The purr of a sports car engine broke the stillness of the afternoon and brought Charlie's mind immediately back to the past, to the events he had been hiding from all year.

She had grown up in the sophisticated world of racing cars, but her brother's death had driven her to retreat to the countryside, to the sanctuary of her front yard. It was a safe place, but instinct told her that security was in danger.

Unable to contain himself, he heard the unmistakable sound of the V8 engine as the car came to a stop. All thoughts of gardening left his mind, which was suddenly flooded with images of happier times—images that clashed head-on with those of the moment his world had fallen apart.

Kneeling as she was on the grass in her garden, she couldn't see the car on the other side of the fence, but she knew it was powerful and expensive, and that it had stopped right in front of her door.

When the sound of the engine died away, the only thing that could be heard in the quiet English countryside was the birdsong. Charlie closed her eyes for a moment, feeling a sudden sense of dread. However well-intentioned, she didn't need any revisiting of the past. Most likely, this one had to do with her father, who had been pressuring her for weeks to move on.

The sound of the car door closing was followed by firm footsteps on the driveway.

" Scusi! " the deep male voice startled Charlie more than the Italian himself, and he jumped like a kid who'd just been caught stealing candy.

The six-foot-six dark-haired Italian man who appeared at the entrance to her garden left her speechless. Dressed in designer jeans
that hugged his thighs perfectly, seemed completely out of place in the surroundings, although Charlie found him vaguely familiar. He wore a leather jacket over a dark shirt and looked everything you'd expect an Italian to look like: self-confident and possessing an undeniable sex appeal.

His dark hair, slightly longer, was strong and shone like jet in the sunlight. The shadow of the stubble that covered his dark face enhanced his attractive features. But it was the intensity of his dark eyes that took Charlie's breath away.
"I'm looking for Charlotte Warrington." His accent was thick and incredibly sexy, as was the way he pronounced the name, as if it were a short melody.

As she took off her work gloves, Charlie was very aware that she was wearing her oldest jeans and a simple T-shirt, and that her hair was tied back in something resembling a ponytail.

Without a doubt, that must be his brother's partner, the man who had gotten him so deeply involved in the world of racing cars that he almost forgot his family existed. Indignation immediately surfaced.

–What can I do for you, sir...?

The stranger remained silent, watching her intently. Charlie felt her skin prickle beneath the caress of those dark eyes.

"Are you Sebastian's sister?" The question was asked with a mixture of disbelief and accusation, but Charlie barely noticed, as the pain he'd thought was almost over resurfaced at the mention of his brother's name.

"Yes," he replied with obvious irritation. "And who are you?" he asked, even though he knew he was standing in front of the man he held responsible for his brother's death.

She hated herself for the flash of attraction she'd experienced upon seeing him. How could she possibly feel anything but contempt for that man?

"Roselli," he replied, confirming Charlie's worst suspicions.

Alessandro Roselli –he added as he walked towards her.

But the look Charlie gave him made him stop.