The Devil to Pay (3 page)

“She’ll be back soon,” he called out to the children. “With presents, I expect
.
”

He withdrew silently to his side of the car as they pulled off. Rianna took a sharp breath, irritated about
the handbag incident and annoyed with herself for not realising that,
of course,
Daniel Bracchi would be in the car, too. What did she expect? Two cars?

Honest to God.

She craned her neck out of the window and waved until the trio were reduced to specks on the horizon and then disappeared completely as the car turned out of Oliver Street into town.

****

“You’ll miss them, I guess?” Daniel said, as he tapped methodically at his keyboard. He’d noticed she’d looked a little sad as she’d closed the window. “They’re cute.”

She placed the palms of her hands firmly down on her thighs and pressed her lips together. “Of course I will, but they’ll be fine with my gran.”

Daniel ticked off imaginary boxes in his mind: two children already, the shop assistant was spot on. He was rapidly building up a picture of this woman. “Beautiful dark eyes,” he replied without looking at her.

“They’re half-Malaysian,” Rianna replied curtly and shot him a defiant glare. “They stick out a bit in Taff’s Weir, I grant you, but we’ve all grown used to it.”

Daniel’s squeezed his eyebrows together as he focused on the computer screen. His analytical mind formed a collage of possible events and scenarios, slotting in the information he already had, downloading every tense movement of her body, each sharp breath she took. The rational side of his brain urged him to bypass the human detail. This was work,
she
was work. She was also a mother, a partner and… pregnant. She had history. She was trouble. He should just forget it. But for some reason, he couldn’t let it go.

“So their dad will be back tonight to take over?” He eased the lid of the laptop down and
folded it into a panel in front of him.

“No. No, he won’t…not for some time. If ever.” Her eyes blazed straight ahead, like silver arrows blasting into the back of Gianpiero’s head. “But life goes on. So how did it go with the dishwasher in the end?”

Daniel was impressed by her slick refusal to elaborate on her personal life and the way she had turned the focus directly back on to him. Smart. He also congratulated himself on successfully confirming Mr. Malaysia was well and truly off the scene. This meant, this meant nothing much at all as far as he was concerned, but it proved she was as feckless as she had been described in KostKrunch, and was a licentious single mother of two already
.
“So it definitely
is
you?” he said, feeling suddenly and inexplicably weary.

“I’m afraid it is, Mr. Bracchi.” She looked awkward as he passed her the mug of coffee he had just poured from a chrome flask. She coughed lightly. “Were the cigarettes for your grandmother as well? Or for someone else maybe?”

“Might they not have been for me?” He sipped carefully at the hot liquid as tendrils of steam rose from his cup.

“You smell far too nice to be a smoker,” she replied and then her cheeks flushed before hurriedly adding, “I mean, I haven’t seen a trace of a cigarette around you thus far, whereas Tomos…”

“You know my
father
?”

“Of course I do! Tomos has been coming to the quarry ever since I can remember. He was there on my very first day. Tea, strong with three sugars and only milk chocolate biscuits, never the plain ones. And always a great big cigar.”

He nodded, that was his old man, all right, but she wasn’t getting off the hook so lightly. “Do you really think I smell nice?”

Her cheeks flared with more colour. “I was just being polite.”

Daniel noted the look of discomfort, forcing her to stare at her knees, and decided not to hound her any further. He’d thought she’d be more of a natural flirt...but whatever. He’d resume that particular game later, delve into the disgusting mysteries of her private life until he was completely satisfied.

“I’m afraid the cigarettes were for Nonna, my grandmother. I do nag her to give up, but she’s been doing it quite happily for over sixty years, so I guess there’s not much point now. It makes her happy. As do her awful cats.”

“Not an animal lover then?” Rianna glanced quickly at a heavy lash of rain on the window.

“No, well, yes actually, I like animals, but,” he couldn’t stop his lip curling with disgust, “just not those two little
porcos
.”

