Mistress By Blackmail: International Billionaires I: The Italians Read Online Free Page A

brother. Then she’d start to apply the sugar. In large quantities. “Listen. About me and Matt—”
    “We will not speak of him anymore.”
    He issued commands like a seasoned potentate. Yet she hadn’t grown up rough without realizing how to stand her ground with the best of them. “I came here to specifically speak of Matt. I’m afraid you’re out of luck.”
    “I do not operate with luck.” His dark brows furrowed in distaste. “I make a plan and proceed to carry it out.”
    “Well, bloody good for you,” she muttered. “Listen, you need to know Matt and I—”
    “You will soon find that all my plans are successful. As my plan for you will be.”
    Her hackles burned under her skin. All thoughts of sweetness and light snapped out of her in a crackle of outrage.
    The man might ooze sex and testosterone which called to the very core of her female body, yet he was insufferably, utterly too arrogant for belief. They’d just met. He knew nothing about her. Still, he instantly made a plan which involved her and assumed she’d merrily dance to his tune? He needed to be cut off at the knees by somebody.
    Who better than Ms. Darcy Moran? Fighter extraordinaire?
    “How lucky for you.” She gave him her best, absolute best, fake smile. “I’m breathless with anticipation to find out what your plan is for little old me.”
    She watched with satisfaction as his entire body tensed. Yes, yes. She was good at knocking people down a notch when it was needed. Sugar might be her best weapon, but it wasn’t her only one.
    His mouth tightened in a grim line. No dimples in sight. “I don’t appreciate your sarcasm.”
    “Sorry.” She pouted, taking wicked delight at his frustration. “Can’t help myself.”
    With three swift steps, he rounded his desk and stood right before her. She braced, forcing herself not to step back. The move would be a signal of weakness in this battle of wills. And she wasn’t willing to give in. Not for Matt. Not for herself
    “You play with fire, Ms. Moran,” he muttered the words, a threat intwining through them.
    He stood so close. Too close. An overwhelming desire to touch swept through her. To spread her hands across those broad shoulders. To lean into his strength. To breathe in the scent of his skin. She struggled to remember his arrogance and ignore her lust. “I’m not playing at all, Mr. La Rocca. There is nothing playful about you forcing your brother to marry.”
    His low snarl made her jerk her head up from her contemplation of his broad chest. Her gaze met his. Stormy grey eyes threatened certain disaster. “Matteo is no concern of yours any longer. You will never see him again.”
    Darcy’s mouth dropped open. Not have Matt as a friend anymore? Not have his warm encouragement, his endless support, his unswerving belief in her talent, in her? Her mouth slammed shut. “No way.” She gritted her teeth. “I’m n-n-not going to lose him.”
    Silver fire flashed down on her like cracks of lightning. “From now on you will be too busy with me to have any time for my brother.”
    “With you? What are you talking about?”
    He pointed a long finger at her, then back at himself. “You. Me.”
    She stared at him blankly.
    “Us. Together.”
    Darcy was positive her eyes popped out of her sockets. “Are you crazy?”
    His gaze narrowed. “No.”
    “There is no us. You. M-m-me. Together.” Shame at her inability to control her tongue made the words rushed and touched with the beginning of hysteria. “There’s no way—”
    “I have decided,” he cut her off. “You are with me now. Not Matteo.”
    “What planet are you from?” Her heart rate soared. With outrage. Definitely outrage. “You can’t command people.”
    He gave her a solemn look through his thick lashes. “Actually, I can. I do.”
    “Not me.”
    A whiff of his cologne wrapped around her, a spicy mix of pure temptation overlaying the smell of the man himself. Innately virile, potent. His scent