Her Exquisite Surrender. Lucy Ellis

doesn’t have to be for ever,’ he said. ‘You can divorce him after a few months. He can’t force you to stay with him indefinitely.’

      Natalie seriously wondered about that. Rich, powerful men were particularly adept at getting and keeping what they wanted. Look at their father, for instance. He had kept their mother chained to his side in spite of years of his infidelities and emotional cruelty. She could not bear to end up in the same situation as her mother. A trophy wife, a pretty adornment, a plaything that could be picked up and put down at will. With no power of her own other than a beauty that would one day fade, leaving her with nothing but diamonds, designer clothes and drink to compensate for her loneliness.

      ‘Why did you do it?’ she asked. ‘Why his hotel?’

      ‘Remember the last time we caught up?’ Lachlan said.

      Natalie remembered all too well. It had been a weekend in Paris a couple of months ago, when she had been attending a fabric show. Lachlan had been at a friend’s eighteenth birthday party just outside of the city. He had been ignominiously tossed out of his friend’s parents’ château after disgracing himself after a heavy night of drinking.

      ‘Yes,’ she said in stern reproach. ‘It took me weeks to get the smell of alcohol and vomit out of my coat.’

      ‘Yeah, well, I saw that gossip magazine open on the passenger seat,’ he said. ‘There was an article about Angelo and his latest lover. That twenty-one-year-old heiress from Texas?’

      She tried to ignore the dagger of jealousy that spiked her when she recalled the article, and the stunningly gorgeous young woman who had been draped on Angelo’s arm at some highbrow function.

      ‘So,’ she said. ‘What of it? It wasn’t the first time he’d squired some brainless little big-boobed bimbo to an event.’

      ‘No,’ Lachlan said. ‘But it was the first time I’d seen you visibly upset by it.’

      ‘I wasn’t upset,’ she countered quickly. ‘I was disgusted.’

      ‘Same difference.’

      Natalie blew out a breath and started pacing again. ‘So you took it upon yourself to get back at him by trashing one of the most luxurious hotel rooms in the whole of Europe just because you thought I was a little peeved?’

      ‘I know, I know, I know,’ Lachlan said. ‘It sounds so stupid now. I’m not sure why I did it. I guess I was just angry that he seemed to have it all together and you didn’t.’

      Natalie frowned. ‘What do you mean?’ she said. ‘I’m running a successful business all by myself. I’m paying for my own home. I’m happy with my life.’

      ‘Are you, Nat?’ he asked. ‘Are you really?’

      The silence was condemning.

      ‘You work ridiculous hours,’ Lachlan went on. ‘You never take holidays.’

      ‘I hate flying, that’s why.’

      ‘You could do a desensitising programme for that,’ he said.

      ‘I don’t have time.’

      ‘It’s because of what happened to Liam, isn’t it?’ Lachlan said. ‘You haven’t been on a plane since he drowned in Spain all those years ago.’

      Natalie felt the claws of guilt clutch her by the throat. She still remembered the tiny white coffin with her baby brother’s body in it being loaded on the tarmac. She had seen it from her window seat. She had sat there staring at it, with an empty, aching, hollow feeling in her chest.

       It had been her fault he had been found floating face-down in that pool.

      ‘I have to go,’ Lachlan said. ‘I’m being transferred.’

      Her attention snapped back to Lachlan’s dire situation. ‘Transferred where?’ she asked.

      ‘Just do what Angelo says, please?’ he said. ‘Nat, I need you to do what he wants. He’s promised to keep this out of the press. I have to accept his help. My life is over if I don’t. Please?’

      Natalie pinched the bridge of her nose until her eyes smarted with bitter angry tears. The cage of her conscience came down with a snap.

       She was trapped.

      * * *

      Angelo was finalising some details on a project in Malaysia when his receptionist announced he had a visitor. ‘It’s Natalie Armitage,’ Fiona said.

      He leaned back in his chair and smiled a victor’s smile. He had waited a long time for this opportunity. He wanted her to beg, to plead and to grovel. It was payback time for the misery she had put him through by walking out on him so heartlessly.

      ‘Tell her to wait,’ he said. ‘I have half an hour of paperwork to get through that can’t be put off.’

      There was a quick muffled exchange of words and Fiona came back on the intercom. ‘Miss Armitage said she’s not going to wait. She said if you don’t see her now she is going to get back on the train to Edinburgh and you’ll never see her again.’

      Angelo slowly drummed his fingers on the desk. He was used to Natalie’s obstinacy. She was a stubborn, headstrong little thing. Her independence had been one of the first things he had admired about her, and yet in the end it had been the thing that had frustrated him the most. She’d absolutely refused to bend to his will. She’d stood up to him as no one else had ever dared.

      He was used to people doing as he said. From a very young age he had given orders and people had obeyed them. It was part of the territory. Coming from enormous wealth, you had power. You had privilege and people respected that.

      But not his little Tatty.

      He leaned forward and pressed the button. ‘Tell her I’ll see her in fifteen minutes.’

      He had not even sat back in his chair when the door slammed open and Natalie came storming in. Her brown hair with its natural highlights was in disarray about her flushed-with-fury face. Her hands were clenched into combative fists by her sides, and her slate-blue eyes were flashing like the heart of a gas flame. He could see the outline of her beautiful breasts as they rose and fell beneath her top.

      His groin tightened and jammed with lust.

      ‘You … you bastard!’ she said.

      Angelo rocked back in his chair. ‘Cara,’ he said. ‘I’m absolutely delighted to see you, too. How long has it been? Four hours?’

      She glowered at him. ‘Where have you taken him?’

      He elevated one brow. ‘Where have I taken whom?’

      Her eyes narrowed to needle-thin slits. ‘My brother,’ she said. ‘I can’t contact him. He’s not answering his phone any more. How do I know you’re doing the right thing by him?’

      ‘Your brother is in good hands,’ he said. ‘That is as long as you do what is required.’

      Her eyes blazed with venomous hatred. ‘How can I trust you to uphold your side of the bargain?’ she asked.

      ‘You can trust me, Natalie.’

      She made a scoffing sound. ‘I’d rather take my chances with a death adder.’

      Angelo smiled a thin-lipped smile. ‘I’m afraid a death adder is not going to hold any sway with an Italian magistrate,’ he said. ‘I can get your brother out of harm’s way with the scrawl of my signature.’ He picked up a pen for effect. ‘What’s it going to be?’

      He saw her eyes go to his pen. He saw the way her jaw locked as she clenched her teeth. Her saw the way her slim throat rose and fell. He saw the battle on her face as her will locked horns with his. He felt the energy of her anger like a high-voltage current in the air.

      ‘You