No charm for Jenny Kent. He was knowingly using his mega-strong physical attraction to get what he wanted from her. He’d probably been doing that with women all his life, given the male assets he’d been born with. Did she really want to fall victim to a cynical sexual play?
No.
It would be totally stupid of her.
Getting more deeply involved with Dante Rossini would only muddy what was already dangerous waters. She had to keep a clear head, not get distracted from what she had to do to earn her freedom.
‘Got them,’ Anya trilled, as though it had been a triumphant feat of discovery.
It struck a false note in the loaded silence.
Jenny turned to acknowledge her presence but didn’t get a glance from the other woman. Anya’s gaze was concentrated on Dante, who had remained by the opened bedroom door, pointedly waiting for her to depart.
‘Then there’s nothing to stop you from speeding on your way,’ he drawled, dark eyes glittering impatience.
She flounced over to him, pausing to tilt up her beautiful face, pout her sexy mouth and say, ‘I did apologise for the intrusion.’
‘Curiosity killed the cat, Anya.’ It was a cold indictment of her behaviour.
‘I just wanted…’
‘You’ve got what you came for. Go!’
His stony face did not invite argument. She left. He closed the door. Jenny steeled herself to rebuff any continuance of the scene Anya had interrupted. Dante turned to face her, his dark gaze skating over her stiff stance, his mouth curling into a twist of irony at the defensive wall so firmly back in place.
‘Why don’t you follow her?’ Jenny flung at him. ‘I don’t need you to help me settle in here, and since you’re obviously feeling some frustration, I’m sure your girlfriend would welcome the chance to ease it for you.’
‘Ah, but I wouldn’t welcome her efforts.’
Her heart skipped at the change of tone from icy distaste to seductive sensuality. It raced into a gallop as he started strolling towards her, his eyes mocking her attempt to reject what had happened between them.
‘I don’t welcome yours,’ she stated vehemently. ‘Your Casanova mentality doesn’t appeal to me one bit.’
Her jeering contempt did not hold him back. He shrugged it off and kept on coming. ‘Casanova romps are not my style. I’d decided to end my relationship with Anya before I flew to Australia for you.’
‘She can’t know that or she wouldn’t be here.’
‘Anya only listens to what she wants. Apparently my suggestion that she move on to another man made her think she’d better work harder to keep me, and she seized the opportunity Lucia held out to her.’
‘Then let her work hard.’ Anything to keep herself safe from what he could do to her!
He shook his head. ‘I don’t want her anymore.’
His eyes told her very graphically that she was now the object of desire. Jenny was hopelessly torn between her own secret desire for him to want her and the certain knowledge he intended to use sex to keep her in line with him. He wanted abject surrender from her, not a relationship that carried caring with it. He had no reason to care for her, never would.
‘Don’t look at me like that!’ she cried. ‘I’ve just seen the type of woman who attracts you and I’m not it. If you think you can fool me, think again!’
Dante did pause to think again. The fierce antagonism flowing from her would only deepen if he physically forced the issue. Persuasion was now the tactic to use to get her back to where he wanted her. And he did want her. The desire still surging through him was stronger than any he’d felt in a long time. Anya’s sexual expertise was a tame thing compared to the powerhouse of passion he’d found in this woman.
He had to move Anya out of this villa, off Capri, get rid of that bone of contention before attempting another seduction, which would have to be carefully planned, given the level of resistance Anya’s intrusion had forged.
‘And get this straight,’ the little spitfire hurled at him. ‘I’ll be Isabella for your grandfather whenever he wants my company, but I don’t like Lucia and Anya and I’m not going to mix with them when he’s not there.’
‘Anya will be gone before lunch.’
‘Fine! Then you can lunch with your real cousin by yourself. Tell her I have a headache. Tell her I’m still suffering jetlag. Tell her anything you like to excuse me from having to put up with more stress, because I’m going to rest in this room all afternoon. By myself. Or I won’t answer to how I conduct myself with your grandfather over dinner tonight,’ she finished with threatening defiance.
‘Good idea!’ he approved, which instantly took the wind out of her battle sails. ‘I’ll have one of the maids bring you a tray of refreshments. Would you like headache pills, as well?’
She lifted a hand to push at her forehead. ‘Yes, I would. Thank you,’ she muttered, visibly sagging with relief at his response.
‘Lucia can be a trial, but it will be impossible to completely avoid her,’ he warned. ‘I’ll do my best to keep you apart. Okay?’
She nodded, looking too drained of energy to argue anymore.
‘I’ll leave you to rest.’
The deception had to be maintained at all costs, Dante reminded himself as he let himself out of the suite. It was probably reckless of him to pursue a sexual connection with his ‘cousin.’ In all honesty, he couldn’t pass off this move as a means of winning her willing co-operation. He wanted to experience all of her.
The way she challenged him stirred his highly competitive instincts, driving a need to strip her of her armour, take her so totally she would concede everything to him. But he had to be careful, too, not incur any suspicion of the connection he intended to have with her. Control was paramount in this situation. He’d almost lost it, back there.
He smiled.
It didn’t matter if he lost it behind closed doors.
CHAPTER NINE
HAD she made Dante think again?
Jenny stared at the closed door, not knowing if he’d decided that any further attempt at sexual domination was not a good idea, or if this was merely a reprieve. Her head was aching. She felt totally exhausted, her nerves frayed by an overload of tension. Whatever Dante intended, she was grateful he’d left her alone for a while, grateful not to have to be constantly thinking about what she had to say and do to remain safe in this place.
She dragged her gaze from the door and slowly swept it around the bedroom which was supposed to be her own private sanctuary. The fabrics used were mostly peaches and cream with touches of pale lime green. The furniture was white. Two armchairs and a coffee table holding a platter of fresh fruit were placed for the enjoyment of the view outside. A writing desk was graced by a beautiful arrangement of pastel carnations. A large plasma television set provided easy viewing from the bed which was king-size.