CHAPTER FOUR
ITTOOKLAYLA approximately three seconds to regain her wits and understand that she’d guilelessly walked into Sebastiano’s trap and that she was handcuffed to him. Three seconds for the instinct to escape to kick in, an instinct she knew would prove futile even as she yanked on the unyielding door handle and stabbed at the unresponsive window button, and shouted for the driver to let her out.
‘He can’t hear you,’ Sebastiano said mildly as they drove up the ramp and back into the daylight.
Furious, Layla turned her head so she could glare directly at him, and, for the first time since she’d fled the bedroom of the suite she’d chained him in, made eye contact with the father of her baby. Her already wildly thumping heart accelerated.
He winked. ‘Great to see you, Layla.’
Trying hard to catch a breath, a feat made harder as every snatch came with a dollop of his gorgeous cologne, she stared at his perfect face and debated which part of it she should punch.
She should have known. Potential benefactors didn’t appear from nowhere. Their law firm wasn’t fashionable enough to attract them without a lot of groundwork and pleading. Their clients were the kind of people who slipped under the radar of people’s attention, mostly ordinary people without a tragic backstory who’d fallen on desperately hard times and had nowhere else to turn for help. Layla had started at Clayton’s straight from university. The salary offered was so far below the market rate that she was the first graduate to approach them as a first resort and not a last. She hadn’t cared about the money, and in any case the money from her part-time evening job at the Diamond Club had made up for it. The day she’d received her practising certificate, she’d received a modest pay rise to reflect that she was now a fully qualified solicitor, just enough extra money to enable her to quit the club.
Quit the club and sleep with its sexiest member.
As perverse as she knew it was to be feeling it, the primary emotion jostling for space with her fury was relief that the worst had finally happened. No more looking over her shoulder. Like watching a horror film, anticipation of the screams was always worse than the screams themselves. Whatever form Sebastiano’s revenge took, it couldn’t be worse than her imaginings, which had ranged from being thrown in the boot of a car and driven over every speed bump in England to Sebastiano using the cuffs currently binding her to him for an entirely different purpose that shouldn’t have made her feel all hot and sticky just to think of it...
‘Where are you taking me?’ she asked tersely.
‘Sicily.’
That made her back straighten. ‘You are out of your mind.’
‘Possibly. Being chained to a bed and blackmailed out of five million pounds has a way of making a man...’ he widened his eyes and wiggled his fingers ‘...a little crazy.’
‘Unhinged is the word that springs to mind if you think you can kidnap me and take me out of the country.’
‘I’ve already kidnapped you, cara. You’ve got your passport. Getting you out of the country is the easy part.’
She snorted her derision. ‘And what are you planning to do if your depraved little fantasy...delusion...of getting me to Sicily works? Lock me in a dungeon?’
His eyes gleamed. ‘Now that’s an idea I could run with.’ He lifted the wrist chained to hers, forcing her own arm to rise. ‘I already have the restraints: thank you for leaving them with me. Let us hope I don’t misplace the key.’
‘I can look after it if you want?’
He leaned his face into hers. ‘Nice try.’
Hating the pulsing sensation in her pelvis at his closeness, close enough now that every inhalation came with the musky scent of his skin as well as the cologne covering it, she gave a sarcastic smile. ‘I thought so. But if you really are planning to smuggle me onto an aeroplane then there’s the little matter of security and all those pesky metal detectors to get past.’
The tip of his nose a whisker from brushing against hers, his smile made her think again of the caged big cat, except this time the cat had been freed and was selecting the choicest area to take his first hungry bite. His voice dropped to a seductive whisper. ‘I am confident that you will walk willingly onto my plane, no restraints required...unless requested.’
She had to expel the breath she’d been holding to ask, ‘Does Laurence know what you’re doing?’
He shifted back. ‘Laurence believes I am your secret lover.’
Sebastiano delighted to see the multitude of expressions that flittered over Layla’s beautiful face. He was quite sure she was thinking of ways to overpower and possibly maim him. His veins buzzed just to imagine her acting out those thoughts.
It was rather incredible to think that in the weeks since being chained to a bed and blackmailed out of a substantial amount of money, he’d felt more alive than he’d ever done before.
He would never have described his life as being boring or predictable but being outwitted by the bar tender he’d bedded after two years of mild flirtation had pumped him with an adrenaline that even a hard workout in his gym couldn’t match. Whereas after their night together he’d ruthlessly forbidden himself from thinking about her, since her blackmail he’d luxuriated in his plans for vengeance, the image of Layla’s perfect oval face, cute nose, striking eyes and lopsided smile always there whether his eyes were open or shut.
