A Reputation to Uphold (21 page)

Only then did she notice. ‘Black sand.’ She gave a little huff. Of course it was. What else would Dante Vitale’s caves be lined with but volcanic sand?

‘Wait here,’ he said, veering around a corner, disappearing from view.

Within seconds her eyes were darting around the floor for a gold scrap and,
Thank you, God
, she whipped the sodden bottoms up her legs, cringing at the gritty chafe, just in time to see Dante reappear—sports duffel in hand—both owner and bag drenched.

Despite the cold seeping into her feet, she felt her lips twitch. ‘Bottom of the lake, huh?’

He gave her one of those half bad-boy smiles that threatened the already precarious state of her knees as he unscrewed the cap of a water bottle and passed it to her.

Eva relished the cool liquid pouring down her tight throat.

‘I believe I promised you heaven on earth,’ he said, pointing to a gap in the rock before he placed the clear rim of his bottle on his lower lip...

The sight of his smooth throat convulsing acted like another blast of heat and Eva yanked the elastic hairband from her wrist, lifted the hair stuck to her nape and piled it on top of her head in a messy knot. With a quick fix of the band, she turned back to see him staring at her. Oddly.

‘What?’

Brushing the back of his hand over his wet mouth, he shook his head. ‘Your hair like that...reminds me of when I first saw you.’

Eva gave him a kick of her brow. Typical man. His memory was way off.

‘My hair was down that day. At the tennis courts at home. You were playing with Finn and...’ Eva and her friends had been glued. Mesmerised by all that yummy darkness and athletic grace. And now she’d just told him that the memory was imprinted on her brain!

Dante crossed his arms over his wide chest, shoulders bunching, pecs bulging. ‘That wasn’t the first time I saw you.’

Eva blinked. He had his own memory imprint? ‘It wasn’t?’

‘No,’ he said simply, then nodded in the general direction of the sliver. ‘Go ahead,
tesoro
. Ladies first.’

Gaze flicking from the gap back to him, she questioned the intelligence of asking him more. Would have if he hadn’t trailed his fingers down to the small of her back, her flesh quivering under the deft stroke, and gave her a little push.

Angled sideways, she breathed in and slithered through the gap, almost collapsing with relief when she made it to a wider opening, the blinding light making her recoil with a deep squint.

Anticipation was a
thump thump
of her heart, feet tentative to eke out the suspense as she gingerly made her way to the jagged archway. Sight slowly adjusting, the first sound that whispered through her mind was one of water trickling, pooling. The second was the chirp and song of a small bird, waning with the flutter of tiny wings. And the third was the echo of leaves—not thin and crisp like an autumn rustle but saturated with dewy flesh from the heights of summer.

Coarse grainy sand gave way to the tickle of scented grass and she shielded the sun’s rays with one hand...and gasped, warm air snatching at her throat. ‘
Oh
, Dante.’

As if God had used a giant spoon and scooped a hole from the rock, they were stood at the base, surrounded by breathtaking beauty.

Waterfalls cascading, gushing into an azure lake. Trees in lush bloom, weeping exotic fruits and trailing pink and cerise flowers in elongated spirals to kiss the lush bed beneath. A butterfly fluttered past her face with wings of orange and lilac and settled on the rich green meadow smothered in tiny white flowers.

‘It...it’s like
Fantasia
. I didn’t think places like this even existed.’ The divine beauty was another physical blow and, without knowing how or why, tears stung the backs of her eyes. She had to turn her face from his view and blink rapidly to dissolve the mist.

‘Hey,’ he said, curving his hand around her jaw and tempting her back to meet thick dark lashes surrounding eyes that glittered. ‘Do not hide your emotions from me. If it makes you feel better, I was also overwhelmed when I discovered it for myself.’

‘Have you brought...?’ She stopped herself in the nick of time, suddenly afraid he’d seduced a multitude of women here.

‘Only you.’ He brushed down her nose with the back of his index finger, then strode over to a large tree, heavy with fruit and flora. Reaching up, he plucked a large white flower from a cluster of dark purple oval fruit.

‘Is that passion fruit?’ she asked whilst
Only you
rang in her ears.

