Chapter Two
Chapter Two
I t was not every day that Enzo Rossetti found himself on the back foot. But from the moment he’d left Marcus’s party last night, he’d not been able to get the haunting image of cool blue eyes and thick dark wet ropes of rubies from his mind.
The woman had been unacceptable collateral damage in a war he’d had no idea had been raging. But he should have handled it better, at least ensuring that no one got caught in the cross-fire.
He puffed out a breath of air as he looked up at the pale yellow building wedged, like its neighbours, as tightly up to the cobbled streets as possible.
Real estate was a limited commodity in Capri, and every inch was used to its full potential.
He craned his neck back to peer up at what appeared to be a very neat B&B rather than the more expensive hotels in Anacapri.
Oh, it was still in a very beautiful part of the island, but it just hadn’t been what he’d expected from the fiery siren he’d encountered, albeit ever so briefly, the night before.
Still, he’d paid a high price to discover Erin Carter’s name and location, facilitated by various incredibly efficient members of staff.
He’d considered asking Marcus what he knew of her, but dismissed the idea.
The man would be incomprehensible for at least another twenty-four hours. He’d never handled his alcohol well.
Enzo entered through the glossy white doorway, and found the Signora at the small wooden reception.
He explained his predicament, and she gave him an assessing look.
He imagined that a grandmother would have looked at him like that, had he ever had one.
He’d long ago given up the childish habit of searching for information on his extended family.
His father’s parents were no longer alive, and his mother’s?
Well, the Gallo clan were just as famous as his parents and not a single one had ever come looking for him, no matter the stories about him and his parents in the press.
And Enzo certainly wasn’t going to go begging for their attention.
‘ Allora ,’ she said with a nod of her head, before explaining that she would let Signorina Carter know that he was here and she could decide for herself whether she wanted to see him.
He found himself hustled into a courtyard with much flapping of hands and, biting back a smile, turned to wait for the woman that would come down to meet him. He was sure of it.
The courtyard was pretty, ancient bougainvillea twisting up to the roof and out across the building.
Large terracotta pots barely containing small-leafed plants in need of a good trim.
In the corner an olive tree’s silvery leaves rippled in the soft breeze.
It was, he could admit, in its own way quite beautiful.
And then he laughed at himself for the fanciful thought.
He crossed over to the pots that contained the lavender, curious about their scent, and inhaled for a moment, letting the calm it brought him hit home.
In the background he was conscious of the sounds of the hostel, the windows open and the balconies above that looked down on the area.
‘It was unspeakable.’
The words drifted down from a balcony somewhere above. The disdain so evident it caught his attention as much as the English words.
‘No, it hasn’t changed my mind at all. I’m more determined than ever.’
He found himself smiling—because he realised that it was highly likely to be the voice of Ms Carter.
Her English was crisp, her accent untraceably regional so it was probable that she grew up in London.
But it was that fire, the one that heated her words, that had drawn him. The blaze in her gaze that he’d—
‘Once he marries me, I’ll get what I want and the rest is history.’
Enzo blinked. Once. Twice.
‘I just have to engineer another way to meet him, before he gets back on his yacht and disappears off down the coast.’
If Enzo had been in any doubt, if he had been willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, her next words sealed her fate.
‘I don’t care that Enzo Rossetti is obnoxious, arrogant, and clearly immoral if not depraved, ’ Ms Carter continued blithely, his faults highly exaggerated in his honest opinion. ‘I’ll just have to grin and bear it. At least until the ink of his signature is dry on the paperwork.’
He reared back as if he’d just been slapped.
Marriage? He nearly barked out a laugh. Nothing would convince him to marry. And she thought that she could, what, entrap him?
For what reason? Money? Fame?
‘No, that’s okay, Sam. You’ve done enough already.’
Sam? Who was this Sam? Her lover? Her real lover, in on this scam?
Gritting his teeth so hard he was in serious risk of breaking a tooth, he turned on his heel to leave, but—
But what if he didn’t?
Anyone looking at Enzo Rossetti at that exact moment might have had the urge to shiver at the sight of his narrowed gaze, the furious intelligence radiating from those dark eyes, the stillness of a predator very carefully assessing his options.
