The Mediterranean Billionaire's Blackmail Bargain

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He stopped at the top of the stairs and Alicia cannoned into his back. He turned and gripped her arms, holding her steady when she reeled slightly from coming into contact with his hard, muscle-packed form.

‘Enough! I don’t want to hear another word about this ridiculous claim. A helicopter will take us to the landing strip in Milan.’ He let her go abruptly, as if fearful of catching something from her, and perversely Alicia was stung and at the same time bemused. She’d come for this, had wanted to force him to return and face the music, but now she couldn’t quite believe it was happening.

‘You…you’re going to take me?’

An arctic glance slid up and down her body. ‘With a one-way ticket here and barely enough money for a meal, not to mention a credit card I can only imagine is already maxed out, I don’t imagine you’d get very far in a hurry.’ And this has to be cleared up.

He walked away from her down the wide stairs, a harsh inflection in his voice as it floated back up. ‘You and your sister picked the wrong man to play games with, Miss Parker. I am not going to entertain any further discussion about this baby. I will not be held to ransom by some half-baked accusation of parenthood.’ He turned and looked up darkly from the bottom of the stairs. ‘And you are not going to leave my sight until this is concluded to my satisfaction. You will pay for having so sorely tested my patience.’

Alicia stood still for a moment when he turned and walked away and then thought a little hysterically that at least she wouldn’t have to worry about how she was going to get home. He was right. With only a questionable amount of credit left on her card, she really hadn’t even thought that far ahead, to her return. Her driving concern had been to see Dante D’Aquanni.

And now she had. As she followed him down the stairs she felt very queasily as if she were on a train and they had just changed track for some unknown and very scary destination. And she knew, with that sick feeling, that there was no way she could call a halt and get off.

Dante glanced across the aisle of his plane. The woman’s face was averted, her body tense and huddled into the seat, which seemed to dwarf her petite form. She was staring out of the window at the white expanse of cloud as if it contained some fascinating image that he couldn’t see. He wanted to go over, haul her out of the seat and demand payment for disrupting his life, making him trek all the way back to England, which had laid claim to him for almost a year previously. Make her pay—how? asked a snide voice as an unwelcome image of her crushed into his arms, her head falling back, throat and mouth bared for his kisses, inserted itself like a lurid B movie image into his imagination.

His face hardened. She’d been silent since leaving the house. She’d shown no awe or surprise at the experience of being taken by helicopter to the private landing strip of a tiny airport reserved only for VIPs and dignitaries. When they had been in the helicopter she had not even needed to be told what to do, what safety procedures to follow. She’d done them automatically.

So she was accustomed to the luxury that private helicopter travel afforded. While it didn’t gel immediately with the downbeat image she portrayed—he could vaguely remember jeans and another shapeless dark top in London, her hair tied back—he had to concede that she’d quickly smashed his first impressions. She’d proven that, with just soap and water; a lily had lain underneath all the grime and dust, under the voluminous garments. His chest tightened at the thought of how much a little more gilding might make her even more alluring. How the silk of a custom-made dress would skim and cling enticingly to those slight curves…

Alicia turned her head as though compelled and found Dante looking at her with an intense expression on his face. It made more than a quiver of awareness run through her. It made her heart flip and thump unevenly.

He settled back into his seat and regarded her coolly. She couldn’t look away and she felt a flush come up under her skin.

Contradicting his own avowal not to mention it, he asked, ‘Tell me why you are so certain that I am the father of your sister’s baby.’

Alicia fought to stay calm. She couldn’t believe he was being so obtuse, and then she felt slightly sick. Perhaps the man did have so many lovers that he literally didn’t know one from the other. And yet…he seemed far too discriminating for that kind of behaviour which led her again to wonder what he had seen in Melanie.

‘Because,’ she bit out, ‘she told me and I trust her. She’s my sister.’ Something made her defiant then. ‘You’re not making this trip for the good of your health so you obviously believe me, even if you say you don’t.’

His jaw clenched and he leant forward slightly, even though a few feet separated them. Alicia leant back into her seat. ‘What did she say exactly?’

Alicia took a calming breath. ‘I asked her who had done this to her. She said you, how she’d been on her way to try and see you when the accident happened…how you’d sent her away. I knew she was seeing someone from work, I just had no idea it was you.’

He frowned slightly. ‘To the best of my knowledge, she was still working for me.’

‘Yes…but she obviously meant you sent her away from her association with you. She was still feverish, in shock. She’d just suffered a major accident.’ Alicia could feel the shock setting in again.

