LITMIR.BIZ

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was probably a good idea, not to mention a load or two of washing and a bed linen change before she arranged to travel back to Zurich.

      What she hadn’t expected to find was a rather nasty eviction notice and a demand for six weeks’ rent in arrears, with a letter written in Italian that looked as if it was from a lawyer. But what Ally couldn’t understand was why her sister had neglected to pay the rent, for as she was folding Alex’s clothes in the bedroom she had come across a large amount of money, tied in neat bundles and placed inside a jacket pocket. Uncertain of what to do with such a sum, Ally had placed it in her handbag until she could consult her sister.

      The doorbell rang again, this time with a little more force, so Ally pushed the papers and the rest of her sister’s unpaid bills to one side and, giving the newly made-up bed a quick straighten, made her way to the front door. She opened it to find a tall, dark-haired man standing there, his stance autocratic and his gaze very determined as it locked down on hers.

      ‘Mrs Alexandra Sharpe?’

      Ally stared back at the bottomless brown eyes boring down into hers and felt a shiver of apprehension shimmy up her spine. ‘Look… if it’s about the rent I can explain—’

      He slanted one dark eyebrow at her. ‘Don’t tell me you have forgotten me already?’ he said. ‘I know we only met the once, but surely I am not that forgettable?’

      ‘Um… I… Um…’ Ally was at a loss for words.

      ‘Perhaps I should refresh your memory?’ he said with a contemptuous set to his mouth. ‘You gate-crashed a business function my brother-in-law Rocco Montano and I attended three weeks ago. Your behaviour created quite a stir. Had I known then what I know now I would have personally evicted you from the premises, instead of engaging Security to do it for me.’

      Ally stared at him with wide eyes. She wasn’t sure if she should tell him who she was or go along with his assumption that she was Alex. She suddenly felt as if she was on a set of delicately balanced scales. A tilt one way could clear away the confusion; the other could cause catastrophic results…

       Or would it?

      Once the thought had blossomed in her brain she couldn’t quite get rid of it. Had Alex ever mentioned to her lover about having an identical twin? she wondered.

      She stared at the man’s classically handsome features as her heart did a hopscotch routine in her chest. ‘You seem sort of vaguely familiar,’ she said, to fill the silence.

      ‘May I come in?’ he asked, although Ally felt it was more of a command than a request.

      She opened the door and he moved past her before she could balance the scales of reason in her scrambled brain.

      He was very tall, towering over her five foot eight height, and he had long legs and broad shoulders which were a perfect hanger for the Italian designed suit he was wearing. His neither long nor short casually styled black hair was as glossy as a raven’s wing, brushed backwards—although not willingly, it seemed, as a thick strand seemed to fall forward across his forehead almost every time he moved. One of his hands moved upwards to shove it back, the action so automatic Ally couldn’t help feeling it was almost unconscious. He probably did it a hundred times a day and didn’t realise.

      His eyes were a brownish black, fringed with thick sooty lashes that acted like a screen over his fathomless gaze as it collided with hers. He was the most strikingly handsome man she had ever met. He exuded power and male potency from every olive-toned pore of his body. His mouth was full and sensual, his blade of a nose distinctly Roman. However, his strongly chiselled jaw had a hint of stubborn arrogance about it, as if he liked his own way and did everything he could to achieve it.

      ‘My name, in case you have forgotten, is Vittorio Vassallo,’ he said. ‘But I think I do not need to tell you why I am here, sì?’

      Ally felt her skin involuntarily tighten at the sound of that deep velvet-toned voice, its clear-cut diction indicating English was not his preferred tongue even though he spoke it fluently, as if he had been educated abroad. Oxford or Cambridge, she guessed. His name rang a tiny bell at the back of her brain. On the flight over from Sydney she had read an article about a high-flying Italian billionaire fund manager who had a reputation as an international playboy. Looking at him now, Ally could see why women all over the world fell over themselves to be his mistress.

      ‘Um… now is not really a good time…’ she faltered.

      He hooked one dark brow upwards in a derisory arc. ‘You have another commitment right now?’

      She rolled her lips together before moistening them with the tip of her tongue. ‘Um… no, but I don’t see what possible reason you could have for being here.’

      ‘Do you not?’ The dark brow was still slanted upwards, the black-brown gaze unwavering as it held hers.

      Ally knew she should probably tell him who she was. Now was the time, before things went any further, but for some reason she felt compelled to find out why he was here before she revealed her identity. She wanted to know what he had planned to say to her sister. What would it hurt to step into her sister’s shoes for the next few minutes? Besides, his imperious stance annoyed her. He was looking down at her as if she was a guttersnipe, and that really irked her. Her sister was suffering a mental illness. She did not deserve to be ridiculed or threatened, or at least not while Ally could prevent it. Besides, she wanted to know if he knew what had gone on between his brother-in-law and Alex, and it seemed this was as good a way as any.

      ‘I have no idea why you are here,’ she said, in a deliberately haughty tone.

      A mocking smile tilted his mouth. ‘Rocco warned me you liked to play the dumb blonde role,’ he said. ‘But that is how you get men to do what you want, is it not? You woo them with those dark blue bedroom eyes and that delectable body of yours. No wonder you have the reputation you have. Few men would be able to resist what you have on offer.’

      Ally felt a tinge of pink seep into her cheeks. It was almost laughable, the picture he had painted of her, but she let the charade continue a little longer. She figured it would be worth it to eventually throw his misplaced assumptions back in his supercilious face. She was even starting to enjoy herself. What a shock he would get when he found out he had singled out the wrong target for his disgusting vilification.

      She tilted her hip in a provocative fashion and batted her eyelashes at him. ‘So what do you think I have on offer, Mr Vassallo?’ she asked.

      She watched as his dark and disconcertingly penetrating gaze roved her form from head to foot, slowly, deliberately lingering over the baby blue top that snugly outlined the curves of her breasts, going down over her trim waist and slim jean-clad thighs before returning to her face, all without saying a single word.

      Ally had never felt more acutely aware of her body. She felt as if he had reached out and touched her all over with his long tanned fingers. Every curve, every pleasure point and every secret place felt invaded by his commanding physical presence. Every fine hair on her body lifted, and her skin crawled with a prickly sensation. Her stomach began to dip and dive erratically as her senses were set alight by the slow burn of his dark gaze as it drifted over her in that annoyingly indolent fashion. Her breasts started to swell and tingle beneath the light cotton of her top, and her breathing was choppy, her chest rising and falling like a damaged set of bellows, making her feel lightheaded and terrifyingly out of her depth.

      She suddenly realised there was a photograph on the wall unit behind him. If he turned around he would see how he was being played for a fool. It was one she had given her sister after their twenty-fourth birthday last year, just before Alex had flown to London. Ally had set the camera on remote control and captured them smiling, with their arms wrapped around each other. She remembered Alex had commented at the time how they must have done exactly that in their mother’s womb, curled up like little angels waiting to be summoned to earth. It had been such a happy night of celebrating, just the two of them. Ally had thought back then—was it only a few months ago?—that her sister was finally on the road to recovery.

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