What if he didn’t turn and leave...?
What if, he wondered to himself, he instead chose to teach Ms Erin Carter a lesson?
Perhaps she should get her just deserts.
As the Masters had found out this morning, when they’d woken to discover several of their business associates had cut ties with them following last night’s scene, Ms Carter would come to see that he was known to the world as an itinerant playboy, but that he was not a man to be messed with.
Grin and bear it, indeed.
Oh, this, Enzo Rossetti assured himself, was going to be fun.
Erin ended the call with Sam at the knock on her door. She’d woken up that morning and thrown herself into the shower determined to head down to the marina to see if she could get hold of Enzo and had only stopped to take the call from Sam.
But when Mrs Agostino explained that there was a gentleman here to see her, a Signor Rossetti, Erin knew her luck had turned. She told the hotel manager that she’d be down shortly, closed the door and promptly sank against it.
Don’t panic. Don’t panic.
Enzo Rossetti was downstairs and asking for her.
Oh, she didn’t bother wondering how he’d found her.
A man with that much money and free time could do pretty much anything, she was sure.
But why ? Maybe all that practice making eyes at herself in the mirror had worked!
Could it be that the Italian billionaire had fallen for her charm?
She all but laughed at herself for having even considered it.
But no matter. She had to be more... calm .
More like Rin, the fictional femme fatale she had created to ensnare the Playboy of Amalfi.
Rin wouldn’t rush down to meet him. She’d make him wait.
So even though it went against every fibre of Erin’s being, she took her time choosing—with very specific intention—what to wear.
She riffled through ‘Rin’s’ half of the wardrobe with something very close to nerves.
Her research had shown her where Enzo Rossetti’s sartorial tastes ran, and it appeared to be either very low or very high, depending on the body part in question.
Erin pulled out a pair of high-waisted blue shorts, and a very low-cut white shirt that seemed to cover more than it actually did.
She gave one last longing look in the mirror at the elegant, sophisticated trousers and cool cotton jumper she had been wearing before getting changed.
She might not be sure why Enzo was here, but she was going to take full advantage of it.
He’d slipped through her fingers last night, but she wouldn’t let it happen again.
A short while later she entered the courtyard to find Enzo Rossetti on the small wooden bench, ankle crossed over knee, head tilted back in a ray of sunlight, reminding her for some strange reason of a fox.
But not red in colour. Black. A wolf then, Erin decided, and took it as a warning to be on her guard.
Despite that, her mind was still able to catalogue all the ways in which he was one of the most aggressively handsome men she’d ever encountered.
‘Ms Carter,’ he said without opening his eyes. ‘Are you spying on me?’ he teased.
She suppressed the instinctive shiver that rolled across her body, his English heavy with an alluring Italian lilt. They hadn’t spoken the night before, and the tone he used now was markedly different to what he’d used last night with the husband and wife he had so badly wronged.
‘Mr Rossetti,’ she said, inclining her head, ‘I was going to ask you the same question.’ His eyes opened on hers and, to her immense satisfaction, widened in surprise.
He licked his lips as he took her in from head to toe, lingering on the rather shocking amount of leg on display thanks to the shortness of the shorts and the height of the wedged heel.
It was almost indecent, but at least Enzo Rossetti wasn’t tacky, she’d been relieved to discover.
Even if she was still uncomfortable about the lack of her attire.
He slapped his hands on his thighs in a way that nearly made her jump.
‘I could hardly allow you to be left with such a terrible impression of me after the events of last night, now could I? Your beautiful dress, ruined, my reputation, tarnished beyond repair,’ he said, shrugging as if it were that easy to dismiss.
‘So, the solution was to track me down and mysteriously appear at my hotel?’ Erin asked, trying to keep her frustration at his carelessness as to the very real damage of the night before out of her voice.
‘Oh but of course. Isn’t that what all beautiful young ladies like? A little bit of... excitement ? And I simply must make amends. So, come have breakfast with me,’ he commanded, coming to stand at his full height.