Her Exquisite Surrender. Lucy Ellis

her gaze with the force of his. ‘What your brother did to one of my hotel rooms in Rome is a criminal offence.’

      ‘Yes,’ she said, swallowing again. ‘I know. But he’s been going through a difficult stage just now, and I—’

      One of his jet-black brows lifted satirically. ‘What “difficult stage” would that be?’ he asked. ‘Has Daddy taken away his Porsche or cut back his allowance?’

      She pressed her lips together, summoning control over emotions that were threatening to spill over. How dared Angelo mock what her brother had to deal with? Lachlan was a ticking time bomb. It was up to her to stop him from self-destructing. She hadn’t been able to save her baby brother all those years ago, but she would move heaven and earth to get it right this time with Lachlan.

      ‘He’s just a kid,’ she began. ‘He’s only just left school and—’

      ‘He’s eighteen,’ Angelo said through tight, angry lips. ‘He’s old enough to vote and in my opinion old enough to face up to the consequences of his actions. He and his drunken friends have caused over a hundred thousand pounds’ worth of damage to one of my most prestigious hotels.’

      Natalie’s stomach nosedived. Was he exaggerating? The way her mother had described it had made her think it hadn’t been much more than the cost of a carpet-clean and the replacement of a few furnishings—perhaps a repaint on one of the walls.

      What had Lachlan been thinking? What on earth had made him go on such a crazy rampage?

      ‘I’m prepared to reimburse you for the damage, but before I hand over any money I’d like to see the damage for myself,’ she said, with a jut of her chin.

      His dark eyes challenged hers. ‘So you’re prepared to foot the bill personally, are you?’

      She eyeballed him back, even though her stomach was churning at the menacing look in his eyes. ‘Within reason.’

      His top lip curled. ‘You have no clue about what you’re letting yourself in for,’ he said. ‘Do you have any idea what your brother gets up to when he’s out night-clubbing with his friends?’

      Natalie was all too aware, and for the last few months it had been keeping her awake at night. She knew why Lachlan was behaving the way he was, but there was little she could do to stop him. Lachlan had been the replacement child after Liam had died—the lost son reincarnated. Since birth he had been forced to live not his own life but Liam’s. All the hopes and dreams their parents had envisaged for Liam had been transferred to Lachlan, and lately he had started to buckle under the pressure. She was terrified that one day soon he would go, or be pushed too far.

       She already had one death on her hands. She could not bear to have another.

      ‘How do you know Lachlan is responsible for the damage?’ she asked. ‘How do you know it wasn’t one of his friends?’

      Angelo looked at her with dagger-sharp eyes. ‘The room was booked in his name,’ he said. ‘It was his credit card that was presented at check-in. He is legally responsible, even if he didn’t so much as knock a cushion out of place.’

      Natalie suspected her brother had done a whole lot more than rearrange a few sofa cushions. She had more than once witnessed him in the aftermath of one of his drinking binges. Lachlan wasn’t a sleepy drunk or a happy, loquacious one. A few too many drinks unleashed a rage inside him that was as terrifying as it was sudden. And yet a few hours later he would have no memory of the things he had said and done.

      So far he had managed to escape prosecution, but only because their rich and influential father had pulled in some favours with the authorities.

       But that was here in Britain.

      Right now Lachlan was at the mercy of the Italian authorities—which was why she had come to London to appeal to Angelo on his behalf. Of all the hotels in Rome, why had he stayed at one of Angelo Bellandini’s?

      Natalie opened her bag and took out her chequebook with a sigh of resignation. ‘All right,’ she said, hunting for a pen. ‘I’ll take your word for it and pay for the damage.’

      Angelo barked out a sardonic laugh. ‘You think after you scrawl your signature across that cheque I’ll simply overlook this?’ he asked.

      She quickly disguised another swallow. ‘You want more than one hundred thousand pounds?’ she asked, in a voice that sounded too high—squeaky, almost.

      He looked at her, his eyes meshing with hers in a lockdown that made the silence throb with palpable tension. She felt it moving up her spine, vertebrae by vertebrae. She felt it on her skin, in the ghosting of goose bumps fluttering along her flesh. She felt it—shockingly—between her thighs, as if he had reached down and stroked her there with one of his long, clever fingers.

      He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. She could read the subtext of that dark, mocking gaze. He didn’t give a toss about the money. It wasn’t money he wanted. He had more than enough of his own.

      Natalie knew exactly what he wanted. She had known it the minute she had stepped into his office and locked gazes with him.

       He wanted her.

      ‘Take it or leave it,’ she said, and slammed the cheque on the desk between them.

      He picked up the cheque and slowly and deliberately tore it into pieces, then let them fall like confetti on the desk, all the while holding her gaze with the implacable and glittering force of his. ‘As soon as you walk out of here I’ll notify the authorities in Rome to press charges,’ he said. ‘Your brother will go to prison. I’ll make sure of it.’

      Natalie’s heart banged against the wall of her chest like a pendulum slammed by a prize-fighter’s punch. How long would her brother last in a foreign prison? He would be housed amongst murderers and thieves and rapists. It could be years before a magistrate heard his case. He was just a kid. Yes, he had done wrong, but it wasn’t his fault—not really. He needed help, not imprisonment.

      ‘Why are you doing this?’ she asked.

      His mouth lifted in a half-smile, his eyes taunting hers with merciless intent. ‘You can’t guess, mia piccola?’

      She drew in a painfully tight breath. ‘Isn’t this taking revenge a little too far? What happened between us is between us. It has nothing to do with my brother. It has nothing to do with anyone but us.’ With me, she added silently. It’s always been to do with me.

      His eyes glinted dangerously and his smile completely vanished until his lips were just a thin line of contempt. ‘Why did you do it?’ he asked. ‘Why did you leave me for a man you picked up in a bar like a trashy little two-bit hooker?’

      Natalie couldn’t hold his gaze. It wasn’t a lie she was particularly proud of. But back then it had been the only way she could see of getting him to let her go. He had fallen in love with her. He had mentioned marriage and babies. He had already bought an engagement ring. She had come across it while putting his socks away. It had glinted at her with its diamond eye, taunting her, reminding her of all she wanted but could never have.

       She had panicked.

      ‘I wasn’t in love with you.’ That was at least the truth … sort of. She had taught herself not to love. Not to feel. Not to be at the mercy of emotions that could not be controlled.

      If you loved you lost.

      If you cared you got hurt.

      If you opened your heart someone would rip it out of your chest when you least expected it.

      The physical side of things … well, that had been different. She had let herself lose control. Not that she’d really had a choice. Angelo had seen to that. Her body had been under the mastery of his from the first time he had kissed her. She might have locked down her emotions, but her physical response to him still echoed in her