Contract Wedding, Expectant Bride by Yvonne Lindsay

Author:Yvonne Lindsay
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2016-02-22T16:00:00+00:00

Ten

Rocco let himself into the suite and made his way through to his bedroom. He was exhausted. After the drama of the morning, followed by the rest of the afternoon in meetings, he wanted nothing more than to crawl into his bed and sleep for the next twelve hours.

An investigation was underway, under Andrej Novak’s supervision, with inspectors crawling over the debris that had been pulled from the lake already. Not that there’d been much to find. That end of the lake was deep and there was talk that they’d have to bring in one of the navy’s underwater robots to find and hopefully recover whatever was left of the boat’s hull and engine. But Rocco had his suspicions about what had happened.

His fleets—whether they be air, water or road based—were always immaculately maintained. One system malfunction, well, yes—he could possibly accept that that could happen. But two major faults occurring at the same time? It had to be deliberate, which made it an equally deliberate attempt on his life and that of his courtesan. The knowledge left him with the same sick, helpless feeling of anger as he’d experienced when his sister had been kidnapped only a few short weeks ago.

It was one thing to attack him, but to attempt to take out an innocent at the same time? A growl slipped from his throat and he clenched his hands into tight fists. When he found out who was behind this, they would pay dearly, he vowed silently.

A sound caught his attention and he stiffened, listening carefully, his body poised for another threat. He was surprised to see his courtesan walk toward him from the balcony outside his bedroom—he’d expected her to be fast asleep at this late hour. She was dressed in a floor-length diaphanous white robe, her hair a tangle of wild dark curls that made his fingers flex with the need to feel their texture and dive into their glory. He fisted his hands in his pockets and drew in a steadying breath.

“Ottavia, how are you?”

“More to the point, how are you?” she asked, flicking on one of the bedside lamps before coming nearer and lifting a hand to his brow where a stark white dressing covered the five tiny stitches the doctor had insisted upon.

“Tired, angry, frustrated,” he answered in all honesty. He caught her hand in his and pressed a kiss into her palm. “I hope you are suffering no aftereffects?”

“I am quite fine,” she said, gently pulling free from his clasp but not before he saw the light flush on her cheeks.

She could try as hard as she liked, but she wasn’t immune to him.

“Can I pour you a drink?” she asked, moving toward the ornately carved wooden sideboard that stood against one wall of the bedroom.

“Thank you, I could definitely do with one.”

He watched her graceful movements as she selected two crystal glasses, tumbled ice in each and then poured two generous measures of his finest whiskey.

“Do they know what happened?” she asked, handing him his glass.

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