Blackmailed by the Italian Billionaire

Chapter Ten



He was jealous.

It had taken him a while to recognize the problem; jealousy was not an emotion that had played any part in his life up to now. Even two days later, he still couldn’t believe it. But when he’d seen Lia in Pete’s arms, he’d been filled with a primitive urge to rip the man away from her, toss him down the stairs, and lock Lia in her room where he could keep her to himself.

Of course, he hadn’t, but the fact that it had even occurred to him was very strange. In fact, his whole life seemed to have taken on a surreal quality since he’d met Lia.

He sliced through the water in the pool trying to dull the ache of frustration that was his constant companion these days. It didn’t work, and he finally gave up, hauled himself out of the water, blotted himself dry, and pulled on a pair of drawstring pants and a shirt.

He knew she found him attractive—he could feel her eyes on him whenever they were in the same room—but he’d decided to go slow. He wanted her to come to him of her own free will. No way was she going to accuse him of seducing her a second time. He was beginning to believe she was telling the truth about her father. Or maybe it was more that he wanted her to be telling the truth. He wished she were someone else, and he could forget Jimmy Brent ever existed.

Of course, that was impossible. Luc had to let this play out. He owed it to his own father and to all the other men and women whose lives Jimmy had destroyed over the years. And who knew what the man was up to even now—he was hardly the type to reform.

He found himself hoping that Jimmy Brent would remain absent. Lia had claimed she loved her father, and while he didn’t actually believe that, he doubted that she would forgive him for sending her father to prison. The outcome and its potential aftermath were killing him. Losing Lia was a very real possibility.

Luc paused at the top of the spiral staircase. Below, Lia sat cross-legged on the sofa talking to her brother on the phone. She talked to him every day.

“I’ll ask him,” she said.

Glancing up as he padded barefoot down the stairs, her eyes fixed on his bare chest where the shirt hung open. She licked her lips and heat coiled in his belly.

She looked away. “I know he promised, Mike, but he’s a busy man.”

Luc sank down onto the sofa opposite her, resting his bare feet on the coffee table, his head against the back. Murphy had followed him down, and now the cat jumped up beside him. Luc stroked the silky fur while he waited for Lia to finish the call, letting the soft lilt of her voice wash over him.

He’d only been in love once in his life, at eighteen. He’d never been naïve, even back then, but he had still at least believed in love. Serena had been blond, blue-eyed and beautiful, and when his life had fallen apart, when he needed her the most, she’d dumped him.

He’d been locked up like an animal, and each day, he’d waited for her to visit, sure that she would arrive; after all, she’d told him she loved him. How could she even think he was capable of the crimes he’d been accused of? How many days and lonely nights had it taken before he’d finally accepted that she wasn’t coming? He remembered clearly the overwhelming bleakness when he’d realized she’d abandoned him—that she believed the lies about him. Or at least that she had doubted him enough that she hadn’t wanted to risk the censure of her friends and family by sticking by him. So much for love.

He ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t believe he was thinking of Serena after all this time, or about love. What the hell had gotten in to him?

“You shouldn’t make promises you don’t intend to keep.”

Lia spoke, breaking into his memories. She’d finished her phone call and was regarding him as though he were something unpleasant. What had he done now?

“Me?”

“You promised you would take Mike for a ride in your Ferrari.”

“And what makes you think I don’t intend to keep my promise?”

“Do you?”

Why did it piss him off that she should sound so incredulous? Did she think he was incapable of nice gestures? Hell, he had a cat. Of course he was nice. “I have some things I need to do this morning, but we can go over there this afternoon.”

“We?”

He smiled. “Don’t you want to come for a ride in my Ferrari, Lia?”





Lia knew he was teasing her, but she couldn’t deny the warmth that flushed her skin at his husky words. They promised all sorts of delights.

It had been a strange couple of days. Luc was back to being Mr. Nice Guy. Charming even. And she really wished he wouldn’t. How was she supposed to keep her distance?

Now sprawled on the sofa, long legs stretched out, he just about took her breath away. His white linen shirt was open, framing the golden skin of his chest. The black pants lay low on his hips so she could clearly see the ridged muscles of his flat stomach, and her fingers itched with the need to reach out and stroke him. She sat on her hands.

“Does that line normally work for you?” she asked.

He grinned. “Oh, yeah. You have no idea.”

Lia could well believe it. It would probably have worked if he drove a Mini, never mind a Ferrari. She studied him, her head tilted to one side. “Hmm. Well, I suppose it would depend on where you were taking me.” He opened his mouth to answer, and she interrupted before he could speak. “I have to warn you, if you say ‘heaven and back’ I might just heave.”

He laughed. “You think I couldn’t take you to heaven?”

Oh, she knew he could. He already had. And she had no immediate plans to make a return journey with him.

