The Cost of Her Innocence

CHAPTER THREE



IT WAS A blazing-hot day, and Beth’s carefully straightened hair was already beginning to wave in the heat as she searched the kitchen one more time.

‘Got you!’ she cried triumphantly and, cradling Binkie in her arms, she carried him into the hall and closed the kitchen door with her hip. Finally she was ready to go. Her luggage was loaded into the boot of her car, and had been for hours, but Binkie was not. It was a five-hour drive to Devon, and she had planned on leaving at one. It was now three, but with luck she would easily make it before dark.

She eyed the cat carrier standing open in the hall. Binkie hated travelling, which was why she had spent ages trying to coax him out from under the kitchen units, after having chased him around the garden and the apartment. Now all she had to do was put him in the carrier and they could go.

Beth had given in her notice at work on Monday and, with the three weeks’ holiday she had yet to take, did not need to return to the office. She had spoken to Tony last night, but had not mentioned she was leaving permanently. She intended to do that when she came back to clear her apartment. Tony had promised to keep an eye on the place, and had also told her his brother’s engagement was off. Dante had gone to work in America for a while, conveniently escaping the flak from their mother over the cancelled wedding. She had already bought a hat!

Tony’s news had been music to Beth’s ears, and she’d realised she had probably worried unnecessarily. But she was pleased that Dante’s appearance in her life again had focused her mind and forced her to make a decision. Now, sun, sea and a new chapter in her life beckoned, Beth thought happily, bending down to lower Binkie into the carrier—which was easier said than done. He had leapt out of it twice already.

‘Stop wriggling, you useless ball of fur,’ she told him, and was just about to draw one hand free to shut the carrier when there was a ring at the front door—peremptory and sharp.

Ignoring it, Beth leant over, using her body to block Binkie’s escape, and swiftly closed the lid.

‘All right, all right—I’m coming!’ she yelled as the bell rang again and kept on ringing.

She got to her feet and, leaving the carrier on the floor, walked to the door. Probably some salesman, she thought. But whoever it was she would get rid of them quickly. She opened the door.

The social smile froze on her lips and she simply stared at the man standing before her. A dark, unsmiling figure in a charcoal pinstriped suit, jacket unfastened, the white shirt beneath open at the neck and startlingly brilliant against his tanned throat. Her stomach clenched and she stiffened, straightening her shoulders. It was the man she hated with a passion but had dreamed of far too often in the past two weeks for her peace of mind. Cannavaro...

* * *

Dante had received the report on Beth Lazenby a week ago in New York, and what he had read had confirmed his suspicions about her. He had arrived back in London this morning, and after a shower and a change had leapt in his car and driven here. Now he was on her doorstep. His features hardened as slowly he took in every detail of the way she looked: her hair was dishevelled, her face clear of make-up—and as for what she was wearing...

If he’d had the slightest doubt of the investigator’s findings that Jane Mason and Beth Lazenby were one and the same, it vanished as he noted the snug fit of denim shorts that showed off her long legs and the skimpy white top that revealed a tantalising cleavage and stopped six inches short of the toned flesh of a slender waist and abdomen. She was slimmer than before, but still had curves in all the right places, and she was more striking than ever.

He felt a surge of lust and saw again in his mind’s eye the image of that girl in the picture, wearing almost the same outfit as this woman wore now, but with one dramatic difference. The girl in the picture had had long black hair—as had the girl who’d stood in the dock and been found guilty of being a drug dealer.

He had been right to be suspicious of the redheaded beauty who had captivated his brother. She had latched on to a younger boy when she was a teenager, and been prepared to use his infatuation for her to ruin him and save her own neck when she had been caught in her reckless drug dealing. It would seem that she had ensnared his younger brother in much the same way. She obviously had not changed—only in the colour of her hair, which couldn’t be real. The thing that surprised him was that he had not recognised who she was sooner.

‘Hello, Beth. Or should I say Jane?’ he queried sardonically.

‘My legal name is Beth Lazenby,’ Beth stated bluntly.

The air between them was crackling with tension.

‘Maybe now. But it wasn’t when you were in the dock at nineteen.’

