Sharon Kendrick Collection

‘If that was intended to embarrass Sabrina, Jenna, then you’ve succeeded with honours,’ he said shortly. ‘This way, Sabrina.’

There was a rather stunned silence as the two of them left the room. He picked up her suitcases, a thoughtful glint in his eyes as he observed her set expression.

Neither of them said a word until he threw open a door right at the end of the corridor to reveal a small room cluttered with a desk, a filing cabinet, an exercise bike and, hardly visible beneath a heap of skiing clothes, a narrow, single bed.

Sabrina turned to face him. ‘You weren’t expecting me,’ she observed, and tried to keep the disappointment from her voice as she took in the general chaos.

He gave a half-apologetic shrug. He was letting her have the room, for heaven’s sake—was she expecting red-carpet treatment into the bargain? ‘I was snowed under when you rang last week, and I just didn’t get around to asking my cleaning lady to sort the place out. Let me go and see the others out, and then I’ll come and help you tidy up.’

‘I can do it myself!’

‘You don’t know where to store things,’ he said evenly, and walked out of the room before she had a chance to reply.

Unable to do anything until he came back, Sabrina went and stood over by the window, gazing out at the darkening sky, at the city lights which were just beginning to flicker on. She thought of how her life had changed, and was changing still, in ways she had never imagined would happen to a girl like her. And there wasn’t, she realised, a single thing she could do to stop it. So, was that fate, or destiny?

She was still standing there when he returned, and as he walked into the confined space she suddenly became stupidly aware of the fact that he had now done up the top two buttons of his jeans.

And that they were alone.

‘What did your friends say?’ she asked him.

Guy’s mouth twisted. ‘Let’s just say that they wanted to know more than I was prepared to tell them.’

She dreaded having to ask, but she needed to know. ‘And is Jenna your…your…girlfriend?’

He stared at her in disbelief. ‘You really think I’d invite another woman to stay with me, without telling her, if she was?’

‘I don’t know, do I? That’s exactly why I’m asking!’

The challenging look was replaced by one of faint irritation. ‘I tend to go for a little more communication in my relationships than that,’ he said coldly.

‘So you don’t have one at the moment?’

‘One what, princess?’ he mocked.

Suddenly she was aware that they were in a bedroom, and that the space between them yawned like a great, gaping chasm. It was the antithesis of the eager way they had fallen into each other’s arms back in Venice…No. She wasn’t going to put herself through that kind of torture.

‘Relationship,’ she said doggedly.

God, but she was persistent! ‘No, Sabrina,’ he said deliberately. ‘I do not have a relationship at the moment.’

She realised then that there was something else she needed to know, something which she really ought to have established before she’d come here.

‘And won’t I…’ she lifted her face to his ‘…cramp your style?’

He looked down at her, momentarily disorientated by that fierce little look of pride. He frowned. ‘What are you talking about?’

Her heart was in her mouth as she said it, but she managed to keep her voice steady. ‘Well, if you haven’t got a relationship, then presumably you’re in the market for one—’

‘Why, is that an offer?’ he questioned silkily, but the surge of blood to his loins made him wish he could take the question back again.

‘It most certainly is not!’

‘Pity. Actually, I’m not “in the market” for a relationship, as you so delightfully put it.’

Was that a note of warning colouring his tone? A polite but efficient way of telling her not to start concocting any little fantasies of her own?

‘You might meet someone else,’ Sabrina rushed on. ‘And prospective girlfriends might be put off by the presence of another woman. Particularly one with whom…whom…’

‘With whom I’ve already had a relationship?’ he challenged coolly.

She felt oddly defiant. ‘Do you really think that what we had could be called a relationship, Guy?’

‘Well, how would you like to describe it?’ he mused.

As the most wonderful night of her life, that was how she would describe it, but tell Guy that and she would see his gorgeous face freeze with fastidious horror. Men judged events differently. A little light passion. No, scrub that. Very heavy passion.

‘Things just got out of hand,’ she said, trying not to think about the way he’d smiled a secret kind of smile as he’d bent his dark head to kiss her. ‘That’s all.

As a blow to his sexual pride, it was quite the most exquisite thrust, and Guy very nearly smiled. But not quite. ‘They sure did,’ he agreed in a sultry murmur, watching with dark interest as the nipples of her tiny breasts sprang into glorious life beneath the sweater she wore. Almost as if they were reaching out to touch him.

He leaned over the bed and scooped up an armful of ski clothes. ‘I’ll pack these away,’ he groaned. ‘And then I’ll think about throwing together some supper.’

Guy’s idea of ‘throwing together some supper’ was not what Sabrina understood by the term. For a start, the contents of his fridge could have kept the most dedicated hedonist going for at least a week. Sabrina could see fancy chocolates, champagne and enough different cheeses to stock a delicatessen.

‘Do you like smoked salmon?’ he asked.

‘Er, love it.’

He looked up at her, and frowned. ‘Well, do you or don’t you?’

‘I said yes, didn’t I?’

‘You sounded unsure.’ He gave a little click of irritation. ‘Look, Sabrina, let’s just get a couple of things straight, shall we? I don’t want you agreeing with me for the sake of it—just because it’s my flat.’

‘OK,’ she agreed. ‘And while we’re on the subject of house rules—’

‘Rules?’ he interrupted, with a sardonic elevation of his dark brows. ‘Goodness me, how very schoolmistressy of you! Are we talking firm and unbending rules, I wonder, or very, very flexible ones?’

Sabrina felt a mixture of fury and frustration as she stared into eyes which mocked her. He could stop that right now! ‘Oh, do, please, spare me the innuendo!’ she snapped.

Guy gave a reluctant smile. Had he actually been worried that all the fire had gone out of her? Not all of it, no. ‘OK,’ he said slowly.

‘I meant rules about things like paying you rent—’

‘The rent doesn’t matter.’

‘It does matter,’ said Sabrina stubbornly. ‘I can’t stay here for nothing—and before you tell me that you can afford it—’