Dante shook his head incredulously as something became very clear to him. He cursed himself for not having seen it before. ‘Your sister would know that the merger is coming up. She knows how vulnerable I am to public scandal at this moment…’ He shook his head. ‘I know exactly what you and she are up to now.’

Alicia leant forward again, her hands clenched, her eyes bright. ‘Signore D’Aquanni, right now she is fighting for her life, she’s not up to anything beyond that. And as for me, do you really think I’ve nothing better to do than chase around Europe trying to get some holier-than-thou autocratic billionaire playboy to speak to me?’

He looked at her coolly and then said, ‘You can drop the act now, it’s unnecessary.’ He turned away from her, making her insides boil over with fury.

She undid her belt and stood up from the seat, her face pink with rage. His calculating dismissive look had driven her blood pressure even higher. As if he knew something she didn’t. He looked back up at her as she planted herself in front of him, hands on hips.

‘You really are unbelievable. Do you think you’re so untouchable that you can treat people like things? Like…’ she flung her hand out ‘…toys to be played with and then discarded when you’re bored? You might have grown up getting your own way, but that’s not how—’

In that instant the plane suddenly hit some turbulence and Alicia was thrown forward and off balance. With deadly inevitability and in sickening slow motion, she fell straight into Dante D’Aquanni’s lap.

The wind was knocked out of her and she was plastered against his front. And when she tried to move, hard arms held her captive. In a second she became aware of hard, taut thigh muscles under her bottom, a very hard chest and his breath, feathering across her face. He smelt fresh, masculine, musky.

She struggled in earnest, in panic at the way her own body was responding eagerly. ‘Let me go.’

‘No way. I’m far too interested in hearing the end of your tirade. Please, do go on. I believe you were about to tell me how things work.’ His voice was innocuous enough, not a hint of the extreme torture of her squirming position on his lap.

She looked up and wished she hadn’t. His face, that mouth, was inches away and his eyes told the real story of the emotion behind his words. They were dark and utterly cold. Remote.

‘I…I…’ Her voice sounded squeaky, ineffectual. Why, oh, why, did she have to be so aware of him physically? He was the enemy, the man who had rejected her sister, who even now was denying paternity. This man was the lowest of the low…

‘Actually, I’m not interested in what you have to say, as you’re so far from the truth it’s not even funny. What I am interested in, however, is this…’

And, before Alicia could ask what he meant, his mouth had landed on hers and she was transported back in time to the previous evening. Every nerve ending exploded into a tiny ball of fire. It was madness, insanity, this instantaneous effect he had.

One of his hands had found its way underneath her sweater and was climbing up over her skin, skimming her waist. Her breasts throbbed as if on cue and swelled to tight points. She wriggled as a shaft of pure arousal pulsed between her legs and Dante groaned softly against her mouth. Her heart thumped even faster, reality slipping away with an inexorability that Alicia couldn’t fight.

His hand cupped one of her breasts and, with aching slowness, his thumb found and rubbed against the tight bud under its covering of lace. Hard, not soft, went through her overheated brain as the callused feel of his hands were an exquisite torture against her sensitive skin. Alicia’s head fell back, her eyes closed. She’d never, ever felt like this before—this immediate fire that erupted and washed away any resistance. The only time she’d come close to anything like this—

Her thoughts seized to an icy halt as a memory surfaced and she stiffened. Dante’s hand was seeking her other breast and Alicia was aghast to see that she’d shifted in order to offer him easier access. She seized on that painful memory and pushed with all her might against him. His arms loosened and she tumbled back and out of the seat, landing on her rear on the soft carpet.

What the hell had just happened?

She stood awkwardly, breathing heavily. She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, her eyes huge. She dropped her hand and her mouth was pink, her cheeks glowing red. Dante said nothing, his face implacable, barely a hair out of place. Unmoved.

‘Don’t touch me ever again. You make me sick.’

And, before he could see how much turmoil she was in, she turned and fled to the toilet at the front of the cabin, narrowly avoiding the stewardess, who appeared just then with a tray piled high with food and drinks.

After spending an inordinately long time in the bathroom splashing cold water on her face and wrists, Alicia emerged. She wondered what kind of spell this man held over her and felt sick to the stomach at the thought of facing Melanie when she’d proven herself to be no less immune to his charms. For a brief cataclysmic moment in there, faced with her own bewildered image, she’d actually wished that somehow he wasn’t the father of Melanie’s baby. She was going to be the aunt of this man’s child, for goodness’ sake. Her stomach had lurched ominously and she thought for a second that she’d be sick.

