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‘Then, you do it!’ his father blazed. ‘I’m done here.’ Dropping his head into his hands, the once great leader began to sob like a child.
Tactfully turning his back, Luca waited for the storm to blow over. He wasn’t going anywhere. Neither his father nor Raoul had ever been able to accept that he would love them, no matter what.
Luca Tebaldi could have been a worthy successor to a man who had ruled his fiefdom with a rod of iron for more than fifty years. Well over six feet tall, with the hard-muscled frame of a Roman gladiator, Luca was considered to be outrageously good-looking. With the intellect of a scholar and the keen stare of a warrior, Luca possessed the type of dangerously compelling glamour of a man born to rule. But it was Luca’s steel-trap mind that had brought him such huge success. His business interests were wholly legitimate, and had been founded far away from his father’s crumbling empire. Rampant sex appeal made him irresistible to women, but Luca had no time for softening influences in his life, though his late, hugely passionate Italian mother had drummed into him an appreciation of the fairer sex. Luca’s raging libido was a hitch that he and his iron control had learned to live with.
His father looked up. ‘How could you not know what was happening to Raoul? You both own property in London.’
‘Our paths rarely crossed,’ Luca admitted. His life was so different from that of his fast-living brother. ‘Is there anything more I should know before I leave for London?’ he pressed, wanting to move past the histrionics to the meat of the matter.
His father shrugged. ‘Raoul owed money everywhere. He left several properties, all heavily mortgaged—’ These he dismissed with a contemptuous flick of his wrist. ‘It’s the trust fund that concerns me. She gets that!’
A trust fund worth millions, Luca calculated, and one of the few sources of money Raoul hadn’t been able to get his hands on to fritter away. Raoul wouldn’t have been able to touch the trust until his thirtieth birthday, a date still six months in the future. ‘This will make Raoul’s girlfriend very wealthy indeed,’ he murmured thoughtfully. ‘Do we know anything about her?’
‘Enough to destroy her,’ his father informed him with relish.
‘That won’t be necessary,’ Luca ruled. ‘Raoul didn’t expect to be killed. He almost certainly drew up this will on a whim—probably after you fell out about something?’ The brief look on his father’s face suggested he was right. ‘My brother would almost certainly have changed his intentions in time.’
‘How comforting,’ his father scoffed. ‘What I need to know, is, what are you going to do about it now?’
‘I’d rather Raoul had lived,’ Luca reproached his father.
‘Live to your prescription?’ his father scorned angrily. ‘Hard work and trust in your fellow man—who doesn’t give a flying fig about you, by the way. I’d rather be dead than live like that!’
‘Raoul has paid the ultimate price,’ Luca pointed out sharply.
He’d had enough of pandering to a self-centred old man. He was still grieving for his brother, and longed for solitude so he could dwell on happier times. Raoul hadn’t always been weak, or a criminal. As a child with the world at his feet, Raoul had been trusting and funny and mischievous. Luca remembered him as a wild-haired scamp, who had liked to tag along with Luca and his friends to show the older boys how reckless he could be. Raoul could swim as fast as they could, and he could dive as deep too, sometimes remaining submerged for so long that Luca had to dive down to bring him up again. It was always a prank, designed to wind Luca up, but Raoul’s daring had been his entry ticket into the group. Luca and his friends had grown out of their wildness as life forced them to shoulder increased responsibility, but Raoul had never lost his lust for danger, and in one last reckless act had joined an infamous street-racing gang. He’d been killed instantly in a head-on collision between two cars. By some miracle, there were no other casualties, but Raoul’s death was the most hideous waste of life.
‘What a tragedy,’ Luca murmured out loud as he remembered the details as relayed to him by the police officers on the scene.
‘What a mess,’ his father argued. ‘Sometimes I think your brother’s sole intention was to hurt me.’
Always the self-pity, Luca thought, but when his father’s fist closed around a lethal-looking paper knife and he looked as if he might stab it into the document in front of him, which Luca presumed could only be Raoul’s will, he intervened. ‘May I see that before you destroy it?’
‘Be my guest.’ His father shoved the papers across the desk. ‘Raoul’s lawyer was here before the funeral. “As a courtesy to you, Don Tebaldi—”’ His father mimicked a wheedling voice. ‘When you and I both know he was only interested in his fee.’
