2

“Blair.”

“I’ve said all I have to say, Draco,” she sighed, as she unlocked the driver’s door and slid in behind the wheel.

Draco stopped her as she tried to swing her door shut.

“Ah yes, but you haven’t listened yet to what I have to say.” “To be frank, I’m really not interested in what you have to say.”

She tried to wrestle the door closed, and gave up with an angry huff of air when that proved impossible. She crossed her arms defensively over her stomach and stared fixedly out the windshield.

“What’s the matter, Draco, can’t you tolerate someone turning you down?

Granted, I’m sure it probably hasn’t happened often in your lifetime, but surely you can get used to it just this once,” she snapped.

He smiled in response to her rancor. She sounded like a spitting kitten all in a temper.

“I just want to talk. You left so suddenly. We never had a chance to say good- bye properly.”

Draco noticed that that elicited a response. Through the thin cotton of her blouse he saw the instant her nipples peaked against the sheer fabric of her bra. A bra he knew she wore more as a concession to her position at work than out of necessity. He loved her small, high breasts. Loved the way he could elicit a screaming response from her just by nipping ever so gently at their rose-pink tips. He’d never known a woman so sensitive in that area. Never enjoyed one as much as he had Blair. And he wanted to do it all again. And again.

Blair looked up, catching his gaze that was firmly riveted on her breasts. “Oh, for goodness’ sake.” She reached forward to twist her keys in the

ignition. “We’ve said all we have to say. Or at least I have. Like I said before,

you were a holiday fling. Good in bed and good for my ego. But that’s it. What we had is finished. Now please, let go of my car door before I have to call

security.”

“Now that’s where I disagree, delizia, we are far from finished. I will let you go now, but rest assured, Blair, I will see you again and we will finish this conversation properly.”

He stood back from the car and watched as she slammed the door shut without saying another word. She crashed the car into gear, and he winced at the ancient motor’s protest as she floored the accelerator and spun up a rooster tail of gravel from beneath her tires.

He watched as she drove away, a grim smile of satisfaction on his face, now that the registration details of her vehicle were firmly emblazoned in his mind. She might think she’d gotten away. But his reach far exceeded his grasp and he’d find her, and have her in his bed again. Soon.

Movement over by the car park caught his attention. His best friends—Brent Colby and Adam Palmer—stood by the Moto Guzzi bikes he’d arranged to have exported to New Zealand so they could enjoy a taste of their misspent youth whenever they managed to all be in the country at the same time. They’d come a long way from the teenage maniacs who’d spent the night of their graduation dinner demon riding on the back roads near their prestigious private school, but there was nothing that beat the sensation of mastering the power of the motorbike and flying along the road.

Brent was a self-made millionaire, and if Draco hadn’t already loved and respected him as much as he did, Brent would have earned that respect twice over when he’d made and then lost his fortune, only to rebuild it twenty times stronger than before. Brent’s cousin, Adam, came from different stock. New Zealand old money, which, although it didn’t go back as far as the Sandrelli bloodlines, could hardly be sneered at. The Palmer family was a mover and shaker in New Zealand industry, with interests spread far and wide across the globe.

Thinking about the Sandrelli bloodlines brought solemn awareness, settling like a dark cloak around his shoulders. The Sandrellis ended, or continued, with Draco, as his ailing father had pointed out to him on more than one recent occasion. The responsibility to his family history sat firmly and heavily on his

shoulders alone. Which made prospects with Blair all the more interesting—if he could only get her to agree to see him again.

He jogged over to meet his friends. It was time to head back to Brent’s for drinks and a few hands of cards, and on the ride back to Auckland, Draco could formulate his plan.

Blair might think she’d gotten away from him, but all she’d done was entice him all the more. Let her think she had the upper hand for now, but he knew she was no more capable of resisting him than he was of walking away from her. A man didn’t get this lucky twice in his life and walk away.

The problem was, would he be able to bring his father his heart’s desire before it was too late? His last stroke had been mild, but the doctors had warned that he could suffer a debilitating or fatal stroke at any time.

Draco would just have to make certain he wasn’t too late. Sandrellis had dominated the countryside around the palazzo for centuries. And even though the mantle of succession had fallen by default onto his shoulders with the death of his brother ten years ago, he would not be the one who saw to their end. His union with Blair Carson would provide the grandchildren demanded by his parents—and if their incendiary attraction was anything to go by, it would be no hardship to do so.

Neither Brent nor Adam spoke as he came to a halt beside his motorbike, but the curiosity on their faces spoke volumes.

“Don’t even ask,” he warned as he reached for his glossy black helmet and jammed it onto his head, flipping the dark visor down over his face.

He’d tell them about Blair eventually. When he had her firmly where he wanted her.