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Seducing His Enemy's Daughter
Annie West
Amanda Cinelli
Just a pawn in Salazar’s game?Donato Salazar can’t forget his tragic past and he has no intention of forgiving the man responsible. Jilting his enemy’s daughter will be the icing on the cake of his revenge, and beautiful Ella Sanderson is certainly sweet enough.Except Ella isn’t the vacuous socialite he expected, and she refuses to marry him! Her rebelliousness only makes Donato want her more, so he’ll have to persuade her…touch by breathtaking touch. But soon Donato finds himself enthralled by their magnetic connection…As their fake wedding day approaches one question weighs heavily on Donato’s mind: will he love, honour…and betray?Praise for Annie WestThe Sultan’s Harem Bride 4.5* RT Book ReviewWest’s desert romance of duty versus love stars a haunted but brave heroine and an autocratic yet caring hero. The exotic, sumptuous settings exemplify palace life, and the royal co-stars are memorable. The first love scene is a sensual buffet.Rebel’s Bargain 4.5* RT Book ReviewWest’s second-chance romance is an imaginative and intensely thrilling brainteaser, ripe with shrouded misconceptions. Her silver-spoon hero and wounded heroine are passionate and convincing.Damaso Claims His Heir TOP PICK 4.5* RT Book ReviewWest’s page-turner set in colorful Brazil is impressively perfect, starring her well-matched, rags-to-riches hero and her unjustly scandal-ridden royal heroine. Her illuminating, expert narrative brings the breathtaking story and the explosive lovemaking to life.
She’d been almost relieved at the excuse to see him again, despite her fine talk about them never meeting again. She was angry, for sure. But she was also… enthralled.
Ella swallowed, her throat scratchy, as she confronted the truth. She wanted Donato Salazar as she’d never wanted any man. Her skin felt too tight, her chest too full.
Donato stroked one finger along her palm and she gasped as pleasure rocketed through her.
‘Tell me you feel it too,’ he purred.
Ella bit back a groan of despair. She was out of her depth. She’d never been good at flirtation. Suddenly she didn’t care about pride or keeping up an image. This was about survival—and she felt as if she was going under for the third time.
‘What do you want from me, Donato? I don’t play these games.’
‘I don’t play games either. Not about this.’
His face was grim, the hint of teasing erased from features that looked pared back and intense. He swallowed, and something within her eased at the visible sign that he wasn’t totally in control.
Suddenly he stepped back, releasing her hand, and cool air wafted between them.
‘What happens next is up to you.’
His heavy-lidded look was both a challenge… and an invitation.
Growing up near the beach, ANNIE WEST spent lots of time observing tall, burnished lifeguards—early research! Now she spends her days fantasising about gorgeous men and their love-lives. Annie has been a reader all her life. She also loves travel, long walks, good company and great food. You can contact her at annie@annie-west.com (mailto:annie@annie-west.com) or via PO Box 1041, Warners Bay, NSW 2282, Australia.
Seducing
His Enemy’s
Daughter
Annie West
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
This is my 25
Mills & Boon® novel, and the thrill of creating these stories hasn’t diminished.
It has actually increased, because now I hear from readers from all around the world who enjoy them.
So this one is for you—all the readers who’ve taken time to pick up an Annie West story.
And especially for those who have enjoyed them and taken the time to share that.
Thanks, too, to my lovely editor, Carly, my wonderfully supportive family, my dear writing friends—you know who you are, so take a bow—and to Ale Snape Li for helping with the Spanish!