When she turned her face back to his, he felt sure she was suppressing a smile at his expense. “They can’t be so bad,” she murmured.

“They’re disgusting, semi-feral. They spit, they spray,
Dio
! Nonna even has a litter tray in the kitchen.” He frowned when he saw she was breaking into a grin. It irritated him. He barked a quick instruction in Italian to Gianpiero through the intercom.

He’d had enough of this conversation for now, but he would have the last word. “Please don’t laugh at me, Miss Peters. I don’t find it particularly funny.”

****

Even his angry nostrils were beautiful, Rianna thought as she stole a glance at him working. Her gaze hovered over the angles of his stern profile, and the sensuous curve of his mouth. He was almost too gorgeous to be real.

To her surprise, his head suddenly snapped round and his cobalt eyes locked with hers in a tense moment of mutual examination. “Shall we discuss work?” he said briskly, making it feel like an admonishment for her staring at him.

“If you like,” Rianna replied and did her best thin-lipped “career woman” smile. He might be gorgeous, but it looked like he would be bloody hard work in every other respect.

“We will work until six,” he added gruffly.

“Whatever you say.” Rianna silently bit the inside of her cheek with the pressure and before she could stop herself, added, “I’m not afraid of hard work.”

“I know.”

Rianna felt herself bristle as he held her fast with his interrogative stare. “You do?”

“I do.”

She was beginning to feel annoyed. “Do you know everything about me?”

“Enough for now and you fascinate me obviously, but what I really need to know is what you propose as far as the quarry is concerned. We’ve been made an extremely good offer to sell and since profits last year were non-existent, I’m inclined to lean in that direction.”

You fascinate me obviously.

Sarcastic bastard.

She could handle it, but felt a smart of hurt all the same. Sticks and stones. She’d have to toughen up for the duration of this trip, too much rested on her getting everything right. “As you are no doubt aware, most of the limestone within ten miles of the quarry has been used up over the last eighty years, and it’s virtually impossible to get planning for greenfield quarries these days.
So
we need to develop our existing reserves—”

Daniel shifted in his seat with a short grunt, which sounded like disinterest. “And presumably we’ve not done so because it’s cost-prohibitive?”

Rianna controlled her irritation at his rude interruption. “I’ll get to the figures in a moment,” she replied curtly and stared straight ahead to avoid any look of recrimination coming her way. “We know we can extend the life of the quarry by thirty years if we can get access to the new seam discovered recently. The problem we have is the beech woodland surrounding us on three sides. It’s been designated a special area of conservation. There’s also a community action group up in arms about the lorries. They’ve had enough of the trucks and would fight hard against an increase in traffic.”

Daniel’s stony face took on a decidedly smug look. “So we sell up to the oligarch down the road and let him re-employ you all in his filter factory?”

“Absolutely not! We build a tunnel.”

His brow wrinkled into incredulous disbelief. “Right.”

To Rianna’s intense annoyance, he slowly shook his head. She could feel her blood pressure rising, but before she could react, a sharp beeping sound made Daniel reach into his jacket pocket for his mobile phone. Its palm-sized sleek beauty matched the car perfectly. Boys and toys, Rianna thought sourly.

Daniel silently stared up at the creamy, leather-lined roof of the car, as if he was thoroughly bored, and then his expression darkened. He snapped in Italian to his driver once again, sharp phrases, some questioning, the rest expressing deep displeasure. Rianna stared out of the window to give the impression she wasn’t listening, to give him privacy for his call, which was absurd as she couldn’t understand a word he was saying. But she
could
almost taste the tension giving his face the look of cold granite and infusing every one of his movements with simmering anger. It would be a long and uncomfortable journey she realised as the car surged ahead into thick, violet, swirling mist.

“Our plans have changed,” he bit out. “Fog, wind, a backlog of slots, and a few security concerns mean we can’t fly this evening. We’re grounded.” He raked his hands through his hair. “However my PA has arranged accommodation with suitable transfer facilities for us, so we should be able to leave at first light and catch up on our schedule.”