‘You’ve finally recognised me. Bully for you,’ she snapped sarcastically, seeing no point in denying it. So he had remembered where he had seen her before? Her temper rose at the audacity of the man, confronting her on her own doorstep.

‘Not exactly. But the investigator I hired to check on you refreshed my memory.’

Beth’s temper very nearly exploded at that revelation, and only by a terrific effort of will did she control the anger simmering inside her—along with other emotions she refused to recognise. She reminded herself she was no longer a gullible teenager but a confident woman, and she flatly refused to let Cannavaro intimidate her again.

‘Shame you wasted your money. I’m going on holiday now, and have already spent ages chasing the cat—which has made me late. You need to leave.’ And she caught the door handle with the intention of slamming the door in his face.

‘Not so fast.’ He put his foot in the door. ‘I want to talk to you.’

‘Well, tough. Because I have absolutely nothing to say to you.’ She turned, hanging on to her temper by a thread, and went to retrieve the cat in order to go.

But, remembering the time and pain Cannavaro had already cost her, she decided she had nothing left to lose, and spun back to find him towering over her.

She looked up at him, her green eyes spitting fury. ‘Except to say you have some nerve investigating me. Call yourself a lawyer? You are without doubt the most arrogant, devious, manipulative, lying bastard it has ever been my misfortune to meet. Got it? Now, go.’

His face was like carved granite and his eyes hard as he watched her mouth spew out the angry words. Suddenly he moved and a long arm shot around her. His large hand splayed across her back whilst the other grasped the back of her head and jerked her body towards him. He dipped his head, his mouth crashing down on hers, relentlessly prising her lips apart with the powerful thrust of his tongue. Shocked and furious, she tried to pull away, but his hands clamped her in position. Her head was so close to his she could not drag it from beneath his all-consuming mouth. The steel band of his arm was holding her pressed hard against his long body. She tried to struggle, but he was too strong—and shamefully, instead of feeling revulsion, she was floundering in the wave of heady sensation flowing through her body.

Frantically she tried to lift her hands and shove him away, but she was held so tightly against the hard wall of his chest that all she could do was claw at his broad shoulders as he wreaked sensual havoc with his penetrating kiss. Still she tried to resist, but he explored her mouth, hotly igniting a flame of arousal deep inside that scorched through her defences—and suddenly she wasn’t clawing, but clinging to him.

His fingers wound into her hair, pulling it back to tilt her head to one side, his mouth trailing the line of her neck to suck on the frantically leaping pulse there.

This could not be! She hated the man. She began to struggle so wildly that their bodies swayed and crashed against the wall, his long, hard length pinning her there. She was aware of his hot, male scent and the strength of his muscular and highly aroused body against her own in a shockingly intimate way she had never experienced before.

He lifted his head, her breath catching as she saw his face. He was staring at her with dark, mesmerising eyes as his hand moved from her head to the neckline of her top, his long fingers slipping beneath the fabric to graze a swelling nipple. Involuntarily her body arched, and she bit back the moan that rose in her throat.

Her voice seemed to have deserted her, and her heart was thudding so hard she thought it might burst. Her passionate hatred of him had been overtaken by passionate desire.

‘You can’t help yourself. You want me,’ he said in a deep, thickened voice.

‘No, I hate you,’ she said hoarsely.

He gave her one long look, his face suddenly wearing a cold remoteness that was frightening in itself. He straightened up and pulled her closer against him, his hand circling her throat to tip her head back. ‘Hate away. But think yourself lucky I only kissed you. If any man had said what you did to me he would be on the floor now. I will not tolerate anyone defaming my character—and certainly not a conniving ex-con like you. Understand?’

Shaken, and battling to control her overloaded senses, she heard his words and they were better than a cold shower. How typical of the arrogant devil. Beth shook her head in disgust.

‘Now we will have that talk.’ His hands dropped from her and he took a step back—and stumbled over the cat carrier. He swore, and Binkie shot out beneath his feet. Dante struggled to avoid the cat, lost the battle, and fell to the floor.

Beth laughed—if a bit hysterically. Perfect karma, she thought. The stunned look on his handsome face was priceless.