‘You can’t blame him for that,’ Luca observed as he settled down to read. ‘Raoul wasn’t always quick to pay his debts.’ He glanced up briefly. ‘And he certainly isn’t in a position to do so now.’
His father’s expression hardened. ‘You’re missing the point, Luca. The lawyer’s visit was a warning. He was telling me—me, Don Tebaldi—not to accidentally misplace Raoul’s will, or destroy it, as he had already cast his weasel eyes over it.’
‘Raoul was free to do as he liked,’ Luca commented mildly. ‘This document seems very thorough. This girl must have meant a lot to him.’
‘It’s unlikely the girl was a love interest,’ his father rapped. ‘More likely, she was a clever trickster. Thanks to Raoul’s mismanagement the Tebaldi family has lost most of its power and influence, but we still have enemies, Luca. How do I know that one of them hasn’t put this girl up to this act of extortion?’ He clutched his chest theatrically. ‘I can just imagine—’
‘Has she been notified of Raoul’s death?’ Luca interrupted.
‘I asked the lawyer to hold off.’ Having made an instant recovery, his father shrugged. ‘I made it worth his while to do so. And she won’t find out from the media. Your brother’s death will hardly make the international news. Raoul would have had to make a mark on the world to do that. So yes, we can keep it quiet for now. You’re still one step ahead of her. Go to London. Buy her off. Do whatever it takes—’
While his father warmed to his theme, Luca battled the ache of loss for a brother he had loved as a child, and had lost touch with as an adult. The few times they’d met recently, Raoul had mocked the way Luca lived his life, while Luca had been frustrated that Raoul couldn’t seem to break free of the vicious cycle of gambling and debt. On their last meeting, he had sensed Raoul had wanted to tell him something, but hadn’t felt able to confide in him. It was no use asking his father what this might have been, but maybe the girl could help. He would take the jet to London to find out who she was and what she wanted.
It was time to drill down into the facts. ‘What do we know about this woman?’
Having tired of the theatricals, his father had moved on to studying the racing papers. ‘She’s a mouse,’ he stated with confidence, glancing up. ‘She’ll give you no trouble. She lives quietly on her own with no money, no family, and no way to fight us.’
Luca frowned. ‘The lawyer told you this?’
‘I still have my contacts.’ His father laid a finger down the side of his nose to demonstrate how clever he was. ‘She works behind the scenes at Smithers & Worseley—the auction house that handles the high-value gemstones I collect. She makes tea there, and polishes dust off picture frames, from what I can gather, though she is studying for some fancy title or other.’ His father sneered at this, but then brightened as he considered his own cleverness. ‘I lost no time calling London this morning to find out what I could about her.’
Putting financial gain over the death of his son on the day of the funeral might have shocked Luca, if he hadn’t known his father so well.
‘I used the old charm on the chairman of the auction house,’ his father recounted gleefully. ‘He was only too happy to gossip with Don Tebaldi, one of his most favoured clients—’
Probably the most gullible too, Luca thought. His father was like a magpie when it came to collecting glittering gems.
An idea had begun to take root in Luca’s mind. He’d read something about a fabulous gemstone with a curse on it that was due to be sold in the next few days at Smithers & Worseley. When a gem came with a curse, it was a dead cert his father would pay over the odds for it. Don Tebaldi’s hidden collection was second to none. He kept his treasures hidden away on the island, where no one but he could gloat over them.
‘The girl has a second job, working in a high-end bar attached to the casino where your brother used to play the tables,’ his father continued, showing his contempt for the girl with a derisive laugh. ‘I imagine she took the job so she could keep a lookout for men with money.’
‘We don’t know that.’ Luca frowned. Only the facts interested Luca, and he doubted any woman with sense would make a play for a compulsive gambler like Raoul. ‘I’ll find her,’ he promised grimly. ‘You say she’s a mouse, but we’ve no proof of that. Either way, she’s going to be a very wealthy mouse, which means she can gnaw her way through the security I’ve put in place to protect you from the past.’
