A Marriage Fit for a Sinner Page 6

  He stared down at her. ‘I told him to remove all pink diamonds from the collection and instruct my jewellers that I do not wish to deal with diamonds of that colour in the future.’

  ‘Really? I thought pink diamonds were all the rage these days?’

  He shrugged. ‘Not for me. Let’s call it a personal preference.’

  The penny dropped and she tried to pull away from his hold. He refused to let go. ‘Are you really that petty?’ she asked as they approached a heavy set of oak doors. ‘Just because Harry gave me a pink diamond...’ Her eyes widened when he caught her shoulders and pinned her against the wall. When she started to struggle, he stepped closer, caging her in with his body.

  ‘You’ll refrain from mentioning his name in my presence ever again. Is that understood?’ Zaccheo felt his control slipping as her scent tangled with his senses and her curvy figure moved against him.

  ‘Let me go and you’ll need never hear his name again,’ she snapped back.

  ‘Not going to happen.’ He released her. ‘After you.’

  She huffed a breath and entered the room. He followed and crossed to the window, struggling to get himself under control as the director walked in with three assistants bearing large velvet trays. They set them on the polished conference table and stepped back.

  ‘We’ll give you some privacy,’ the director said before exiting with his minions.

  Zaccheo walked to the first tray and pulled away the protective cloth. He stared at the display of diamonds in all cuts and sizes, wondering for a moment how his father would’ve reacted to this display of obscene wealth. Paolo Giordano had never managed to achieve even a fraction of his goals despite sacrificing everything, including the people he should’ve held dear. Would he have been proud, or would he have bowed and scraped as the bank director had a few moments ago, eager to be deemed worthy of merely touching them?

  ‘Perhaps we should get on with choosing a stone. Or are we going to stare at them all day?’ Eva asked.

  * * *

  Eva watched his face harden and bit her tongue. She wasn’t sure why she couldn’t stop goading him. Did part of her want to get under his skin as he so effortlessly got under hers?

  Annoyed with herself for letting the whole absurd situation get to her, she stepped forward and stared down at the dazzling array of gems. Large. Sparkling. Flawless. Each worth more than she would earn in half her lifetime.

  None of them appealed to her.

  She didn’t want to pick out another cold stone to replace the one she’d handed back to Harry before running after Zaccheo last night.

  She didn’t want to be trapped into yet another consequence of being a Pennington. She wanted to be free of the guilty resentment lurking in her heart at the thought that nothing she did would ever be enough for her family. Or the sadness that came with the insurmountable knowledge that her sister would continue to block any attempt to forge a relationship with her father.

  She especially didn’t want to be trapped in any way with Zaccheo Giordano. That display of his displeasure a few moments ago had reminded her she wanted nothing to do with him. And it was not about his temper but what she’d felt when her body had been thrust against his. She’d wanted to be held there...indefinitely.

  Touching him.

  Soothing his angry brow and those brief flashes of pain she saw in his eyes when he thought she wasn’t looking.

  God, even a part of her wanted to coax out that heart-stopping smile she’d glimpsed so very rarely when he was pursuing her!

  What was wrong with her?

  ‘Is that the one you wish for?’

  She jumped and stared down at the stone that had somehow found its way into her palm. She blinked in shock.

  The diamond was the largest on the tray and twice as obscene as the one that had graced her finger last night. No wonder Zaccheo sounded so disparaging.

  ‘No!’ She hastily dropped it back into its slot. ‘I’d never wear anything so gratuitous.’

  His coldly mocking gaze made her cringe. ‘Really?’

  Irritation skated over her skin. ‘For your information, I didn’t choose that ring.’

  ‘But you accepted it in the spirit it was given—as the cost of buying your body in exchange for shares in Penningtons?’

  Icy rage replaced her irritation. ‘Your continuous insults make me wonder why you want to put up with my presence. Surely revenge can’t be as sweet as you wish it if the object of your punishment enrages you this much?’

  ‘Perhaps I enjoy tormenting you.’