‘How the mighty are fallen,’ she quipped, and bent down to grab Binkie, ignoring the furious mountain of a man leaping to his feet. ‘There, there, Binkie,’ Beth said as she walked into the living room, cuddling the cat over her chest and shoulder to comfort him—and to disguise her tight nipples. ‘I know the nasty man kicked you, but he’s going now.’

Dante straightened up, not quite sure what had just happened. He’d been kissing her like a savage beast gone wild one minute, the next on the floor in a heap! He could still taste her on his tongue, and Beth—Jane—whoever she was—had for the first time in his life left him knocked out sensually and physically.

‘I did not kick the cat,’ Dante declared, following her into the room. His pride was seriously dented and he raked a distracted hand though his hair. What was it about this witch of a woman that turned him into a primitive, clumsy oaf? He had never tripped over his feet since he was a child. He looked at her, with a great lump of red fur the same colour as her hair clamped to her chest, her slender fingers stroking the cat’s head, then moving to scratch the animal under the chin.

She raised her eyes and looked at him. ‘You kicked over his carrier with him inside, which is the same thing—isn’t it, Binkie?’

Dante could not believe she had actually asked the damned cat. Maybe he had fallen into a different dimension. Maybe she really was a witch and the cat was her familiar, he thought, as two identical pairs of green eyes stared accusingly at him. The cat bared its teeth and he was sure he heard it hiss in agreement with his mistress.

He shook his head to clear his brain. The woman was driving him crazy. What hope would his impressionable young brother have with her? None—and his express purpose for being here was to get her out of Tony’s life.

‘I am not going anywhere—and neither are you until we talk,’ he commanded between clenched teeth. To emphasise the fact he shrugged off his jacket, crossed to one of the sofas flanking the fireplace and dropped it on the arm before he sat down.

Beth was a realist. She had to be. She saw the cold determination in his hard face. The wild, passionate interlude in the hall had been exactly what he had said—a punishment for daring to impugn his good character. Which was a joke, because as far as she was concerned he didn’t have one.

‘I’ll give you five minutes,’ she stated, her lips twitching as she sat down on the opposite sofa. She kissed the cat and put him down beside her. ‘Go on, Binkie. You can have another roam around the kitchen before we leave.’ She watched him jump off the sofa.

‘Do you always talk to your cat?’

She turned her cool gaze on Dante, trying to ignore the lingering warmth in the rest of her body that wasn’t being helped by the sight of him in a tailored white shirt and pleated trousers that fitted snugly over his muscular thighs. ‘Not always, but he is one of the few honest males I have met, and he is a great judge of character.’ She glanced down at Binkie, who had walked straight across to Cannavaro with his back arched, fur bristling as though he was about to attack. ‘He certainly recognises your type,’ she said dryly.

‘That cat does not like me.’ Dante stated the obvious, eyeing the hunchbacked animal with equal dislike. He was amazed to see that at the sound of his mistress’s voice the cat turned and looked at Beth, then crossed to rub slowly up against her bare legs before walking out of the door.

She shrugged her shoulders ‘Binkie is a tomcat and you are a strange male invading his territory. His natural instinct is to protect it.’

‘Not that strange. I have known you a long time, Jane.’ He deliberately used her old name, determined to get down to business.

Beth let her eyes rest on him for a moment. He was sitting on her sofa, making himself at home, with his long legs stretched out in casual ease, his black hair falling over his brow. He seemed so supremely sure of himself. To her shame, Beth felt her body responding to his potent masculine appeal and anger resurfaced—almost as much with herself as him.

‘If you think by calling me Jane you can intimidate me, forget it,’ she said bluntly. ‘I am no longer an innocent teenager you can browbeat in the dock.’

A black brow arched sardonically. ‘Innocent! I seem to recall it was the jury’s unanimous opinion that you were one hundred percent guilty.’

‘You mean the opinion you talked them into believing?’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ His brow lifted again. There was no sign of conscience on his face.