“I’ll call Mike,” she said. “Tell him we’ll be over this afternoon.”

“Spoilsport.”





It was a perfect summer day, and Lia felt her spirits lift as the car sped out of London. Luc was an excellent driver, keeping within the speed limits, and soon they’d left the city behind and were driving through open country.

Lia studied his sure grip on the steering wheel—he had beautiful hands, with long elegant fingers. Clever fingers, and a wave of heat washed through her at the memory of how those fingers had felt, on her, in her.

She squirmed in her seat, and he cast her a quick sideways glance. Time to get her mind onto other things. “So, this party next week—is it something special? Your birthday, maybe?”

“No, not my birthday.”

“How old are you anyway?”

“Twenty-nine.”

“I thought you were older.” If she’d had to guess, she would have said somewhere in his mid-thirties, apart from those rare smiles when he looked younger. “So if it’s not your birthday, what are we celebrating?”

“It’s a charity event.”

“That’s it? You know, getting information out of you is like pulling teeth.”

He flashed her a smile. “Okay. It’s to raise money for a charity I set up. It helps street kids.”

“Street kids?”

“Young people who, for whatever reasons, have slipped through the system. They end up living rough on the streets. Some of them will do anything for food, shelter, maybe just to belong somewhere, and most end up on the wrong side of the law. We’re trying to offer them alternatives, but they don’t trust the authorities. That’s where people like Harley come in—the kids know him, respect him.”

“And he’s willing to help.”

“Yeah, Harley’s been there. He knows what it’s like.”

She fell silent as she considered the information. Luc was such a complex mixture. How was she supposed to reconcile this—the charity stuff, taking Mike for a drive—with the monster he was supposed to be?

As they drew up in front of the house, Lia rested a hand on his arm. “Don’t mention my father to Mike.”

A startled expression crossed his face. “I hadn’t intended to. What does he know about Jimmy?”

“Not a lot. Just that he left a long time ago.” She thought for a moment. “Maybe more. I don’t know how much the village children have said, but it’s common knowledge what our father was and Mike never asks questions about him.”

“Maybe you should talk to him then. If he’s hearing stuff anyway.”

Lia opened her mouth to answer, but clamped her lips shut as the front door opened and Mike hurled himself down the stone steps.

“I’ll sit in the back,” Lia said and scrambled over the seat.

Luc leaned across and opened the passenger door. “Hi, Mike.” He helped him fasten the seat belt. “So, this is your trip—where do you want to go?”

“The park,” Mike said promptly.

Lia smiled; she could have predicted that one—it was Mike’s favorite place. “It’s a couple of miles away,” she said. “I’ll give you directions.”

She sat back in her seat and listened to Mike’s constant chatter interspersed with Luc’s occasional answer. It was wonderful to see Mike so animated. He needed a man in his life—poor boy had grown up surrounded by women, but Luc was hardly a father figure. Maybe, when this was all over, she should find herself a nice steady man and settle down. Somehow, she couldn’t see it happening.

For once, Mike didn’t want to get out of the car at the park, so they left him sitting in the driver’s seat, small hands gripped on the steering wheel. Lia got out to stretch her legs and then stood under the shade of an oak tree, keeping an eye on the car, while Luc went to get ice creams. The place smelled of sunshine and freshly cut grass, and a sense of peace stole over her. She watched as Luc strolled over, moving with an easy grace of a thoroughbred racehorse, lean and long-legged. He handed Mike a cone through the window and came to stand beside her.

“You’re not worried about getting ice cream all over your car?” she asked

“No.” He handed her the second cone.

“You not having one?”

“I’ll share yours.”

“I might want it all myself.” She licked the cold ice cream, peering up at him from under her lashes. He was watching her intently, and she swirled her tongue over the top, then sucked the sweetness into her mouth. She was teasing him, but somehow it felt safe out here, with Mike only feet away.

He stepped up close, pushed her gently back against the tree, and she didn’t feel so safe anymore. Then he leaned in and swiped his tongue across her lips.

“Later,” he whispered against her mouth, and she wasn’t sure whether it was a threat or a promise.





Back at the house, Lia sat on the steps and watched as Luc showed Mike the engine and explained how it worked. They were far enough away that the murmured words washed over her. Resting her chin on her hand, she relaxed in the afternoon sunshine, only glancing away as Sally came out of the house and sat down beside her. “You okay?” Sally asked.

“I guess.”

“I was worried about you. This”—she nodded in Luc’s direction—“all seemed too sudden. But he seems like a nice guy.”

Lia considered him for a moment. He was laughing at something Mike had said, and he looked utterly gorgeous. But nice people didn’t use blackmail or keep secrets.

“No, he’s not nice.”

At that moment, he leaned over the hood to point at something, the denim of his jeans stretching tight over his butt.