‘The past?’ his father derided. ‘Pshaw! Those shadows can’t reach me when I’ve retired to Florida. I’m part of the past. I’m finished now,’ he added with a wail of self-pity. ‘Do what you have to, Luca. Seduce her, if you must,’ he recommended, his face brightening at the thought.
Luca hummed. He had more important things to do than indulge his father’s fantasies. ‘I’ve got a better idea.’
‘Then, share it,’ his father insisted impatiently.
‘We’ve got six months until Raoul’s trust is released,’ Luca said as he calmly calculated the facts. ‘She can’t get her hands on the money until then. And, just in case the lawyer has a sudden fit of conscience, I’ll keep her out of his way.’
‘Bring her here to the island?’ his father said, catching on.
‘It seems to be the obvious solution,’ Luca confirmed.
His father perked up. ‘But how will you persuade her to do that?’
‘You’ll buy another gemstone,’ he said.
‘Ah...’ As realisation slowly dawned on his face Don Tebaldi relaxed. ‘This is a brilliant solution, Luca—and one you must set in place at once. But allow yourself some fun along the way. Life doesn’t have to be all about principles and caring. She may turn out to be a pretty girl, and she owes us something for the stress she’s caused me.’
Disgusted, Luca refrained from comment. It was time to hunt down the mouse.
* * *
‘It’s Retro Night at the club!’ Jay-Dee, who was usually a server like Jen at the casino, announced so loudly the club speakers howled with feedback.
For one night only Jay-Dee was MC for the annual charity event. He was in his element, Jen thought with amusement. Jay-Dee had a warm, theatrical manner, and so much verve for life, everyone loved him.
Jen thought of her friends at the casino as gloriously colourful exclamation marks in the regular pattern of her neat and ordered life. When she wasn’t working in the silent intensity of the auction house, she was poring over study books with her feet so close to her three-bar electric fire in the bedsit where she lived, she was in danger of getting chilblains. Qualifying as a gemologist was Jen’s goal. Her mother had been a renowned gemologist, who had passed on her fascination with treasures locked deep in the earth to her daughters. The stories she’d told them about hidden treasures when they were little girls, it was no wonder that Lyddie had grown up wanting to wear the sparkling jewels, while Jen had desperately wanted to learn more about them. She had never lost the sense of magic her mother had passed on to her, or the thought that somewhere beneath her feet there could be precious minerals, or even diamonds.
But it was Jen’s job at the casino that put the chilli spice in her life, and went some way to replacing the family she’d lost. She and Lyddie had lost their parents when Jen was just eighteen. A car crash had taken them, and then the local authority had wanted to take Lyddie. Their father and mother had set such a shining example that as soon as Jen was over the worst of the shock, she was determined to keep things running as smoothly as possible for her sister. Those in authority insisted that Jen was too young to take on the responsibility of a teenage sister, but she had fought to keep Lyddie with her, and Jen’s dogged persistence had finally paid off. There was no chance she would have let Lyddie go into care. She’d heard what could happen to thirteen-year-old girls, and as long as she had breath in her body no one was going to take her sister away—only fate could do that, Jen reflected wistfully.
‘Reach for your wallets!’ Jay-Dee’s strident voice shook Jen alert. ‘You know you want to!’ he bellowed. ‘The charity needs our help! We might need help from the charity one day—think of that!’ He glanced towards the wings where Jen was standing. ‘Dig deep, my friends! Our first lot...’ He gestured frantically that it was time for Jen to join him on the stage. ‘What will you give me for this plump rabbit, ready for the pot...?’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ Jen exploded with laughter as she checked her long furry ears were fixed in place. ‘How am I supposed to walk on stage after an introduction like that?’
‘With attitude,’ one of Jen’s best friends, casino manager Tess, who was standing with her, advised.
‘Does Jay-Dee have to whip the crowd into such a frenzy? If this retro night wasn’t in aid of such a worthwhile charity you’d never get me up there.’
The charity was particularly dear to Jen’s heart. Its volunteers had helped her when her sister died. One of them had been at her side from the moment she first saw Lyddie lying in a coma in ICU, right up to the heart-wrenching memorial service for her sister.
