The Bridal Bargain by Emma Darcy

look, both of them aware of how Antonio acted when he was all stirred up.
    In his determination not to lose, he could be dangerously reckless, taking risks that a less competitive person would never take. He counted on his force of will to carry him through and mostly it did. But this trait in Antonio’s character always struck fear in Isabella’s heart.
    “Nautilis?” he said into the receiver.
    Isabella frowned. The Nautilis was a very high-class restaurant, where President Clinton himself had chosen to dine when he had visited Port Douglas— certainly not the place for a battle.
    “It’s Tony King. There was a couple on Duchess today, name of Lovett. First names Flynn and Jodie. They mentioned they’d booked a table with you tonight. Would you be able to check that for me, please?”
    His tone was pitched to a matter-of-fact enquiry, not suggesting any unpleasantness—simply one local business asking a small favour of another local business.
    “Thank you. What time are you expecting them?”
    He checked his watch, nodding at the reply.
    “I’d like to dine there myself tonight. Can you fit in another table for two? I realise this is late notice but I would appreciate it very much if...”
    A grim look of satisfaction on his face indicated a positive reply. Isabella was anxiously wondering about the companion he intended to take with him. Was there some other woman entering the scene? Another one of his come-and-go relationships, wasting time and opportunity?
    “Thank you. We’ll be arriving at eight-thirty. One other favour... I’d rather not be placed on the same deck as the Lovetts’ table. They caused me some trouble today...”
    Trouble... So why go looking for more of it, Antonio? The restaurant had split-level dining areas but both levels were open to each other and all guests could be easily viewed.
    “They’re placed on the upper deck and you’ll put us on the lower deck. Fine! Thank you very, very much.”
    He replaced the receiver, his eyes glittering with triumph at having successfully made the arrangements he wanted. The battle ground was set. But what were the issues at stake?
    “Antonio...” Isabella started gravely.
    He had the gall to grin at her. “Got to move it, Nonna. Shower, shave, change of clothes. I’ll chat to you tomorrow. Promise.”
    “Two minutes,” she demanded. “You can give me two minutes. You’re not due at the restaurant for another hour and it doesn’t take you that long to get ready to go out.”
    “Okay. What do you want to know in two minutes?”
    He was tense underneath the token indulgence, wanting to go up to his room and get on with the plan he had in mind. He folded his arms with an air of patience, but Isabella read that piece of body language as sheer belligerence—nothing was going to stop him in any significant way.
    “Hannah O’Neill,” she said, and felt a spark of triumph herself when she saw his hands clench. He was certainly not indifferent to Hannah. Was the battle he intended to fight linked to her in some way? “Is she fitting in well?” Isabella pressed.
    “Fine!” he answered tersely. “The crew like her. She can cook fish. I intend to keep her on. Satisfied?”
    He started moving, assuming he’d said enough.
    “I take it Hannah is still in the Coral King apartment Alessandro gave her?”
    “Yes.” He hesitated, frowning slightly. “Why do you ask? Monday is her first day off. She’s too busy to look for a place before then.”
    “Oh, I was just thinking of giving her a friendly call. Now that you’re finished with the telephone and too busy to chat with me yourself...”
    “Don’t!” The word was shot at her so fast it had the impact of a bullet being fired from a battle line.
    Isabella drew herself up with straight-backed hauteur and gave him an arched look of reproof. “I beg your pardon?”
    The aggression pumping from him was reined in. He made a curt, dismissive gesture, realising he had no authority whatsoever