Home > Blackmailed by the Italian Billionaire(11)

Blackmailed by the Italian Billionaire(11)
Author: Nina Croft

She dropped her head to her knees. She had to stop thinking about this. It was only sex. Absolutely spectacular, mind-shattering sex, but still only sex. He was obviously very good at it, but then, he’d probably had plenty of practice. With his looks, he could have any woman he wanted. Except her. Not ever again anyway; and if she was frustrated, well then she could go shopping and buy herself a vibrator.

“Lia?”

She jumped and glanced up at the sound of a voice. Pete leaned over the stable door, a grin on his face, and Lia scrambled to her feet, brushing the straw from her back.

Pete opened the door and came in, patting the horse as he passed. “Are you hiding in here?”

She shook her head. “Not really, just thinking.” About vibrators!

“How’s the wrist?” he asked.

Lia held it up in front of her and wriggled her fingers. “Better.”

She’d fallen while training a couple of days ago. Pete had accused her of not concentrating, and he’d been right. Luckily, it was only a sprain, but the doctor had banned her from riding until her wrist healed, so she didn’t even have that to take her mind off things.

“Maybe you should take some time off,” Pete said. “You haven’t taken a holiday in years, and you’re not yourself at the moment.”

No, she wasn’t, and she knew exactly who to blame for that. “I’d rather keep busy.”

Pete was her boss and her trainer. He’d been a successful event rider himself when he was younger, though he’d told her he’d lacked the drive to make it big. Now he trained horses for other riders as well as training her. He was good; she would never have made it this far without him.

He stood in front of her, hands in his jeans pockets, a small smile playing across his familiar features. Lia had known him forever, but it occurred to her now, for the first time, what a good-looking man he was—tall, rugged, his blond hair tousled.

“I have some news,” he said. “Good news. But first, I want you to know that it isn’t charity.”

“What isn’t?”

“I want to buy the piece of land beside your house.” He put up a hand to forestall her comments. “Before you say anything, hear me out. You know I’ve wanted that land for ages. I even talked to your mother about it years ago, but I couldn’t raise the cash back then.” He paused and looked at her expectantly. “So what do you think?”

Lia frowned. “Are you sure?”

“I told you, it’s not charity,” he said. “Since you had that last big win, the business is doing great—everyone wants my horses. And I need the extra grazing. I’ve had a quick chat with some people and they’ve given me an idea of the value.”

He named a figure, and Lia closed her eyes. It wasn’t enough to pay off the mortgage, but it would solve her financial problems for the next few years. And Pete had talked about expanding the farm. They could stay at the house; they wouldn’t have to move.

A wave of relief flooded through her; she really could forget about finding her father. Forever. She need never give him another thought.

“And I should hear about the sponsorship deal any day now,” Pete said. “They’re being slow, but you’re just the clean-cut image they want. I think they’re going to go for it.”

“That’s wonderful.” And it was. The deal would change everything. So far, she’d stuck to competitions in the United Kingdom, but with the sponsorship money she could enter all the big international competitions as well.

Following Pete out of the stable, she stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Why are you so good to me?”

“It’s got nothing to do with being good. It’s straightforward business.”

“Of course it is.” She leaned across and kissed him on the cheek.

Pete smiled then glanced down the drive. “Looks like we’ve got customers.” He whistled softly. “Nice car.”

Lia followed his gaze. A black, low-slung, sex machine of a car had come to a halt across the yard. Unfortunately, the man who sat in the front was as instantly recognizable as his car. A sharp stab of excitement pierced her, followed closely by a tidal wave of shock. She had to force herself not to turn and run the other way.

Pete seemed not to notice her reaction. “I’ll have to leave you to deal with them—I have an appointment at the bank. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

Lia watched him walk away, wanting to cling to him. Instead, she turned and slipped back into the stable. Crouching behind the door, she peered out at the stable yard through a knot in the wood.

Crap! How’d he find her? What the hell was he doing here?

“Come on out, Lia.”

Lia straightened, her gaze flickering warily over his tall figure.

He was dressed more casually than when she first met him, this time in black jeans and a black linen shirt, open at the throat, the sleeves rolled up. The last time she’d seen him he’d been naked, sprawled on the bed. Asleep he’d appeared younger, the hard lines of his face smoothed out, a hint of vulnerability in the curve of his full lips. Lips that had given her such pleasure.

She’d had to walk away that night; she couldn’t stay. Luc was supposed to have been a means to an end, nothing more, but somehow he’d turned the tables on her. He’d asked about her father. Lia knew what sort of man her father had been and now it seemed as though Luc was somehow connected, which couldn’t be good. Besides, if she found a way through this, she was determined to put that part of her life behind her.

So she had run.

Now, it seemed he had caught her, and she needed to understand why. She searched his face, but his expression was concealed behind dark sunglasses.

“You found me,” she said. “Why?”

“Why what?” His voice was without emotion.

“Why did you bother? I know I left without saying good-bye, but it must have been obvious I didn’t want your job.”

“Maybe I was curious as to why you changed your mind.”

His eyes were hidden, but she knew he was watching her closely, examining her from behind his dark glasses, and she squirmed. She was finding it almost impossible to believe she had ever been intimate with this stranger.

“I don’t normally do that sort of thing.”

“What sort of thing would that be?” he asked.

He wasn’t going to make this easy on her and staring into that hard blank face, it was slowly dawning on her that for some reason he was angry. Coldly, furiously angry, and again, she couldn’t understand why. So, she had left without saying good-bye. That was hardly a crime. He’d probably left dozens of women in the same way.

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