Contents
Cover (#u420df46e-fa6d-5010-a19c-4e49906cd530)
Excerpt (#uef995539-deb2-5c78-9f4f-1a6539ead2e5)
About the Author (#ua10cada5-2e66-5586-89c6-ef4b3ee8d0d5)
Title Page (#udd11346d-42cf-58d4-88cc-a21e3882c42b)
Dedication (#uf07ee3b7-c6d2-52ad-90a7-5ce266b07799)
CHAPTER ONE (#u2b4d4d17-7cfd-597e-9ce5-eb561b69bc3a)
CHAPTER TWO (#u170feb7b-42ab-5451-951d-4bf38c71d19c)
CHAPTER THREE (#ub8009cfe-8b6a-5017-ab25-e34468dc13fd)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u873c5c0c-cb37-5995-a1be-04c3c7b3462e)
CHAPTER FIVE (#ub0844275-8b19-545b-b287-aab4d84db6ab)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_05ea8614-35c4-57a3-aeb2-0a747d51854a)
‘OF COURSE YOU’LL do it. You know you will.’ Reg Sanderson paused in the act of pouring a double whisky to fix his gimlet stare on his daughter. As if he could bend her to his will, like he had years ago.
Ella shook her head, wondering how any man got to be so caught up in his own importance that he didn’t notice the world had altered. She’d changed in the years since she’d walked out. Even Fuzz and Rob had changed lately, but their father hadn’t realised.
He was too focused on his business machinations. Except they were no longer just business. His latest scheme was an outrageous mix of commercial and personal.
No wonder Fuzz had run. Felicity Sanderson might be flighty and spoiled, as only the favourite child of a very rich man could be, but she was no fool.
‘Don’t be absurd.’ Ella stared her father down, ignoring his razor-sharp glare. It had taken years of practice to stand tall against his brutal behaviour but it came naturally now. ‘This is nothing to do with me. You’ll have to sort it out yourself.’
Who’d have thought Reg Sanderson would come cap in hand to his forgotten middle child, the one he’d ignored for so long?
Except there’d been nothing cap in hand about his bellowing phone call, demanding she come to his harbourside home instantly because her sister Felicity was about to destroy her life.
‘Of course you’re involved,’ he roared, then caught himself, pausing to swallow a slug of alcohol. ‘You’re my only hope, Ella.’ This time his tone was conciliatory, almost conspiratorial.
Ella’s hackles rose, tension clamping her belly. Her father shouted whenever he didn’t instantly get his way. But it was when he pretended to be on your side that you really needed to beware.
‘I’m sorry.’ She bit her lip, reminding herself there was no need for her to apologise. Yet ancient habits died hard. She lifted her chin. ‘It’s a crazy idea and even if it weren’t I couldn’t fill in for Felicity. I’m not—’
‘Pah! Of course you can’t hold a candle to your sister. But with a makeover and some coaching you’ll do.’
Ella stood tall. Once upon a time his constant references to the many ways she didn’t measure up to her older sister—in looks, grace, vivacity, charm, the ability to throw on anything and look like a million dollars—had been the bane of her life. Now she knew life held more important things than trying, fruitlessly, to live up to his expectations.
‘I was going to say I’m not interested in getting to know any of your business cronies, much less marrying one.’
Ella shuddered. She’d escaped her awful father in her teens and never looked back. This man her father so wanted to do business with would be in the same mould: grasping, selfish, dishonest. She’d met his associates before.
‘I’m sure if you explain the situation he’ll understand.’ She got up from the white leather lounge, retrieved her shoulder bag and turned towards the door.
‘Understand?’ Her father’s voice cracked on the word, transfixing Ella. Despite his volatile temperament, she’d swear it was the closest he’d come to real emotion in years. Even when her mother died he’d shed only crocodile tears.
‘Donato Salazar isn’t the sort to understand. You don’t realise how badly I need him. I suggested marriage to cement our business ties and he agreed to consider it.’ Her father’s tone made it clear what an honour that was. This from a man who viewed himself as the acme of Sydney business and society.
‘I need Salazar’s money. Without it I’ll go under and soon. Even with his money...’ He looked every bit his age despite the work he’d had to keep the lines and sags of good living at bay. ‘I need a personal tie to keep me safe. A family tie.’ His tone was grim, his expression ugly, a familiar scheming look in his eye.
The idea of her father’s massive wealth at risk should have shocked her. But somehow it didn’t. He was an inveterate risk-taker.
