Bound By Her Ring (4 page)

Jasmine’s eyes flew open, and sat up abruptly with shock. Like in her dream she was oblivious to the water splashing over the sides.

Placing a hand on her rapidly beating heart she looked around the room. Seeing the neatly folded towels and array of miniature bottles, realisation struck she was in her hotel room. Alone.

It hit her then, had she just experienced a dream or a memory flashback? She looked down at her aroused nipples, recalling the feel of his hands. Their gentle touch as they worshipped her. If possible, her nipples puckered even more.

Could, after all this time, her memory be returning? She gazed at her rings, willing them to give her the answer she so desperately desired. They glittered back, mocking her with their hidden knowledge.

Jasmine stepped out of the bath and grabbed one of the luxurious towels hanging from the railing. Briskly she dried herself, catching her breath as she rubbed the soft towelling over her aroused breasts. Discarding the towel she picked up her mint green satin chemise. Slipping it over head, letting the cool fabric slither down her sensitised body.

Walking into the adjoining bedroom she reached for the phone and punched out the extension for her father’s room.

“Pick up,” she muttered drumming her fingers on the bedside table.

When he failed to pick up she hit the disconnect button and in desperation tried his cell phone, only to slam the phone down when his message service answered.

Glancing at the clock in frustration, the illuminated numbers showed it was still well before midnight. It was extremely likely her father would still be downstairs, or perhaps he’d left, after all she’d seen him walk out earlier. She dropped down on the bed, groaning as she realised just how thoughtless she’d been.

“Okay,” she said to herself. “I have two choices. Either I get dressed again and go downstairs and confront him, or wait until the morning.”

Her voice echoed around the room and Jasmine realised how silly she sounded talking to herself.

She shook her head and grimaced at the dull but persistent ache of her head making the choice for her, it would be impossible to confront her father tonight.

Sighing, Jasmine got up and wandered over to the window. Opening the curtains she gazed out at the view, not truly seeing it. She rested her hot forehead on the cool glass. She was emotionally and mentally exhausted but sleep would be elusive. With all that had occurred in the last few hours, the buzzing thoughts would prevent the welcome respite sleep offered.

A dream or a memory?
her mind chanted.

She desperately wanted it to be a memory, she’d felt so safe in Luciano’s arms. She needed it to be a memory. Needed it to mean something. Needed it to show her that her life was starting to get back on track.

She pressed the sides of her head with her fingertips, “Remember, remember.”

Pounding her head would not unlock her memories; it would only increase the pain she was fighting. Letting the curtain fall she turned and headed back to her bed. Slipping between the cool sheets, she reached over and switched the light off.

Sleep took a while coming, but when it did her dreams were full of the tall, dark headed man. The man who claimed to be her husband.

Luciano stood in the ballroom and surveyed the guests still remaining. As far as they were concerned the evening had been a wonderful party. To him, though, it represented an
evening of unfinished business. Where he had let his emotions override his better judgement, and where he, once again, fell under Jasmine’s enchantment. He wouldn’t let that happen again.

He was back in Perth. In the one place where he’d experienced a gamut of emotions. He was back to claim one thing.

His wife.

With Jasmine in her room and Thomas nowhere to be seen he had no reason to linger any longer. He was getting tired of the surreptitious glances he was receiving.

Making his way to the penthouse he left the wasted evening behind, his focus now on the next part of his plan. He contemplated stopping off at Jasmine’s room but the memory of her tired features burned his mind.

Luciano entered his room, shrugging out of his coat, discarding it on the couch. He made his way to the fully stocked bar, grabbed the bottle of scotch, pouring a generous amount into a glass. Raising it to his lips he drank half the contents down in one swallow, the liquid burning fire down his throat.

“What a waste,” he muttered as he released his bow tie and undid his shirt’s top button.

When he’d arrived back in Perth, his only goal had been to start implementing his plan. He had waited impatiently to face the woman who had betrayed him. He wanted the timing to be perfect. His original plans hadn’t turned out as he’d wanted them to, but he was adaptable. It was how he’d achieved so much in his business life.

