Nine Months To Claim Her by Natalie Anderson

CHAPTER TEN

ANYOTHERWOMANwould consider a three-hour flight cosied up in a first-class pod with Leo Castle a dream come true. For Rosanna? It was a nightmare. He was too close; she could smell the freshness of his soap and feel the warmth of his body. Both of which made her want to lean even closer. She didn’t, of course. She fretted.

She’d messaged her parents just before boarding, guiltily telling them she’d gone away on an assignment for work. It wasn’t altogether untrue. This was a kind of business. And she wanted any future arrangement agreed with Leo before telling her parents. She didn’t want them attempting to interfere.

‘Why the Great Barrier Reef?’ she asked Leo, desperate for distraction from his nearness.

‘Why not?’ he replied. ‘You ever been?’

She shook her head.

‘Me either.’ He smiled enough for the one dimple to make a brief appearance. ‘We can discover it together.’

He was working hard at being agreeable but the truth was there was a slender bond of intimacy growing between them. Not quite the sort she secretly ached for. Right now she couldn’t maintain eye contact or she was going to do something stupid. She pounced on the small packet of snacks the air steward passed her. It was exactly what she needed to occupy herself. But the packet was impossible to open. She tried with hands, then teeth, then with pure unadulterated frustration.

‘Do you want—?’ Leo broke off as the foil finally burst and launched salty rice snacks into the air like confetti. ‘A hand with that?’ He finished the offer belatedly.

Rosanna stared. Leo was the one who needed a hand. He’d borne the brunt of the explosion. A billion rice snacks now littered his lap. She half expected him to explode next. Instead he shot her a sideways look and not one, but two dimples appeared. Next minute, the man was laughing.

Rosanna remained frozen a split second longer, then she too slid into a chuckle—half in relief, then pure ridiculousness. His laugh was warm and infectious and the unexpected merriment multiplied. She giggled helplessly as she felt his shoulders shake in an easy, intimate moment. She helped him collect the morsels, trying not to make anything of the chance to touch him, but she felt her flush building and knew he was watching her expression too closely.

‘Sorry,’ she muttered.

‘I’m not,’ he answered in that low, intimate way. ‘It’s nice to see you laugh. You haven’t much.’

She glanced up and was ensnared in his gaze. ‘Nor have you.’

Now he was smiling, small and lopsided, but true and unbearably intense. The whisper of want swirled, spinning her closer to him. It would be so easy to tip forward and touch her mouth to his—that kiss last night had sent her soaring. And his smile now reminded her of the gentle humour that night on his terrace at the towers. It had been irresistibly easy then. But they’d both been pretending to be people they weren’t. That wasn’t reality now.

‘Next time, let me help?’ His gravity washed through her like shock waves, radiating through her body to bone.

Could she trust him to? Did she have any real choice?

In how he helped? Yes, she did. She sobered completely and made herself sit back. She had to think more clearly than this.

After the flight they faced a hop by helicopter. They skimmed over sapphire waters, looking down on emerald and gold islands that Rosanna could scarcely believe were real, so gorgeous were the colours. Finally at their secluded destination, she stood on the deck just absorbing the hombre blues stretching before her. The privacy and luxury and untouched wildness were profound.

‘Lost for words?’ he asked quietly.

She nodded. She’d thought that by escaping the city—his domain, her family difficulties—she’d be able to focus on combatting his will. Only now she was here in this incredible, unique beauty, peace descended. In a place this perfect, there could be only tranquillity.

‘We have the hut to ourselves,’ he said.

Rosanna smiled. She wouldn’t exactly call it a hut. The stunning villa was mostly open-plan with clean lines and soft furnishings that subtly screamed comfort. She’d noted with relief that there were two bedrooms, both with stunning views. They had their own pool as well as that amazing ocean just behind her. But none of these exquisite things were enough to distract her from the man now walking towards her.

‘Give me your phone.’ He held his in one hand and stretched his other towards her.

‘Why?’

She followed him into the villa and watched him open the small safe secreted in the lounge. ‘Locking away my phone and my watch. Yours too.’ He glanced at her wrist but she didn’t have a fancy smart watch like his.

She met the challenge in his gaze and handed her phone over.

‘No phones. No moans,’ he mocked.

‘What?’ She coloured at his amused phrase.

‘That’s the deal, right?’ he said softly, standing too close to her. ‘No work. No pleasure either. At least, not sexual.’

Her heart beat heavily.

‘Because, just so we’re clear, that’s how I’d like to relax,’ he said.

He actually looked more relaxed already. More handsome. More tempting.

‘You said you didn’t really fool about all that much,’ she muttered huskily.

‘Now I’m here with you I can’t think of anything better.’

She tried to breathe. ‘Not going to happen.’

‘I know.’ He grinned. ‘I’m resigned to the fact.’

But she wasn’t; instead she was already battling the heated thoughts his words conjured. ‘You’ll never last without your phone.’

‘Maybe you’ll never last,’ he countered. ‘You’ll be the first one to give in.’

‘Is that your goal? To make me the one to surrender?’

‘Surrender?’ His lips curved seductively. ‘Why does it have to be a fight when it’s something we both actually want?’

‘We all want things that aren’t good for us sometimes.’

‘Sometimes we just need to live a little because who knows what’s going to happen tomorrow?’

As they had that night at Kingston Towers?

‘How long are we staying?’ She desperately turned the topic.

‘A week or so? Thought we could play it by ear.’

Her pulse lifted. She was going to be alone with him for days. ‘Wow. That’s a long time for you to be away from work. How are you going to cope?’