  ‘So I’m to be your punching bag for the foreseeable future?’

  ‘Is this your way of trying to find out how long your sentence is to be?’

  ‘A sentence implies I’ve done something wrong. I know I’m innocent in whatever you believe I’ve done.’

  His smile could’ve turned a volcano into a polar ice cap. ‘I’ve found that proclamations of innocence don’t count for a thing, not when the right palm is greased.’

  She inhaled at the fury and bitterness behind his words. ‘Zaccheo...’

  Whatever feeble reply she’d wanted to make died when his eyes hardened.

  ‘Choose the diamond you prefer or I’ll choose it for you.’

  Eva turned blindly towards the table and pointed to the smallest stone. ‘That one.’

  ‘No.’

  She gritted her teeth. ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because it’s pink.’

  ‘No, it’s not...’ She leaned closer, caught the faint pink glow, and frowned. ‘Oh. I thought—’

  A mirthless smile touched his lips. ‘So did I. Perhaps I’ll change bankers after all.’ He lifted the cover of the second tray and Eva stared dispassionately at the endless rows of sparkling jewels. None of them spoke to her. Her heart hammered as it finally dawned on her why.

  ‘Is there any reason why you want to buy me a new ring?’

  He frowned. ‘Scusi?’

  ‘When you proposed the first time, you gave me a different ring. I’m wondering why you’re buying me a different one. Did you lose it?’ Despite the circumstances surrounding his proposal and her subsequent rejection of him, she’d loved that simple but exquisite diamond and sapphire ring.

  ‘No, I didn’t lose it.’ His tone was clipped to the point of brusqueness.

  ‘Then why?’

  ‘Because I do not wish you to have it.’

  Her heart did an achy little dance as she waited for further elaboration. When she realised none would be forthcoming, she pulled her gaze from his merciless regard and back to the display.

  He didn’t want her to have it. Why? Because the ring held special meaning? Or because she was no longer worthy of it?

  Berating herself for feeling hurt, she plucked a stone from the middle of the tray. According to the size chart it sat in mid-range, a flawless two carat, square-cut that felt light in her palm. ‘This one.’ She turned and found him staring at her, his gaze intense yet inscrutable.

  Wordlessly, he held out his hand.

  Her fingers brushed his palm as she dropped the stone and she bit back a gasp as that infernal electricity zinged up her arm.

  His eyes held hers for a long moment before he turned and headed for the door. The next few minutes passed in a blur as Zaccheo issued clipped instructions about mountings, scrolls and settings to the jeweller.

  * * *

  Before she could catch her breath, Eva was back outside. Flashes went off as a group of paparazzi lunged towards them. Zaccheo handed her into the car before joining her. With a curt instruction to the driver, the car lurched into traffic.

  ‘If I’ve achieved my publicity quota for the day, I’d like to be dropped at my flat, please.’

  Zaccheo focused those incisive eyes on her. ‘Why
would I do that?’

  ‘Aren’t we done? I’d catch a bus home, but I left my handbag and phone at Pennington Manor—’

  ‘Your belongings have been brought to my penthouse,’ he replied.

  ‘Okay, thanks. As soon as I collect them, I’ll be out of your hair.’ She needed to get out of this dress, shower and practise the six songs she would be performing at the club tonight. Saturday nights were the busiest of the week, and she couldn’t be late. The music producer who’d been frequenting the club for the last few weeks might make another appearance tonight.

  A little bubble of excitement built and she squashed it down as that half-smile that chilled her to the bone appeared on Zaccheo’s face.

  ‘You misunderstand. When I mentioned your belongings, I didn’t mean your handbag and your phone. I meant everything you own in your bedsit has been removed. While we were picking your engagement ring, your belongings were relocated. Your rent has been paid off with interest and your landlady is busy renting the property to someone else.’

  ‘What on earth are you talking about?’ she finally asked when she’d picked up her jaw from the floor and sifted through his words. ‘Of course I still live there. Mrs Hammond wouldn’t just let you into my flat. And she certainly wouldn’t arbitrarily end my lease without speaking to me first.’