But when he’d entered the ballroom tonight and had seen Jasmine everything had become blurred. Even now his pulse picked up speed remembering the strong desire he’d had to stride over to her and claim those luscious lips with his. It had taken all his strength,
but he’d succeeded in quenching that desire. She’d looked more beautiful than the last time he’d seen her. She had a fragility about her which she hadn’t had when he’d first met her. But he’d made himself remember what Jasmine had done. How she had acted so mercilessly with no thought of other people’s feelings but her own.

Things had changed, now he was the master holding the controlling hand. But she didn’t know it yet, and he would have the perverse pleasure in slowly exposing his hand.

It was time she knew the reason why he had returned.

Jasmine slammed her office phone down. Where the hell was he? She’d been trying to get hold of him since waking up, left dozens of messages and still nothing. Even his assistant had no idea where he’d disappeared to after the opening. Where was her father?

Her hand hovered over the phone, debating whether to pick it up and try him again. It almost seemed pointless. He’d all but disappeared off the face of the earth. No sooner had she finished the thought when the instrument jangled loudly.

Heart pounding she grabbed it, “Dad?”

A harsh laugh met her question. “Good afternoon
cara
, did you miss me last night? Dream about me perhaps?”

“You wish, Mr Morelli.” Jasmine’s cheeks warmed against her hand. Vivid images from her dreams the night before came rushing back. Bodies entwined, whispered words of love murmured to each other, mouths meshing passionately, her cries of completion echoing in her ears. She’d had no idea if her dreams were memories of past times or were the result of the kisses they’d shared. When she’d woken she’d hoped that maybe her memory may have returned but it was still blank. Not even hot dreams were enough to unlock them. She took a deep breath as her nipples tightened against the softness of her lace bra. She was infinitely glad they were having this conversation on the telephone and not in person.

“Ahh so you
do
recognise me,” came the sardonic reply.

“How could I not. I’ve never known a man more conceited than you.” She picked up her pen and started to tap it on the desk. “Now is there a purpose for your call because I’m busy.”

“You didn’t sound busy when you picked up the phone. In fact you sounded quite, how shall I put it, anxious and for what reason I wonder?”

“No reasons that concern you. So tell me, what do you want?”

“In such a hurry,
cara mia
. I can’t believe you’re that anxious to get back to your work. But if what you do is so important I’ll keep it short. We’re meeting this afternoon at three at the Regent.”

He’d made her position with her father’s company sound as though it was something incidental. A token gesture seeing as she was
’the boss’s’
daughter. He wasn’t the only one who thought that too. But she worked hard in her role, trying to prove to all and sundry she deserved her position and was an asset to her father’s organisation. She’d even work the front desk of any of the hotels she was based at if it was required. Ever since her accident, though, she’d needed to prove to herself she was capable of keeping her life on track. If she could control her job, then her memory loss wasn’t controlling her.

“Do I need to repeat myself Jasmine?”

His harsh tones reminded her of his demand they meet, it was the last thing she wanted to do. “I was consulting my diary, and I’m sorry but I’m afraid it’s impossible to meet you—I have an appointment.”

“Your sincerity astounds me, but cancel it. I want you here, Jasmine and I won’t take no for an answer.” With that he terminated their connection.

She sat for a moment in stunned silence before slowly replacing the receiver.

He’d hung up on her. The nerve of the man, demanding she drop everything and meet with him. Well he had another think coming. There was no way she was going to drop everything and run because he demanded it.

The more she thought about all that had passed in the last twenty-four hours, the more she was convinced her father knew some details of her relationship with Luciano just as he had alluded to last night. If only she could get hold of her father.

Once again she reached for the phone and punched in her father’s number. This time instead of getting his message service, the phone rang. The interminable ringing continued and she was about to hang up when her father answered the phone.

“Anderson.”