“Well, he’s got a nice ass,” Sally said.

Lia let out a shocked laugh. “Sally!”

“What? I’m not allowed to recognize a nice ass when I see one?” She leered. “I’m betting it’s not the only nice bit of him.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes. “Seriously, though,” Sally said, “I’m not sure what this is about, but if it’s not working, come home.”

Lia sighed. “It’s not that easy.”

But maybe it was. Did she really still believe Luc would go through with his blackmail threats? She could walk away. Take her chances. Trust him. Never see him again.

No, she wasn’t quite ready for that yet.





Lia watched him out of the corner of her eye as he threw the car keys onto the table by the door. She’d seen a whole new side to him today. Mike had loved the trip and seeing him happy made it worthwhile.

“Thank you,” she said. “You were good with him.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“You have?”

“I have a brother the same age as Mike.”

“No way.”

“Well, a half-brother and two sisters. My mother went back to Italy after my father died. She married an Italian. They live in Rome, but I spend as much time as I can with them.”

“I never imagined you with a family.”

“What, you think I materialized fully formed out of a puff of brimstone?”

“Something like that, though I suppose I knew you had a mother.” She frowned. She didn’t want to see him as human, with brothers and sisters.

He walked past her into the sitting room.

Lia loitered in the doorway. Common sense told her she should head straight to her room, but she didn’t want to. She didn’t know what she wanted. Or maybe it was more truthful to say she wasn’t willing to admit what she wanted.

How could she desire him when he still held those pictures over her head? When she knew that at any time, he could turn on her—post them for all to see and ruin her image. Those pictures would make things very difficult, especially with the sponsorship deal hovering on the brink of being signed. She was coming up to a crucial time in her career—she couldn’t afford any distractions. And what a distraction he was becoming!

Mike wouldn’t be happy when she and Luc went their separate ways. Her brother had managed to drag a promise of a repeat trip out of Luc, and she hadn’t had the heart to tell him that the relationship was temporary, that with luck, in the not-too-distant future, this would all be somehow resolved, and she and Luc would part ways forever.

Why did that thought not make her happy?

Still, she couldn’t make herself leave. Instead, she stepped into the room and looked out the window, her whole body tense, as though it knew something was about to happen.

Luc came up behind her, so close she could feel the heat from his body. A deep, burning craving awoke inside her. Her breasts felt heavy and swollen, and a pulse throbbed between her thighs. When his hands came to rest on her shoulders, she almost jumped. His fingers kneaded her tense muscles, then he lowered his head and his open lips brushed the side of her neck. Every nerve ending quivered as he licked the skin of her throat, then nipped the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder. His hands glided from her shoulders to her rib cage and she looked down.

As she watched, he undid the buttons of her shirt and spread the sides to reveal the swell of her slight breasts in the white bra, her nipples clearly visible, pushing against the lace. One hand splayed against her belly, the other brushed across one swollen peak, and she felt it like an arrow at the very core of her body.

Cupping her breast in his large hand, he squeezed. Lia rested back against him and let the amazing sensations roll through her body, feeling the hardness of his erection nudging at her bottom. She pushed back against him, and he groaned into her hair. The hand on her stomach slid down. He flicked open the button on her jeans and pushed inside, slipping his fingers beneath her panties. She held her breath, not daring to move in case he stopped.

He dipped inside her, then back up to stroke the swollen little bud between her thighs, pressing upward.

“Oh God.” The words were torn from her. The sensations were almost too much.

“Come to bed with me, Lia,” he whispered in her ear.

When she didn’t answer, he removed his hand, turned her around in his arms, and searched her face.

“You want me inside you,” he said. “Give in, give us both what we want.” As if to persuade her, he lowered his mouth. She’d expected a forceful kiss; instead she felt the lightest brush of his lips on hers. He kissed the curve of her chin, slid his tongue along her lower lip, sucked it into his mouth, and nibbled her with his teeth. No way could she move as his big hands came up to frame her face, his thumb stroking her cheeks. He kissed her full-on, slanting his mouth over hers in a hot scorching caress full of promised passion. His tongue parted her lips, thrusting into her, filling her with the taste of him, and hot wetness flooded between her thighs.

She clenched her fingers in the soft material of his shirt, but he took her hand, guiding it down his body, pressing her palm against the hardness of his erection where it pushed insistently against the fly of his jeans. Her fingers tightened instinctively, and he groaned then whispered against her lips.

“I want to make love to you, Lia. But this time, it has to be your choice, your decision. Forget your father, forget everything except the two of us.”

But at the mention of her father, the sensual spell shattered, and she went still. What he wanted was her total capitulation, but how could she give him that when he offered nothing of himself in return? She pulled out of his arms and stepped back.

“Give me those pictures, and I’ll think about it.”





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