Ruthless Revenge: Sweet Surrender. Annie West

not surprised.’

      He shrugged and walked back to where she stood in the centre of the circular foyer. ‘I know you’re a volatile woman.’

      Ella snorted. Volatile? She was the stable one of the family. The one who never had tantrums. The one who quietly got on with whatever needed to be done. Before she left home it had been she, not her father or older sister, who made sure the housekeeper and gardener received their instructions and their pay.

      ‘I’m not volatile. I’m justifiably annoyed. There’s a difference.’ She breathed deep, feeling indignation well. ‘Or will you decide my reaction is due to the fact I’m female?’ That had always been one of her father’s favourite put-downs.

      Donato raised his hands as if in surrender. Yet the spark in those dark blue eyes told her he was enjoying himself too much to give in.

      ‘I’m a lot of things, Ella. But not sexist.’

      He was far closer than she liked. Too close. Her stomach gave a betraying wobble.

      She swallowed hard as the aroma of rich coffee and warm male skin enveloped her. It was as if her body was absorbed in a different conversation than the one coming out of her mouth. A conversation that was about heat and desire and that phantom ache down deep in her womb.

      She didn’t know how to combat it. Creating distance between them was the obvious option but she wouldn’t let him see even a hint of fear. She’d learned young that revealing weakness only made things worse.

      ‘I want to know what’s going on.’

      ‘Well, since you opted to come here rather than to Bennelong Point, I’ve arranged for us to share lunch on the terrace.’

      Had she ever met anyone so coolly sure of himself? So infuriating? He cast even her father into the shade with his supreme self-confidence.

      Yet, despite her annoyance, Ella didn’t get the same feeling from Donato as she did from her father, who so blatantly exulted in triumphing over others. Donato was manipulating her yet she didn’t feel bullied. More...challenged.

      Which showed how dangerous was this undercurrent of attraction humming in her veins. It tempted her to put a pretty gloss on Donato’s outrageous demands.

      Ella crossed her arms, glaring. ‘I didn’t come here for lunch.’

      ‘You need to look after yourself. You didn’t stop for breakfast, did you?’ Donato took a step closer and suddenly the spacious two-storey room shrank around them. Ella breathed deeper, needing oxygen. ‘You were still in bed when I rang.’ The glint in his dark eyes reminded her of his teasing as she lay naked in bed, and heat drilled down through her belly.

      Ella stiffened, ignoring the telltale flush rising in her throat and cheeks.

      ‘I want the truth. You don’t need to marry Reg Sanderson’s daughter. The idea of marriage to cement closer business ties doesn’t wash. You’re the one my father needs, not the other way around. Why are you playing along with the idea?’

      For a millisecond Donato’s eyes widened, giving her a glimpse of surprise in a flash of indigo that rivalled the ocean’s brilliance. Then his eyelids lowered and his gaze became unreadable.

      Ella’s breathing quickened. There was something there. Something she’d said, something he didn’t expect her to know. But what? She racked her brain but she’d only stated the obvious. She could find no significance there.

      Yet she couldn’t shake the feeling she’d inadvertently hit on something important.

      ‘Things aren’t always as clear-cut as they seem.’ Donato paused. ‘Your father’s proposal has definite advantages.’

      Ella jammed her hands on her hips. ‘What advantages? Name one.’

      In answer Donato’s eyes skated down, past the warm blush in her throat, over her loose-fitting top, lightweight trousers and flat sandals.

      She’d dressed for comfort rather than sophistication. Her floaty aqua and silver top was a favourite. Now, under Donato’s trawling stare, Ella had a qualm that it had somehow suddenly become transparent. Surely his gaze grazed her skin, following every curve the material should have hidden. As if he already knew her intimately.

      Already. The word was a promise she couldn’t dislodge from her brain.

      Ella’s body came alive, just as it had last night. She’d told herself that had been an illusion created by tiredness and stress. But she didn’t feel tired now. She felt wired, waves of energy ripping through her, awakening every nerve ending.

      She jutted her jaw. ‘You don’t have to marry me to get sex.’

      ‘Why, Ella—’ his eyes gleamed with a banked heat and his mouth curved in a slow smile that turned her insides to mush ‘—that’s quite an offer. I’m charmed and delighted.’

      For one insane moment she almost smiled back, till her brain processed his words.

      ‘I’m offering nothing.’ Her head snapped back, her pulse thrumming at the look in his eyes. ‘I’m just stating the obvious. Even if you wanted to go to bed with me, marriage isn’t necessary.’ Unfortunately her explanation came out in an unsteady rush as he leaned closer.

      ‘Such a tempting idea,’ he murmured. ‘I’m glad you suggested it.’

      ‘Stop it, Donato. You know I’m not suggesting anything.’ But now she couldn’t banish the idea of them, together.

      ‘You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?’ His voice dropped an octave to a warm rumble she felt deep inside. ‘I am too, Ella. I find the idea intoxicating.’

      He lifted his hand to cup her cheek and sensation juddered through her. Ella shot back a step, her breath snagging. Instead of releasing her, Donato followed, his broad callused palm hot on her skin.

      She felt crowded, surrounded.

       Excited.

      Silence thickened. The saw of her breathing seemed loud, as did the quickened patter of her pulse. But it was the sensations detonating through her body that panicked Ella.

      Donato had sabotaged all her erogenous zones, attuning them to his touch. Her lips tingled as his gaze dropped to her mouth. Her nipples budded against the sensible bra she wore, as if mocking her determination not to dress up for Donato. Her silky top stirred as she hauled in deeper breaths, the touch of fabric a barely there caress. And between her legs...

      Ella swallowed hard, drowning in the slumberous heat of those searing eyes.

      ‘Let me go, Donato.’ Her voice was as shaky as she felt. Not with fear, but because her body came alive so instantly, so completely, at his touch.

      With every atom of her being she was aware of his big frame mere inches from her own. It was as if he projected a force-field that sent shock waves across her skin and deeper, heating her core.

      ‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘I’ve waited too long.’ His palm slid down her cheek to caress her jaw then thrust back into her hair. Ella’s neck arched and she bit down a sigh at the luxurious feel of his fingers against her scalp. Tiny little shivers coursed down her back and shoulders.

      ‘Rubbish.’ Her voice was far too soft. She cleared her throat and tried to summon the energy to move away. Her knees had grown wobbly. ‘We haven’t known each other a day.’

      Remarkable to think it was less than twenty-four hours since they met.

      Donato bent his head even closer and Ella’s breath hitched. He held her captive with that remarkable dark blue gaze. ‘It’s still been too long. I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you.’ The words were pure seduction, low and tantalising.

      Ella told herself it was just a line he tossed out, but even then she couldn’t dredge up the power to move.