Annie's Secret. Carole Mortimer

Annie's Secret - Carole  Mortimer


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evening—on two conditions,’ she added swiftly as she saw the triumphant glitter in the depths of those coal-black eyes. ‘One, that I be allowed to leave when I want to.’

      ‘And if you wish to leave as soon as you have arrived?’

      ‘I won’t.’ She doubted she would be allowed to leave if she decided to tell him about Oliver!

      ‘How can I be sure of that?’

      ‘I don’t lie, remember?’ she pointed out.

      ‘Very well, I agree to your first condition.’

      She looked at him from under long lashes. ‘Two, we dine in the hotel restaurant and not your hotel suite.’

      He smiled mockingly. ‘You are…nervous at the thought of being alone with me?’

      Nervous didn’t even begin to describe Annie’s feelings of apprehension concerning spending more time with him. She was only agreeing to have dinner with him at all because she already knew this older and harder Luc well enough to realise this situation needed closure. One way or another.

      Besides, if she should decide to tell Luc about Oliver during dinner this evening, then Annie knew that the whole of the Balfour family would rise up protectively at any attempt by Luc to take Oliver away from her.

      ‘Not in the least,’ she denied easily as she turned to pick up her towel and bag. ‘I merely believe in the safety of numbers.’

      ‘So you are nervous of being alone with me,’ Luc drawled.

      ‘No, I’m not.’ She flicked back her shoulder-length hair as she turned to meet his gaze unflinchingly. ‘I’m merely hoping that the fact there are other people around—as there are now—will prevent me from giving in to the temptation I have to slap that look of satisfaction off your arrogant face!’

      Luc gave an appreciative grin at this fiery response. ‘I will very much look forward to seeing you again at eight o’clock this evening, Annie.’

      ‘Well, that makes one of us, I suppose!’ she said smartly before turning to stride determinedly up the beach back to the hotel.

      Luc remained standing where he was for several minutes after Annie had disappeared inside the hotel, his eyes narrowed in thoughtful contemplation. He had known her before. Intimately. So very intimately. And she had known him just as intimately.

      The resentment and anger he had sensed in her this morning now made complete sense. The apprehension he had read in her expression a few minutes ago, almost a look of fear, did not.

      What could she possibly have to fear from him?

      Could it be that, like Luc, she grew hot at the memory of that night they had spent together? That she became aroused at the thought of the intimacies they had shared? That no matter how she denied it, they might share those intimacies again?

      Or could Annie’s wariness of him be for another reason entirely…?

      Chapter Three

      ‘YOU’RE just in time,’ the woman at the end of the row of seats at the back of the conference room commented as she scooted along so that Annie could sit down beside her.

      Annie had been completely flustered by that encounter with Luc on the beach earlier—by her uncertainty as to whether or not she should tell him about Oliver during dinner this evening—that she’d had very little time to shower and dress in preparation for this afternoon’s meeting.

      Consequently she’d only just managed to get into the conference room before the doors were closed. She sat down hurriedly now as the head of the conference stood to make several announcements before it came time to introduce the guest speaker for the afternoon, her thoughts still on the dilemma of whether or not to tell Luc about their son.

      Oliver was only three years old now, but when he was older he might come to resent the fact that he had grown up without knowing his father. He might actually come to hate Annie for not telling Luc about him—

      ‘I don’t know about you, but he’s the only reason I fought so hard to come on this course,’ the blonde woman beside Annie said in an excited whisper.

      Annie had no idea which ‘he’ the woman was referring to, although she somehow doubted it could be the sixty-year-old chairman of the conference, Daniel Russell. Not that she was particularly interested in the other woman’s conversation. How could she be, when she was so churned up inside at the thought of what was best for Oliver?

      ‘He almost never appears in public any more, you know,’ the woman continued confidingly.

      ‘Really?’ Annie answered distractedly, her thoughts still firmly on Luc.

      Obviously Luc was Italian, but he’d told her long ago at the ski resort that his home was in Rome, so what was he doing at a hotel in Lake Garda, of all places?

      More to the point, how long did he intend staying here?

      Long enough to have insisted Annie have dinner with him this evening, at least, so that the two of them could ‘talk’!

      ‘—a warm welcome to Luca de Salvatore!’ Daniel Russell announced proudly.

      Annie glanced without interest at the podium, her eyes then widening in disbelief as she stared at the dark-suited man who strode arrogantly onto the slightly raised platform to take his place so confidently behind that podium.

      It was him!

      Luc.

      No, not Luc, Annie realised as she began to tremble, but Luca de Salvatore.

      Oliver’s father was Luca de Salvatore!

      Anyone who was anyone in the world of business—even the usually stay-at-home Annie—had heard of Luca de Salvatore. It was impossible not to have heard of the man who had taken over the reins of his father’s crumbling business empire several years ago, before ruthlessly cutting the number of employees of that business empire to the bone, and then proceeding to eliminate or simply take over any and all of the competitors who stood in the way of the de Salvatore business empire, retaking its place as one of the most powerful in the world.

      Making Luca de Salvatore, as the head of that extensive and successful business empire, one of the most powerful men in the world…

      Annie had never even guessed, never imagined, that the Luca de Salvatore, spoken of with so much awe and respect by people equally as powerful as he, such as her father, was actually Luc! Her Luc!

      No, not her Luc, Annie corrected shakily. He had never been her Luc. One night together four and a half years ago hadn’t made him hers. And Luca de Salvatore, with a well-earned reputation for being coldly ruthless in his personal life as well as in business, had never belonged to any woman.

      She had to get out of here. Needed to think—

      Annie froze on the spot, literally couldn’t move a muscle, was held completely captive, as the piercing coal-black eyes that had swept so purposefully about the room now came to rest on her as she half rose in her seat, those dark eyes narrowing in challenge as he seemed to guess she was about to leave.

      As if, somehow, Luc had known she was here…

      The slightly amused curl of his top lip confirmed that impression. As the slow, mocking rise of one dark brow over those taunting black eyes now dared her to stand fully and complete her escape.

      Damn!

      Luc had been standing unseen to one side of the raised platform when he chanced to see Annie hurrying belatedly into the room to hastily take a seat on the end of the back row, once again dressed in a dark business suit, with a cream blouse, the vibrant chestnut colour of her hair muted as it was swept back and secured at her nape.

      He had noted that Annie looked totally bored at the mere thought of spending the afternoon listening to yet another talk on business management.


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