that had clearly been made for him, but it wasn’t the suit that Lucy noticed first. It was his height and the broad width of his shoulders, and the hard plane of a very muscular chest. He was strength incarnate, the epitome of power. Although he lounged in the big leather chair as if waiting for a boring meeting to finish, one ankle resting on the opposite knee, he radiated that power like a king, all determination and purpose and casual arrogance.
She blinked, a feeling of safety filtering through her.
Yes, she’d been right to come here. If there was anyone on earth who could protect her from her father, it was this man.
He still didn’t say anything, watching her with eyes so dark they verged on black.
He wasn’t handsome, though he possessed a powerful and undeniable charisma. It was there in his deeply set eyes, in the hard cast of his jaw, high cheekbones and straight nose. An aristocrat turned crusader. The air of ruthlessness around him made him utterly compelling.
Are you sure you were right to come here?
But Lucy shoved the thought away. She couldn’t start second-guessing now.
This was Vincenzo de Santi himself and it was time to implement the next stage of her plan.
She forced herself to walk forward to the desk, stopping in front of it just as someone rattled the handle of the office door.
‘Mr de Santi!’ a voice called from outside.
She swallowed and said very quickly, before Security came bursting through that door, ‘Mr de Santi, my name is Lucy Armstrong and I’m here because I need your protection.’
De Santi ignored the shouting and simply watched her with no more than minor curiosity. And said nothing.
‘Mr de Santi!’ The door rattled again. ‘I’m calling Security right now!’
He stirred, as if only mildly bothered. ‘No need, Raoul,’ he called back, his English lightly accented, his voice deep and cold. ‘Security are already aware.’ He sounded bored.
Except the black gaze that speared her was not.
He is dangerous.
Fear moved through her again and she had to force it down hard. That was the problem with strong men. Strength meant safety but it could also mean danger, as she knew all too well. Especially for her.
He was a fanatic, the rumours said. He couldn’t be swayed and he couldn’t be bought. He was incorruptible and merciless against his enemies.
You are his enemy.
She was. But she had no other choice. She couldn’t go to the authorities, not when she was a criminal herself, and that limited her options. Vincenzo de Santi was the only one who could keep her safe, she had no doubt. Anyway, though he was dangerous, he couldn’t be more dangerous than her father, surely?
‘Mr de Santi,’ Lucy said, preparing her speech again, in case he hadn’t heard her the first time, ‘my name is—’
‘I know who you are,’ he interrupted in the same bored, calm way.
‘Oh.’ She was a little nonplussed. If he knew who she was already, then shouldn’t he be more...interested? Wouldn’t the daughter of his enemy simply walking into his office make him pleased? Certainly he should have been asking her questions. Except he wasn’t. He was simply sitting there, at his leisure, in that big black leather chair. Staring at her.
It was unnerving.
Lucy shifted on her feet. She wasn’t used to being stared at the way he was staring at her. As if those dark eyes were X-rays and they could see right through her clothes to her skin and deeper, right through her flesh, down to her bones.
You’re freezing again. Don’t get distracted, keep your attention on the goal.
That’s right, she had to concentrate. The minutes were ticking away and she didn’t know what would happen when her father’s men burst in here. They might drag her away and she didn’t want that, at least not before she’d put her proposition to him.
Steeling herself, Lucy pushed her glasses up her nose and stared right back. ‘If you know who I am then you’ll also know who my father is. I need your protection, Mr de Santi, and I’m willing to pay handsomely for it.’
‘I see.’ He didn’t look at all surprised at this, nor one whit less bored. ‘Please explain why I should give you anything at all.’
But Lucy didn’t have the time to answer questions. She knew what she was bringing to his door in coming here: a war. No more and no less, and he needed to know immediately.
‘I’ll explain when you’ve agreed. You probably have ten minutes before