‘You don’t trust him.’ Ella stared in revulsion. ‘Yet you want your daughter to marry him.’
‘Oh, don’t be such a prude. You remind me of your mother.’ His lip curled. ‘Salazar can give a woman everything money can buy. You’ll be set for life.’
Ella said nothing. She knew her mother’s worth, and that money couldn’t buy the important things in life. But the discussion was academic. Fuzz had run rather than meet this Salazar person and Ella had no intention of sacrificing herself to her father’s schemes. Besides, this paragon of corporate success wouldn’t be interested in having Reg Sanderson’s other daughter foisted on him. The dull, uninteresting one who actually worked for a living.
She was ordinary, a nurse who spent her days home-visiting the sick. She had nothing in common with a corporate high-flyer. Ella turned towards the door again.
‘Without Salazar’s money I lose everything. The business, this house. Everything. And if I go belly up, what do you think happens to your siblings?’ He paused long enough for foreboding to trickle down Ella’s spine.
‘What about the money for your brother’s new venture?’ No mistaking the venom in his tone. ‘The one Rob’s so wrapped up in now he’s left the family business. The one supporting your sister, Felicity, and her boyfriend.’ He all but spat the word.
Ella swung around, her pulse fluttering in her throat.
‘Rob’s money, not yours.’
He shrugged, his gaze sliding sideways. ‘I...accessed some of it to tide me over.’ He must have sensed her outrage, cutting her off before she could speak. ‘If I go down, so do they. How do you think they’ll cope when the cash to finish refurbishing their fine resort disappears?’ Triumph lit her father’s pale eyes.
Impotent fury blindsided her. He’d stolen from Rob but still expected her to help him!
Trust him to realise her feelings for her siblings was a weakness he could exploit.
She’d felt profound relief that Fuzz and Rob had finally broken from their father’s slimy influence. He’d poisoned their lives too long. If they lost this chance to build something for themselves... Ella shrank inside. Rob might be okay; he’d shown unexpected steel in walking away from all their father offered. But Fuzz had done so little for herself. Despite her sister’s air of casual unconcern Ella knew she had deep-seated self-doubts. A setback like this—
Ella stiffened her shoulders like a prisoner facing a firing squad even as everything inside screamed in protest.
‘All right,’ she bit out. ‘I’ll meet him.’
But only to explain that her sister, Felicity, was no longer part of the business deal.
It would be straightforward. What sane man expected marriage to cement a business deal?
* * *
‘Here she is at last.’ Her father’s voice vibrated with bonhomie. ‘I’d like you to meet my daughter Ella.’
For a moment longer she stood, watching the dying sun turn Sydney Harbour to a mirror of peach and copper. Then with a swift, sustaining breath she made herself turn.
‘Ella, my dear.’ Her father’s greeting made her blink. It was the first endearment he’d ever given her. She stared blankly. Once she’d have given anything to hear him address her with approval and pleasure.
The realisation made something long-forgotten crumple inside.
He spoke again. Ella heard the name Donato Salazar and pasted on a smile. She turned to the man beside him, looking up, then up again.
Something jabbed hard at her insides, a blow that all but rocked Ella back on her feet after the shock of her father’s words.
The man before her didn’t belong at one of her father’s parties. That was her first thought.
These events teetered on the borderline between trendy and louche. This man was too...definite to be either. Elemental was the word hovering in her head. He was like a force of nature, a leader, not one of the led.
Beautiful was her second thought.
Even the thin scar running up one cheek emphasised rather than detracted from the powerful beauty of that face.
It was beautiful in the way a remote mountain crag was, its icy peak compelling to climbers yet treacherous. In the way a storm at sea was beautiful in its lethal magnificence.
Which led to her third thought: dangerous.
It wasn’t just his utter stillness, his total focus as he scrutinised her like an amoeba under a microscope. Or that his spare, gorgeous face was hewn of slashing strokes and planes, not a curve to be seen. Except for that thin, perfectly defined mouth that drew her gaze.