Beth shook her head dismissively. What was the point in arguing with him? She had lost eighteen months of her life because of Cannavaro and she wasn’t wasting any more. Rising to her feet, she deliberately let her gaze roam over his darkly attractive face, broad shoulders and the glimpse of black body hair revealed by the open-necked shirt before moving it lower over his long body....

He was a supreme physical specimen of masculinity, with the ability to arouse any woman, and her own innate honesty forced her to admit she was no exception. He had been right about the attraction between them. Even now, angry as she was, she could feel the sexual tension shimmering. But it didn’t make him any less of a lying toad in her eyes.

‘My name is Beth. You are in my home uninvited, supposedly because you want to talk, but so far I have heard nothing that I have not heard before. So get on with it. No thanks to you, I do have a life to get on with.’ She deliberately glanced down at her wristwatch and back up to him, her green eyes clashing with his. ‘You have two minutes, then I am leaving.’

‘You are very confident for an ex-con. But will you be so confident when I tell Tony of your past, I wonder?’ he drawled, lounging back against the soft cushions, obviously not about to move. ‘I recognised the type of woman you are the first time I saw you in the dock. You would do anything—even try to destroy a young boy who’s infatuated by you—to save your own skin. Now you have Tony equally infatuated with you and wanting to marry you, for no other reason than just because you can or—more likely—you want him for his wealth.’

That made Beth smile. ‘Not very flattering to your brother, are you? But feel free to tell him. I don’t mind, I don’t think Tony would either. A lot of young men his age consider it really cool to have a girlfriend who has done time in jail.’

His dark eyes watched her penetratingly and she knew she had got to him.

‘You could be right. But, believe me, I do not make idle threats. You will move out of this apartment and leave Tony alone—no contact of any kind—or I will tell your employer exactly who you are: a convicted drug dealer who has spent eighteen months in prison. I’m sure that’s something you probably missed off your CV. Steel and White is a highly respectable firm and will take a dim view of the omission. You will be out of a job—your carefully crafted reputation ruined.’

Beth listened to him with rising anger, realising he must have had her investigated immediately after the barbecue—otherwise he would know she had given in her notice to Steel and White on Monday. She did not know much about men, but she wasn’t a fool. The way Cannavaro had treated her earlier in the hall had surprised and aroused her, but there was no disguising the fact that he had been equally aroused—and she seriously doubted he was doing this just for his brother!

This man had destroyed her once and he was trying to do so again. But he wasn’t quite as clever as he thought. Prison life had taught her to control her body and her temper rigorously, but she could not resist goading the sanctimonious jerk.

‘That could happen, I suppose,’ she agreed, without batting an eyelash. ‘But I am a good accountant, and there are plenty of other jobs. Or I could set up my own business. You obviously haven’t thought this through, because short of following me around for the rest of my life there is nothing much you can do to me. According to you, I committed a crime—but I have served my time and am now a reformed character. So I changed my name by deed poll? That is perfectly legal. And for over six years now I have led a perfectly honest life. Can you say the same? I doubt it,’ she said derisively. ‘As for your threats—they don’t bother me. Thanks to you I grew a thick skin in prison, and I don’t have to do a damn thing you say. But, if it helps, I have no intention of marrying your brother—or any other man for that matter. Now, your two minutes are up. Time to go.’

He rose to his feet. She thought for a moment she had won, and turned towards the door, but a large hand clamped around her upper arm and spun her back to face him.

‘Not so fast,’ Dante declared, uncomfortably aware that the words of her spirited response was true. His investigator’s report had confirmed she had led a blameless life since her release from prison, but it did not make her any less guilty of the crime in his eyes. However, it did make him think again about what he was about to say. He studied her from beneath narrowed lids, noting the slight flush that stained her cheeks and the glitter of anger in her huge green eyes as she glared up at him. He was struck by her bravery in trying to defy him—but not enough to change his mind and let her go. And it had absolutely nothing to do with the growing ache in his groin!

‘This conversation is not over yet, Beth. I didn’t get around to mentioning your good friend Clive Hampton—the lawyer of your old cell mate, I believe.’

Beth stilled. ‘Clive?’ she murmured, and despite her brave words she suddenly felt wary.