‘A loose translation would be tryst-fruit. Very similar in taste and texture, but immensely potent,’ he said, walking back towards her, his shorts clinging to his perfectly buff body as he twirled the flower stem between his thumb and index finger.

‘Like a...an aphrodisiac?’ No way was she eating that stuff. Dante was potent enough and she could barely think straight as it was.

‘
Sì
.’

As he drew near, the sun glinted and shimmered off the long silky tropical petals. ‘It looks like an orchid.’

‘I know you do not like flowers,’ he said.

‘Who said I didn’t like—?’ She winced inwardly, remembering the tongue-lashing she gave him last week. ‘Oh, well, I was angry with you. Asking your secretary to fill my boutique is totally different to...to...’ Trailing off, she stared into his eyes as he slid the fine stalk down her cleavage, snug behind her sash, the tiny scratch making her breath hitch.

‘To what,
cara mia
?’ he murmured, his fingertips grazing across the low scooped edge of her bikini, teasing. A little higher to her bare breast. Tempting.

Her eyelashes grew heavy as he cupped her with a gentle touch. Then his head dipped to the heavy aching flesh as he peeled back the gold fabric and...
oh
, he kissed her small scar. Once. Twice. Softly. Devout.

Paradise vanished behind her eyelids and her hand trembled with the need to reach up, push him into her, hold him close. And her heart...her heart gushed, overflowed.

‘Different to...you choosing,’ she whispered on a fluttering breath, chest heaving, ‘a flower.’ As a flock of butterflies began to sweep and swerve into her stomach.
Careful, Eva, you’ve been here before. Nothing is what it seems.

Yet, when he lifted his head and caught her eyes, he was going to tell her something. She could virtually see his internal struggle.
Tell me, tell me. Give me something more than vague signs. Give me words. Actual words. That I can hear. That I can believe. Give me truth. Please.

Backing up a pace, he flexed his shoulders, his posture making it clear she was pleading for the impossible, and her stomach plunged to the grass.

‘This
Fantasia
, as you call it,’ he said, the educated-at-Cambridge formality back in line as he set stride towards the lake, ‘is one of the reasons I bought the island. Untouched, its innocence, purity called to me on some level.’ His footsteps slowed and he tilted his head until she was awarded with his uber-masculine profile. ‘I, the darkest, coldest of men, some say the most ruthless on earth, own such a place.’ Swivelling with the predatory grace of a sleek black panther, he shot her with a killer look. ‘Amusing, don’t you think?’

Eva blinked. Wondering if this was some kind of trick question. Yet, from the fierce expression on his face, her opinion mattered to him.

‘No, I think it’s wonderful.’ It spoke of his beating heart. Although, in all fairness, she would never have expected Dante to own a place so hopeful, romantic. The flip side to his cynicism, his darkness. It was bewildering. Enchanting. ‘Whoever said you are cold has never met you, Dante.’ Yes, he was ruthless and controlling, but cold? No. He wasn’t cold. He was white-hot heat.

‘I guarantee this woman knew me very well,
cara
.’

Eva crushed her lips together. ‘Oh. Your ex-wife.’

His brow nipped in a split second of confusion as if she had it wrong, but then he shrugged nonchalantly.

Curling her fingers, she dug her nails into her palm. She didn’t like thinking about his marriage. It made her a little jealous. Okay, insanely jealous.

Which was just ridiculous considering she had a good idea of what Natalia’s life would have been like. An arid wasteland of craving for this man’s love and affection.

What had he said?
Cold.

‘Why did you marry her?’

‘My father desired the match. A joining of two old Italian families. One I had resisted for a long time.’ The way he looked at her right then—haunted, possessive—sent a shiver scuttling over the back of her thighs. ‘In hindsight, it was doomed from the start.’

‘It sounds...cold.’

‘Arctic,
cara
,’ he said, hard, irascible.
Cold.
Then
slam
, the shutters fell down over his face. Conversation over.

Eva tried for a swallow and tugged the orchid from her cleavage, but as she looked into the pink folds shrouding the heart she realised she wasn’t willing to part with it. Just yet.

Dante and her were anything but cold, right?

Right.