He settled back as far as their locked cuffs would allow so he could take the whole of her in. Dio, she was stunning even with minimal makeup, her honey-blonde hair loose and tumbling around her shoulders accentuating her high cheekbones. Her top had slipped a little, exposing a little of her smooth shoulder. Exposing, too, the strap of her blue bra, and he idly wondered if she was wearing matching panties. ‘I would feel bad about lying to him but then I learned he mentored you.’ Noticing her clenched fists, he smiled sympathetically. ‘Don’t worry, no Laurences were hurt in the planning of my vengeance.’
Layla squeezed her eyes shut in a futile attempt to quell the rage boiling in her before flashing her fury back at him. ‘You had no right dragging him into this. He’s a lovely man who’s spent his whole life doing his best to help others. He’ll be horrified when he learns you’ve tricked him.’ Laurence was the closest thing to a father she’d ever had, the reason she hadn’t doubted for a second the validity of a trip to Italy to meet a wealthy philanthropist.
‘He’ll only learn the truth if you tell him, and what would you have preferred? That I used your mother to get to you?’
The mention of her mother made her chest tighten.
‘I did consider it,’ he mused. ‘But then I paid a visit to the coffee shop she works at and...’
She almost sprang off the seat in shock. ‘You stalked my mother?’
The musing expression on his face deepened. ‘I wouldn’t call it stalking, more scoping the enemy.’
‘You pig.’
‘Pigs are highly intelligent creatures and far more hygienic than we give them credit for, so thank you for the compliment.’
‘My mother’s no one’s enemy.’
‘Having met her, I understand what you mean. A beautiful woman. She could be your less shouty older sister.’
If Layla’s left wrist hadn’t been cuffed to Sebastiano’s right wrist, she’d have swung her arm into his stomach with all her furious strength. The way the bastard was relishing every moment meant he’d probably enjoy it.
‘How did she take the news that she’s going to be a grandmother at the tender age of forty-four?’
It took a moment to fully understand what he’d said. ‘You’ve investigated her?’
‘Not personally. How did she take the news about the “baby”?’
‘What do you mean, not personally?’
‘I mean I employed others to do the investigating, and before you ask, yes, I had everyone with a close connection to you investigated, so now you can answer my question of how she took the news about the “baby”. I am assuming you told her?’
‘Of course I told her—she’s my mother,’ she snapped. ‘And she took it much better than you did.’
‘So you are still sticking to the pregnancy story then?’
‘Does that mean you’re still in denial?’
He laughed. ‘Cara, we both know there was no conception. Not with me. You slept with me, returned to that unsavoury street you live on—yes, I paid a little visit to it—and realised I could be your ticket out of there.’
Initially, Sebastiano had been convinced Layla had planned everything, from their initial wild coupling to the blackmail. Everything he’d learned from his investigation into her had changed his mind.
When he’d first read the full report, he’d been stunned.
He’d been unaware that in all the time he’d known her, Layla had been working for a law firm gaining the experience and qualifications needed to become a solicitor in her own right, a discovery he’d found as disconcerting as when he’d heard her surname for the first time. He’d shaken the disconcertment off, telling himself there was no reason he should have known that about her. He’d shaken off the greater disconcertment that her law firm was an entirely charitable organisation with the lowest wages for solicitors in the whole of the English capital. After all, he’d reasoned, history was littered with seemingly good people burdened with dark secrets. No one was entirely pure.
Layla’s resignation from the Diamond Club coincided with her qualifying as a solicitor, which suggested her blackmail had been opportunistic rather than planned. Seeing where she lived had only reinforced this notion.
‘Do you really think I would choose a man like you to be my meal ticket?’ she asked with incredulous heat. ‘Deny it to yourself all you want but I am...’
He placed a finger firmly to her lips. ‘No more baby talk, and no more Medusa looks at me. You have five million in your bank account and once we are married, I will transfer the same amount into your firm’s account. One night of work will have earned you ten million pounds, so I think it is time you started showing me some gratitude.’
The shock on her face at this was as delicious as his chef’s deconstructed tiramisu. He assumed it was this same shock that made her snatch hold of his finger and move it from her mouth rather than bite it off.
‘What did you just say?’ she whispered.
‘Many things, but I assume it was the bit about marriage that you’re referring to?’
Her eyes had widened so much they’d become perfect orbs. ‘You really have lost your mind.’
‘I have never felt saner or seen a clearer path in front of me.’ To his surprise, he realised they’d just turned into the airport’s dedicated area for private flyers. He hadn’t noticed they’d cleared the throng of traffic. ‘You and I will marry on Saturday, and you will use your excellent acting skills to put on an act of complete adoration otherwise I will not just destroy your life but I will personally see that Laurence and your entire law firm is destroyed too.’ The only one he would spare was her mother.
