levels over grand terraced blocks to blend into the natural cove. The contrast of the harsh, natural rock strata and the crisp lines of art deco architecture painted a picture that almost made her eyes sting. This had to be one of the most desirable properties in the world.
“Do you like it?” Daniel drove slickly into a gravel semi-circle at the base of the enormous cliff upon which the house was built, and leapt out of the car to open the passenger door.
Rianna craned her neck upwards, squinting at the temple-like property that was now a dark silhouette against the backdrop of a brilliant Ligurian sun. She felt as insignificant as an ant, standing meekly at the foot of something quite astonishing, still touching the hot metal of one of the most expensive cars on the road.
“Come,” Daniel said, gesturing for her to follow. “There’s only one way in. It’s very secure.”
Set in a natural alcove of the rock was a discreet lift, a door of black steel with a very small keypad, a CCTV camera and no other visible means of entry. If Rianna wasn’t so excited by it all, she’d probably be feeling scared. She’d seen this sort of thing in films with very close-knit Italian business associates and dark deals in shadowy corners.
Rianna slapped herself down immediately for getting carried away. Talk about an imagination! Daniel wasn’t the type to indulge in dead horse heads or similar acts of fiction and fantasy. That was far too visceral and messy for those exquisite hands of his, the same hands she watched punch in a seven-digit security code. God, she hoped she didn’t need to get out of this place in a hurry. Rianna pressed her hand to the inside pocket of her jacket to check her mobile was there, but deep in her heart, she knew she was in no particular hurry to leave.
Her gaze flickered around the lift interior. Steel, marble and mirrors. Lots of glass reflecting at least four different views of Daniel. Rianna swallowed and looked at the ceiling for some sort of reprise. She was met with the reflection of her own huge, anxious eyes and the dark sheen of Daniel’s head, which suddenly lifted and connected with her own nervous stare.
“It’s OK,” he drawled lazily. “I’m not going to try it on in here.”
Chapter Six
Daniel’s smile, reflected in the mirrored ceiling, held more than a hint of devilment. He was in control of the situation while she was virtually helpless and rapidly getting out of her depth. She suddenly had the awful feeling he could sense her vulnerability and like a hungry wolf, smell her fear. He must also know how much she wanted him.
Rianna squeezed her eyes shut. “No, of course you’re not,” she muttered, feeling herself weaken as his arm snaked easily across her shoulders. “That would be quite ridiculous. And unprofessional.”
Daniel’s chest vibrated with amusement and he gently stroked the bare area of skin under her earlobe with his fingertips. “Don’t be nervous, gattina . You have nothing to worry about. You’ve only seen my harsh side, the image I want the world to see. I can be who I want to be here, in my home, my sanctuary.”
Was this her CEO speaking to her like this? Or was it just Daniel Bracchi, the man, stroking her skin and sending shivers up and down her spine with every soft word? She couldn’t be sure, however appealing it would be to discover a warm, demonstrative man under the granite veneer he had worn in Wales.
Whatever the case, she couldn’t risk making a fool of herself with him. His arm draped around her, sending bolts of wildfire electricity through her body, was just the behaviour of a normal Italian male; friendly, physical, meaningless. It was up to her to snap out of it and not allow the proximity of his body to send her into a whirl of erotic fantasy and intoxication again. He could be in his eighties and he’d still behave that way. It was only in the UK that everyone was so uptight about physical contact. She shouldn’t