‘Raising money for this charity is the only reason I’ve allowed myself to be dressed by a sadistic corset engineer and have a powder puff stuck on my bum,’ Jen said as she silently dedicated the next hour or so to the sister who would have loved nothing more than to be here in the midst of the fun to cheer her on.
‘The more excitement you generate, the more they’ll pay,’ practical-minded Tess declared as she tweaked the bow tie she was sporting with her boxy, forties-style suit. ‘You’ll enjoy it once the spotlight hits you.’
‘Can I have your word on that?’ Jen asked wryly.
‘Hop to it, bunny! Hop!’ Tess commanded, miming a whip-crack.
‘I feel like a rabbit trapped in headlights, while the hounds bay blue murder from the side of the road—’
‘You don’t strike me as anything short of a tiger—if a rather small one,’ Tess conceded with amusement. ‘You should be proud of your assets,’ she added, casting an appreciative eye over Jen’s closely bound form.
‘With those lights at least I won’t be able to see any of the medallion men bidding to have dinner with me—if any of them bid, which I doubt.’
‘They’ll bid,’ Tess assured her. ‘Now, get out there and strut your stuff, Ms Wabbit!’
‘What will you give me for this plump rabbit, ready for the pot?’ Jay-Dee said again in a slightly hysterical tone as he glanced repeatedly into the wings.
‘Here goes nothing!’ Jen declared, knowing she couldn’t put off her entrance any longer.
She felt exposed in the spotlight. Her satin suit was cut like a particularly revealing swimming costume. High on the leg, it left very little to the imagination, paired with flesh-toned fishnet tights, and stratospheric heels. Even Jen had to admit that with her long red hair left flowing free beneath her bunny ears the effect was startling—if a little different from her normal, understated-to-a-fault self.
‘Here’s to you, Lyddie,’ she murmured as the stage lights blinded her.
Jay-Dee, who was dressed in garish eighties flares and platform boots, gasped with relief as he rushed to lead Jen centre stage.
‘You look beeeoootiful,’ he gushed as the crowd went wild.
‘I look ridiculous,’ Jen argued, laughing. Getting into the mood of the night, she struck a pose.
CHAPTER TWO (#u3635ef9b-8cb1-5a1c-a2b9-08dd3f0aca30)
HIS FATHER ONLY confided in him when he wanted something, Luca reflected as he parked up outside the exclusive London club. They had never been close. Never would be close. Luca had built his own life, far away from the family compound, where he’d grown up behind razor wire with guards patrolling the grounds, with their automatic weapons ostentatiously cocked.
Tipping the valet to park his car, he pulled on his jacket, brushed back his hair, and shot his cuffs. Black diamond links glittered at his wrists. This was his London look, the passport that gained him entry to even the most exclusive Members Only club. As he approached the entrance, the door swung wide to welcome him. His first impression of the upmarket gambling den was that it was as dreary as his father’s study. Subtle lighting set the mood, and, though he doubted the glass was bulletproof, the deep shadow still reminded him of a fortress home he preferred to forget.
‘Are you here for the auction, sir?’ the smiling hostess asked, putting on her best smile.
‘Apologies,’ he said, glancing down. ‘My mind was elsewhere. An auction?’ he queried.
‘For charity, sir—to support those with head injuries, and those who care for them, or who are bereaved.’ She risked a broader smile as she gained in confidence. ‘Don’t think it’s a depressing night—it’s anything but. It’s a riot in there—I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.’
He doubted that. He handed her a high-value note. ‘For your trouble,’ he said.
‘Have a good evening, sir—’
He doubted that too.
It took him a moment to adjust his gaze. If the entrance to the club was poorly lit, the interior was positively Stygian. None of the gambling tables was in operation and everyone’s attention was fixed on the brilliantly lit stage, where a skimpily dressed girl, clad in a satin swimsuit with cock-eyed rabbit ears balanced precariously on top of her head, was gyrating to the pounding music, while punters called out bids to an excessively excitable MC.
‘What’s going on?’ he asked a waiter hurrying past with a tray of drinks.
The man followed his glance to the stage. ‘Dinner for two with Ms Bunny up there is on offer.’
‘Thank you.’ He slipped him a twenty, and then leaned back against a pillar to watch.
