Captive in His Castle Read online

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  His nostrils flared and he gave his head a slight shake, utterly nonplussed by his reaction. He had met hundreds of beautiful women in his life, and bedded more of them than he cared to think about, but this woman quite literally took his breath away. His eyes were drawn to the front of her white towelling robe, which was gaping slightly to reveal the pale upper slopes of her breasts. The realisation that she was probably naked beneath the robe heated his blood, and every nerve-ending in his body prickled with fierce sexual awareness.

  Swallowing hard, Drago studied the woman’s face. It was a perfect oval, and her delicate features looked as though they had been sculpted from fine porcelain. The high cheekbones gave her an elfin quality that was further accentuated by her slanting green eyes. Her long, damp, dark red hair contrasted starkly with her pale skin.

  Something unfurled deep in his gut—a primitive hunger and an inexplicable sense of possessiveness that made him want to seize her in his arms and lay claim to her.

  ‘Can I help you?’

  Her voice was soft, with a slight huskiness that made his heart jolt. He found himself hoping that his aunt’s lawyer had made a mistake with the address and this woman was not his cousin’s mistress. The idea of Angelo making love to her incited a feeling of violent jealousy in him.

  He gave himself a mental shake, irritated by his body’s unwarranted response to her, and demanded abruptly, ‘Are you Jess Harper?’

  Her green eyes narrowed. ‘Who wants to know?’

  ‘My name is Drago Cassari. I understand that my cousin Angelo has been living here with you.’

  ‘Cousin!’ She sounded genuinely shocked. ‘Angelo told me that he was alone and had no family.’

  So he had the right address, and the right woman. Drago’s jaw tightened as he struggled to dismiss the image that had come into his mind of tracing the perfect cupid’s-bow shape of her lips with his tongue. As he walked towards her she retreated behind the half-open door and eyed him distrustfully.

  ‘I was unaware that Angelo had any relatives. Do you have proof that you are his cousin?’

  Irritated by her suspicious tone, he withdrew his mobile phone from his jacket and accessed a photograph stored in the phone’s memory.

  ‘This is a picture of me with Angelo and his mother, taken six months ago when we attended the opening of the new Cassa di Cassari store in Milan,’ he explained, handing the phone to her.

  She stared at the screen for several moments. ‘It’s definitely Angelo, although I’ve never seen him wearing a tuxedo before,’ she said slowly. ‘But…it doesn’t make sense. I don’t understand why he never mentioned his family.’

  Drago did not think it strange that his cousin had kept details of his private life secret. The Cassaris were one of the wealthiest families in Italy and attracted huge media attention. Drago had been hounded by the paparazzi since he was a teenager. He had learned to choose his friends carefully, and had taught his cousin to do the same. Although if the information about Jess Harper having a criminal record was true, then perhaps Angelo had not been careful enough, he mused.

  The confused expression on Jess Harper’s face was surprisingly convincing.

  ‘There’s a Cassa di Cassari department store in Oxford Street that sells the most beautiful but incredibly expensive bedlinen and other household furnishings.’ If she ever won the lottery, Jess had promised herself that she would shop exclusively at Cassa di Cassari. ‘It had never occurred to me until now that Angelo has the same name—Cassari. I suppose it’s just coincidence.’ She looked at the photo of the shop-opening again and her frown deepened. ‘I mean—Angelo can’t have any connection to a world-famous brand-name—can he?’

  Could she really not know? Drago found it difficult to believe that she was unaware of Angelo’s identity.

  ‘Our great-grandfather founded Cassa di Cassari shortly after the First World War. After our fathers were killed in an accident I inherited a seventy per cent stake of the company. Angelo owns a thirty per cent share.’

  Drago’s eyes narrowed when Jess Harper made a startled sound. Either she really had not known the true extent of his cousin’s wealth or she was a good actress. Perhaps she was wishing she had ‘borrowed’ more money from Angelo, he thought cynically. But for now the question of how she had got her hands on Angelo’s inheritance fund wasn’t important. He simply wanted to get her to Italy as quickly as possible. There would be time for questions once his cousin had regained consciousness.

