Once A Playboy.... Kate Hardy

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      ‘I can tell by your reputation that you have no value for family. That was Valente’s worst trait. A Sicilian man puts his family first.’

      ‘My choice of lifestyle is irrelevant. I am the most obvious choice for your development. It’s clear to everyone around you and yet you refuse to cut me in. I have the expertise and the resources.’

      ‘I’m not talking about the womanising. Although I do prefer to do business with family men who know the true meaning of responsibility.’ Umberto narrowed his eyes, glowering at Leo with a look of unbridled anger. ‘You want to know why I’m blocking this deal? I refuse to do business with someone who treats their own flesh and blood like dirt.’

      Leo felt the comment cut him deep. He knew Umberto was alluding to his mother. To the way she had been treated by his father—and by Leo, to a certain extent.

      ‘Your father sent my sister into an early grave. The Valente name means nothing to me but selfishness and betrayal.’

      ‘My mother put herself into that grave, Uncle. She committed suicide. She was not the woman you think she was.’

      ‘She was not perfect, no. But she deserved better than to be locked away like a dirty little secret.’

      Leo felt the pain of his uncle’s words cut to his core. His mother had deserved better—they both had. The only person to blame for the life they’d led was his father. But he refused to argue over a bunch of ghosts when his goal was within touching distance. Memories belonged in the past, where they couldn’t hurt anybody.

      ‘I’m not here to talk about ancient history. I’m here to talk about the Isola project. I thought that by coming here peacefully, healing the rift between us, we could finally see each other as equals.’

      ‘We will never be equals as long as a Valente owns Lucchesi land.’

      Leo thought of the castello in Monterocca. His mother’s family had owned Castello Bellamo for hundreds of years until she’d married a Valente and signed it away.

      He spoke quietly, aware of Umberto’s unbridled anger at what he perceived to be yet another slight on his family name. ‘I am half-Lucchesi, remember?’

      Umberto shook his head.

      ‘My mother would not be happy to know her brother was treating her son this way, Zio.’

      Umberto raised one silvery brow. ‘Don’t play on my sentimentality. It doesn’t exist.’

      Leo was exasperated. The man was just throwing block after block at him, leaving no room to negotiate. ‘What must I do to prove myself?’

      ‘You know what I want. The same thing I told your father I wanted the day he put my sister in the ground.’

      Leo ran a hand down his face. He’d had a feeling it might come to this. ‘The castello is my birthright.’

      ‘It was built with Lucchesi blood. My family have far more right to Bellamo.’

      ‘You’re asking me to part with the place I called home for most of my childhood.’

      ‘If it holds such sentimental value for you why have you left it to rot? You want in on the Isola project? You know what I want.’

      The older man walked back inside, leaving Leo alone on the terrace with nothing but the sound of the waves rushing against the rocks in the gulf.

      Too much quiet made him irritable, and he was grateful when Dara came to find him moments later.

      ‘How did it go?’ she enquired.

      ‘As well as I imagined it would.’ He shrugged. ‘He has made it clear what it will take to let me in on the deal.’

      ‘Is it something you can do?’ she asked innocently, handing him a glass of wine.

      ‘It would complicate a lot of things. Upset some people.’

      He thought of Dara’s face when he told her of his plan for the castello. He had heard her on the phone to her client, confirming their contract details. He had offered Dara a complete solution to her problems—a chance to further her business to the next level and avoid ruin. How was he going to tell her that he had to take it all away?

      Their contract had loopholes in his favour—he had made sure of that in case it came to this. He had known there was a possibility that Umberto was using the Isola deal to leverage him into signing over the castle, but he hadn’t planned on caring about who it might affect.

      Dara looked at him thoughtfully. ‘You want that deal badly enough to have accepted my event pitch. I don’t see what can be so important that you would consider walking away from it now?’

      Leo knew she had no idea what she was talking about, but she was right. They didn’t know each other well enough for him to take her feelings into account. He had no reason to feel guilty. The loss of the venue might cause her trouble, but he would pay her off. Make sure he lessened the financial blow.

      He wouldn’t tell her straight away. He would wait at least until he had made his decision.

      * * *

      Dara noticed the stern set of Leo’s jaw as they got into the limo. It had been a long evening of polite conversation. The kind of conversation that arose when there was a lot of tension in the air. She noticed that the air of mischief that normally surrounded him had evaporated, to be replaced with a brooding distance.

      She found herself wondering at his change in mood, willing him to say something inappropriate and break the silence. She had spent the entire night arguing all the reasons why she shouldn’t just cross the hall and slip into his bed. It had been sheer torture, with every fibre in her body urging her to give in to the way he made her feel.

      ‘You keep looking at me,’ he said darkly. ‘Something to say?’

      Dara raised her brows at his tone. ‘I was just wondering why you were sitting there like a petulant child all of a sudden.’

      ‘I’m not in the mood for this right now,’ he warned.

      ‘It’s okay for you to be a jerk, but when it’s given back you get annoyed?’ She laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

      ‘I was told not to be playful, if I remember correctly. Once the show was over. Or do you forget last night already?’

      Dara felt heat creep into her cheeks. How could she ever forget last night? The memory of his mouth devouring hers, his hand sliding between her thighs, had kept her awake most of the night. She had been unable to sleep, knowing he was so near, confused at the sudden longing consuming her. It was not how she usually reacted to men—not since she had made the decision never to be with a man again.

      She was unable to think around him and unable to resist the temptation he offered.

      ‘Like I said, I’m in no mood to play games.’ He stared out of the window, oblivious to the nature of her thoughts.

      ‘What if I’m not playing games any more?’ She spoke quietly, not quite knowing СКАЧАТЬ