Ruthless Revenge: Sweet Surrender. Annie West

chest clenched. No one since his mother had ever been completely on his side, not even his lawyer. He wasn’t used to it. That explained the weird, full sensation when Ella had looked at him with such sympathy, her mouth a pout of distress.

      He shook off a sense of disquiet. Deliberately he pulled her against his erection, enjoying her gasp. He enjoyed holding a woman who was all sweet curves and hollows. He looked forward to exploring every centimetre.

      A phone pierced the silence and Ella moved. Donato was surprised at the strength of his urge to tug her back.

      ‘That’s mine.’ She scrambled across the day bed, breasts swaying, her peach of a backside making his mouth dry as he imagined taking her from behind.

      ‘It can wait.’ He propped himself on one elbow for a better view. How could a woman who looked as good as Ella doubt her attractiveness? He’d put the pieces together now—her discomfort when he’d called her attractive, her haughtiness that defied him to find fault and the surprise in her silvery eyes when he’d pulled back to admire her.

      ‘It might be important.’ She scooped up her phone and, before he could stop her, stood.

      ‘On a Saturday?’ What could be so vital? Another lover? The idea punched his gut. Instinct, or maybe pride, told him Ella wasn’t promiscuous, despite the rampant sex they’d shared. He’d seen her shock when they came together so spectacularly and her dazed disbelief when rapture claimed her.

      He guessed her bravado hid a deep reserve.

      His gaze lingered on her hourglass figure, slightly broader at the hips and deliciously narrow at the waist. Long shapely legs and hair like dark honey. She wrapped a nearby towel around herself and scowled at the phone.

      ‘Hello, Dad.’ Her voice was wary. More than wary.

      Donato’s interest stirred.

      Ella shot a harried glance at him then moved away. But the curve of the building improved the acoustics so he caught part of the conversation.

      ‘No, it’s not all settled! We’ll find another way.’ She hunched the phone against her ear and pulled back her shoulder-length hair in a gesture that screamed frustration.

      ‘You wouldn’t! That’s Rob’s money. You have to repay that before you do anything else.’ Another look over her shoulder before she walked to the end of the pool.

      Donato watched her long-legged stride. She couldn’t keep still. One hand slashed the air and her mouth turned down as if she’d swallowed something sour.

      Talking to Reg Sanderson had that effect on him too.

      So there was a rift between father and daughter. He’d guessed that, seeing the lack of affection between them. Plus there was outrage in Ella’s voice when she spoke of Rob’s money. Rob, her brother? Had Sanderson got his claws into his kids’ assets?

      Donato shouldn’t have promised not to investigate her and, by extension, her siblings. It tied his hands. There was far more he wanted to know, but having given her his word—

      She strode back, her features taut. Something clenched hard inside him.

      ‘Come here.’ Donato put out his hand. ‘You need someone to help you feel better. I’m just the man.’

      His invitation wasn’t entirely selfish. He didn’t like her troubled expression, knowing Sanderson had caused it. Another reason to hate the man.

      Ella lifted her hand as if to take his, then stopped.

      ‘No.’ Her hand dropped and Donato was surprised at the strength of his disappointment. ‘Thank you. But...’ She shook her head and the afternoon sun caught the sheen of honey gilt. ‘I need to go.’

      Donato was about to insist she remain when he read the strain around her mouth. He knew he could have her in his bed all night, enjoying what his body urged him to take. He could weasel the information he wanted after breaking down her defences.

      He let his arm fall. He wanted Ella’s passion and her sweet body. He wanted to understand her and her relationship with her father. But he wouldn’t seduce the details from her.

      His belly churned in a moment of unfamiliar disquiet. He was already taking advantage, pretending to want marriage. It wasn’t just Sanderson pressuring her, putting the shadows beneath her bright eyes.

      Amazingly, for the first time in years, doubt shivered through what passed for his conscience. More than doubt, it was guilt, its sharp blade scraping.

      Donato sat up, his jaw setting as Ella gathered her clothes. She might be vulnerable and sassy, sexy and funny and, he suspected, brave, but he couldn’t allow her to stand in the way of justice.

      Nothing would save Reg Sanderson from his deserts. Not even the fact his daughter was the most appealing, fascinating woman Donato could recall knowing.

      He stood, retrieving her floaty top that had landed on the day bed’s high canopy.

      ‘Thank you.’ Her eyes didn’t meet his and he caught again that hint of embarrassment.

      Their hands brushed and sensation jolted. Maldición! Need was like an electric current running through him.

      ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

      She shook her head and he had to restrain himself from catching those honey-brown tresses and hauling her close again.

      ‘I’m busy.’

      ‘Be ready at nine. I’ll collect you.’

      ‘You don’t know where I live. And you promised not to set your investigators onto me.’

      Donato suppressed a smile. That was better. Her eyes shone with challenge and her chin notched high.

      ‘I didn’t promise not to follow you home.’ He let that sink in. ‘I’ll just toss on some clothes.’ He reached for his shirt, absently noting a couple of missing buttons.

      Her deep sigh drew his attention. Despite her defiant air, she clutched her clothes close, hiding herself. As if he couldn’t perfectly recall those enticing curves.

      ‘Okay. I’ll meet you tomorrow. I’ll come here at midday.’

      ‘Nine.’

      ‘Eleven.’

      ‘Nine.’ He brushed her hair off her cheek. ‘And I promise not to ring you after midnight.’ She shivered and he moved closer, inhaling her skin’s delicate perfume, like sweet peas and sunshine.

      ‘Nine-thirty, then. And you won’t call me at all.’

      Donato didn’t say anything. If she thought he’d pass up a chance to hear her voice, husky and delicious, when he couldn’t have her in his bed...well, she didn’t know him yet.

      * * *

      ‘That’s it. You’ve got the hang of it now.’ Donato’s voice was warm with approval and encouragement and Ella felt emotion flare. Pleasure? Pride? Or excitement at being so close to him?

      No time to work it out now. She had to concentrate.

      ‘Shift your left hand.’

      She watched as Donato demonstrated. Like her, he was suspended on a rope, halfway down a rock face. Except, unlike her, he was perfectly at ease. His eyes danced with pleasure and she’d seen his exhilaration earlier as he’d abseiled down the cliff then swarmed back up with an efficiency that left her in breathless awe.

      She knew he was strong. It was two weeks since she’d become intimately acquainted with his body. But seeing him now she realised how carefully he leashed that power when they made love.

      ‘Ella? Are you okay?’

      ‘Fine.’ She wrenched her gaze to the rock and made herself concentrate on his instructions. Carefully she stepped backwards, feeling the rope play out in her gloved hand.