he liked the pet name on Ella’s lips. He wanted to hear it again.
She blinked and he realised she was waiting for his response. Beyond her the hungry-looking woman with the blinding teeth and the bony collarbone watched avidly.
‘You need to ask, corazón?’ He let his hand slip down from the sweet incurve of Ella’s waist to linger, circling at her hip. ‘How could I look at another woman when I have you? You’re the sexiest woman I know.’
‘Even with my curves?’ Her tinkle of laughter was a fair imitation of the woman standing before them, but Donato knew Ella well enough to hear the tightness in her voice. She did a good job of hiding it but, he realised, the other woman’s words had struck home. He frowned, remembering so many times when Ella had tried to hide her body, as if uncomfortable with him seeing her naked.
‘Your body,’ he said deliberately, ‘is a work of art.’ He yanked her against him and her escaping breath puffed warm across his chin. ‘Any designer would adore dressing you. You look like a woman, not a scrawny sack of bones.’
Dimly he was aware of a shocked hiss from the woman beside them, but his attention was on Ella’s widening eyes.
Bending his head, he nipped the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder. She went limp, her head tipping back. Donato tasted summer fruit as he licked the spot then nuzzled his way up to her ear.
Ella gasped and clutched his shoulders and he scooped her closer, one hand at her hip, the other on the warm, smooth skin between her shoulder blades. Another kiss and she arched in silent invitation.
He needed to pull back. He’d made his point. They were in a public place.
But he didn’t give a damn about creating a scene. Not with Ella in his arms. Not when he wanted to erase the hint of pain he’d read in her eyes. And forget the slash of guilt that he, with his insistence on this farce of an engagement, had made her a target for that witch’s claws. But he couldn’t renege now. Not so close to bringing Sanderson to ruin.
Did guilt heighten his desire? Donato wanted to lose himself in Ella. She was a drug in his blood, a pleasure he’d grown addicted to.
Carajo, he was even hearing bells now. Kissing Ella, holding her in his arms, made him forget where he was.
Her hands on his shoulders shifted, pushed, and she pulled her head back. Dazed silver eyes met his, their pupils huge and unfocused.
Donato leaned in to take her mouth again.
‘No.’ Her whisper came from lips now bare of make-up but deliciously dark and plump from their kisses. ‘Interval’s over.’
Donato looked around the rapidly emptying space. What had begun as a deliberate display had become something else. The burn of rage and guilt in his belly and the indefinable emotions that stirred when Ella had turned to him, looking proud yet so vulnerable, had torn away something within him. He’d wanted to erase every vestige of hurt from her face, but in the process he’d lost himself.
Nato, she’d called him. And it had felt right. So right he hadn’t wanted to draw back.
He’d wanted to help her but he’d also needed to tap into that sense of well-being she always gave him. It was a feeling he’d come to crave.
And he’d wanted to possess her. Still he clutched her, one hand anchored now in her honey-brown hair, making a delectable mess of her upswept style.
She straightened, her hands going self-consciously to her hair as her gaze slid to the last stragglers.
‘Leave it,’ Donato growled, his voice rough. ‘I prefer it that way.’
‘And that’s all that matters, is it?’ She tossed her head, pouting, and he smiled.
‘No, but it’s true. And surely I deserve some reward.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘Because you lied about my body to save my pride.’
‘You really have no idea, do you, cariño?’ She was a remarkable mix of savvy and innocent. ‘I spoke nothing but the truth.’
Her beautiful mouth sagged and he smiled wryly.
‘I deserve a reward because, despite my inclinations, I’m going to take you in to see the second half of the play. I’m not going to ravish you until we get home or at least to the car.’ He drew in a breath that wasn’t as steady as he’d like. ‘You’re going to show that witch and her ilk you don’t give a damn for her empty insults because you’re far superior to her in every way. Besides, you’ve got the most powerful, wealthy, scary man in Sydney wrapped around your little finger.’
‘Donato?’ She blinked and her mouth wobbled. ‘Don’t be kind to me. You don’t need to pretend.’
The look on her face broke something Donato couldn’t even name. He found himself hauling her in, kissing her, hard and thoroughly, on that ripe mouth till he felt her turn pliant. Then he made himself pull back, telling himself restraint was good for the soul.
‘Our situation isn’t simple, Ella.’ Not for the first time he wished they’d met under different circumstances. ‘But this is real. You’re the woman I want.’ He dragged in another breath and straightened his jacket, pretending the stark truth of those words didn’t make his heart drum faster. ‘Now come in before I change my mind and take you to the nearest bed.’
For a moment she said nothing, just stared, her head tilted to one side as the half-time bells fell silent.
Finally she slipped her arm through his. Donato was surprised at the rush of unfamiliar feeling that simple gesture evoked.
‘You’re wrong, you know,’ she murmured as they entered the theatre side by side. ‘You might be powerful but you’re not really scary. Not when you can be so nice.’
Donato almost stumbled. Nice! If only she knew.
* * *
‘You’re sure you’re okay, Ella? I know Dad when he wants something. I’ve never seen him so worked up as that last day I was in Sydney.’
Over the long-distance connection Ella heard the shudder in her sister’s voice. Despite Fuzz’s privileged position as their father’s favourite, she’d suffered too, living with Reg Sanderson. They all had. But it was something the three siblings had learned to keep to themselves. Put on a public face and hide what you feel.
Ella looked across Donato’s beautiful garden to the dark waters of the Pacific.
‘He’s not bothering me now.’ Donato had seen to that and, despite her concerns about this sham engagement, it was wonderful not to have to deal with her father.
‘You need to be careful. Dad’s desperate. He couldn’t be persuaded, and you know I can usually bring him around eventually.’
Ella had always envied Fuzz that ability. Ella had never been able to satisfy or soothe him.
‘He was so set on marriage! I couldn’t marry some stranger now I have Matthew.’
‘You’re really in love, then?’ Even now, the idea of her sister committed to one man took some getting used to.
Fuzz laughed. Not her usual light laugh. This was husky and somehow more real. ‘I am. Matthew’s wonderful, so capable and practical. When there’s a problem he doesn’t shout, he just fixes it. He’s kind and tender and...caring. And he thinks I’ve got talent, Ella. Real talent!’
‘Of course you have. We all know that. You’re a natural with colour and design.’
There was silence on the line. It lasted so long Ella wondered if the connection had dropped out. ‘I should have stuck to that design course years ago, shouldn’t I? Instead of taking off to the Caribbean for a couple of months.’
Ella shifted the phone, frowning. She’d never heard her sister regretful.