“Finally,” she cried. “I’ve been trying all day to get hold of you. Where are you, Dad?”

“I’m in the middle of a meeting. I’ll call you back.”

“Wait.” A disconnection tone greeted her demand.

“What is going on?” she muttered, she’d been hung up on twice within the space of a few moments. Now what should she do?

Should she take the risk and meet with Luciano, not knowing what lay between them. Or should she just ignore his demand and keep on working.

She couldn’t shake the feeling her father was avoiding her. For what reason she didn’t know.

Still mulling over her situation the buzz of the intercom interrupted her musings. Reaching across she depressed the button.

“Yes?”

“There’s a Mr Luciano Morelli here demanding to see you. He doesn’t have an appointment and isn’t going to take no for an answer.”

Somehow his presence in her office didn’t surprise her. It had been less than half an hour since she’d spoken to him. She should’ve realised Luciano Morelli marched to his own tune. The decision had been taken out of her hands and it was up to her to make the most of it.

Sighing she pressed her intercom again. “Send him in.”

She stood and moved over to her window, looking at the view but not really seeing it. Taking a few deep breaths to ready herself for a meeting she didn’t want.

She knew the moment he entered the room. The fine hairs on the back of her neck rose and the familiar tingle fanned its way down her spine. It took all her control not to shiver in reaction.

Taking another deep breath she turned away from the window. She almost stumbled when she caught sight of him leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe. His navy suit was impeccably cut and contoured his body. The fit suggested it had been handmade. He wore a crisp white shirt teamed with an ice blue tie. Everything about him screamed cool and calm and money and power.

By the way her assistant was eyeing him up and down, she found him attractive too. An unfamiliar emotion roared through her blood, it took her a moment to realise what it was—jealousy. The last emotion she wanted to feel around this man.

She pushed the emotion down and walked towards the door. “That will be all, thank you.”

She closed the door swiftly, but not before seeing the look of shock on her assistant’s face. Obviously she hadn’t hidden the emotion too well.

Angry at her absurd jealousy she turned and confronted Luciano.

“Mr Morelli, I was led to believe we had a meeting at three.” She spared a quick glance at her watch. “Unless I’m much mistaken and have lost some time. It’s only one-fifteen. What are you doing here?”

“Is that any way to greet your husband?”

She watched in disbelief as he sauntered over and sat at her desk.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Making myself comfortable,” he swivelled the chair and gazed out the window. “Nice view.”

“Yes it is.” Placing her hands on her hips, she continued. “Now would you please get off my chair, and while you’re at it, explain why you’re here when you demanded my presence at the Regent at three?”

“Let’s just say I wasn’t entirely convinced you were planning on showing up.”

Heat warmed her face in a telltale sign his comment was right on the mark.

“I can see I was right.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

He laughed softly. “The look on your face gives you away every time. It’s not the first time I’ve seen it.”

He was so casual the way he kept alluding to their past as if she would suddenly click her fingers and say
“Oh yes I remember you now. How on earth could I forget you”
. If only it were that easy. If only her father had given her a couple of minutes before hanging up. Anything that may have helped her in this meeting. She was sailing blind and had no idea what to do or how to treat Luciano.

“Yes well, perhaps you’re right. Now can we just get down to business?”

“Very well,” he murmured. “You and I are taking a trip together, Jasmine.”

“I don’t think so.”

He continued as if she hadn’t interrupted. “We leave tomorrow. You’ll need to cancel your appointments for the next two weeks.”

“Two weeks?” Her voice rose in astonishment at his haughty demand. “I can’t leave the office for two weeks.”

“Not my problem. Just make the relevant arrangements and make sure you are packed and at the airport by nine tomorrow morning.”

“Why do you need me to go on this trip with you?”

“I’m meeting with some Japanese delegates of a resort I’m interested in purchasing. As my wife you will accompany me on this and all future business trips.”

“All future trips? I don’t think so. Just where do you get off telling me what to do?”