would turn my stomach—it was the sight of you getting down and dirty with my bastard brother.’
MY BASTARD BROTHER.
This time there could be no doubt about it, though Alyse’s thoughts reeled in disbelief at what she heard. She hadn’t been sure earlier—mi caro fratello—but in plain, straightforward English it couldn’t be clearer.
But that just wasn’t possible—was it? Marcus was a solid, stolid Englishman with the pale colouring and eyes that marked him out as pure Anglo-Saxon. He had nothing of Dario’s stunning golden skin and sleek black hair. Those blue, blue eyes that met hers in a stare of blank confrontation were the only thing that could seem to connect the two. And bastard brother...
‘Half-brother, to be more accurate,’ Dario put in now, though it stuck in his throat to even acknowledge that connection. ‘Though definitely the bastard.’
She hadn’t known that—or certainly not all of it, he realised. If the confusion that was written on her pale face was genuine. Somehow she had managed to avoid hearing about the scandal that had exploded in the gossip columns years ago when he had turned up at the Kavanaugh home to carry out his mother’s last wishes and claim acknowledgement from his family. But that was impossible, surely. When her father was employed by Marcus and his father, tangled up in everything the younger man did, then even Lady Alyse Gregory must know something of what was going on.
‘I...’
That unsettled stare went from his face to Marcus’s and back again, no sign of anything but confusion showing in it. So it hadn’t been because of who he was that she had chosen him. Obviously any man would have done.
So would she have gone through with it if they hadn’t been so rudely interrupted? Or had she calculated this down to the precise second so that they would be caught together at just the last possible moment?
‘The last man whose leavings I’d want to touch.’ Marcus was really feeling savage now.
Oh, that had hit home. He had caught her on the raw there, and Dario had to admit to a twist of admiration at the way her head came up, her eyes flashed. At last she looked like the woman she was. The product of years of aristocratic heritage, of pure blue-blooded breeding. The woman Henry Kavanaugh dreamed of having as the mother of his grandchildren.
‘I’m nobody’s leavings! And if you hadn’t refused to take no for an answer, then I wouldn’t have been forced to...’
The impetus given her by the rush of indignation had obviously ebbed, and she turned a wary, uncertain look on Dario, clearly realising that she had just dug herself even deeper into the hole she found herself in. There was more to that look too. She wasn’t asking but summoning him to her aid. She actually expected him to come to her assistance, confirm her story. But if she thought he was going to give her a helping hand, then she had better think again. That ‘forced’ had hit home, barbs sticking into his skin.
‘I wouldn’t have had to...’
The careful amendment did nothing to soothe Dario’s mood. He was keeping out of this one until she had decided which way she was going to jump.
‘You’ll regret this.’ Marcus’s tone was low and savage.
‘I already do.’
So now they were getting closer to the truth. That last comment had the ring of conviction in it. Obviously Lady Alyse Gregory would regret her unthinking and indiscreet lapse of control. Particularly as she had now discovered that she had thrown herself into the arms of the Italian bastard that Marcus had revealed him to be.
Clearly his half-brother thought so too. There was actually a smile of triumph in those pale eyes.
‘And nothing happened? Then come with me now and we’ll forget all about this foolishness.’
Wrong move, brother, Dario thought to himself. Even on his short acquaintance with her, he was pretty damn sure that Alyse would not respond well to that autocratic ‘come with me now’. The only way he could have made matters worse would have been by snapping his fingers at her as if he was calling a dog to heel.
And Alyse Gregory was no obedient pet. That was plain from the way her mouth tightened, and she shook back the mane of golden hair.
‘No.’
She had to say it, Alyse acknowledged inwardly. There was no other option. Given a choice in the matter, she would have walked out of here right now and never looked back at either Dario or Marcus. She had no idea just what these two brothers—brothers!—were up to but she had no wish to get caught in the middle of whatever personal war they were intent on fighting.
But leaving meant letting Marcus think that he had won. And that was the last thing she wanted. Hadn’t she set out on this crazy venture in the first place as a way of making sure that he left her alone? That he stopped plaguing her with expressions of how beneficial it would be for the two of them, blending the aristocratic blood of her line with the wealth and security that he could bring to the table. She had never been able to get him to accept her refusal, and if she left with him now then it would all be to do again.
‘No,’ she tried again when he looked unconvinced.
‘Alyse...’
‘The lady said no,’ Dario drawled unexpectedly from behind her. ‘You lose.’
You lose! If earlier she had felt like some vulnerable prey, now the sensation was much more like some tasty bone being fought over by two bad-tempered dogs.
What did he think she was? Some sort of trophy—just a notch on his bedpost? Not that they had got as far as the bed! Just let them get rid of Marcus and she would make him pay for that.
Dario moved past her, taking hold of the door and moving it to block Marcus’s entrance.
‘Goodnight, Marcus,’ he said pointedly.
‘I swear you’ll regret this.’ It was so different this time. The voice of darkness with threat threaded through every word. ‘You’ll...’
‘Goodnight, Marcus.’
Dario pushed the door even closer to being shut, blocking out the sight of Marcus’s enraged face. Alyse found that she was holding her breath, not knowing what she would do if he refused to leave. Would they have to call the police?
She could just imagine what her father’s reaction would be if she was involved in some scandal that hit the newspapers, tonight of all nights. He had asked her—begged her—not to rile Kavanaugh, to keep the family name out of the gossip columns. It would just destroy her mother, who had recently retreated into one of her black depressions. That was why she had decided on the plan that was supposed to make Marcus reject the idea of marriage. A plan that now seemed to have had more effect than she could ever have dreamed of.
‘Damn you to hell, Olivero!’ Marcus flung one more violent outburst at the other man.
But then, to Alyse’s relief, he finally turned and marched off down the corridor, swearing as he went.
‘At last.’
Dario kicked the door shut behind him, his smile an expression of grim satisfaction as he turned back to Alyse.
‘I think we’ve seen the back of him.’
‘Mmm...’
Alyse was preoccupied with finally hitching her dress up so that it sat securely on her shoulders again, struggling to get her hands on the pull of the zip at her waist, to restore her appearance to normality.
‘So where were we?’
She hadn’t seen him come closer, prowling soft as a hunting cat, so she jumped violently when he touched her, warm and soft on her cheek.
‘What?’ Her head