  Zaccheo just stared back at her.

  ‘How dare you? Did you threaten her?’

  ‘No, Eva. I used a much more effective tool.’

  Her mouth twisted. ‘You mean you threw so much money at her she buckled under your wishes?’

  He shrugged rugged, broad shoulders. ‘You of all people should know how money sways even the most veracious hearts. Mrs Hammond was thrilled at the prospect of receiving her new hip replacement next week instead of at the end of the year. But it also helps that she’s a hopeless romantic. The picture of us in the paper swayed any lingering doubts she had.’

  Eva’s breath shuddered out. Her landlady had lamented the long waiting list over shared cups of tea and Eva had offered a sympathetic ear. While she was happy that Mrs Hammond would receive her treatment earlier than anticipated and finally be out of pain, a huge part of her couldn’t see beyond the fact that Zaccheo had ripped her safe harbour away without so much as a by your leave.

  ‘You had absolutely no right to do that,’ she blazed at him.

  ‘Did I not?’ he asked laconically.

  ‘No, you didn’t. This is nothing but a crude demonstration of your power. Well, guess what, I’m unimpressed. Go ahead and do your worst! Whatever crimes you think we’ve committed, maybe going to prison is a better option than this...this kidnapping!’

  ‘Believe me, prison isn’t an option you want to joke with.’

  His lacerated tone made her heart lurch. She looked into his face and saw the agony. Her eyes widened, stunned that he was letting her witness that naked emotion.

  ‘You think you know what it feels like to be robbed of your freedom for months on end? Pray you never get to find out, Eva. Because you may not survive it.’

  ‘Zaccheo... I...’ She stuttered to a halt, unsure of what to make of that raw statement.

  His hand slashed through the air and his mask slid back into place. ‘I wanted you relocated as swiftly as possible with a minimum of fuss,’ he said.

  A new wave of apprehension washed over her. ‘Why? What’s the rush?’

  ‘I thought that would be obvious, Eva. I have deep-seated trust issues.’

  Sadly, she’d reaped the rewards of betrayed trust, but the fierce loyalty to her family that continued to burn within her made her challenge him. ‘How is that my family’s fault?’

  His nostrils flared. ‘I trusted your father. He repaid that trust with a betrayal that sent me to prison! And you were right there next to him.’

  Again she heard the ragged anguish in his voice. A hysterical part of her mind wondered whether this was the equivalent of a captor revealing his face to his prisoner. Was she doomed now that she’d caught a glimpse of what Zaccheo’s imprisonment had done to him?

  ‘So you keeping me against my will is meant to be part of my punishment?’

  He smiled. ‘You don’t have to stay. You have many options available to you. You can call the police, tell them I’m holding you against your will, although that would be hard to prove since three hundred people saw you chase after me last night. Or you can insist I return your things and reinstate your lease. If you choose to walk away, no one will lift a finger to stop you.’

  ‘But that’s not quite true, is it? What real choice do I have when you’re holding a threat over my father’s head?’

  ‘Leave him to flounder on his own if you truly believe you’re guilt-free in all of this. You want to make a run for it? Here’s your chance.’

  His pointed gaze went to the door and Eva realised they’d completed the short journey from the bank to the iconic building that had brought Zaccheo into her life and turned it upside down.

  She glanced up at the building Architectural Digest had called ‘innovative beyond its years’ and ‘a heartbreakingly beautiful masterpiece’.

  Where most modern buildings boasted elaborate glass edifices, The Spire was a study in polished, tensile steel. Thin sheets of steel had been twisted and manipulated around the towering spear-like structure, making the tallest building in London a testament to its architect’s skill and innovation. Its crowning glory was its diamond-shaped, vertiginous platform, within which was housed a Michelin-starred restaurant surrounded by a clear twenty-foot waterfall.

