Mistress at the Italian's Command. Melanie Milburne

still going to stand there and deny it was you?’ he asked.

      Ally let out a scratchy sigh and put the photos back inside the envelope. She handed them to him. ‘There doesn’t seem much point, does there?’ she said, mentally resigning herself to the task of maintaining the charade a little longer.

      He put the envelope back inside his jacket pocket, still holding her gaze. ‘Now,’ he said, ‘we come to the issue of the money.’

      Ally disguised a lumpy swallow. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

      His eyes were like black diamonds as they tethered hers. ‘Three days ago Rocco was in possession of a large sum of company funds which he was intending to take to the bank. He told me you intercepted him, and that rather than cause a scene on the street he agreed to talk to you in the privacy of a nearby hotel room. After spending a short period of time with him you disappeared—along with the money.’

      Ally felt her stomach drop in alarm. ‘I’m not sure why that necessarily means I am responsible,’ she said, pushing her chin up defiantly. ‘Anyone could have taken it. Rocco included.’

      His top lip lifted in an arc of derision. ‘Rocco might not be my favourite brother-in-law, but he is a valuable asset to my investment company. I employed him because of his financial acuity. I have never had a moment’s doubt about his professionalism. If he says you stole the money I have no reason not to believe him.’

      Ally had to think on her feet, and fast. The money was burning a hole in her handbag and he had only to insist on searching the flat to find it. Her sister would not escape the heavy hand of the law—especially as she was to all intents and purposes a visitor to the country. A theft on that scale would not be overlooked. Certainly not if Vittorio Vassallo had his arrogant way about it.

      ‘It’s his word against mine,’ she said, throwing him a challenging glare. ‘If you go public about this I’ll give my own interview to the press on how your brother-in-law seduced me. I’m sure that will go down a treat with all your high-flying investors.’

      Anger exploded in his dark gaze. ‘You conniving little bitch,’ he ground out. ‘That’s exactly the sort of thing you would do—which is why I am here to do everything in my power to stop you.’

      Ally straightened her spine, even though her legs beneath it wobbled alarmingly. ‘You don’t scare me, Mr Vassallo.’

      His eyes glittered dangerously. ‘Give me time, Mrs Sharpe,’ he drawled. ‘Just give me time.’

      The ensuing silence was so tense the air crackled with it.

      Ally stood as still as her trembling body would allow. There was a roaring in her ears, a sinking feeling in her stomach, and a tight band of tension around her forehead at the thought of taking Vittorio Vassallo on in a battle she couldn’t possibly hope to win.

      She was outclassed.

      She was out of her depth.

       She was a fraud…

      ‘Rocco informed me you left your job in London to follow him here. Is that correct?’ he asked.

      Ally tried not to fidget under his piercing scrutiny. ‘Er… yes.’

      ‘So you are currently unemployed. Is that also correct?’ he asked.

      ‘That is correct,’ she lied, her conscience not even niggling her this time. Why should it? she thought. She was on leave for the next two weeks, so technically she wasn’t working.

      ‘I have a proposition for you,’ he said into the ringing silence.

      Ally lifted her chin to a pugnacious height. ‘Oh, really?’

      ‘My brother-in-law has been a stupid fool where you have been concerned, but he would perhaps not have succumbed to temptation if you had not pursued him so relentlessly,’ he said. ‘Can you imagine how my sister would feel to find out she has been usurped by a common little slut like you?’

      Ally was incensed at his choice of words. ‘If your sister was being a proper wife to him perhaps he wouldn’t have strayed in the first place,’ she threw back.

      A tiny hammer of tension began beating beneath the dark stubble on his jaw next to his mouth. His coal-black eyes blazed with simmering anger, making her stomach suddenly contract in fear.

      ‘You are like a bitch in heat,’ he snarled at her. ‘You will bed anyone, any time, for any cheap trinket thrown your way.’

      Ally stiffened with fury. He was making her sister sound like an avaricious tramp. Although she didn’t know all the details of Alex’s life over the last twelve months, she wasn’t going to allow Vittorio Vassallo to malign her twin without fighting back.

      ‘Your brother-in-law is a two-timing creep,’ she snipped at him. ‘I pity his wife. I am sure I’m not the first woman he’s had on the side.’

      ‘You are right,’ he said, surprising her with his candidness. ‘Rocco is weak where beautiful women are concerned. His affair with you is not his first, and I dare say will not be his last.’

      Ally tried to put some space between them, but the room was too small and he was too big. She could smell the lemon-based fragrance of his aftershave. It had been drifting towards her nostrils for the last few minutes, but she had been doing her best to ignore its alluring potency. And failing miserably. Her body was reacting to him in a way she had never thought possible. She was both frightened and attracted at the same time. He had a magnetic aura about him. He was the epitome of the successful businessman—wealth and prestige clung to him like a second skin—but she could see a glint of implacable ruthlessness in his eyes that secretly terrified her.