Mistresses: Lethal Attraction. Katherine Garbera

either got to buck the trend or wait.’ Edoardo picked up her left hand. ‘So where’s the ring?’

      She snatched her hand away. ‘I’m having one designed specially.’

      ‘Who’s paying for it?’

      She frowned at him. ‘What sort of question is that?’

      ‘So you’re paying,’ he said with a mocking look.

      ‘I don’t have to discuss this with you,’ she said. ‘It’s none of your damn business.’

      ‘Yeah, well, that’s where you’re wrong, Bella,’ he said. ‘It is my business to see that you don’t get ripped off by some gold-digging sleazebag. That’s why your father appointed me as your financial guardian. He didn’t want you to be taken advantage of until you were old enough to understand how the world works.’

      ‘I’m twenty-four years old!’ she said. ‘Of course I know how the world works. My father was old-fashioned. He was two generations older than my friends’ fathers. You had no right to agree to this stupid scheme. You should’ve talked him out of it. I should’ve been given control when I turned twenty-one.’

      ‘You were too young at twenty-one,’ he said. ‘I think you’re still too young even now. You don’t know what you want.’

      Her hands were in tight little fists by her sides. ‘I know I don’t want you messing up my life,’ she said. ‘I love Julian. I want to be his wife. I want a family with him. You can’t stop me marrying him. I’ll fight you every step of the way.’

      ‘Fight me,’ he said. ‘I’ll look forward to it. But you won’t win this, Bella. I will not allow your father’s life’s work to be frittered away by your impulsive choice of a partner. I’ll put a hold on your allowance. I’ll freeze your assets. You won’t have a penny to buy a cup of coffee, much less pay for a wedding.’

      ‘You can’t do this!’

      ‘How long have you known this man?’

      Her cheeks blushed like a rose. ‘Long enough to know he’s my soulmate.’

      He nailed her with his gaze. ‘How long?’

      ‘Three months,’ she mumbled.

      ‘What the—?’

      ‘Don’t say it.’ She cut him off before he could let out his forceful expletive. ‘It was love at first sight.’

      ‘That’s a load of crap,’ he said. ‘You haven’t even slept with this guy. How do you know if you’re compatible?’

      ‘I don’t expect you to understand,’ she said. ‘You don’t even have a soul.’

      Edoardo was inclined to agree with her. His childhood had bludgeoned his heart until he had hidden it away for ever. He had taught himself not to feel anything but the most basic of feelings. He hadn’t loved anyone since he was five years old. He wasn’t sure he could love any more. It was a language he had forgotten, along with most of his native tongue. He had taught himself not to need people. Needing people left you vulnerable, and the one thing he would never allow himself to be again was vulnerable.

      ‘Let’s leave me out of this,’ he said. ‘What I’m concerned about is you. You’re doing exactly what your father was afraid you would do—you’re letting your heart rule your head. It should be the other way around.’

      ‘You can’t choose who you fall in love with,’ she said. ‘It just … happens.’

      ‘You’re not in love with him,’ he said. ‘You’re in love with the idea of marriage and family, of security and respectability.’

      She flounced to the other side of the kitchen, taking her wine with her. ‘I’m not going to talk about this any more,’ she said. ‘I’m marrying Julian, and you can’t stop me.’

      ‘Will he wait a whole year for you?’ Edoardo asked.

      She lowered her glass and sent him a furious scowl. ‘You heartless, controlling bastard.’

      ‘Sticks and stones,’ he said, picking up his own wine and raising it in a toast.

      She slammed her glass down so hard the stem broke and wine swirled in a red arc like a splash of blood. She yelped and jumped backwards, clutching her right hand.

      ‘Are you all right?’ he asked, stepping towards her.

      ‘I’m fine.’ She bit down on her lip.

      He took her hand and unpeeled her fingers to find a little gash in the pad of her thumb. ‘You silly little fool,’ he said. ‘You could’ve severed a tendon.’

      ‘It’s nothing.’ She tried to pull her hand away but he didn’t let go. She glared up at him. ‘Do you mind?’

      ‘You need a plaster on that,’ he said. ‘There’s a first-aid kit in the downstairs bathroom. Come with me.’

      She looked as if she was going to defy him but then she gave a frustrated sigh and allowed him to lead her to the bathroom next to the conservatory. ‘I can sort it out myself,’ she grumbled. ‘I’m not a little child.’

      ‘So stop acting like one.’

      She flashed him a furious scowl. ‘Why don’t you stop acting like an overbearing ogre?’

      ‘Sit on the bath stool,’ Edoardo instructed as he pulled out the drawer where the first-aid kit was stored.

      She sat and held out her hand with a recalcitrant look on her face. ‘It’s just a scratch.’

      ‘It’s just shy of needing a stitch,’ he said as he checked the wound for traces of glass.

      ‘Ouch!’

      ‘Sorry,’ he said.

      She glowered at him. ‘I bet you’re not.’

      ‘You know me so well.’

      She gave him a lengthy look. ‘Does anyone know you, Edoardo?’ she asked.

      He shifted his gaze to her thumb as he carefully placed a plaster over the wound. She had switched from spitting cat to gentle dove within a heartbeat. He had seen her work her lethal charm on others. He had seen grown men fall over like ninepins when she gave them that misty, doe-eyed look. She knew the feminine power she had and exploited it whenever she could.

      But he was not going to let her manipulate him.

      ‘What makes you ask that?’ he asked casually.

      ‘You don’t seem to have a lot of friends,’ she said.

      ‘You don’t seem to need people like other people do.’

      ‘I have what I need in terms of companionship,’ he said.

      ‘Who is your best friend?’

      He released her hand and moved to the basin to wash his hands. ‘You should take care of that thumb,’ he said. ‘You don’t want to get it infected.’

      ‘Edoardo?’

      He dried his hands on the nearest towel and then shoved it back on the rail. ‘I’d better go clean up that glass before Fergus steps on it,’ he said.

      She bit her lip again. ‘I’m sorry …’

      He gave her a brief glance before he shouldered open the door. ‘We all have our limits, Bella.’

       CHAPTER THREE

      WHEN Bella came back from the bathroom, there was no sign of the spill of red wine or any shards of glass. Fergus was still lying on his padded bed near the cooker. Edoardo was