Ruthless Revenge: Sweet Surrender. Annie West

clasping it loosely. ‘It will be all right.’ His voice was low and reassuring, like a wave of soft warmth. ‘All you need to know is that while the wedding plans go ahead so does my support for your father.’

      For a heady moment she wanted to sink against him, trust that it really would be all right. But how could that be?

      ‘Except you’re threatening him.’ And, as a result, the rest of her family.

      ‘You care so much about his money? You’re dependent on it?’

      Her eyebrows arched. She hadn’t been dependent on Reg Sanderson’s money since the day she turned seventeen and walked out of the door to pursue her own life. It didn’t matter that her dreams were mundane by her father’s standards. Becoming a nurse, doing something concrete and practical to help people. Being financially independent. Choosing her own friends. All those things had been important milestones.

      ‘I care that you think you can blackmail me into marriage. It’s not ethical.’ She speared him with a look and tugged to free her hand from his grip. It didn’t work and she shot to her feet.

      Donato rose at the same time, looming close. ‘You want ethics from me? From an ex-crim?’ His jaw set.

      ‘Why not?’ Ella should be intimidated by the glint in his eyes and by the way he crowded her, his wide shoulders hemming her in. Instead she felt a delicious thrill as she arched her neck to hold his gaze. With Donato she’d never felt more starkly the divide between male and female. She revelled in his size, his brooding presence and the unfamiliar sensation of being almost petite.

       Was she insane?

      ‘You’re not a thug, Donato.’ There was too much intense thought behind his alert gaze for that to be true. And too much control—it was stamped on his features. Then there was the way he’d made love to her...

      For the first time it seemed words eluded him. He stared as if he’d never seen her like before.

      What? Had he really thought she’d have given herself to a man she feared?

      ‘You don’t say,’ he said at last. ‘And you’re an expert on thugs? Growing up in a north-shore mansion and attending a posh private school?’ His words were a silky taunt and she wondered at the anger she’d inadvertently stirred. Because she refused to think the worst of him? Had she questioned too closely?

      ‘You did check on me.’ Ella blinked, amazed at how betrayed she felt. She tasted disappointment, a bitter tang on her tongue.

      Donato frowned. ‘I said I hadn’t. It doesn’t take an investigator to know your father wouldn’t send his darling daughter anywhere she’d mix with the wrong sort.’

      Ella’s stomach swooped in relief. She hadn’t wanted to believe Donato had lied.

      She huffed a mirthless laugh. She’d never been Reg’s ‘darling daughter’. If only Donato knew, her school had had its share of bullies. Maybe if she’d been pretty or pert or less studious they wouldn’t have targeted her.

      ‘I’ve met some thugs in my time.’ Her father being one. ‘They bully those who seem weaker. But really they’re cowards, scared of anyone stronger.’

      ‘Yet you don’t think of me as a bully?’

      Ella drew a deep breath, then wished she hadn’t as she dragged in his spicy warm scent. It made her want to kiss that hard beautiful mouth. She dragged her hand free and stepped back, her chair grating across the flagstones.

      ‘No, I don’t.’ Donato was demanding, arrogant, clever and ruthless. But he’d been considerate, reassuring and almost...tender. He’d kept his word, refusing to have her investigated because he knew the idea revolted her. He’d been honest, up to a point.

      ‘Tell me about the man you attacked.’

      Donato’s head reared back. ‘What makes you think I want to talk about that?’

      She shrugged. ‘Why wouldn’t you? Don’t tell me you’re scared I’ll judge you?’

      Instead of bridling at the taunt, Donato surveyed her with a thoroughness that brought all that reckless awareness straight to the surface in a blaze like wildfire.

      Ignoring the flare of arousal, she stared straight back. She needed to understand him.

      ‘Why did you fight with him?’

      He shrugged, his expression closed. ‘He deserved it. He hurt someone.’

      Ella frowned. She hadn’t read about anyone else in the fight, just the teenage Donato and a forty-year-old man. Yet it had been the older man carted off to hospital after the police intervened.

      ‘So you were protecting someone?’ Her chest contracted at the idea of a teenager taking on a grown man to save someone else.

      She’d never had a protector in her life, had always fought her own battles, but the idea held huge appeal. Perhaps because no one had ever stood up for her. It made his actions more understandable, more forgivable.

      Ella counted one breath, two, three, before finally he shook his head.

      ‘It wasn’t that simple. Don’t imagine I’m some hero.’ His mouth twisted harshly. ‘I’m not.’

      Her thoughts stalled at his tone, and at that flash of dark emotion. He looked...tortured. And she’d swear she heard desolation in his stark words. Then, even as the impression formed, his expression was wiped clear.

      But that split second had been enough to set Ella’s thoughts whirling.

      Did he blame himself for not protecting this other person? Clearly something still ate at him, despite the passage of time. Donato was in his mid-thirties, yet long-ago hurt was buried beneath all that surface sangfroid.

      Whatever he felt in that carefully guarded soul, it ran deep and strong.

      Instead of frightening her, the knowledge drew her. She wanted to smooth her hands over his set shoulders, press herself against him and learn all there was to know about Donato Salazar.

      Fear jolted through her. Fear of how much she wanted to break down that wall of superior calm and find the man behind it.

       You haven’t known him a day and already you want so much!

      Alarm made her voice abrupt. ‘Is that the only time you’ve been violent?’

      ‘What is this, an interview?’

      Ella notched her chin high. ‘You’re the one talking about marriage.’

      ‘I’ve never been violent towards a woman. It’s not something you have to worry about.’

      ‘Because you say so?’ She crossed her arms over her chest.

      ‘It’s not something I’d ever do.’ Indignation flashed in his eyes, but it was the proud set of his chin, the distaste in his flared nostrils and flat mouth that told her she’d struck a nerve. ‘I was brought up to respect women. You have nothing to fear from me.’

      Scary how easy it was for her to believe him.

      ‘What about men?’

      ‘If you were a man we wouldn’t be having this conversation.’ His voice dropped to the deep, resonant pitch that made her want to do something crazy, like drag his head down to hers and kiss him till he told her all his secrets.

      She made herself take a single step back from him. His jaw tightened.

      ‘You haven’t answered my question.’

      ‘Am I physically dangerous?’ He sighed and shook his head. ‘It was all a long time ago. I told you on the phone. I learned to think before I act. Prison is a great teacher.’

      He lifted one finger to follow the line of that narrow scar bisecting his cheek. ‘I thought I was