  She thrust his phone at him. ‘I don’t understand what’s going on, or why Angelo lied to me, but he isn’t here. He left a couple of days ago without saying where he was going and I have no idea where he is. I’m afraid I can’t help you.’

  She began to close the door, but with lightning reaction Drago jammed his foot in the doorway.

  ‘He’s in hospital, fighting for his life.’

  Jess froze. Her anger and incomprehension that Angelo had not been honest with her faded and she felt as if an ice cube had slithered down her spine. She was shocked to hear that he had a family and dumbstruck by the revelation that he was connected to the famous Cassa di Cassari luxury Italian homeware brand. The whole thing was unbelievable, and if it wasn’t for the photo of him on Drago Cassari’s phone she would have assumed it was a case of mistaken identity. But the news that Angelo was in hospital was more shocking than anything.

  ‘Why…? I mean, is he ill?’ She felt guilty that she had not reported Angelo missing. He was a nice guy, and she should have realised that he would not have moved out of her flat without saying goodbye.

  ‘He was in a car accident. He suffered a serious head injury and has been unconscious for three days.’

  Drago Cassari spoke in a controlled voice, but when Jess looked closely at him she saw lines of strain around his eyes.

  She felt sick as she pictured Angelo the last time she had seen him, the evening before he had disappeared. She had cooked dinner—only omelettes, which was all her limited culinary skills could manage—and he had been flatteringly appreciative and afterwards helped with the washing up. She had been surprised to find he was gone the following morning, but she had assumed he was used to being alone, just as she was, and hadn’t thought to inform her he was going away. As the days had passed she had started to worry, though—independent as he was, he was still young.

  Drago Cassari’s voice cut into her thoughts. ‘I’ve come to ask if you will visit him in hospital. The longer he remains unconscious the more chance there is that he will have permanent brain damage.’

  ‘He’s that seriously hurt?’ Jess swallowed as she imagined Angelo injured and unconscious. A memory flashed into her mind of seeing Daniel in Intensive Care after he had been knocked off his push-bike by a speeding car. He had looked so peaceful, as if he was asleep, but the nurse had said he was only being kept alive by the machine that was breathing for him and that he was showing no signs of brain activity. Jess had understood that Daniel was seriously injured but she hadn’t expected him to die. He had only been sixteen. Even eight years later, thinking about it brought a lump to her throat.

  Could Angelo die? The thought was too awful to contemplate, but from his cousin’s grave expression it was clearly a possibility.

  ‘Of course I’ll visit him,’ she said huskily. She had no idea why Angelo had told her he was alone and destitute, but the mystery of why he had lied wasn’t important when his life was at risk.

  She stared at the man who said he was Angelo’s cousin and saw a faint resemblance between the two men. Both had olive skin and dark, almost black hair. But, unlike Angelo’s untidy curls, Drago Cassari’s hair was straight and sleek, cut short to reveal the chiselled bone structure of his features. And whilst Angelo could be described as boyishly attractive, with his soulful eyes and gentle smile, his older cousin was the most striking, lethally sexy man Jess had ever met.

  His face was cruelly beautiful—hard and angular, with slashing cheekbones and eyes the colour of ebony beneath he
avy brows. His jaw was square and his mouth unsmiling, yet the curve of his lips was innately sensual. Jess could not stop staring at his mouth—could not prevent herself from wondering what it would feel like to be kissed by him. She knew without understanding how she knew that his lips would be firm and he would demand total capitulation to his mastery.

  Her wayward thoughts were so unexpected that she almost gasped out loud. Her gaze was drawn upwards to his eyes and she saw something flicker in their inky-dark depths that evoked a curious dragging ache deep in her pelvis. Shaken, she looked away from him and snatched a breath.

  ‘Of course I’ll come to the hospital,’ she repeated. ‘I’ll just get some clothes on.’

