The Italian's Final Redemption - Jackie Ashenden Page 0,10

impressed. Your encryption might hold out against my experts or it might not. But perhaps I’m not in the mood to wait for them to break it. Perhaps I’m in the mood to make a bargain with you instead.’

Her gaze was ferocious. ‘What kind of bargain?’

‘Your skills are obviously valuable and I could use them, and not only to take your father down. There are plenty of other men and women just like him around. Those who need to be behind bars, and I think you could prove very useful in helping me bring them to justice.’

Those small white teeth worried at her bottom lip. It was very red now and very full, and it had the sweetest curve. A vulnerable, soft mouth. Would it taste as sweet if he took a bite out of it himself?

Why are you thinking about her mouth, fool?

The thought was sharp and bright and shocking. He had no idea why he was thinking about her mouth. None. He shouldn’t have even noticed it.

‘Why would I want to do that?’ she asked bluntly, not noticing his sudden stillness. ‘I’ll help you with my father and that’s all.’

Irritation rippled through him once again, his temper not helped by his own wandering thoughts. ‘I’m afraid you do not have a choice.’ He kept his voice flat and cold. ‘If you want a week before I hand you to the authorities it will be in my custody and you will do anything I ask. That is the price. If you don’t want to pay it then I will get my security team to hand you over to the police immediately.’

She bit at her lip, the expression on her face—what he could see of it behind all that hair and those big glasses—turning angry. ‘But you won’t be able to take down my father if I don’t help you.’

‘Of course I can take down your father without you.’ He made a negligible gesture. ‘It would only take longer. Your help would expedite the process, but it’s not necessary.’

‘Then why bargain with me at all?’

Another good point. She was astute, he’d give her that. Because he really didn’t need to bargain with her. He could make her do whatever he wanted, since he was the one with all the power here. But doing so would make him no better than those he brought to justice, and he would never use those kinds of tactics.

‘Because, although you are not necessary, you could prove to be useful,’ he said, just as blunt as she was. ‘And a tool is only useful if it is not broken. I have no wish to break you, Miss Armstrong, believe me.’

‘But you want to use me.’ There was no anger in her tone, only a kind of...resignation. As if the situation she now found herself in wasn’t unfamiliar.

And it wouldn’t be. She was as much a tool for him as she was for her father and he was very aware of that fact. Not that it bothered him. Not given what was at stake.

The old crime families of Europe were like a disease, rotting the body from the inside. Corrupting everything. That corruption was inside himself too and he knew it. Knew his own family’s history and the stain they’d left behind them over the centuries.

He wasn’t exempt from that corruption, but at least he wasn’t here to hasten its spread. No, he was a surgeon and he would cut it out completely.

‘No, civetta,’ he said, because a surgeon needed a sharp scalpel, ‘I do not want to use you. I will use you. If you want your week of freedom, then you must pay for it and that is my price.’

She continued to stare at him, frowning, as if he was a problem she wanted to solve. ‘When you say “freedom”, what exactly do you mean?’ she asked. ‘Because you won’t be letting me go, I assume.’

‘No, I’m afraid not.’

She only nodded, as if that was the answer she’d expected. ‘Well, I suppose if I were truly free that would leave me unprotected, which would undermine the whole point of me coming to you in the first place.’ The line between her brows seemed etched there, marring her pale skin, and he found himself idly wondering if that skin was as soft as it looked. Whether it would be as soft as her mouth. ‘I wouldn’t like to be in a cell,’ she went on. ‘My father kept me in his house in Cornwall with