AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It was crazy.
How could he have done such a thing? It was an unacceptable, inexplicable loss of control, and he was not a man given to losses of control or, for that matter, to doing things that were either inexplicable or unacceptable.
“Let go of me,” the woman snapped.
Draco looked at her. She was as white as paper, and trembling.
“Easy,” he started to say, but she cut him short.
“Are you deaf? Let go!”
“Look, bella, I know you’re upset—”
“Damnit, let go!”
His mouth thinned. Was she going to try to label him the villain in this little drama?
“With pleasure, once I’m convinced you’re in control of your senses.” He waited, watched her face. “Are you?”
“You’d better believe I am.”
There was no panic in her voice now, only razor-sharp warning. A muscle knotted in Draco’
s jaw. Then, with elaborate care, he took his hands from her.
In a flash she tossed off the blanket, pushed the button that brought her seat upright, shot to her feet. He did the same, if a split second later.
“Listen to me,” he said …
Too late.
She had already turned and fled.
CHAPTER FOUR
DRACO exited Fiumicino Airport, his cell phone at his ear.
“Just tell your boss that I am not, repeat, not going to meet his representative an hour from now. Two hours from now. That’s the best I’ll do. You don’t know if you can get in touch with his rep?” Draco took the phone from his ear and glared at it. “That is not my problem—it is yours.”
One good thing about old-fashioned desk phones, he thought grimly as he ended the call. In moments like this, you could slam the thing down and get some satisfaction out of it.
“Il mio principe!”
Heads swiveled. Glowering, Draco eyeballed his Maserati and his driver and strode toward them.
The man beamed. “Buon giorno, il mio principe. Come è stato il vostro volo?”
“My flight was a nightmare,” Draco snarled, “and must you announce my title to the world?”
Merda. The driver’s face fell. The man had been with him only a couple of weeks; he was just trying to be pleasant.
Draco took a deep breath, forced a smile he hoped was not a grimace to his lips.
“Mi dispiace. I’m sorry. I’m just jet-lagged.”
“You must not apologize to me, sir! It is my fault, surely.”
The driver clapped his heels together, lifted Draco’s carry-on, and reached for the handle of the rear door just as Draco did the same. Their hands and arms collided.