  As the words left her mouth she became acutely conscious that she was naked beneath her bathrobe. She stiffened as Drago Cassari subjected her to an intent scrutiny. She had the feeling that he was mentally stripping her, and she clutched the edges of the robe together, hoping he could not guess how fast her heart was beating.

  The glitter in his dark eyes warned her that he was fully aware of his effect on her. She felt herself blush and wondered why she was behaving so strangely. She worked in an all-male environment and was regarded as ‘one of the lads’ by her team of workmen. Only once in her life had she been sexually attracted to a man, and the experience had left her with emotional scars that would never completely heal. Since then she had been too busy with her job to have time for relationships—and maybe too scared, she acknowledged honestly. She did not respond to men on a sexual level, and she was shocked by her reaction to a stranger—even if he was the sexiest man she had ever laid eyes on.

  Drago Cassari wasn’t a stranger; he was Angelo’s cousin, she reminded herself. She felt ashamed for indulging in inappropriate thoughts about him when Angelo was in a critical condition. Taking a deep breath, she ignored the unsettling thought that she did not want to be alone with a man who exuded such raw sexual magnetism and pulled the door open fully to allow him to enter her flat.

  ‘Do you want to come in and wait? It’ll only take me a minute to change.’

  ‘Thank you.’ He stepped through the doorway and instantly seemed to dominate the narrow hall. He must be several inches over six feet tall, Jess estimated. The fact that he was dressed entirely in black—jeans, shirt and leather jacket—accentuated his height and powerful physique. Standing so close to him, she caught the sensual musk of his aftershave, and she felt a tingling sensation in her nipples as they hardened and rubbed against the towelling robe.

  Horrified that she seemed powerless to control her reaction to him, she led the way down the hall and ushered him into the sitting room. ‘If you would like to wait in here, I won’t be long.’

  ‘While you are getting ready I’ll call the hospital for an update on Angelo’s condition.’ He glanced up from his phone. ‘I hope your passport is valid.’

  Halfway out of the room, Jess paused and gave him a bemused look. ‘Why do I need my passport to visit a hospital? Where is Angelo, anyway? The Royal Free Hospital is the closest to here.’ She hesitated. ‘But I don’t know where the accident happened. Was it locally?’

  Drago had walked across the spacious sitting room to stand by the window. The view of the leafy suburb of Hampstead was charming. Glancing around the room, he was impressed with the excellent quality of the décor and furnishings, which reinforced his opinion that Jess Harper must have a lucrative career to be able to afford this stylish apartment.

  He turned his head and it seemed to Jess his black eyes bored into her very soul. ‘It happened in Italy,’ he said flatly. ‘On the highway between the airport and Venice. I assume Angelo was coming home, but he never made it. He’s being cared for at a hospital in Mestre, which is on the mainland of Venice.’

  His phone buzzed and he looked down at the screen. ‘I’ve had a message to say that my plane has been refuelled. Can you be ready to leave for the airport in five minutes?’

  CHAPTER TWO

  ‘AIRPORT!’ AS THE meaning of Drago Cassari’s words slowly sank in Jess shook her head. ‘I can’t go to Venice!’

  In a minute she would wake up and find she’d been having a crazy dream, she thought dazedly. Maybe the six double-shot espressos she’d drunk during the day instead of eating a proper lunch were causing her to have strange hallucinations—because this could not be happening.

  ‘Don’t you care about Angelo? I thought you had a close relationship with him.’

  Drago’s harsh voice broke the silence, forcing Jess to accept that he was not a figment of her imagination.

  ‘Of course I care that he’s hurt,’ she said quickly. ‘But I wouldn’t say that we have a close relationship, exactly. I’ve only known him since he started working for me about two months ago.’

  ‘He worked for you?’ It was Drago’s turn to look puzzled. ‘What kind of work? I was informed that you are a painter.’ Into his mind flashed a startling image of his cousin posing for her. ‘Did Angelo model for you?’

  ‘Hardly,’ Jess said drily. Crossing the room, she took a business card from the desk and handed it to him. ‘I paint houses, Mr Cassari, not masterpieces.’

