The Ultimate Risk. Chantelle Shaw

on his insides.

      ‘What a busy life you must lead if you do not have one free night,’ he murmured. ‘Perhaps we can postpone my invitation to dinner until my next visit to Poole?’ he added softly when she blushed. He held out his hand. ‘Give me your key.’

      ‘Why?’ Gina could not hide the suspicion in her voice. What did he want? Was he hoping she would invite him in for coffee, and then expect the invitation to lead to something more? Panic churned inside her. Since her divorce she had been on a couple of dinner dates, but she had never been alone with a man. Simon had caused untold damage to her self-confidence, she acknowledged heavily. She wanted to move on, have other relationships and maybe even fall in love, but sometimes she despaired that she would ever be able to trust a man again.

      ‘I was merely going to see you safely inside,’ Lanzo explained steadily, taking the key that Gina was clutching in her fingers.

      He stood staring down at her for a few moments, and her breath caught in her throat when something flared in his eyes. She wondered if he was going to ignore her earlier plea and kiss her after all, and she realised that part of her wished he would pull her into his arms and slant his sensual mouth over hers. She wanted to forget Simon’s cruelty and lose herself in Lanzo’s potent magnetism. Unconsciously she moistened her lower lip with the tip of her tongue, and heard his swiftly indrawn breath.

      ‘Buona notte, Gina,’ he said quietly, and then, to her shock, he turned and walked away, striding along the quay without a single glance over his shoulder. His tall, broad-shouldered figure was gradually swallowed up by the darkness, and the ring of his footsteps faded into the night, leaving her feeling strangely bereft.

      For a few moments she stared after him, and then stepped into her flat and shut the door, realising as she did so that she had been holding her breath. Why on earth, she asked herself angrily, did she feel an overwhelming urge to burst into tears? Was it the thought that she would probably never see Lanzo again after she had refused his invitation to dinner? He was a billionaire playboy who could have any woman he wanted and he was not likely to bother with her again.

      She was too wound up to go to bed, and after flicking through the TV channels and finding nothing that captured her attention she headed for the bathroom and ran a bath. Lanzo’s darkly handsome face filled her consciousness, and with a sigh she sank into the fragrant bubbles and allowed her mind to drift back ten years.

      She had been so excited to be offered a job as a waitress at the swanky new Italian restaurant on the quay, Gina recalled. She’d just finished her A-levels and been desperate to earn some money to spend on new summer clothes. While she had been at school she had received a small allowance from her father, but the family farm barely made a profit and money had always been tight.

      Lanzo had arrived in Poole for the opening night of the

      Di Cosimo restaurant and stayed for the summer. Golden-skinned, exotic, and heart-stoppingly sexy, he had been so far removed from the few boys of her own age Gina had dated that she had been blown away by his stunning looks and lazy charm.

      He had a reputation as a playboy, and he’d always had a gorgeous woman clinging to his arm. How she had envied those women, Gina remembered ruefully. How she had longed to be beautiful and blonde and thin. But Lanzo had never seemed to notice her—until one day he had spoken to her and she had been so tongue-tied that she had stared at the floor, praying he would not notice her scarlet face.

      ‘Don’t slouch,’ he had instructed her. ‘You should hold your head up and be confident—not scurry around like a little mouse. When you look down no one can see your eyes, which is a pity because you have beautiful eyes,’ he had added slowly, and he had tilted her chin and stared down at her.

      She had hardly been able to breathe, and when he had smiled she had practically melted at his feet and smiled shyly back at him. And that had been the start, she thought. From that day Lanzo had made a point of saying hello to her, or bidding her goodnight at the end of her shift. When he had learned that she had to race out of the restaurant when it closed so that she could catch the last bus home he had insisted on driving her back to the farm, and those journeys in his sports car had become the highlight of her days.

      Lanzo drove at a hair-raising speed, and that first night Gina had gripped her seat as they had hurtled down the narrow country lanes, the hedgerows flashing past in a blur.

      ‘Relax—I’m a good driver,’ he had said in an amused voice. ‘Tell me about yourself.’

      That had certainly made her forget her fear that he would misjudge the next sharp bend and they would crash. What on earth was there to tell? She’d been sure the mundane details of her life would be of no interest to a playboy billionaire, but she had obediently chatted to him about growing up on the farm with her father and stepmother, and her two stepsisters.

      ‘My parents divorced when I was eight, and when Dad married Linda a few years later she brought her daughters, Hazel and Sarah, to live at the farm.’

      ‘What about your mother?’ Lanzo asked. ‘Why didn’t you live with her after the divorce?’

      ‘Dad thought it would be better for me to stay with him. My mother had been having an affair behind my father’s back, and one day I came home from school to find a note saying she had left us for one of the labourers Dad had employed on the farm. Mum never stayed in one place for long, or with one man,’ Gina admitted. ‘I visited her occasionally, but I was happier living with Dad and Linda.’

      Witnessing her mother’s chaotic lifestyle and her numerous volatile relationships had made Gina realise that she wanted her future to be very different. Marriage, a happy home and children might not be fashionable goals, but she wasn’t ashamed to admit that they were more important to her than a high-flying career.

      Lanzo drove her home several times a week, and she slowly grew more relaxed with him—although her intense awareness of him never lessened. He was always charming, but sometimes she sensed a dark mood beneath his smile. There was a restless tension about him, and an air of deep sadness that puzzled and disturbed her, but he never spoke of his personal life and she was too shy to pry.

      ‘I find you peaceful company, Gina,’ he told her one night when he stopped the car outside the farm gates.

      ‘Is that a polite way of saying I’m boring?’ she blurted out, wishing with all her heart that he thought she was gorgeous and sexy. Peaceful made her sound like a nun.

      ‘Of course not. I don’t find you at all boring,’ he assured her quietly. He turned his head towards her, and the brilliant gleam in his green eyes made Gina’s heart lurch. ‘You are very lovely,’ he murmured deeply, before he brushed his mouth over hers in a kiss that was as soft as thistledown and left her yearning for more.

      ‘I checked the rota and saw that it’s your day off tomorrow. Would you like to come out with me on my boat? ‘

      Would she?

      She barely slept that night, and the next day when she heard Lanzo’s car pull up on the drive she dashed out to meet him, her face pink with an excitement that at eighteen she was too young and naïve to try and disguise.

      It had been a glorious day, Gina remembered, sliding deeper beneath the bathwater. The sun had shone from a cloudless blue sky as Lanzo had steered the luxurious motor cruiser he had chartered out of the harbour. His dark mood seemed to have disappeared, and he’d been charismatic and mouth-wateringly sexy, his faded jeans sitting low on his hips and his chest bared to reveal an impressive six-pack. Gina had watched him with a hungry yearning in her eyes, and her heart had raced when he had pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

      They had cruised along the coast, picnicked in a secluded bay, and later he had made love to her in the cabin below deck. The sound of the waves lapping against the boat and the mewing cry of the gulls had mingled with his low murmurs of pleasure when he had stroked his hands over her trembling, eager body.

      There had been one moment when her hesitancy had made him pause. ‘It’s not your first time, is it?’ he had asked with a frown.