‘He is a fine lawyer, known for his charity work and nearing retirement. There are rumours he will receive a decoration in the New Year’s Honours list.’ His eyes watched her. ‘Such a shame if his reputation is destroyed by his friendship with you. Maybe he could even be disbarred by the Law Lords.’

‘No...’ she breathed. ‘You can’t do that. Clive is the most caring, honest man I know. He has never broken a law in his life, I’m sure.’

‘He doesn’t have to break a law. But his close relationship with you could be perceived as bending the law. He collected you from prison, found you a place to live and recommended you to a business acquaintance of his to get you a position with an accountancy firm without revealing your change of name. Then there is Helen Jackson, your cellmate, whose divorce he arranged and whom he later defended unsuccessfully on a murder charge. It was rumoured that Helen was more than just a client to Clive, and with a beautiful woman like you to spice up the story the tabloids will have a field day.’

‘I am not news, and Helen is dead. Why would they bother to resurrect old history?’ She asked the question but already knew the answer. She saw it in the glint of triumph in his night-black eyes.

‘I have connections with the media. I can make sure they do.’ He shrugged, as though destroying a man’s reputation was nothing to him.

For a moment Beth was speechless and simply stared at him. ‘You would actually ruin Clive Hampton, a man respected by all who know him, simply because you think I am a criminal low-life after your brother and his money?’

‘I don’t have to think. I know you are an ex-con, and I know you used your considerable charms to get young Bewick under your spell. Now you are doing the same with Tony. He is infatuated by you. As for the money...I can’t be certain. But I do know Helen left you a house and a nice chunk of money. Maybe your talent for ensnaring men extends to females too.’ He shrugged his shoulders ‘Not my business. But Tony is. I stopped you once and I will again.’

He was so wrong that Beth couldn’t help but smile. ‘You make me sound like the Wicked Witch of the West,’ she quipped.

Dante’s lips quirked at the corners, but he said nothing. She was too close to what he had been thinking earlier.

Beth wasn’t surprised at his lack of response; the man had no sense of humour—although she thought she’d caught the hint of a smile just now. Anyway, what did it matter? Beth had very few options left open to her—if any.

She could tell him the truth about how she had been set up by Timothy Bewick and his partner in crime, James Hudson, and how the pair of them had lied at her trial. But what was the point? She had protested her innocence years ago and the jury had found her guilty. Cannavaro had made up his mind about her and nothing she said was going to change it now.

‘Okay, you win,’ Beth conceded. She needed to get away fast, because she was far too aware of him and was watching his lips for a hint of that smile she thought she’d seen... ‘Originally I was just going on holiday to Devon, but now I will definitely stay there.’

Beth had often dreamed of living at the coast one day, and after discussing it with Clive it had been an easy decision to make. In the past two weeks plans for the garage conversion had been prepared and submitted to the council, and a contractor had been hired for the refurbishment of the house, but she saw no reason to enlighten Cannavaro. It would feed his monumental ego to let him think she had given in to his demands and he had won.

‘I will have to come back for a few days to empty the apartment and retrieve the key Tony keeps for me. Then you and Tony will never see me again. Satisfied?’ she demanded caustically.

‘No...I would not say that,’ Dante drawled softly.

‘But you’ve got what you wanted,’ Beth said, confused. Then she saw the way he was looking at her, his eyes roaming over her body with lazy masculine appraisal before moving to her face. His hand on her arm tightened and for a moment she couldn’t move, couldn’t break away from the eyes holding hers, blatantly showing his sexual desire. Suddenly she was afraid—not of him, but of herself, as the same heated desire held her in thrall and she could no longer ignore the way her body reacted to him.

‘Not quite everything... You are an experienced, sophisticated woman and Clive Hampton risked his reputation for the privilege of having you in his bed.’

‘That is disgusting. Clive—’ Beth cut in, the heat between them instantly turning to anger.

‘Don’t bother denying it. You still see him and spend the occasional weekend at his home in Richmond. Who knows how many other men enjoy the pleasure of your body?’

Beth stared at him in furious disbelief. ‘That is the most despicable, vile lie I have ever heard. I have never slept with Clive. He is a truly honorable man...and you really are a first-class bastard, aren’t you?’