  The card read ‘T&J Decorators’ and gave a phone number and a website address. Drago glanced at it and then looked back Jess, struck once again by her petite stature and fragile build. The notion that she was a manual labourer was ridiculous.

  ‘Do you mean you are an interior designer for this decorating company? Or do you deal with office administration? I find it hard to believe that you actually paint walls for a living.’

  Jess was irritated by the note of disdain she was sure she heard in his voice. ‘I do some general decorating, but as a matter of fact I’m a trained chippie—a carpenter,’ she explained when he frowned. ‘I also act as site foreman and make sure that my workmen finish their contracts on time and follow safety procedures.’

  His black brows lifted. ‘It seems an unusual career choice for a woman.’

  She was tempted to tell him that very few careers were available to someone who had flunked school and failed to gain any academic qualifications. She would have loved to train to be an interior designer, but most people working in the industry had an art degree, and she had more chance of flying to the moon than going to university.

  ‘And you’re saying that you employed Angelo as a decorator?’ Now Drago’s tone was sceptical. ‘Why would he choose to work as a labourer when he belongs to one of the wealthiest families in Italy?’

  ‘You tell me.’ The situation was growing more bizarre by the minute, Jess thought. ‘I took him on because I was short of staff. To be honest he was pretty hopeless at decorating, but he said he had no money and nowhere to live and I felt sorry for him. I told him he could stay with me until he could afford to rent his own place.’

  Drago’s expression became blatantly cynical. ‘Why would you do that for someone you barely knew?’

  ‘Because I know what it’s like to reach rock-bottom.’ Unbeknown to Jess her eyes darkened to deep jade as she recalled the despair she had once felt. There had been a time when she had felt she had nothing to live for—until her wonderful foster-parents had given her a home and a future.

  She had sensed despair in Angelo and had wanted to help him as she had been helped by Margaret and Ted Robbins. But now she felt a fool. Why had he made up all that stuff about being poor and homeless when, according to Drago Cassari, Angelo came from a wealthy family?

  She stared at Angelo’s cousin, her mind reeling. ‘How do you know about me?’ she demanded, unsettled by his statement that he had been given information about her. It almost sounded as though he had asked someone to investigate her. The situation was so unreal that anything seemed possible.

  He gave a noncommittal shrug. ‘Angelo spoke about you to his mother, and obviously he gave her the address of where he was living in London.

  ‘Oh…yes, I suppose he would have done.’

  Drago studied Jess Harper speculatively for a few
moments. He had no intention of revealing that he knew Angelo had given her money. He did not understand what was going on, and until he had more facts he did not want to give away too much. He checked his watch. ‘We need to be going.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t go with you.’ Jess bit her lip. She felt terrible about Angelo, but disappearing off to Italy simply wasn’t an option. ‘I have a business to run—we’re behind schedule on our current contract and I can’t—’

  ‘He spoke your name.’ Drago cut her off in a driven voice. His accent was suddenly very pronounced, as if he was struggling to control his emotions. ‘This morning Angelo roused very briefly and he asked for you.’

  He walked towards her, his midnight-dark eyes never leaving her face. ‘You might be his best hope of recovery. Hearing your voice might be the key that will release him from his prison and bring him back to his family.’

  Jess swallowed. ‘Mr Cassari…’

  ‘Drago,’ he said huskily. ‘You are Angelo’s friend, so I think we should dispense with formalities.’

  He halted in front of her and Jess had to tilt her head to look up at his face. She felt overwhelmed by his height and sheer physical presence. Her heart slammed against her ribs when he laid a finger lightly across her lips to prevent her from speaking.

  ‘Please, Jess. Angelo needs you. I need you to come with me. I think of him as my brother, even my son—for since his father died I have tried to be a father to him.’

  Dear heaven, how could she refuse such a heartfelt entreaty? The raw emotion in Drago’s voice made Jess’s heart ache. Only a few days ago she had listened to Angelo playing his guitar, but now he was fighting for his life. She thought of Daniel, who had never regained consciousness. Surely if there was a chance she could help Angelo she must try?