Captive in His Castle Read Online Free PDF

sardonically.
    It was dark outside, but through the glass doors Jess could see a large crowd of shadowy figures moving around. ‘Let me take your bag,’ Drago ordered, lifting her rucksack from her shoulders. He looked surprised when he felt how light it was. ‘There can’t be much in here. I told you to bring clothes for a few days, in case Angelo doesn’t immediately respond to your voice.’
    It was only natural that he was concerned for his cousin, but
jeez
, he was bossy! Jess lifted her chin. ‘I’ve brought everything I own that isn’t covered in paint. I don’t have many clothes.’
    ‘Or any that fit properly, seemingly,’ he drawled as he raked his eyes over her too-small tee shirt and lingered on her breasts.
    To her horror Jess felt her nipples harden, and knew they must be clearly visible beneath her clingy top. She wished she had made a better search for one of the few bras she possessed, which had inconveniently disappeared from her underwear drawer. She rarely wore a bra because she felt more comfortable working without one, but she had not bargained on her body’s embarrassing reaction to Drago. Against her will her gaze was drawn to his, and her heart jolted against her ribs when she saw the unmistakable glint of sexual awareness in his black eyes.
    This could not be happening, she thought dazedly. A few hours ago it had just been an ordinary day—until a darkly handsome stranger had turned up at her flat. Now she had been whisked to Italy on a private jet to visit Angelo, who was not the penniless migrant he had led herto believe but a member of the hugely wealthy Cassari family. Even more disturbing was the way she reacted to Angelo’s cousin. She hated how her body responded to Drago’s virile masculinity. Not since she had dated Sebastian Loxley had she felt so unsettled by a man. The memory of her one brief love affair—although it could hardly be called that, because Seb had never loved her—served as a stark reminder of why she needed to ignore her dangerous attraction to Drago.
    He was watching her from beneath hooded eyelids that hid his expression, so that she had no idea what he was thinking. Just then the door behind him opened, and as he turned his attention to the thickset man who appeared Jess released her breath on a shaky sigh.
    The man spoke to Drago in rapid Italian. He replied in the same language and then glanced back at Jess. ‘The car is outside. Let’s get this over with,’ he growled.
    To Jess’s shock he gripped her arm and pulled her close to his side. She was intensely conscious of his hard body pressed against hers, and the sensual musk of his aftershave swamped her senses. But then he opened the door and she was blinded by an explosion of bright flashing lights.
    Despite the efforts of the bodyguard the reporters closed in on them like a pack of wolves, and a cacophony of voices shouting words she did not understand bombarded her ears. It seemed like a lifetime until they reached the black limousine waiting with its engine already running.
    Drago pulled open the car door. ‘Get in and we’ll soon be away from this madness.’ He swore when he saw her struggling to climb inside with the guitar still strapped to her back. ‘
Madonna!
Was it necessary to bring this with you?’ he muttered as he tugged the strapover her shoulder. He pushed her into the seat and thrust the guitar onto her lap before sliding into the car after her. ‘Are you expecting Angelo to wake at the sound of your strumming? I think you must have watched too many romantic films.’
    ‘Hearing music might rouse him,’ Jess snapped, infuriated by his sarcasm. ‘The guitar isn’t mine; it’s Angelo’s. I thought he would like to have it with him when he regains consciousness. You
must
know how much his guitar means to him?’
    ‘I didn’t know he could play an instrument,’ Drago said bluntly.
    ‘But he plays all the time, and he’s a brilliant guitarist. He told me his dream is