Diavolo

Chapter 7

For a full, paralyzing minute, Elyse froze like an idiot, gaping at him. A pair of ratty underwear and an ugly cotton bra dangled awkwardly from her hands. This was surreal. It felt unreal.

Yet, there he stood in the flesh.

In a fully recovered state of health, the brown-and-blue-gray-eyed man appeared even more beautiful than Elyse remembered. His bronzed skin glowed with vigor. Strength and authority thrummed from his very core, but his sudden appearance in this remote chalet, in fucking Crans-Montana, Switzerland, of all places, sent her reeling with wretchedness and dread.

Wretchedness—over the realization that she, like a senseless fly, had flown herself four thousand miles across the Atlantic only to land in the nebulous web of an even more dangerous spider than Stefano. The scope of her stupidity triggered a nauseating sickness in Elyse. She wanted to vomit.

Then, there was the dread—over her body's instant reaction to this man's mesmerizing presence. Heat crept over her skin. He pulled her to him as though they were being drawn together by a coiling, ever-tightening thread. It seemed their months-long separation had done nothing to cool her wayward hormones. He was still very capable of wreaking havoc upon her senses.

Elyse's jaw clenched with shame. Her father's words echoed chidingly through her head.

Not everything that shines is gold, mija.

As her gaze swept over his flawless form yet again, Elyse resented her attraction to him. More than ever. She began to retrace all the missteps that had led her to this predicament. Desperation to escape from Stefano had made her reckless. The promise of a new life, a better life, in Zurich had skewed her judgment.

She studied the man closely. His expression remained calm and impassive. Too calm. Too impassive. He didn't seem surprised to see her at all. Suspicion coursed through Elyse.

Had this fucker been masquerading as her secret employer all along?

Was he the elusive Mr. Vitale?

It was wholly possible. Elyse hoped her theory would prove to be wrong, but instinct screamed otherwise. This whole situation was beginning to feel like a very elaborate and intentional trap.

As the pieces of this fucked up puzzle tumbled into place, Elyse wondered why anyone would go through the trouble of luring a nobody like her overseas under the guise of a job offer?

What was he trying to achieve?

She hated being manipulated. She hated feeling like a pawn. White-hot outrage coursed through Elyse's veins, but she didn't succumb to its turbulence. She needed to stay calm. She wanted to uncover this man's true intentions before planning her next move.

With a mask of indifference, Elyse gave him a quick once over from head to toe. "I see you've made an excellent recovery."

"I owe it all to you, angelo," he replied with a smile.

"I'm happy to see that you're alive and well," she said coolly, "but I wasn't expecting to run into you again. Here. In Crans-Montana."

"The universe works in miraculous ways."

She shot him a dubious look. "This whole situation feels more man-made than miraculous. Don't you think?"

The man who made this whole situation happen chose not to comment on her accusation. Instead, his gaze drifted over to the undergarments that were still in her hands. "Those relics ought to be discarded. I will buy you new ones."

Did she hear him correctly?

Her cheeks flushed with indignation. "Excuse me?"

There was a teasing gleam in his eyes. "You work for me now. Image is everything."