The Italian's Unwilling Wife. Kathryn Ross

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      As her eyes held with the dark, searing intensity of his, her heart lurched crazily. He was the same drop-dead-gorgeous man who had stolen her heart away—except that man had only ever been an illusion, she reminded herself fiercely. Despite the heat of the passion they had once shared, she had never meant anything to him. Behind the façade the real Damon had just been a seducer—a predator who’d enjoyed the thrill of the chase and nothing more.

      Falling in love with him had been a mistake, and she had learnt her lesson.

      The memory helped her to pull herself together and focus her senses.

      ‘Hello, Abigail. It’s been a long time.’

      His voice was coolly sardonic, and yet the attractive accent still managed to lash against the fragility of her defences.

      ‘What are you doing here, Damon?’ Somehow she managed to sound calm and controlled.

      ‘Is that all you can say after all this time?’ Again there was the same mocking tone to his question. ‘How about “nice to see you, Damon—why don’t you come in?”’

      The strange thing was that one part of her—the wild, illogical part—wanted to say those words, but his manner forbade it. Something in the cool tone and the glint of his eye told her very clearly that although he was here on her doorstep nothing had changed from their last meeting, and his opinion of her was as low as you could get.

      ‘I haven’t got time for games, Damon,’ she grated unevenly.

      ‘Really? Strange how you had plenty of time for games in the past.’

      Her father’s words reverberated through her consciousness. This is about revenge, Abigail—and you are next on Cyrenci’s list. She swallowed hard and slanted her chin up. ‘Obviously this isn’t an impromptu social call, so just say whatever it is you’ve come to say, Damon, and then go. You’ll forgive me if I don’t invite you in.’

      ‘No—I don’t think I will forgive you, Abbie.’

      Although he said the words matter-of-factly, there was an undercurrent that struck her and hurt—and that in turn made her angry. Why should he still have the power to hurt her like that? She tightened her hold on the door. ‘Well, you are not coming in.’

      He shook his head. ‘I really don’t think you are being very friendly, and I’m sure given the circumstances you can do better than that—in fact, your father assured me that you could.’

      What had her father been saying to him? ‘I don’t know what’s been going on between you and my father. I believe you now control the Newland empire—well…’ she shrugged ‘…I don’t care. It has nothing to do with me.’

      ‘That’s where you are wrong, Abbie. This has everything to do with you.’

      The chill certainty in his voice flayed her.

      ‘I just want you to go now.’ To Abbie’s distress, her voice faltered slightly.

      ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

      ‘Well, you are certainly not coming inside my house.’ She started to try and close the door but she didn’t move quickly enough, and he put his foot in the way, effectively stopping her.

      ‘Let me spell things out for you a little more clearly.’ His voice was suddenly very serious. ‘We have unfinished business, and I’m coming in whether you like it or not.’

      ‘Damon, it’s late and you’re scaring me.’

      ‘Good.’ He sounded cold and unyielding.

      ‘I’ll have to ring the police if you don’t go now,’ she threatened shakily.

      ‘By all means, you do that.’ For a second his eyes narrowed. ‘At least that way we can speed things up.’

      ‘Speed what things up?’

      ‘The legal side of things.’ He watched impassively as the colour drained from her face. ‘As you have so rightly pointed out, I’m in control of the Newland assets now. And according to company records no rent has been paid on this place for—oh, quite some time.’

      ‘That’s because the place belongs to me!’ she hissed furiously.

      Damon shook his head. ‘No, it belongs to me,’ he corrected her quietly. ‘And I’m here to take stock of my belongings.’

      ‘Well, then, you’d better contact me through my solicitor.’

      Damon smiled at that. ‘Oh, don’t worry, I will be doing that. Because I also want access to my son.’

      The words dropped into the silence like a bombshell, and Abbie’s limbs suddenly felt as if they didn’t belong to her.

      ‘So are we going to do things the easy way or the hard way?’ he enquired silkily. ‘It’s up to you.’

      She couldn’t answer him. Her hands dropped from the door, and as she momentarily lost her hold on the situation he took his opportunity and walked past her into the house.

      His eyes swept over the lounge area, taking in the brown leather sofas, the polished wood floors and the huge stone fireplace. The place was very stylish, but it wasn’t what he had been expecting. The furniture, when you looked closely, was old, and everything had a slight air of faded opulence. But Damon wasn’t interested in décor; he was searching for telltale signs of something that interested him far more. He found what he was looking for as his eyes lighted on a box of toys by the far end of the sofa, and a discarded teddy bear on a chair. At the sight of those toys his insides knotted with a fierce anger.

      ‘So, where is he?’

      As he rounded towards her again, Abbie sensed a seething fury that made her truly afraid. She could hardly think straight for a moment, never mind answer him.

      ‘Where is my son, Abbie? You may as well tell me now, because I will find him even if I have to go through every room in this house—or every house on this island.’

      The determination in those words stunned her, but they also brought an inner answering strength welling up inside her. ‘You keep away from him, Damon. He is not a belonging listed under the company assets. He is a little person in his own right, and I won’t have you marching in here upsetting him.’

      ‘And what about his right to have a father—or doesn’t that count in your twisted logic?’

      The question smote Abbie’s heart. It was something she had asked herself time and time again—something that had kept her awake long into the lonely nights when she had discovered she was pregnant. Yes, she wanted Mario to have a father—a loving father who would put his needs first. But Damon had left before she’d realised she was pregnant, and she hadn’t known where he had gone. She’d tried to track him down, but to no avail. She had consoled herself with the fact that he wouldn’t have been interested in his child anyway. Damon didn’t go in for commitment, he led a playboy lifestyle. He’d told her that when they’d first met.

      But the strange thing was that when he’d held her in his arms she СКАЧАТЬ