‘I didn’t know until tonight that your father had three children. I’d only heard of two.’
That was no surprise. Reg Sanderson never boasted about his boring middle child as he did about his clever son or gorgeous older daughter. Until tonight Ella had been persona non grata.
‘Felicity and Rob are closer to him. Rob even worked for him.’ Until too-close exposure to their father’s business soured his enthusiasm. Rob was a corporate lawyer and Ella suspected he’d seen too much of their father’s business tactics.
‘Yet I haven’t seen photos of you with your sister in the press.’
Ella blinked. ‘You read the social pages?’ He looked the kind of man who only read finance and politics.
‘You’d be surprised what I read.’
She frowned. ‘It matters to you, does it? Who’s seen at high-profile parties?’
‘It matters that I understand people when I’m about to do business with them.’
Ella stiffened. ‘Your business is with my father, not me or Felicity.’
His regard was enigmatic and unblinking. Challenging.
‘You were checking up on her?’
He shrugged. ‘Isn’t it natural that I take an interest in your family?’
Since he planned to marry into it. Her stomach clenched.
‘Did you hire investigators too?’ She whipped around to face him full on.
‘Why would that bother you?’
‘Because it would be an invasion of privacy. It would be—’ she shuddered ‘—intrusive.’
Had there been cameras trained on her sister when she partied? When she and Matthew were together? Ella frowned. Fuzz mightn’t be the best sister in the world but she was the only one Ella had.
‘Did you spy on my sister?’ Ella stepped up to Donato, her hands finding her hips, her bottom lip jutting.
‘Your sister? No.’ He was staring at her mouth.
Crazily, she felt her lips go dry. She swallowed and he watched the movement. How could it feel as if he trailed a finger down her throat when he hadn’t lifted a hand?
Hormones. They danced riotously, making her heart drum against her ribcage and her insides clench needily.
Ella swiped her parched lips with her tongue and wished she hadn’t. His look seared. She wanted to back up a step but he’d know why. She was stuck there, her neck arched to meet his intense scrutiny, her body taut as a spinnaker billowing and snapping in a sudden gale.
She didn’t imagine the turbulence in the air. It was real and it emanated from him.
‘You didn’t hire investigators?’ she pressed.
He shook his head, eyes never leaving hers. ‘No one investigated you or your siblings. Otherwise I’d have known about you before tonight, wouldn’t I?’
Ella drew in a deep breath, searching for calm. Trying to ignore the way her bra scraped her over-sensitive breasts and budding nipples. Trying to concentrate on the conversation, not how this man made her feel.
It took a moment to realise what he hadn’t said.
He’d said nothing about whether he’d had her father investigated.
A sound made her turn. It was a waiter with a laden tray, coming down the stairs. Ella moved towards him. Her throat was dry but more, she craved something to distract her from the sensation of being cut off alone with Donato.
‘Drink, sir? Ma’am?’
‘Champagne, Ella?’ Donato was right behind her. Had she really thought to escape so easily?
‘Water, please.’
‘Sensible choice.’ He took two glasses of sparkling water and nodded his thanks to the waiter, who headed back to the higher terraces. Ella watched him go, wondering what would happen if she simply followed.
That wouldn’t work. She needed to sort this out here, in private, away from curious eyes.
‘Sensible?’ Did he think she’d drink too much then lose her inhibitions?
Donato held out a drink, touching only the bottom of the glass, as if careful of any glancing contact.
Ella was inordinately grateful. Since they’d met she’d felt his presence like a touch—on her lips, her skin, her breasts. She suspected the real thing—his skin against hers—might be her undoing.
Carefully she took the glass. ‘Thanks.’
‘Sometimes it’s wise to keep a clear head. Tonight is one of those times.’
She’d lifted the glass to her lips but paused. Was he talking about her father’s idea that he marry Fuzz? Or did he refer to the swirl of attraction enveloping them?