“What details?”
“Address. Phone number.”
She bit into her lower lip. “Why do you need my address?”
“To send you the paperwork.”
“Can’t you email it?”
He stared at her for a beat, and she realised how sketchy she must have seemed. How borderline paranoid. But she had a pretty damn good reason to be, after all.
“How long will it take?” she asked instead, toying with the button of her shirt—his shirt—before realising it had drawn his attention to the swell of her breasts. Everything clamped up inside of her. Her stomach seemed to compress, her nipples tingled. She turned her back quickly, sucking in a short breath.
“I don’t know.” Even with her back turned, his voice had the power to reach around and torment her. She squeezed her eyes against that powerful drugging sound. “It is my first annulment. I imagine I can expedite matters.”
“Okay. As in, today?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
She turned then. “I’m staying at a motel off the strip.” Her eyes landed on a notepad and pen, the sort that were supplied with hotels of this calibre. She stalked across and removed the top piece, carrying it to the kitchen bench, where her coffee sat, half-drunk. “Here.” She scrawled the address, observing the ‘Di Santis’ logo on the page. Something blared in her mind. A memory, but she couldn’t quite reach for it.
Before she could drill down into that, there was a buzz at the door. He moved towards it, uncaring for his state of undress, but Ally was definitely not accustomed to being waited on while wearing barely anything. She squawked and padded swiftly into the kitchen, hiding herself around the corner.
She heard murmured voices and a moment later, he returned with a shopping bag. Not a plastic shopping bag, either, but one of those expensive paper bags with corded string handles. She eyed it warily.
“Clothes,” he offered.
“That was quick.”
“There is a boutique in the hotel.”
“Still,” she stared at him, frowning. “The concierge must have hot footed it there as soon as he got off the call with you.”
The man looked at her as though this was not new information, nor particularly interesting. He was clearly loaded.
Hey, maybe he could help erase her debt? Except, she’d never ask. Of course she wouldn’t. She’d learned her lesson. Taking money from strangers was an appalling idea. If she hadn’t been desperate, she never would have gone down that path. But the operation had been the last chance to save her father’s life; of course she’d had to try it. Even if it had cost an arm and a leg.
She moved towards the man, aware that her legs weren’t quite steady as she crossed the room. Little wonder—she’d drunk half a bar the night before, and Ally rarely imbibed more than a glass of wine with dinner. She reached for the bag but it was impossible to take without their fingers brushing, and the second they did, she was back in that tacky chapel, one of his hands on her hip, the other lifting and curling around her cheek, drawing her face to his. Goosebumps lifted over her skin and her eyes fell to his lips, memories of the way they’d felt against hers warming her blood to boiling point.
“Thank you,” she mumbled, quickly jumping back as though electrocuted.
“You’re welcome, Allegra.”
A shiver ran down her spine once more, and she spun away, hoping to conceal her reaction. There was something about this man that was liquid gold. Sexy, but dangerous, because he made her want to stay. And she couldn’t stay anywhere. Not without putting herself—and others—at risk.
“I won’t be long.”
“There is no rush.” But how could he know the dangerous men who wanted her to succumb to them? The man who had her over a barrel because of life-saving money she’d borrowed without doing her proper research?
All the heat disappeared, leaving her chilled to the core. She slipped from the palatial lounge area without a backwards glance.
He could still smellthe lingering scent of her fragrance in the air, minutes after Allegra had left, when his phone rang.
He saw his grandfather’s number and contemplated ignoring the call. But Luca had inherited—amongst other things—his stubborn streak from his grandfather. If he failed to answer the phone, the old man would just keep trying.
With his features bearing a grim mask, he swiped the phone to answer. “Ciao.”
“I see you listened to my advice.”
