‘Shouldn’t you be telling my father this, give him a chance to fix the loophole before you sign?’
He smiled at her naiveté. ‘Why should I? I stand to gain by signing the agreement as it’s drawn up.’
Her brow creased. ‘Then why tell me about it? What’s to keep me from telling my father about it the moment I leave here?’
‘You won’t.’
One expertly plucked eyebrow lifted. ‘Again, I think you underestimate me.’
He strode to the extensively stocked bar and poured himself a shot of vodka. ‘You won’t because if you do I won’t sign the agreement in any form. And the offer of financial backing vanishes.’
All trace of colour left her face. ‘So this is a blackmail attempt. To what purpose?’
‘The purpose needn’t concern you. All I want you to know is that there is a loophole which I can choose to exploit or leave alone, depending on your cooperation.’
‘But what is to stop you from going ahead with whatever you have planned after I’ve cooperated with…what exactly is it you want from me?’
‘That’s the simple part, anjo. I want to keep you. Until such time as I tire of you. Then you will be set free.’
* * *
When the full meaning of his words finally became clear, ice cascaded down Inez’s spine. Despite the warm temperature, she shivered.
Oh, how easily he said the words. As if her answer meant nothing to him. But of course it did. He’d been planning this for a while. The meeting this morning outside the coffee shop—which she was now certain hadn’t been coincidental—the dinner invitation that he’d probably known her father wouldn’t be able to attend due to his long-standing monthly dinner with the oil minister, the invitation to the yacht, which was sure to cause a reaction in her brother, letting Pietro drink far more than he should’ve so he’d get her alone…
‘You planned this,’ she accused in a hushed tone because her throat was working to swallow down her rising anger.
‘I plan everything, Inez,’ he replied simply.
She looked into his face. The indomitable determination stamped on his harsh features sent a wave of anxiety through her.
She started to speak, to say the words that seemed unreal to her and her mouth trembled. His gaze dropped to the telling reaction and she immediately clamped her lips together. Showing weakness would only get her eaten alive.
Not that she wouldn’t be anyway. A bubble of hysteria threatened. She swallowed and held his gaze.
‘You want me to be your mistress?’
He laughed long and deeply. ‘Is that what you would call yourself?’
She flushed. ‘How else would you describe what you’ve just demanded of me? This keeping me? What you’re suggesting is archaic enough to be described as such. Or does plaything more suit your pseudo-modernistic outlook?’
‘No, Inez. I don’t like the term plaything either. I have no intention of playing with you. No, what I foresee for us is much more grown up than that.’ The sexual intent behind the statement was unmistakable.
Rather than being offended or shocked, Inez found herself growing breathless. Excited.
No!
‘Yes,’ he murmured as if he’d read her mind.
‘Whatever term you slap on your intentions, I refuse to be a part of it. I’m going to find my brother—’
He slowly sank onto the plush seat, curved his hand along the back of the chair and levelled one ankle over his knee. ‘And tell him that you’ve dashed his hopes of a possible high profile position in your father’s administration because you couldn’t take one for the team? I don’t think you’re in a position to refuse any demands I make, anjo.’
‘Stop calling me that! And I won’t be a pawn in whatever game you’re playing with my father and brother. Pietro is well aware of that.’
‘Really? Since when? Wasn’t serving on your father’s campaign the reason you dropped out of university? Clearly, you play a part in your father’s political ambitions or you wouldn’t have been trying to fleece poor Alfonso. Why stop now when you’re so close to achieving your goals? And why claim innocence when it’s something you’ve done before?’