Even Dante could see Beth’s outrage was genuine and that she was telling the truth—but then he had never really thought Clive was her lover. He had used Clive as a ploy to get his own way, and he felt slightly ashamed, because as well as the anger he also saw the hurt in her emerald eyes.

‘Maybe I have been a bit harsh to you, but I am not interested in your other lovers—only Tony.’

Surprised he had actually admitted to being harsh, Beth looked up at him. ‘Tony isn’t my lover. He is a friend. I do have some,’ she said dryly.

‘I don’t doubt it.’ He lifted a finger to stroke her cheek and Beth sucked in a breath, her pulse going haywire. ‘You are a lovely woman and even if I believed you and your story that you will stay in Devon, you’ve said yourself I can’t follow you around for the rest of your life. What is to stop you calling Tony? He is my kid brother and, much as I love him, he is far too young to marry but impulsive enough to do just that. I can’t take that chance. Which is why I want him to have complete freedom from you.’

At his mention of freedom Beth fought down the urge to scream. What about my freedom? The freedom he had taken away so ruthlessly once. She had no doubt that given the chance he would do so again.

As though sensing her frustration he let go of her and stepped back, running a distracted hand through his hair. ‘It gives me no pleasure to fight with you, Beth. I know you have succeeded in turning your life around, but you are who you are. Try to see it from my point of view. If you had a young brother who wanted to marry a girl who was a convicted drug dealer, would you be happy about it?’ he asked.

Put like that, Beth could see he had a point. ‘No, I don’t suppose so,’ she said. Except in her case she was innocent of any crime.

‘You must understand I simply want to protect Tony.’ He flopped down on the sofa and glanced up at her. ‘And that means getting you out of his life,’ he said, a wry smile twisting his lips. ‘I flew in from America this morning and have been travelling for hours. Maybe if you made me a coffee it would help me think clearly and hopefully between us we can find a mutual agreeable solution to our problem.’

For a man who did not want to appear harsh, he had an odd way of showing it, Beth thought, but did not say it. ‘Fine, I’ll make you a coffee. I could use one myself anyway.’

Relieved to escape from his overwhelming presence, she walked out of the room and into the kitchen, taking a few deep breaths to calm her still-racing pulse. Automatically she filled the coffee machine, her head in a whirl. What other kind of solution had he in mind? she wondered. Banishing her to Outer Mongolia, maybe?

She ought to pick up Binkie, walk straight out of the door and go on her way without ever speaking to Cannavaro again. If she only had herself to consider she would. But the thought of Clive stopped her. It was unthinkable that his reputation could be ruined because of her....

Finally Beth decided that all she could do was tell the truth, calmly and succinctly. Maybe Cannavaro would finally listen to her and accept that he had no need to worry about his brother. She would explain again about her friendship with Tony and the non-existent affair, and that she really was moving out anyway. In fact he could check with Steel and White that she had already handed in her notice. Surely that would convince him to believe her, and leave her alone?

Filling two cups with coffee, she placed them on a tray and carried it through to the living room. There was no sign of her guest. Then she heard the sound of curtains being drawn and realised where he was. She exited the room in a rush, to enter the bedroom next door. The curtains were half open and Cannavaro was standing in the bay window.

‘What are you doing in here?’ Beth demanded. She loved her bedroom and it felt far too intimate, seeing him standing there, all virile male, legs slightly apart, looking out of the window. She had never had a man in her bedroom before, and the picture he presented was very seductive.

It was large room with a high ceiling, and Beth had decorated it in mint green and ivory. The bed was centred on one wall, and on another were wardrobes and her dressing table. Next to the window was her pride and joy: an antique ladies’ bureau.

‘I am not familiar with this area or the parking.’ He turned to look at her. ‘So I thought I’d check my car. I only took delivery of it three weeks ago, and I have been abroad for two of them. I wanted to make sure it was okay.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘I have to confess my secret pleasure is cars. I can’t resist buying them and changing them. At the moment I have a dozen, from vintage to the latest model. Ten at home in Italy and two here now.’