The car came to a stop.
Sebastiano extracted his finger from Layla’s tight grip and removed the key for the handcuffs from his jacket pocket and unlocked them. Freed, he rubbed his hands together and smiled at her. Dio, he was enjoying this. He’d known revenge would taste sweet but this tasted sweeter than a strawberry at the height of a British summer. ‘It is now time for me to board my flight. You do not have to come with me. I will not force you onto the plane.’ He leaned again into her ashen face and widened his smile. ‘You are most welcome to take your chances and hope that I am bluffing.’
Layla parked herself on the luxurious soft leather seat facing Sebastiano.
‘Strap yourself in, cara,’ he said with the mocking tone she was coming to hate as much as she hated him. ‘And that is no way to look at your fiancé. Think complete adoration.’
She shook her head in part fury and part bewilderment. She’d wanted to call his bluff, had had to force her feet to move one in front of the other up the steps and onto the plane. It had been the steeliness in his stare that had convinced her he wasn’t bluffing. Oh, not about the marriage part—that was plainly bonkers—but about his intention to destroy her law firm if she didn’t comply.
Her fury wasn’t just directed at him either. A large portion of it was aimed firmly at herself for thinking she could take on Sebastiano Russo and escape with only minor injuries. For believing that, deep down, he was one of the good guys. For the longing that just wouldn’t quit that he would accept the pregnancy and want to be a father. For the longing that just wouldn’t quit for him.
Lifting her chin, she looked him square in the eye. ‘What are you really planning to do to me?’
His hateful green eyes gleamed. ‘Are you thinking dungeons again?’
She was close to being angry enough to cry. ‘Stop it.’
‘I can turn a section of my cellar into one that we can use as a play room if you want.’ The gleam deepened. ‘We can take it in turns to be restrained.’
The plane began to move.
Unable to look at him a moment longer, Layla stared out of the window beside her head.
‘We are to be married in my private chapel at two o’clock on Saturday afternoon. All the wheels to make this happen have already been greased.’
The thumps of her heart were making it hard to hear clearly but every word penetrated. It was the lack of mockery in his voice that turned the thumps into thunder rolls that whooshed hot blood in her head and made her feel faint.
The plane lifted into the sky and the only word she could pull from her lips was, ‘Why?’
‘Because I need a wife.’ There was a slight pause. ‘Maybe not a wife, but I need a public distraction. Remember that billion-euro loss I told you about? You must do because it’s the billion-euro loss you used to extort five million pounds from me. A journalist from a respected financial newspaper has been investigating it. My legal team are now out of legal avenues to prohibit publication. The temporary injunction lifts tomorrow morning. The journalist will publish immediately. As soon as the news is released, I will release my own statement announcing my wedding to a respectable English family lawyer. It is a tactic commonly known as burying bad news, and what better way to bury bad news that could bring down my whole company than with the wedding of the century? My network has dropped subtle hints to world and business leaders that Saturday is a day they should clear any plans made. Personalised invitations will be hand-delivered to them within an hour of the announcement.’
She couldn’t stop her face from turning back to him but was reeling too much to even pull one word out, never mind string a coherent sentence together.
Perfectly understanding her expression, Sebastiano pulled a sympathetic face. ‘It is a lot to take in for you.’
‘But why?’ She shook her head, trying desperately to clear the blood from it. ‘I can just about get my head around the marriage aspect... Sebastiano Russo getting married will make the news, that’s for sure, but how you can be sure it will bury the loss beats me and I really don’t get why you would want to marry me—sure, as vengeance for what you think I’ve done to you it makes a form of sense in a slightly psychotic way, but I’m not a society woman like you’re supposed to marry and I’m—’
‘You’re the best thing at short notice,’ he cut in. ‘You are unknown in my world, which will only add to the interest. The main criterion for a wife for a man in my position is respectability and on paper you have that. You’re a lawyer. That you were abandoned before birth by your father and raised solely by your mother only gives people more to admire about you because it suggests someone who is hard-working and focused.’
She had to grip the handrails to stop herself from swaying. To hear her father’s abandonment thrown so casually into the conversation almost as a weapon against herself cut to the bone. Coming from the father of the life growing inside her sent the knife to the marrow.
‘My investigative team looked into your entire background,’ he continued. ‘You have never put a foot wrong. Only I know that behind your respectable facade lies a conniving opportunist. We will marry for a short period, until any kick back from the loss has passed, and then we will announce our separation. I can already see it: Unfortunately, with our individual work commitments, we were unable to make our marriage work but we part ways with an abundance of love and respect for each other... I have assured Laurence you will be back in the office in a month. When that happens, we can both embrace the workaholic lifestyles that can destroy even the closest of marriages.
