Emma Darcy

The Costarella Conquest


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You can tell them both to come and meet our guest.’

      ‘Will do,’ she said, glad to leave the two men together, though knowing that the stirring of the family pot couldn’t be delayed for long. Her father expected instant obedience to his call.

      The garden was her mother’s refuge. She was never happier than when discussing what could be done next to it with Nick Jeffries, the handyman who shared her enthusiasm for creating wonderful visual effects and did all the heavy work for her. Laura loved this garden, too, loved every aspect of landscape design, making something beautiful instead of tearing something down … as her father did.

      And as Jake Freedman did.

      It would be stupid to forget that. She could never, never be in tune with a mind that dealt with destruction.

      ‘Mum, Eddie …’ she called out. They were by the rockpool, where Nick had installed the new solar lights. ‘Dad’s guest is here.’

      Her mother’s smile of pleasure instantly drooped into a grimace. She darted an anxious look at her son, worried about an imminent clash of personalities.

      Eddie hugged her shoulders, smiling reassurance. ‘I promise I’ll be good, Mum. No bad boy today.’

      It won a wry little laugh.

      Eddie made a great bad boy in the soap opera he currently starred in. The wild flop of his thick black hair, the designer stubble along his angular jawline, the dimple in his chiselled chin, the piercing blue eyes … all made him a very popular pin-up, especially on his flash motorbike. He was wearing black leathers today, though he was now carrying his jacket, discarded because of the heat of the morning. His white T-shirt was emblazoned with a Harley-Davidson. He played a bikie and he looked like one, much to her father’s disgust.

      The three of them started strolling back towards the patio, son and daughter flanking their mother, determined to keep a happy ball rolling for her. Why she stayed with their father was beyond their comprehension. There was no joy in the marriage. Having a very dominant husband who controlled everything seemed to have sapped her of any will for an independent life.

      Laura always thought of her mother as a lady, never anything but beautifully dressed and groomed, imbued with gracious manners, doing everything correctly and tastefully, making a special ritual of keeping fresh floral arrangements in the house, which she did herself. Even her name, Alicia, was somehow very ladylike.

      She looked particularly lovely today, her newly dyed blond hair cut into a short, fluffy style, a blue silk tunic giving her eyes more colour. They had seemed so dull and washed out lately, Laura had worried there might be a health problem her mother was not admitting to. She was getting too thin, as well, a fact hidden by the loosely fitting long-sleeved tunic. The white slacks were also loose, affecting a casually elegant look. Certainly no one would notice anything amiss with her, not on the surface. Jake Freedman would probably pigeonhole her as the typical rich man’s wife.

      ‘What’s he like?’ her mother asked.

      ‘James Bond,’ popped straight out of Laura’s mouth.

      ‘What? Loaded and dangerous?’ Eddie queried.

      She grinned at him. ‘Plus gorgeous and sexy.’

      He rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t you go falling for him, Laura. That’s bad territory.’

      ‘Yes, be careful,’ her mother quickly warned, her eyes anxious again. ‘Your father might want you to like this man. There has to be some motive behind inviting him here today.’

      ‘Could be that marrying the boss’s daughter is on Jake Freedman’s agenda,’ Eddie put in, grinning wolfishly, then snapping his teeth to make the point.

      Marriage?

      Never!

      She’d walked out of every relationship she’d had once the guy started making demands on her, which always happened sooner or later. From what she’d witnessed at home, marriage was an endless string of demands, plus abuse thrown in if the demands weren’t met. No man was ever going to own her as his wife.

      She rolled her eyes back at Eddie. ‘I’m not so easy to gobble up. I’ll be feeding him lunch. He can whistle for anything more from me.’

      ‘Humphrey Bogart,’ her mother murmured.

      ‘What?’

      ‘Humphrey Bogart. He whistled for Lauren Bacall. It was in an old movie.’

      ‘Well, I haven’t seen it.’

      ‘Did he get her in the end?’ Eddie asked.

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘No doubt she wanted to be got,’ Laura said, giving her brother a quelling look. ‘Different story.’

      ‘I’ll be watching the mouth of Dad’s man of the moment,’ he tossed back at her, wicked teasing in his eyes. ‘If he starts whistling …’

      ‘It’s more likely the man of the moment is about to be used to show you up as a footloose lightweight, Eddie, so watch your own mouth.’

      ‘I don’t know … I don’t know …’ their mother fretted.

      ‘It’s okay, Mum,’ Eddie quickly soothed. ‘Laura and I have put our walls up and nothing is going to crack them today. Just you relax now. We’re both on guard.’

      It was a relief to hear Eddie so sure that his protective armour was in place. Laura wished she could say the same for herself. Despite what her mind dictated, as soon as they came into view of the two men on the patio and she caught Jake Freedman’s gaze on her, there was no wall at all to hold off the sexual chemistry he triggered in her.

      Immediately she felt a wild tingling in her breasts, shooting her nipples into hard bullets. Her hips started swaying provocatively, driven by some primitive instinct to show off her femininity. Heat whooshed to the apex of her thighs and somehow melted the normal strength in her legs. Her toes curled. And turbulent temptation crashed through every bit of common sense that told her to keep away from this man.

      She would love to have him.

      Regardless of how wrong it would be.

      She would love to have him.

      Just for the experience!

      CHAPTER TWO

      JAKE found it difficult to tear his gaze away from Laura to make a quick assessment of the other two people he was about to meet. The mother was more or less what he expected of Alex Costarella’s wife—a lady-of-the-manor type who undoubtedly kept his house as beautifully as she kept herself—but the son was a surprise … unkempt, longish black hair, designer stubble, clothes indicative of a bikie. Obviously Eddie didn’t toe his father’s line, either.

      Two rebellious children and one submissive wife.

      Was he supposed to tame Laura, draw her into becoming the kind of woman her father would approve of, sharing his world instead of striking out on her own, pleasing herself?

      He looked at her again and felt a tightening in his groin. She was, without a doubt, the most desirable woman he’d ever come into contact with, dangerous to play with, yet the idea of drawing her away from her father made her all the more tempting. It was fair justice for Costarella to feel the loss of someone dear to him as well as the loss of the business that gave him the power to wreck people’s lives.

      He was acutely aware of Laura watching him as her father performed the introductions, weighing up how he responded to her family.

      ‘Alicia, my wife …’

      ‘Delighted to meet you,’ Jake rolled out with a smile.

      She returned it but there was a wary look in her eyes as she replied, ‘Welcome to our home.’

      ‘And my son, Eddie, who obviously didn’t bother to shave this morning, not even