He gave her another smile and Beth was surprised that he actually seemed quite human when he was talking about his cars, and not the devil she had thought him.

‘I would never have put you down as a petrolhead,’ she said. ‘You should meet the man who takes care of my car. He is a real fanatic.’

‘Your car being the distinctive white one parked outside, I presume?’

‘Yes...’ Beth was very proud of her car, and had even given it a name. Given what Dante had just told her, his desire to check on his car sounded feasible.

‘Very nice...’

He glanced out of the window and then back to her. ‘Ah, you have the coffee.’ Walking over, he took a cup from the tray and strode back to the window. ‘The paintwork on your vehicle is highly original. Come and explain what it represents.’

Beth put the tray down on the dressing table and crossed to the window. Her eyes widened in appreciation at the sleek black Ferrari parked by the side of the road behind her modest Volkswagen, and she could understand perfectly why he was worried about his car. But standing so close to him like this was not a good idea, and she was suddenly very conscious of the close proximity of his body to hers. The quicker she told him about her car, the quicker she would get him out of her bedroom and her apartment. Which was what she wanted, wasn’t it?

‘The turquoise swirls along the side are meant to represent the waves of the sea, and if you look really closely you can see the outline of a mermaid and the name “Jess” spelt out by the spray on the crest of a wave. A young man who used to be a graffiti artist with a penchant for stealing cars is now an apprentice mechanic at the local garage. He offered to personalise my car and we chose the design between us.’

‘Is his name Jess?’ Dante asked, frowning down at her.

‘Good heavens, no. Jess was my best friend for a long time, but she’s gone now.’ As a child Beth had created an imaginary friend called Jess, and such had been her loneliness and desperation in prison she had remembered her again. Suddenly it hit her: how sad for a grown woman to remember such childish things. She sighed. It would seem she would never be truly free of her past.

Dante put the coffee cup down on the windowsill and stepped closer. ‘I’m sorry if I have revived sad memories for you, Beth. Contrary to what you think, I do not want to cause you any harm. I simply want you out of Tony’s life. He is far too young to be thinking of marriage.’

She looked up into his dark eyes. They were no longer hard and cruel, but gleaming with a warmth that seemed genuine. But she had been fooled by him before, she remembered, and thought again of her decision to explain her situation to him fully.

‘From what I know of Tony he is perfectly able to look after himself—though he and Mike do tend to borrow milk, sugar, food...you name it. But, hey, what are friends for?’ She shrugged. ‘And you are totally wrong. Tony has no desire to marry me or any woman. He has said so often enough. The only reason he made that comment about wanting to be my fiancé was to get one over on you.’

She looked squarely at him.

‘Apparently you are a noted connoisseur of women, and Tony thought that with me on his arm his status would increase a hundred percent in your eyes. It was a joke. He was teasing you because he thinks you are far too serious. In a rash moment I decided to go along with him. Misguidedly, as it has turned out, or you would not be here,’ she said wryly. ‘And I certainly do not want to marry Tony or any man. I value my independence far too much to risk losing it again. As for money—I have enough of my own, and I really am moving out of here. If you don’t believe me you can call Steel and White. They will tell you I resigned five days ago.’

‘That won’t be necessary, Beth. I believe you. Tony has always been a bit of a joker. You are a beautiful woman. Any man would want you in his bed—I know I would. Two consenting adults...there is nothing wrong with that...but Tony is not like you and I. He is still idealistic enough to equate sex with love. But I realise I may have overdone the protective older brother bit and been a little hard on you.’

Stunned that he believed what she’d said, and even more stunned by his comment that he wanted her and classed her in the ‘consenting adults’ department, Beth lifted her eyes to his. What she saw in the glittering depths of his eyes made her drag in a trembling breath before continuing. ‘That must be a first. You never believed a word I said before.’

‘It is not solely a woman’s prerogative to change her mind.’ He gave her a twisted smile. ‘Since meeting you again I’ve realised I may have misjudged you. I admire the fact you have managed to turn your life around. You are an incredible woman,’ he said, and, dipping his head, he brushed her lips with his.