years. In spite of all of her father’s efforts to get close to her she had wilfully defied him whenever she could. Angelo wondered if it was a cultural thing. He had been brought up strictly, but fairly. His parents had commanded respect, but they had more than earned it with their dedication and love for him. He hoped to do the same for his own children one day.

      He turned off the engine once he had parked and gently touched Natalie on the shoulder. ‘Hey, sleepyhead,’ he said. ‘Time to get going.’

      She blinked and sat up straighter. ‘Oh … Right …’

      He put an arm around her waist as he led her on board his private jet a short time later. She was agitated and edgy, but he managed to get her to take a seat and put the belt on.

      ‘Can I have a drink?’ she asked.

      ‘Sure,’ he said. ‘What would you like?’

      ‘White wine,’ she said.

      ‘Are you sure it’s a good idea to combine alcohol with those pills?’ he asked.

      She gave him a surly look. ‘I’m not a child.’

      ‘No, but you’re under my protection,’ he said. ‘I don’t want you getting ill, or losing consciousness or something.’

      She started chewing her nails as the pilot pulled back. Angelo took her hand away from her mouth and covered it with his. ‘You’ll be fine, cara,’ he said. ‘You were in far more danger driving to the airport than you ever will be in the air.’

      She shifted restively, her eyes darting about like a spooked thoroughbred’s. ‘I want to get off,’ she said. ‘Please—can you tell the pilot to stop? I want to get off.’

      Angelo put his arm around her and brought her close against him. ‘Shh, mia piccola,’ he soothed. ‘Concentrate on your breathing. In and out. In and out. That’s right. Nice and slow.’

      She squeezed her eyes shut and lowered her head to his chest. He stroked the silk of her hair, talking to her in the same calm voice. It took a lot longer than he expected but finally she relaxed against him. She slept for most of the journey and only woke up just as they were coming to land in Rome.

      ‘There,’ he said. ‘You did it. That wasn’t so bad, was it?’

      She nodded vaguely and brushed the hair back off her face. ‘Have I got time to use the bathroom?’

      ‘Sure,’ he said. ‘Do you want me to come with you?’

      Her cheeks pooled with colour. ‘No, thank you.’

      He gave her a mocking smile. ‘Maybe next time, si?’

      The press had obviously been given a tip-off somewhere between their arrival at the airport and Angelo’s family villa in Rome. Natalie watched in dismay as photographers surged towards Angelo’s chauffeur-driven car.

      ‘Don’t worry,’ he said as he helped her out of the car. ‘I’ll handle their questions.’

      Within a few moments Angelo had managed to satisfy the press’s interest and sent them on their way.

      An older man opened the front door of the villa and greeted Angelo. ‘Your parents are in the salon, Signor Bellandini.’

      ‘Grazie, Pasquale,’ he said. ‘Natalie, this is Pasquale. He has been working for my family for many years.’

      ‘I’m very pleased to meet you,’ Natalie said.

      ‘Welcome,’ Pasquale said. ‘It is very nice to see Signor Bellandini happy at last.’

      ‘Come,’ Angelo said, guiding her with a hand resting in the curve of her back. ‘My parents will be keen to meet you.’

      If they were so keen, why hadn’t they been at the door to greet her instead of the elderly servant? Natalie thought bitterly to herself. But clearly there was a different protocol in the upper classes of Italian society. And Sandro and Francesca Bellandini were nothing if not from the very top shelf of the upper class.

      Natalie could see where Angelo got his height and looks from as soon as she set eyes on his father. While an inch or two shorter than his son, Sandro had the same dark brown eyes and lean, rangy build. His hair was still thick and curly but it was liberally streaked with grey, giving him a distinguished air that was as compelling as it was intimidating.

      Francesca, on the other hand, was petite, and her demeanour outwardly demure, but her keen hazel eyes missed nothing. Natalie felt them move over her in one quick assessing glance, noting her hair and make-up, the style and make of her clothes, the texture of her skin and the state of her figure.

      ‘This is Natalie, my fiancée,’ Angelo said. ‘Natalie—my parents, Sandro and Francesca.’

      ‘Welcome to the family.’ Francesca was the first to speak. ‘Angelo has told us so much about you. I am sorry we didn’t meet you five years ago. We would’ve told him he was a fool for letting you go—si, Sandro?’

      ‘Si,’ Sandro said, taking her hand once his wife had relinquished it. ‘You are very welcome indeed.’

      Angelo’s arm came back around her waist. ‘I’ll see that Natalie is settled in upstairs before we join you for a celebratory drink.’

      ‘Maria СКАЧАТЬ