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      To my big sister, Toni.

       Congratulations on achieving your half-century!

       Happy birthday, Sis. Here’s to the next 50 years With much love, Trish xxx

      CHAPTER ONE

      IT WAS a filthy night. Which suited Dante Carrazzo’s filthy mood right down to the ground.

      The BMW’s windscreen wipers struggled to keep pace with the blinding rain, while its headlights picked out little more in the night fog than the ghostly shadows of gum trees looming claw-like over the unfamiliar Adelaide Hills road. If there was a boutique-hotel anywhere in the area, it sure didn’t want to be found.

      Which was probably no surprise, given his plans for it.

      He steered the car tight around another bend, his frustration mounting as his headlights met nothing other than their own reflection over a slick ribbon of road disappearing into the gloom.

      Tiredness tugged at his senses and stung his eyes, eight hours behind the wheel after a full day’s battling to bring the Quinn deal to fruition starting to take its toll. Dante clamped down on the weakness the same way he did any other, forcing himself to alertness. It had been a long time, but he knew this was the right road. It had to be here, hidden under this blanket of fog, somewhere…

      He was past the poorly lit turn-off before he realized it. With a muttered curse, he wheeled the car around at the first opportunity and headed back, pulling the car into the long driveway and towards the distant, eerie glow of lights that heralded his destination.

      Ashton House.

      At last.

      Shrouded in swirling mist, the old mansion turned boutique-hotel looked almost sinister, its windows dark and unwelcoming, the old sandstone walls glowing unnaturally in the muted lantern light. He parked the car, mentally adding to his description the words, “brooding” and “resentful”.

      Almost as if it hated him just as much as he hated every last thing it represented.

      So be it.

      The fog wrapped around him as he stepped from the car, icy droplets stinging his skin. He pulled his bag from the car and strode the few feet to the arched entrance-lobby, leaning against the night bell as he swiped the dampness from his coat. He waited precisely ten seconds before pressing it again.

      ‘I have a reservation,’ he said, brushing past the open- mouthed night clerk into the warm interior the second the door finally opened.

      Behind him he heard the massive timber-panelled door being shut, closing out the swirling mist and cold. ‘I’ll certainly check for you, sir,’ said the clerk, making his way to the polished timber reception-counter. ‘Although I’m afraid we seem to have a full house tonight.’

      Dante fixed the clerk with a stare that would splinter rocks. ‘I hope that doesn’t mean you’ve given my room away.’

      The clerk frowned, his eyes flicking nervously away to his screen. ‘It will only take a moment to check, sir. What name did you say?’

      ‘I didn’t. And it’s Carrazzo. Dante Carrazzo.’

      ‘Ah!’ The clerk straightened as if someone had shoved an iron rod up his spine. Dante caught the smell of fear that came with it. It came as no surprise. All of the staff would be wondering—now that he owned Ashton House lock, stock and barrel—exactly what it was he had in mind for it. All of them would be on tenterhooks.

      He allowed himself a wry smile. Given his reputation, they had a right to be.

      ‘We…we weren’t expecting you tonight, not with all the Melbourne airports closed.’

      ‘Do you have a room for me or not?’ His eyes were stinging again, indigestion burning his stomach. After the day and night he’d had, what he needed right now was a few hours of precious sleep, not a discussion about his travel arrangements. And if they’d given away his room…

      ‘I’m sorry. Of course, sir,’ the night clerk blustered, passing a pen for Dante to sign the register, while at the same time reaching for the room key. ‘Your suite was held. It’s just that we didn’t expect you until morning.’

      ‘Last time I looked,’ he replied

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