He wrenched out his laptop and battered the keyboard in brooding silence for the next hour of their journey.

****

Rianna craned her neck to admire the elaborate décor of Titherly Hall, their destination for the night. Its heavily plastered ceilings were art forms in themselves and she was captivated by the enormous glittering chandeliers blazing like starbursts above them. She ran her fingers over the intricately carved, dark wooden fixtures that glowed from years of polishing with beeswax, and her heels clicked deliciously on the black and white tiled floor of the entrance hall.

“I must apologise for the inconvenience.” Daniel’s mouth flickered with a stiff smile, a coordination of muscular movements which didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s not the first time the weather in this damn country has caused me problems.”

“Just as well, I’m used to it then,” Rianna quipped cheerfully as it occurred to her that every cloud had a silver lining. She’d never been in such an exclusive place. From the outside, it reminded her of pictures she’d seen of Balmoral Castle, and the interior had all the sophistication and glamour of an art deco film set.

He really was grumpy about it all though, she noted. Every bit as oppressive and stormy as the precipitation outside. His mood cast a shadow everywhere, particularly affecting the receptionist who fiddled nervously with their key cards. “I must say this is the nicest hotel I’ve ever set foot in,” she said. It was the
only
hotel she had ever set foot in.

“I suppose it could be much worse.” He looked over his shoulder at his surroundings and then instructed the concierge to deal with their luggage. “Listen, go up to your room and get sorted. I’ll see you before dinner in the bar. Shall we say in an hour?”

“Okay,” Rianna replied. “But I can get down a lot sooner—”

“No,” he muttered quickly. “I’ve some emails and calls to catch up on. So have a rest, a bath, a manicure or something.”

Daniel’s cold dismissal stung a little as Rianna ascended the sweeping staircase to her room. The red and gold patterned carpet crushed silently like petals beneath her black court shoes and she enjoyed the new and luxurious sensation. He was a very busy man, she reminded herself and
he
had been horribly inconvenienced by this detour, not her.

A chiming antique clock at the top of the stairs filled the stairwell with a slow and sombre toll. It was six in the evening. The children would have been bathed and were now probably snuggled on the sofa with Gran. She checked her mobile for messages and there was nothing. No missed calls or unnoticed texts...everything was fine.

The bellboy swiped his passkey to open a heavy oak door and gestured for her to enter. This was no simple
room.
it was a luxurious suite with a four-poster bed and elaborate drapes framing an enormous mullioned window. Rianna suppressed her wonder and fumbled for the zip on her handbag. She sensed a tip was in order judging by the way the bellboy hovered.

Rianna put the bag on a marble console and began to rummage in it. “Bear with me a moment.”

“No, no, miss!” The young man looked alarmed. “Mr. Bracchi rewards us well. Please. Enjoy. It is a pleasure for Titherly Hall to have you both here as such important guests.” His smiling face disappeared as the door swung silently shut.

There was now a deep, heavy silence. A warm hush. A blanket of solitude.

Rianna made her way to the imposing window framing the cold black night, and held her breath because it was so terrifyingly stormy. She stroked the red velvet drape as she peered into the darkness and saw an illuminated circle of closely cropped grass, the resting place for a menacing black helicopter. Rain and hail lashed the rotor blades, bouncing off them into the lamplight like sharp diamonds. The only human activity was down to the porter, who was hurriedly feeding a large security dog in the gravelled quadrangle nearby.

There were some who would say
she
belonged down there, she thought wryly, much nearer to the tradesman’s entrance than she was presently. She recalled the breathtaking splendour of the 15th century building as they had entered the vast grounds at dusk, centuries of history, decades of privilege and by virtue of that, a ton of servitude. How many times had her father warned her not to long for things she would never have? How often had he told her that wishing for things to be different was as good as wishing your real self away? And he really believed it too, constantly reinforcing the fact, chasing dreams would reduce her to nothing in the end, just like it had with him.

To hell with all that.