Her laughter had a slight tinge of hysteria to it. ‘Love and respect? Now I’ve heard everything.’
‘I have the greatest respect for you as an adversary, cara. It is what will make our marriage so interesting, do you not agree?’
‘What, you want a wife who hates you?’
A frisson of desire fired through his loins. Marriage—well, the production of an heir—was something that had loomed in Sebastiano’s mind since he’d taken the helm of RBI five years earlier. He wasn’t just the person with overall control but its public face. His actions carried as much weight as his words. Choosing the right wife was imperative. It had to be someone respected on her own account, who could act as hostess without being fazed by the company she was keeping, who knew how to moderate her speech and steer away from controversial subjects and knew not to do anything that could bring scandal in its wake, and who was wealthy in her own right. Unfortunately, all the women he knew who fitted these criteria were as exciting as a board meeting. Layla fitted the criteria of the first two aspects. Fear of the damage he would cause would keep her in line for the second two aspects. As she’d already proved herself an opportunistic gold-digger and their marriage would only be brief, the final criterion was moot. That she was a chameleon with fire in her veins would give their brief marriage more entertainment value than all the years of the permanent marriage he would make when it was over.
Openly sweeping his gaze over her bombshell beauty, relishing the defiance in the jut of her chin and the colour slowly creeping over her high cheekbones, he said, ‘In public, we will be the model of a respectable couple as befits the head of an international bank.’ And then he smiled. ‘Whatever war we make between ourselves and whatever form that war takes will be entirely private.’
Layla couldn’t settle. Sebastiano had taken himself off to his office and she didn’t have it in her to marvel that she was on a private plane with an actual office in it, or marvel at the plush living area she paced up and down in dreaming up myriad scenarios to escape this terrible trap he’d caught her in. Of course, the easiest way out of it was to simply say no and fly back home but this, as with every other scenario, was discarded because they all ended in the same way—her law firm’s destruction. Hundreds of current clients with their legal representation ripped away from them. Thousands more future clients lost in the system with nowhere to go for help.
What a fool she’d been. Desperation to get out of her crime-ridden neighbourhood before her baby was born had made her reckless and now she was paying the price. There were only two brief glimmers of sunshine in the whole thing, one being that the money for her baby was already secure—at least for now. She wouldn’t put it past Sebastiano to find a way to take it back from her. The other was that during their short marriage, the pregnancy would start to show and Sebastiano would have to confront the truth of it. There was a chance, slim though it was, that her baby might have its father in its life.
His office was at the tail end of the plane. Unable to bear another minute of her own thoughts, she opened the door to it without knocking and found Sebastiano perched on his desk chatting on his phone.
One look at her and he cut the conversation short.
‘My beautiful fiancée,’ he said, casually placing his phone on the desk without rising from it. ‘Missing my company already?’
He’d removed his suit jacket and tie and rolled the sleeves up on his shirt, the muscles of his lean torso clearly delineated beneath the expensive material. Hating herself for what must be an inherent shallowness that her pulses could quicken at the mere sight of him, Layla took a step back to create more distance between them. ‘I have questions.’
‘And you have come here for the answers? How romantic.’
Gritting her teeth, she prayed to all the gods for strength. ‘Did you mean it about donating five million to my law firm?’
‘You will learn that I always mean what I say. If the wedding goes smoothly and you put on a convincing act then I will transfer it on Sunday.’
‘Why would you do that?’
‘Every good dog deserves a bone.’
Her outrage was so immediate that she closed the gap between them in two quick paces and pushed furiously at his chest. ‘How can you say...?’
A large hand enveloped her wrist, cutting her off mid-outrage. In the blink of a moment, Layla found herself pulled to Sebastiano and trapped between his thighs.
‘I probably deserved that reaction, but let’s save the kinky stuff for the bedroom,’ he murmured.
His position on the desk made them practically eye level. His face was so close to hers that the warmth of his coffee-scented breath landed on her lips. To her absolute horror, warm sensation spread through her veins, and when he speared her hair with the hand not wrapped around her wrist, she was helpless to stop the shiver of delight that zinged down her spine.
‘I take back calling you a pig,’ she said hoarsely, trying her hardest to wrench her stare from the hypnotic green gaze that was the cause of all this trouble. ‘You’re nothing but an unmitigated bastard.’
He smiled lazily...lasciviously...and released her wrist, tiptoeing his fingers up her ribcage and splaying his hand over her right breast to gently pinch the hardened nipple. He pulled her head even closer and, his voice now a seductive whisper, said, ‘And what does it say about you that an unmitigated bastard like me turns you into liquid?’ And then his sensuous mouth found hers.