.

held her angry gaze, and she saw that flecks of silver were dappling his eyes like sea foam. Her heart began to thump painfully.

      ‘Why bother?’ he said easily, glancing at his watch. ‘I’m meeting the Chief of Police in an hour for lunch. We’re old friends. I can mention your concerns to him, if you like.’

      The expression on his face was hard to define, but whatever it was it didn’t improve her temper. ‘Which presumably he’ll then ignore?’ she snapped. Damn him! Pretending he was concerned about her when they both knew the exact opposite was true.

      ‘There’s no need to get hysterical, cara.’ There was a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. ‘I’m only trying to help you.’

      It was the last straw. Her voice rose shrilly. ‘You’re not trying to help anyone but yourself.’

      He took a step towards her and held out his hands apologetically, placatingly. ‘I am. Truly. And I’m sorry about all this noise and mess.’ Turning, he barked out a few words in rapid Italian, and as if a switch had been flicked the hammering and drilling stopped and within seconds the kitchen was empty and silent.

      She stared at him, confused.

      ‘Here. Drink this.’ He held out a glass of water and then as she took it, he shook his head and said softly, ‘You see. You’re already starting to wish you’d taken the money, aren’t you?’

      For a moment she floundered, shocked by his malice and sheer bloody-mindedness, and then anger, hot and damp like wet earth, rose in her throat. Breathing out slowly, she put the glass on the table. She wanted to kill him.

      ‘Is that why you’re doing all of this?’

      He shook his head. ‘No. I’m doing all this for my new tenant. Your new neighbour.’

      She gaped at him. ‘What new neighbour?’

      ‘The new tenant who’s moving in today. It was in the email.’ He paused. ‘The one that wasn’t sent.’ He smiled blandly. ‘Don’t look so worried. I hand-picked him myself.’

      It took all her will-power not to throw the glass of water at his head. Finally, she said flatly, ‘Let me guess. He’s a drummer in a band. Or maybe he breeds huskies or budgerigars.’

      He laughed. ‘Are you saying I’d deliberately pick an antisocial tenant to make your life hard?’ He shook his head. ‘Sorry to disappoint you but there’s no dogs or birds. Just a nice, quiet businessman.’

      Something wasn’t right.

      His words nudged each other inside her head and then she knew what it was. She went hot, then cold, and then hot again with horror.

      ‘No!’ She shook her head, her pupils flaring. ‘No! You are not moving in here. You can’t—’

      ‘But I can.’

      He paused, and her pulse soared as he smiled at her slowly—a dark, taunting smile that sent a shiver through her body.

      ‘You’re not scared, are you, cara? After all, it’s a big house.’

      She felt a jolt, low down, felt suddenly horribly out of her depth. It was a big house but she knew that he would dominate every inch of it. A lump rose in her throat. It wasn’t fair. This house was her home—her refuge from the world. But how was she supposed to feel safe living with a man who looked at her with such absolute focus? Such predatory purpose?

      Fear mingling with desire, she stared at him in silence, terrified that he might somehow be able to read her mind as the blue gaze lingered on her hot, flushed face.

      Finally, he shrugged. ‘I’ve taken the bedroom next to yours—the blue room.’ Pausing, he smiled coldly. ‘Of course if you don’t like it you can always move rooms. Or move out.’

      Her stomach clenched, and she could barely swallow her anger. ‘Over my dead body.’

      Massimo smiled coldly. Normally his business decisions were based on logic and reason. But his decision to move into the palazzo had been driven by pure, elemental rage. Flora had defied him and he’d wanted to punish her defiance—to rub his power in her face.

      Giorgio had been appalled. His team astonished. It had been reckless and completely out of character. And yet he’d still gone ahead and done it.

      His body twitched and he stared at her greedily, a memory of her near naked body stealing into his mind like a cat burglar. For weeks it had been the same story. He’d found it impossible to concentrate, his mind drifting off, distracted by images of a fierce-eyed Flora melting into his arms—

      His breathing slowed. And why not, he thought idly. He’d tried money and threats and reasoning with her and none of those had worked. So why not seduction?