But when she emerged, steeled to see him again, the cabin was empty. The stewardess turned around from where she’d been laying out cutlery and plates. Alicia thought hysterically that Dante must have parachuted out in order to get away from her. The cool blonde woman cut through her thoughts. ‘Mr D’Aquanni has taken a call in the office at the back of the plane. He said to call me if you need anything. We’ll be landing in a little under an hour, Ms Parker.’

Alicia nodded. She couldn’t trust herself to speak. Of course the plane had an office. Silly her, she chided herself. And no doubt he was as disgusted by what had just happened as she was. Her cheeks burned as she recalled what it must have looked like. She had practically thrown herself into his arms, had all but begged him to keep going…

Dante sat at the back of the plane, his call having lasted only a couple of minutes. His body still hummed, his trousers still felt tight. He’d watched, uncharacteristically speechless as Alicia had walked into the bathroom. When she’d landed on his lap, in his mind’s eye he’d seen very clearly what he should do—put her away from him and back to her own seat. But his arms had come around her instinctively. His lap had cupped her bottom as if it had known it from a previous existence. And the feel of her tiny, curved form had been so seductive that he’d found it nigh on impossible to remember the rage that her words had sparked within him.

But without her bewitching presence he could remember. How dared she presume to know what kind of upbringing he’d had? It had been more like an up-dragging. He’d fought and kicked every step of the way, staying on the right side of the law only by the mercy of some divine force. And if it hadn’t been for Stefano Arrigi plucking him and his brother from the streets when he had, who knew where he—they—might have ended up…?

He cursed the woman for making him think of these things. He knew rationally that he couldn’t entirely blame her as he’d never publicized his background—oh, the information was there, he couldn’t move without someone commenting on it—but he’d learnt the hard way that once you had money people didn’t much care how you’d got it, and yet Alicia’s condemnation had cut him in a tender place. And he had no idea why. She was a complete stranger to him.

He didn’t seek pity from anyone. Especially when he had such a bitter memory of the one and only time he had told someone the truth—a woman. And yet he felt instinctively that this woman would somehow empathise. Or, more accurately, pretend to.

He stood abruptly, making some papers fall from the desk. The sooner they got to England and sorted this farce out the better. And the sooner he made sure this woman had no recourse or claim, however bogus, on his life, the better. He vowed that within the day he would be back in his villa on Lake Como, any threat from these women nullified and eradicated.

Dante returned to the main cabin just as the plane was landing and Alicia studiously avoided looking anywhere near him. She trembled inside. Watching the ground below become clearer and clearer, she could make out fields, buildings, tiny cars…she realized then that she hadn’t told him where to go but they were in fact circling over the Oxford area.

She turned around. ‘How did you know where to come? I never told you.’

She was relieved to see him buttoned up, suit jacket on.

‘I know because it didn’t take much to find out.’

Alicia had to consciously stop her gaze from dropping to his mouth, the strong brown column of his throat. ‘Oh…’

‘You never did tell me what you want the money for exactly, or how much… You pulled your fainting stunt just before you did. Which was, no doubt, designed somewhat crudely to arouse sympathy.’ His tone was conversational, bored even.

Alicia’s heart hardened. The man was a bastard. She hated him. He had hurt Melanie unforgivably.

She tried to keep her voice steady but it was a struggle. Briefly, she told him of Melanie’s injuries. ‘She’s going to need the expert ongoing care of one of the best gynaecologists in the UK who specializes in post trauma cases, and he is only available privately. Even if we had the money, he’s based in central London, so we would have to move closer in order to see him once a week. Melanie won’t be able to withstand a lengthy public transport journey. He works in Harley Street. You do the maths.’ She flung the last words at him in a fit of pique at his lack of expression. Tears stung her eyes again. Damn it, if Melanie or the baby suffered because of this man… She turned away in despair. She wouldn’t be surprised if when they landed he threw her from the plane and closed the door only to take off, back to Italy.

Dante watched the slim column of her throat work in profile. Was she really upset or was this part of the game? As if he had to ask. He had thought for a brief moment of seeing her out of the plane door, closing it behind her and taking off immediately. But he knew he couldn’t. Melanie Parker was a reality. She was associated with him. It would be an easy story to sell and he was damned if he’d let her.

