Page 35 of Bound By The Italian’s 'I Do'

Knowing that to open her mouth and speak would unleash the hellfire burning inside her, Issy had no choice but to follow him.

He walked purposefully, not looking back. The length and speed of his stride meant she had no chance of keeping up, so she set off at her own pace after him. If he refused to give the suitcase back then so be it. She had a bum-bag around her waist with her passport, bank cards and all her cash in it.

As she walked the long jetty, she tried to take in her surroundings. The harbour was small, only a handful of gleaming yachts moored. There were a few impossibly glamorous people in teeny bikinis and swim shorts milling around, all admiring the superyacht and no doubt trying to work out who the disembarking passengers were.

Issy tried so hard to take everything in but her eyes kept betraying her, seeking Gianni instead of seeking possible routes off this beautiful and clearly exclusive island.

He’d changed out of the familiar polo shirt and canvas shorts into a short-sleeved black shirt untucked over smart tan shorts that landed mid-thigh and a pair of brown deck shoes. He might have worn them at breakfast but she couldn’t remember. She’d been too intent on comfort eating and keeping herself together to even dare look at him. Then, as now, she couldn’t decipher the mountain of emotions thrashing through her. Too many. Too frightening to contemplate.

Seeing the fresh clothes he wore only heaped more humiliation on her. Gianni had embarked thePalazzo delle Festewith nothing but the clothes on his back and the items contained in his shorts’ deep pockets. He must have had a stash of clothes locked away in the master cabin she’d been forbidden, by the owner, from entering. Forbidden by Gianni.

How she wished her heart didn’t make such ripples to see the muscles of his calves tighten as he walked and the bunching of the muscles across his back.

And, when Gianni reached the end of the jetty and turned his gaze on her as he waited for her to join him, how she wished the burning ache he’d ignited inside her would douse itself to ash.

For the first time since she’d huddled on the floor of the games room, she was helpless to stop herself from meeting his eye. What she found in his glittering stare only compounded the ripples in her heart, a mirror of the tortured emotions racking her. For one mad moment, a longing ripped through her, for Gianni to cup her face in his hands and press his firm lips to hers and...

It all happened so quickly that there was no time for her to react. A man she hadn’t noticed hovering beside Gianni grabbed hold of her suitcase at the exact same moment Gianni swept her into his arms and deposited her in the back of a black four-by-four car she’d also failed to notice. He quickly folded himself in beside her. The door closed.

‘What are you doing?’ Issy squealed, scurrying to the other door and immediately tugging on the handle. Panic gripped her harder when she found it locked. ‘Let me out!’

‘Soon.’ He tapped on the dark window dividing them from the front of the car.

‘Let me out,now!’ The car started moving. Throwing herself forwards, Issy banged on the dividing window. ‘Stop the car!’

‘They won’t stop.’

She banged again, harder. The glass must be reinforced otherwise her fist would probably have smashed through it.

‘We’re going to my complex. We’ll be there in a few minutes.’

She glared at him and snarled, ‘I’m not going anywhere with you.’

He sighed as if already weary of her anger and rubbed his hand over his ever-thickening stubble. ‘The travel of this car says differently.’

‘If you don’t stop this car and let me out this minute I’ll report you for kidnap.’

‘Any report will have to wait until you leave St Lovells. I’m afraid you will stay here with me until I have word from my cousin that any damage you and your sister have caused our business has been contained and mitigated.’

‘You can’t do that!’

‘I can and I will. It’s not for ever, and I give you my word no harm will come to you.’

‘As if I’d believe a single word that came out of your mouth,’ she spat.

‘That, I believe, is a classic example of a pot calling a kettle black.’

The look Issy gave him reminded Gianni of a wildcat that once made the mistake of hanging around his childhood farmhouse. This was before his mother left so he’d been nine at the most, but he remembered trying to befriend it and having a set of claws swipe his face in response. His bleeding face hadn’t stopped him screaming and begging his father not to drown it. His father had proceeded to drop the cat in the well and then smack Gianni so hard around the back of his head that he’d actually seen the stars beloved of cartoon characters.

‘Youcan’tkeep me here against my will. There are laws, you know.’

He almost felt sorry for her. ‘Bella, Icankeep you here. I can keep you here because this island belongs to me and there is no way for you to leave without my permission.’

CHAPTER TEN

GIANNIHADEXPOSEDIssy for the conniving charlatan hell-bent on his destruction that she was, so why the emotions that passed like a reel over her face made his stomach clench made no sense. The tenderness that kept slamming into him, the longing to gather her tightly and swear on all that was holy that he would never let harm come to her...it could only be caused by sleep deprivation. He should never have spent those insomniac hours looking through the data he’d cloned from her phone. So few contacts. So few photos. So few signs that this young woman had any form of a life that could be called sociable.

He’d read the messages between her and her sister hoping to learn more about their plans but there had been little more to be gleaned, and in any case it was the photos he kept coming back to. Every woman Gianni had dated catalogued every aspect of her life with selfies. He’d got so used to it that he barely even noticed their phones being permanently turned towards themselves. Issy had thirty-three photos stored on her phone. The ice cream sundae screenshot was the oldest. A handful of others were of her sister, who looked no different to the woman he’d last seen at The Ruby barely a week ago.

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