He understood at once why there was such interest in this particular lot. Ms Bunny had something unique about her—almost enough to make him smile. It wasn’t that she was so good at what she was doing, but that she was so utterly hopeless, and that she couldn’t have cared less. She had good humour in plenty, but no sense of rhythm, and even less idea of how to walk elegantly in her high-heel shoes. She was throwing herself about in a way that made him want to take off his jacket to shield her from the baying crowd—but at least they were on her side, he noticed, glancing around. His attention returned to the stage.
She felt his interest and their stares connected briefly. A raised brow told him that a rescue attempt would not be appreciated.
There was fire beneath that costume, and it was enough to hold him to the end of her act. She was attractive, but not showy or flashy, however hard she was trying to appear so. The punters were wolf-whistling and stamping their feet for more by now, which she gladly gave them. Spotting the maître d’, he remembered the reason for his mission and reluctantly pulled away from the pillar so he could ask if a Ms Jennifer Sanderson worked at the club.
‘Jen’s a waitress,’ the maître d’ confirmed. ‘But not tonight,’ he added, glancing at the stage. He leaned in close to make himself heard above the noise. ‘For one night only, Jen’s taking part in the charity auction. It’s a cause very close to her heart,’ he added, piquing Luca’s interest. ‘That’s her up on the stage now,’ he enthused. ‘Sensational, isn’t she? I’ve only seen Jen in her server’s uniform before, or in jeans. It’s surprising what a difference a pair of ears can make.’
It wasn’t her ears Luca was looking at.
And his plan had just folded. Dealing with a mouse was one thing, but from the way she was handling the audience at the club he doubted Ms Jennifer Sanderson was even close to the pushover his father had imagined. She’d got all the hard-bitten punters in the casino eating out of the palm of her hand. The more she gambolled around the stage, sending herself up, the more the audience loved her. In another life she could have been an entertainer. The maître d’ was spot on. She was sensational, but Jennifer Sanderson was as much a mouse as Luca.
* * *
Jen couldn’t believe how high the bidding was going. ‘Keep it up,’ Tess advised in the loudest stage whisper ever from the wings.
Turning her back to the audience, Jen stuck out her rump and wiggled her powder-puff tail so enthusiastically it encouraged a fresh round of bidding from the crowd.
‘I thought you were supposed to be a feminist,’ Jen chastised Tess when she finally sashayed off stage to thunderous applause.
‘I’m happy to leave my principles at the door when ten thousand is in the bag for the charity,’ Tess exclaimed.
‘Ten thousand!’ Jen hugged her friend excitedly. ‘I was so busy wiggling I wasn’t listening to the bidding. Who on earth paid that much to have dinner with me?’
‘Someone who doesn’t mess around?’ Tess suggested, pressing her lips together as she shrugged. ‘Time to get your Miss Prim on, and start serving those hungry diners,’ she added. ‘They’ll need something to settle them down after the excitement you’ve given them.’
Jen hurried off with a wide grin on her face. She couldn’t wait to release her straining body from the too-tight costume. One thing that could be said for the club was that no two days were the same. She loved her job. If she didn’t work here, she wouldn’t hear the stories she did. Some of the customers were lonely, and only gambled to while away their lonely nights, they told her. Jen thought that, for at least some of the members, gambling was an illness, but she’d always been a good listener and credited the customers at the club with saving her when Lyddie had been fatally injured in a cycling accident. Talking to people, and having a routine to cling onto, had helped Jen to climb back from a dark hole of grief. The volunteers from the charity had told her that shutting herself away was the worst thing she could do. She had to get out and start living again for her sister’s sake. Life was precious and she shouldn’t waste a moment of it. They were right, hence her outrageous outfit tonight. She would do anything she could to support them after what they’d done for her.
Having exchanged the sexy satin suit for the sombre black and white uniform she wore as a server, Jen squeezed her way through the customers clustered around the bar.
‘Excuse me—’ She inhaled sharply as a man barred her way.
Jen’s body reacted violently with approval. Too tanned and fit to be a regular at the club, he was tall, dark and swarthy, with thick, wavy black hair, and an unwavering stare. Lean and muscular, he was ferociously commanding. Maybe he was someone important. He certainly had shedloads of presence, but there was something about him that made her shiver inwardly.
