Summer Surrender: Capelli's Captive Virgin / Italian Boss, Proud Miss Prim / The Italian's One-Night Love-Child

The other man melted swiftly into the background leaving Lindsay the entire focus of Alessio’s attention.

‘Buon giorno.’ He spoke in a low tone that was inaudible to all around, his eyes cool and assessing. ‘Did you sleep well?’

‘Perfectly, thank you.’ She pulled out a chair and sat down opposite him, ignoring his knowing smile. ‘Any sign of your client?’

Please say yes, she begged silently. A third person might dilute the tension that seemed to surround them.

‘There’s been a hurricane warning. He’s decided not to fly out until the weather improves.’

Startled, she looked at him. ‘A hurricane?’

‘Don’t worry. Kingfisher Cay hasn’t suffered a direct hit once in the past sixty years. It will pass us by.’

Lindsay glanced up at the blue sky, noticing a few wisps of cloud on the horizon. ‘Let’s hope you’re right.’

‘Are you afraid of storms?’

‘I love storms—’ without looking at him, she helped herself to slices of fresh pineapple and mango from a plate in the centre of the table ‘—so if you’re hoping that I’ll seek the shelter of your strong arms, you’re going to be disappointed.’

Alessio laughed. ‘So far I haven’t had to rely on the weather to entice a woman into my bed.’

‘I’m sure you haven’t.’ She made a point of examining the deep gold flesh of the mango. ‘Where there’s money, there will always be women.’

‘Ouch, Lindsay, that was cruel.’ He was still laughing at her, apparently totally unaffected by her dig.

‘No, really—I feel sorry for you—’ picking up a fork, she speared a piece of mango ‘—you must be incredibly lonely. Meaningless sex has to become boring after a while.’

‘Obviously you’ve never had really good sex,’ he said dryly and Lindsay concentrated on her plate, taking her time over selecting her next piece of tropical fruit.

‘For you it’s a sort of sport, isn’t it? A type of physical workout. You just don’t engage your emotions. Don’t you want more?’

‘“More” being marriage?’ He drained his coffee. ‘I think you know me better than that.’

‘I don’t know you at all.’

‘That’s your choice,’ he said silkily, his dark eyes glinting dangerously as he watched her. ‘Feel free to take a voyage of discovery at your convenience. You look tired, Lindsay. Did something keep you awake last night? Your thoughts, perhaps?’

‘I slept perfectly,’ she lied. ‘So if you have no client to see today, what are you going to do?’

‘I have another difficult case that needs my attention. I intend to go out on the yacht. A change of scene sometimes helps me focus.’

Weak with relief at the news that he wasn’t going to be around during the day, Lindsay finished the fruit on her plate and actually managed a smile. ‘Of course. Don’t worry about me. I quite understand that you need some time to yourself.’ Maybe this wasn’t going to be so hard after all. She could curl up in her villa with a book. Once she was confident he was nowhere near the island, she might even change into one of those revealing swimming costumes and risk a swim in the sea. ‘I’ll be fine.’

‘I know you’ll be fine—’ he reached out a hand and helped himself to a piece of exotic fruit from the platter in front of him ‘—because you’ll be with me. You’re my assistant, remember? Where I go, you go.’

‘When you’re working, yes. But if you’re simply having a day off on your yacht—’

‘I don’t take days off. I’ll simply be working in a different venue.’ His strong fingers dissected the fruit with ruthless precision while Lindsay stared in dismay.

He expected her to go with him? ‘You’ll be working on a boat?’

‘A catamaran, to be precise. She’s moored over there on the jetty.’

Lindsay turned her head and stared at the beautiful craft, the hull glistening white in the dazzling Caribbean sunshine. Just the two of them. Trapped. On that? Being on an island was bad enough, but being on a boat—’I know absolutely nothing about boats.’

‘I’ll handle the boat.’ He nodded to one of the waiters who instantly produced more coffee. ‘Your duties will involve something else entirely.’

Her stomach lurched. ‘What exactly will you want me to do?’

‘I’m not sure yet.’ He gave a slow smile. ‘But when I’ve decided, you’ll be the first to know.’

Despite her reservations, the sail was exhilarating—two hours of glorious sunshine while the boat skimmed joyously across the water, the sails arching against the kiss of the wind.

By the time Alessio finally sailed the boat into a curved, sheltered bay, Lindsay’s face was pink from the sun and stinging with the spray of the sea.

And she felt fantastic. Unable to hide her elation, she kneeled on the seat and peered over the side of the catamaran, down into the clear depths of the blue Caribbean sea. It was like looking into an aquarium. The sun sparkled on the water and tropical fish in a rainbow of colours darted beneath her. And ahead of her was a perfect curve of white sand, fringed by palm trees and surprisingly lush vegetation.

She glanced back at him. ‘Are we the only people here?’

‘You wanted a party?’ His movements sure and confident, he secured a rope and lowered the anchor.

‘It’s like being shipwrecked,’ Lindsay murmured, turning her head and staring at the stretch of deserted beach.

‘Five-star shipwreck.’ Alessio produced a bottle of chilled champagne and deftly removed the cork. Pouring the bubbling liquid into two thin-stemmed flutes, he held one out to her. ‘To a productive afternoon.’

Lindsay rose slowly to her feet and took the glass hesitantly. ‘I don’t drink in the middle of the day.’

‘Take a sip.’ Alessio raised his own glass in her direction. ‘I think you might be about to discover a whole new vice.’

Because of the way he was looking at her, because of the way he was making her feel, Lindsay took a tentative sip and the surprisingly light and delicious drink seemed to sparkle in her mouth. She swallowed and smiled. ‘It’s delicious,’ she admitted and took another sip. ‘Really refreshing. It doesn’t taste alcoholic.’

‘Well, believe me, it is.’ Putting down his own glass, he leaned behind her and carefully coiled a rope. ‘Don’t drink too much, especially if you’re not used to it. Boats and alcohol don’t mix and I don’t want to be fishing you out of the water.’

‘Then why did you want me to drink it?’

‘Because this particular champagne is an experience that everyone should try at least once in their lives.’ He gave a slow smile. ‘A bit like no-strings sex.’

She took another sip of the delicious champagne, watching as the sun glinted on his glossy hair. ‘For me, sex has to be an expression of love.’

‘That’s because you haven’t tried the other sort.’

‘I wouldn’t want to.’

He turned to face her, a smile softening the hard lines of his mouth. ‘Oh, you do want to, tesoro.’ His voice soft, he stepped forward so that his body was virtually touching hers. ‘You do want to. But you’re afraid.’

Suddenly dizzy, she put her glass down on the seat next to her. ‘Of course I’m afraid. I’m afraid of being hurt.’

‘No, that isn’t it.’ He leaned closer to her and she felt the roughness of his jaw graze the softness of her cheek as he whispered in her ear. ‘I think you’re afraid that you might actually enjoy it. And then where would you be? A relationship counsellor who has made her name dismissing casual sex, suddenly embroiled in a no-strings affair. You’d have to rethink your career.’