Sarah Morgan - The Forbidden Ferrara

A Ferrara would never sit down at a Baracchi table for fear of being poisoned.

So Fia had no idea why he was at her restaurant and terror rippled through her. He didn’t know.

He couldn’t know.

‘ Buonasera , Fia.’

A deep male voice came from the doorway and she turned. Still the same ‘born to rule’ Ferrara self-confidence, the same innate sophistication polished until it shone bright as the paintwork of his Lamborghini. He was six foot three of hard, sensual masculinity, but Fia felt nothing a woman was supposed to feel when she laid eyes on Santino Ferrara.

He was her biggest mistake.

And, judging from the cold, cynical glint in his eye, he considered her to be his.

Did he know?

Had he found out?

Fia wasn’t fooled by his apparently relaxed pose or his deceptively mild tone.

Santino Ferrara was the most dangerous man she’d ever met.

USA TODAY bestselling author SARAH MORGANwrites lively, sexy stories for both Mills & Boon ®Modern™ Romance and Medical™ Romance.

As a child Sarah dreamed of being a writer, and although she took a few interesting detours on the way she is now living that dream. With her writing career she has successfully combined business with pleasure, and she firmly believes that reading romance is one of the most satisfying and fat-free escapist pleasures available. Her stories are unashamedly optimistic, and she is always pleased when she receives letters from readers saying that her books have helped them through hard times.

Romantic Times has described her writing as ‘action-packed and sexy’, and nominated her books for their Reviewers’ Choice Awards and their ‘Top Pick’ slot.

Sarah lives near London with her husband and two children, who innocently provide an endless supply of authentic dialogue. When she isn’t writing or reading Sarah enjoys music, movies, and any activity that takes her outdoors.

Readers can find out more about Sarah and her books from her website: www.sarahmorgan.com. She can also be found on Facebook and Twitter.

Recent titles by the same author:

ONCE A FERRARA WIFE …

DOUKAKIS’S APPRENTICE

THE TWELVE NIGHTS OF CHRISTMAS

Did you know these are also available as eBooks? Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk

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For my editor Lucy Gilmour, who is wise,

clever and always wears great shoes. Thank you.

THERE was a shocked silence round the boardroom table.

Amused by the reaction, Santo Ferrara sat back in his chair. ‘I’m sure you’ll all agree it’s an exciting project,’ he drawled. ‘Thank you for your attention.’

‘You’ve lost your mind.’ It was his older brother who finally broke the silence. Cristiano, who had recently relinquished some of his responsibility in the company to spend more time with his young family. ‘It can’t be done.’

‘Because you didn’t succeed? Don’t beat yourself up. It’s fairly common for a man to lose his edge when he’s distracted by a wife and kids.’ Santo loaded his tone with sympathy, enjoying the brief interlude in what had been a long, punishing few weeks. And if he felt a slight twinge of envy that his brother had gone on to be as successful in his personal life as he was in business then he told himself that it was just a matter of time before he found the same thing himself. ‘It’s like seeing a great warrior fallen. Don’t blame yourself. Living with three women can soften a man.’

The rest of the Board exchanged nervous glances but wisely chose to remain silent.

Cristiano’s gaze locked on his. ‘I am still chairman of this company.’

‘Precisely. You’ve taken a back seat while you change nappies. Now leave the good ideas to the rest of us.’ He was being deliberately combative and Cristiano gave a reluctant laugh.

‘I’m not denying that your proposal is exciting. I can see the business potential in adapting the hotel to accommodate a wider range of sports and appeal to a younger demographic. I even agree that expanding on the West coast of Sicily has potential for a certain type of discerning traveller—’ he paused and when he looked at Santo his eyes were deadly serious ‘—but the success of the project rests on you gaining the extra land from the Baracchi family and old man Baracchi would shoot you through the head before he sold to you.’

Good-natured banter gave way to tension. Those around the table kept their eyes down, everyone well aware of the history between the two families. The whole of Sicily knew the history.

‘That is my problem to deal with,’ Santo said in a cool tone and Cristiano made an impatient sound as he pushed back his chair and paced over to the expanse of glass that overlooked the glittering Mediterranean sea.

‘Since you took over day-to-day running of the company you have more than proved yourself. You have done things I hadn’t even thought of doing.’ He turned. ‘But you will not be able to do this. You will simply inflame a situation that has been simmering for almost three generations. You should let it die.’

‘I am going to turn the Ferrara Beach Club into our most successful hotel.’

‘You will fail.’

Santo smiled. ‘Shall we bet on that?’

For once his brother didn’t return the smile or take up the challenge. ‘This goes deeper than sibling rivalry. You cannot do this.’

‘Enough time has passed for us to put grievances aside.’

‘That,’ Cristiano said slowly, ‘depends on the grievance.’

Santo felt the anger start to heat inside him but alongside the anger were darker, murkier emotions that sprang to life whenever the Baracchi name was mentioned. It was a visceral reaction, a conditioned response reinforced by a lifetime of animosity between the families. ‘I was not responsible for what happened to Baracchi’s grandson. You know the truth.’

‘This is not about truth or reason, but about passion and prejudice. Deep-rooted prejudice. I have already approached him. Made him several more than generous offers. Baracchi would see his family starve before he sells his land to a Ferrara. Negotiations are closed.’

Santo rose to his feet. ‘Then it’s time they were reopened.’

A man cleared his throat. ‘As your lawyer it’s my duty to warn against—’

‘Don’t give me negatives—’ Santo lifted his hand to silence the man, his eyes still fixed on his brother. ‘So your objection isn’t the commercial development which you concede makes sound business sense, but the interaction with the Baracchi family. Do you think I’m a coward?’

‘No, and that is what troubles me. You use reason and courage but Baracchi has neither. You are my brother.’ Cristiano’s voice thickened. ‘Guiseppe Baracchi hates you. He’s always been an irascible old man. What makes you think he will listen to you before he loses that infamous temper of his?’