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I eased out of the chair as my consigliere Matteo Ferrante walked into the lounge.

‘Capo, we will arrive at the compound in five and a half hours. A celebration has been arranged for your return…’

I controlled a groan. The last damn thing I wanted was a party when all I really wished to do was sleep. But the painkillers had started to give the wound in my side a glorious numb feeling, and I did not want to disappoint the men. They had believed me as good as dead for months—and my escape would be more proof of the invincibility I had spent years cultivating. Plus claiming ownership of the girl in front of them would lift their spirits after the many gruelling battles with Rocco over the past two years.

Sicilians were a superstitious people by nature, especially those who made their living outside the law. And I could sleep when I was dead.

‘Bene,’ I said, determined to enjoy my freedom. ‘I will greet the men, then I wish to meet with those who have been running the different aspects of the business while I was held captive. Tell them to bring their women with them.’ Making it a social occasion would put them at ease and help me to determine if any of them had sought to threaten my leadership or create a powerbase during my captivity. Unlikely, but always a possibility—and another reason to be furious with Vito for holding me prisoner for so long.

But first I had business in my cabin. ‘Do not disturb me until we reach Cala Verde,’ I said.

The realisation that I was the ruler of my own destiny again shimmered in my blood as I left the deck. The thought of facing my brother on my own terms was an even more seductive prospect. But neither of those victories could compare to the wave of validation flowing through me as I reached the deck where my stateroom was situated.

I would not harm the girl… But I had every intention of using her. How I would use her, though, remained to be seen.

‘Not so dangerous now, are you, Dante?’

The words she had whispered—believing I did not understand them—had shamed me this morning, but they made me smile now. I was extremely dangerous, because I would use any and all means to get what I desired the most—a share of the Rocco empire which could never be stolen from me again.

I spoke to one of the stewards and ordered a lavish breakfast to be brought to the cabin. The girl must be hungry and feeding her would be a good way to show her we did not need to be enemies, so long as she did as I demanded.

My plans though, to assess the strength of the spark between us, took a nosedive when I strolled into my stateroom and found the bed empty, then heard retching over the sound of the waves buffeting the hull.

I swore softly and walked into my bathroom to find the girl crouched over the toilet bowl. She glanced up at me, her wide autumn eyes full of misery and that cloud of blonde hair a messy halo around her pale face. The outline of her nipples against her damp T-shirt sent a jolt of lust through my system, but an unfamiliar pang wasn’t far behind.

Was that pity? I could not be sure, because it was a long time since I had succumbed to such a lowering emotion.

What was even stranger though was that when she murmured, ‘I don’t think boats agree with me…’ I couldn’t control my huff of amusement or resist the impulse to brush the blonde curls out of her eyes.

I hooked the hair behind her ear, the pulse of heat unmistakable when she did not draw away from my touch.

The urge to end her misery was surprising. But she looked so fragile, so exhausted and wary—and she had helped me, at the risk of her own liberty.

‘Andrà tutto bene, Eva,’ I said as I cupped her elbow and tugged her to her feet.

The reassuring words were a lie, because everything would not be OK for her if she did not do as I told her, but even so the pity for her returned.

I would never be so stupid as to put her welfare above my own. But as I found the motion sickness pills I’d stashed in the cabinet then filled a glass with water and handed it to her, I decided this was no more than payback for her dumb decision to help me earlier.

‘What are they?’ she asked when I shook two pills from the bottle.

I nodded to her belly. ‘Per il tuo stomaco,’ I said, before placing the pills in her palm.

She nodded, tears of gratitude leaking from her eyes.

She gulped the pills down, then smiled at me as she handed back the glass, her gaze confused but also stupidly trusting.

‘Grazie, Dante,’ she whispered. The unhelpful sympathy tangled with the shot of adrenaline at the sound of my name on her lips—and made me recoil.

Was she trying to play me, with those big doe eyes?

I frowned, annoyed that I could not be sure.

Clasping the girl’s wrist, I hauled her roughly back into the bedroom, determined to destroy my pity.

All I required was her cooperation and her obedience…

Perhaps I would also exploit the chemistry which I could no longer deny.