Threading the flower through the knot in her hair, she took a tentative step towards him as he crouched down at the water’s edge and dipped his hand into the depths as if testing the temperature.

‘The people from the mainland call it Dream Falls,’ he said, voice thick and edged with cynicism. ‘They say if you make a wish in the waters, your dream will come true.’

‘Do you believe that?’

‘It does not matter what I believe. But in my experience dreams are born from hard work and determination.’

Eva’s feet froze a few paces away as she closed her eyes and sighed. ‘Vitale. Taking Vitale to stratospheric heights. That’s why you work night and day.’ It was all about Vitale. Every move he made. It was like an addiction. An obsession. Ruling his every waking thought.

‘
Sì
.’

‘Why? Money? Power? Don’t you have enough of both?’

‘I care nothing for wealth.’ He fingered his damp hair until it spiked and flicked in its usual effortless sexy mess and stared across the rippling waters. ‘It is a question of self-worth. Pride. You take great pride in being successful at your work, do you not?’

‘Yes, of course. But...you’re one of the most successful men in the world and still you keep going. What are you trying to prove to yourself?’ While Eva loved her job, she knew half of what drove her was the need to make her mother proud. ‘Or does it have more to do with your father?’

The muscles in his shoulders visibly tensed, his jaw locking with an audible click. And she could feel the pain emanating from him in a pulsating wave. ‘There is no pleasing such a man,
cara
. I do it for myself.’

He was either lying to himself or her. Against his better judgement, he’d even married Natalia to please him.

No thought, no hesitation, she walked to the edge and sat upon the grassy lip, allowing her legs to plunge into the clear liquid.

Dante swung down to sit beside her, his tight muscular thigh dusted with dark hair mere inches away from her soft milky skin. She waited a beat, choosing her words carefully, knowing she trod in dark, dangerous depths. ‘I guess you went to live with him when your mother died.’

A small jerk of his head was her only reply and she played with the grass, tearing a few blades from the root.
Easy, Eva.

Sprinkling the grass into the water, she watched it float, drift on the slight breeze. Thinking of a perfectly natural question. ‘When will I get to meet him? After all, one day he might be a grandfather.’

Dante’s head shot up, eyes, fierce and deadly, careening into hers, his skin taut where he leashed the beast within. ‘Hear this, Eva. I do not want my child
anywhere
near him. Nor you.
Capisci
?’

And with that brutal howling declaration came not only a plunge of unease but also the memory of his ferocious protective streak when they spoke of their child.

I will be there for our child... I am strong and powerful enough to shield him from every storm.

Licking her dry lips, she swallowed hard. ‘Was he...brutal?’

‘Only with his tongue,
cara
,’ he said, his voice hard enough to smash glass. ‘Although, in truth, at times, I would’ve preferred a fist.’

Crushing her lips, she closed her eyes momentarily. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop her imagination firing a tirade of nasty insults and a chill pervaded her bones.

‘Do you still see him on Vitale business?’

‘
Sì
. But he no longer controls my world. I control his. The power is mine. Vitale was drowning when I took over and now it is also
mine
. And always will be.’

Of course he wanted control. After a life dictated by others, who wouldn’t?

The silence stretched, her patience with it, until she reached up, smoothed his jaw, coaxing with a gentle hand. When their eyes met, her lips parted on an indrawn breath.

Such frustration. Such pain. God, what kind of childhood must he have had?

Fifteen years old and he’d buried his volatile mother, only to be faced with a monster specialising in mental anguish. Thrust into a heartless world—a world he’d been denied. To live with total strangers. A continual fight for his position, for the worth and self-respect his father had denied him. Was it any wonder he was so closed off from his emotions? She fancied they were buried so deep he would explode with one rattle of the key. Often times she could feel his body vibrating with power, as if they all churned inside him, threatening to burst free.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out how he controlled them all. Anger. It was his first defence.

Gently, she brushed a damp lock of hair from his sun-kissed brow. ‘Ah, Dante. Finally, I see you,’ she said, using the exact same words he’d said to her only yesterday.

For she knew the desperation, the need to prove her worth, to prove to the world she was more than just a daughter of famous parents. More than Diva, the party girl who had drifted astray. Hadn’t she spent the last week trying to prove herself to him?