He focused on his recent conversation with his assistant in Italy. They were still unable to track down his younger brother. His mouth tightened. If this pregnancy was genuine, Paolo D’Aquanni had a lot to answer for.

CHAPTER FOUR

‘YOUR sister has been conscious for a few hours now. We’re cautiously optimistic that she’s not going to lapse again.’

Alicia felt weak with relief. ‘And the baby?’

The ward sister nodded. ‘The baby is doing fine.’ She shook her head incredulously. ‘It’s a miracle really how it survived the impact of the crash but, as you know, this is only the first step. She’s going to need constant care to ensure its healthy progress. It’s such a relief that Paolo has managed to make the first appointment for Mel to see Dr Hardy in London in a couple of weeks. I was afraid it’d be too short notice.’

Alicia’s back tensed; she felt Dante straighten beside her. She struggled to interpret the words she’d just heard. ‘What are you talking about? Who is Paolo?’

Her friend gave her a funny look. ‘Why, Mel’s boyfriend, of course, silly. He arrived last night. He stayed in the chair beside her bed, absolutely besotted.’ She bustled towards the ward, guiding them in. ‘She’s still very weak, so maybe don’t make it a long visit today, OK?’

Alicia felt herself nod dumbly. She still couldn’t process the words. She was vaguely aware of Dante behind her, his hand moving to her back, propelling her forward. She moved, but didn’t know how. They were in a ward of four beds, the curtains pulled around her sister’s. Somehow instinctively Alicia just knew that everything was about to fall apart.

And when she pulled back the curtain she nearly fainted for the second time in two days.

‘Lissy…’ Melanie’s weakened voice was a thread of its normal chatty vitality but Alicia couldn’t even look at her yet. She couldn’t move. She stared in abject mounting horror at a younger, slightly less good looking, slightly smaller version of Dante D’Aquanni. She had to be so exhausted that she was hallucinating. That was it—extreme tiredness and stress… She raised a hand to her head.

‘Lissy? Are you OK?’

Finally she turned to look at her sister and blanched when she saw her still too pale face, one livid scar still across her forehead. But a hint of colour warmed her cheeks under the sickly pallor and the sight of her bump under the bedclothes was reassuring. Alicia nodded her head jerkily.

An autocratic hand propelled her towards a chair beside the bed. Melanie reached out a hand and took Alicia’s in hers. ‘What is it? The nurses said you’d been gone since yesterday… Where did you—’

Melanie broke off and looked from Alicia to Dante D’Aquanni, who she’d just noticed. Out of the corner of her eye, Alicia saw the younger man stand, bristling.

Melanie’s voice sounded strained and Alicia could see this man take her hand in support. ‘Mr D’Aquanni… What are you doing here?’

Dante stepped forward into the light and seemed to Alicia to energise the small space. ‘Your sister here seems to be under the misapprehension that I am the father of your unborn child.’ Alicia couldn’t be unaware of the way his glance flicked down to the bump of her sister’s belly, as if to confirm for himself that she had been telling the truth.

Melanie looked at Alicia. ‘How…what…however did you get that idea?’

Alicia fought valiantly against sinking into the ground into the comfort of another dead faint. She couldn’t look at Dante.

‘When I came here last week, you were feverish…I asked you who had done this to you and all you said was, “Dante D’Aquanni,” his was the only name you mentioned… You said you’d been on your way to see him. You asked me to find him for you…’

‘I did?’

Alicia smiled sadly. This wasn’t Melanie’s fault. ‘You probably don’t remember.’

Melanie groaned and glanced at the young man beside her shyly. ‘I had been on my way to see Mr D’Aquanni.’ She glanced at him then with a little trepidation. ‘But it was only to ask him to bring back Paolo…’

‘Paolo…’ Alicia repeated dumbly.

Dante spoke then, and Alicia flinched slightly at the harshness of his tone. ‘Paolo D’Aquanni—the man your sister was having an affair with at the office. My brother.’

His words seemed to come from far away. Alicia looked across at Paolo. ‘So you’re…’

Melanie squeezed her hand. ‘Yes, Lissy, he’s the one, the father of my baby.’

Distaste flavoured Dante’s mouth. His eyes raked over Melanie, taking in her undoubtedly weakened state. He had to admit that she couldn’t have faked the crash. She looked to be taller than Alicia; they shared the same colouring, but her eyes were blue, not a deep, dark chocolate brown. He ruthlessly drove down his awareness of the small woman beside the bed.