  One floor beneath the restaurant was Zaccheo’s penthouse. Her new home. Her prison.

  The sound of him exiting the car drew her attention. When he held out his hand to her, she hesitated, unable to accept that this was her fate.

  A muscle ticced in his jaw as he waited.

  ‘You’d love that, wouldn’t you? Me helping you bury my father?’

  ‘He’s going down either way. It’s up to you whether he gets back up or not.’

  Eva wanted to call his bluff. To shut the door and return everything to the way it was this time yesterday.

  The memory of her father in that hospital bed, strung up to a beeping machine, stopped her. She’d already lost one parent. No matter how difficult things were between them, she couldn’t bear to lose another. She would certainly have no hope of saving her relationship with her sister if she walked away.

  Because one thing was certain. Zaccheo meant to have his way.

  With or without her co-operation.

  CHAPTER SIX

  EVA BLEW HER fringe out of her eyes and glanced around her. The guest suite, a different one from the one she’d slept in last night, was almost three times the size of her former bedsit. And every surface was covered with designer gowns and accessories. Countless bottles of exclusive perfumes and luxury grooming products were spread on the dresser, and a team of six stylists each held an item of clothing, ready to pounce on her the moment she took off the dress she was currently trying on.

  She tried hard to see the bright side of finally being out of the red dress. Unfortunately, any hint of brightness had vanished the moment she’d stepped out of the car and re-entered Zaccheo’s penthouse.

  ‘How many more before we’re done?’ She tried to keep her voice even, but she knew she’d missed amiability by a mile when two assistants exchanged wary glances.

  ‘We’ve done your home and evening-wear package. We just need to do your vacation package and we’ll be done with wardrobe. Then we can move on to hair and make-up,’ Vivian, the chief stylist, said with a megawatt smile.

  Eva tried not to groan. She needed to be done so she could find her phone and call her father. There was no way she was twiddling her thumbs until Monday to get a proper answer.

  Being made into Zaccheo
’s revenge punchbag...his married revenge punchbag...wasn’t a role she intended to be placed in. When she’d thought there was a glimmer of doubt as to Zaccheo’s threat being real, she’d gone along with this farce. But with each hour that passed with silence from her father, Eva was forced to believe Zaccheo’s threats weren’t empty.

  Would he go to such lengths to have her choose precious gems, remove her from her flat, and hire a team of stylists to turn her into the sort of woman he preferred to date, if this was just some sort of twisted game?

  Her hand clenched as her thoughts took a different path. What exactly was Zaccheo trying to turn her into? Obviously he wasn’t just satisfied with attaining her pedigree for whatever his nefarious purposes were. He wanted her to look like a well-dressed mannequin while he was at it.

  ‘Careful with that, Mrs Giordano. That lace is delicate.’

  She dropped the dress, her heart hammering far too fast for her liking. ‘Don’t call me that. I’m not Mrs Giordano—’

  ‘Not yet, at least, right, bellissima?’

  Eva heard the collective breaths of the women in the room catch. She turned as Zaccheo strode in. His eyes were fixed on her, flashing a warning that made her nape tingle. Before she could respond, he lifted her hands to kiss her knuckles, one after the other. Her breathing altered precariously as the silky hairs of his beard and the warm caress of his mouth threw her thoughts into chaos.

  ‘It’s only a few short days until we’re husband and wife, sì?’ he murmured intimately, but loud enough so every ear in the room caught the unmistakeable statement of possession.

  She struggled to think, to speak, as sharp grey eyes locked with hers.

  ‘No...I mean, yes...but let’s not tempt fate. Who knows what could happen in a few short days?’ She fully intended to have placed this nightmare far behind her.

  His thumbs caressed the backs of her hands in false intimacy. ‘I’ve moved mountains to make you mine, il mio prezioso. Nothing will stand in my way.’ His accent was slightly more pronounced, his tone deep and captivating.

  Envious sighs echoed around the room, but Eva shivered at the icy intent behind his words. She snatched her hands from his. Or she attempted to.