His Ultimate Demand

Seeing doesn’t mean touching.

‘Drop the sarong. You don’t need it here.’

She fidgeted with the knot and his temperature rose higher. It loosened as she walked over to the lounger. She finally dropped it, sat down, and crossed her legs. Minutes ticked by. She recrossed her legs.

‘Stop fidgeting.’

She blew out a sigh. ‘I can’t stand the tension.’

‘Well, running away won’t make it go away.’

‘I wasn’t planning to run,’ she replied. ‘You wanted to talk about wines, remember?’

He nodded, although he’d lost interest in that subject. Forcing himself to look away from the temptation of the small waist that flared into very feminine hips and long, shapely legs, he stared at the moon rising over the water.

‘Or I could easily return to my cabin and we can continue to treat each other like strangers.’

He considered the idea for exactly two seconds before he tossed it.

‘What the hell, Ruby mio, let’s give civility a try.’

She exhaled, sat up and poured a glass of mineral water from the jug nearby. ‘Okay, first, I have to ask—what the heck is up with your name, anyway?’

He smiled despite the poker-sharp pain in his gut. ‘You don’t like it?’

‘It’s...different.’

‘It was Giacomo’s idea of a joke. But I’ve grown into it, don’t you think?’ Despite his joviality, the pain in his chest grew. Her eyes stayed on him and he saw when she noticed it. For some reason, revealing himself in that way didn’t disturb him as much as he’d thought it would. In fact, talking to her soothed him.

‘You’ve never wanted to change it?’

‘It’s just a name. I’m sure a few people will agree I can be narcissistic on occasion. I have no problems in pleasing number one.’

Her eyes gleamed with speculative interest. ‘It really doesn’t bother you, does it?’

‘It may have, once upon a time,’ he confessed. ‘But not any more.’

Sympathy filled her eyes. ‘I’m sorry.’

He tried to speak but words locked in his throat. Two simple words. Powerful words that calmed his roiling emotions. ‘Grazie,’ he murmured.

His eyes caught and held hers. Something shifted, settled between them. An acknowledgement that neither of them were whole or without a history of buried hurt.

‘The email on the plane. What was that about?’ he asked abruptly.

She slowly inhaled. ‘Before I tell you, promise me it won’t affect the outcome of this test run.’ Her imploring look almost made him reply in the affirmative.

He hardened his resolve when he realised she was doing it again. Getting under his skin. Making a nonsense of his common sense.

‘Sorry, amante, I don’t make blind promises when it comes to business.’

Her lips firmed. ‘Simon sold his share of the business to a guy who doesn’t see eye to eye with my business plan.’ In low tones, she elaborated.

He jerked upright. ‘You’re being threatened by a loan shark?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you didn’t think to inform me?’ he demanded.

‘Would you have believed me? Especially in light of how I approached you?’

‘Perhaps not right then, but...’ The idea that he was prepared to give her the benefit of the doubt gave him a moment’s pause. ‘What’s his name?’

‘I don’t know—he refused to tell me. All he wants is his money.’

‘So I own twenty-five per cent of your business and a loan shark whose name you don’t know another twenty-five per cent?’

‘Yes.’

He slowly relaxed on his lounger and stared at her. ‘You do realise that our agreement is transforming into substantially more than a talent-contest-prize delivery, don’t you?’

A flush warmed her skin. ‘I’m not sure I know what you mean.’

‘What I mean, Ruby mio, is that in order to realise my twenty-five-per-cent investment, it seems I have to offer my business expertise. Writing you a cheque after next week and walking away is looking less and less likely.’

Why that thought pleased him so much, Narciso refused to examine.

CHAPTER EIGHT (#u4017a3b2-e6af-5f18-a53a-4ede2f98d967)A

‘I DON’T REMEMBER the last time I sunbathed.’

‘I can tell.’

Blue eyes glared at him and his pulse rocketed. Narciso tried to talk himself calmer. No one else was to blame since he’d invited her to go scuba-diving with him. After another sleepless night battling unrelenting sexual frustration.

‘How can you tell? And don’t tell me it’s because you’re a warlock.’

‘I don’t need otherworldly powers, cara. Your skin is so pale it’s almost translucent and there are no visible tan lines.’

She glanced down at herself. ‘Oh.’

‘Here.’ He grabbed the sun protection, started to move towards her, changed his mind at the last minute and tossed it to her.

‘Thanks.’ She sat on the same lounger as last night. But this time, the smell of her skin and the drying sea water made his blood heat.

‘Where did you learn to dive?’ he asked to distract himself from following the slim fingers that worked their way up her leg.

She smiled. ‘I spent a few summers working at a hotel in Florida when I was in high school. I worked in the kitchens and got to dive in my spare time.’