‘I’m sure I can find some way of passing the time.’ Such loaded implication in a quiet drawl. His smile suddenly flashed. ‘You enjoyed it, Rosanna. Why not let yourself enjoy it again?’ He leaned closer to whisper. ‘It can hardly make the situation worse, can it? You’re already pregnant. We’re already in a mire of complicated. Why do we have to feel frustrated as well?’

So this was merely a source of frustration for him? ‘You don’t think it will make things worse?’

‘I think it will make some things a whole lot better,’ he said calmly. ‘At least it will be out of the way.’

She stared at him. ‘So you think it will go away?’

‘When you’ve had enough of anything, you don’t want it any more.’

So she would become something he could take or leave without any concentration or effort or will. He’d indulge but couldn’t foresee indulging in her for too long. It wasn’t as if anyone else had ever wanted to. But for Rosanna the amount of will required to resist him right now was almost unsustainable. And if they indulged, what if they then became out of sync in the satiation of this hunger? What if he’d had enough before she did and he didn’t want her any more? He would find someone else who he did want. And...what if she never had enough? What then?

His smile softened. ‘I’m going to go cool off,’ he said. ‘You want to join me?’

She drew a steadying breath. She shook her head. ‘I’m going to...eat something.’

She watched him disappear into one of the bedrooms and then went to the sleek kitchen counter. She’d not considered how intimate this trip was going to be. How it had to be. She couldn’t play a part, she had to be herself. It was inevitable he’d discover everything about her here—it was the point, after all. Which meant she had to show herself as she was—flawed, stilted. Usually she was okay with herself, but she felt a flutter of nerves at him seeing her in a swimsuit. Her loose jeans and cotton tee were enough to mask scars—but she had more than scars to show.

She put together a small plate of delectable snacks from the vast selection on offer in the fridge, then went outside and sat on the comfortable lounger on the deck by the pool. She determinedly lifted her gaze beyond the pool to the amazing water beyond. Remote and isolated, this was an escape from the rest of the world and coming here was truly bucket-list material for her. She couldn’t wait to explore the living reef; the aquatic life would be incredible. Except at this moment she was most fascinated by the man tirelessly swimming length after length as if a great white shark were after him. He was in there a long time and, incredibly, her lashes lowered as the sound of the water and the warmth of the setting sun and the oddly comforting closeness of Leo Castle lulled her and suddenly she was fast asleep.

Rosanna stretched out slowly, loath to relinquish the dreamiest sleep she’d enjoyed in weeks. But as she blinked she heard an amused voice from a distance.

‘I was wondering if you were ever going to wake up.’ Leo stepped into her line of sight. ‘You’re like Sleeping Beauty.’

She stared at him—his black swim trunks and red tee revealed strength and heat... ‘Holiday’ Leo looked fine.

Quickly she sat up. ‘But I’m awake now. No kiss necessary.’

She was still dressed in yesterday’s jeans and tee but she had no recollection of getting from the lounger outside to the bedroom. He must’ve carried her and she didn’t even remember it, which was...embarrassing.

‘You were very sleepy,’ he said.

She glanced down beside her, noting the smooth clear space where he’d not slept.

‘I took the other room obviously,’ he added, revealing yet again he’d read her mind.

She felt that wretched heat fill her face.

‘Although you’re far more biddable when you’re half-conscious.’ Amusement kindled in his eyes. ‘Like a little limpet. It took some manoeuvring to extricate myself from your sleepy clutches.’

Surely he was joking? But she could well believe her body would burrow close to his given the chance.

‘Don’t worry, I was a gentleman.’ His customary serious expression returned. ‘I’m sorry if all the travel was too much.’

‘It wasn’t,’ she said huskily. ‘I was just tired.’

He left her and Rosanna resolutely put on a bikini she’d barely worn and covered it with a wrap dress. She couldn’t pretend to be anything she wasn’t and the sooner she was honest with him, the better. On her way through she snaffled a pastry from the platter on the kitchen counter and went out to the deck. It was a stunning day. Leo had sunglasses on and was pulling together swimming gear from a room by the pool.

‘You want to explore the reef after breakfast?’ he asked.

‘I’d love to.’ She studied one of the masks. ‘But I’ll need to practise in the pool first, I’ve never snorkelled.’

‘No?’ He glanced up at her in surprise. ‘You grew up in Sydney, right? City of swimming pools and beaches.’

‘Yeah, but I stay out of the sun because I burn easily.’ She’d covered up even more when her spine problems had emerged. ‘And we didn’t go on holidays. My parents always had a project on.’

His expression tightened. ‘But you’re their only child, right? Didn’t they spoil you?’

She’d never been spoiled like this.

Awkwardly she undid the cord of her wrap dress. That first night it had been almost dark and since then her clothing had been loose enough to hide the unevenness of her body. It wasn’t as bad as it had once been; still, for the first time in ages, she felt self-conscious. She’d never shown anyone her scar like this. Why would she when she’d seen the unveiled disappointment on her parents’ faces? She glanced at him.

He was staring at her but behind those sunglasses it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. Where exactly he was looking. So she broached it directly.

‘My waist looks uneven because of my spine,’ she said briefly.

‘I hadn’t noticed.’ A husky apologetic tone. ‘I wasn’t looking at your waist...’

He removed the sunglasses and the expression in his eyes was blatantly carnal. A surge of heat scampered across her skin because she recognised that primal expression of want. But now she’d pointed out her imperfection to him he blinked and his gaze slowly lowered.

Her scoliosis hadn’t bothered her as much as it had bothered her parents. It was their reaction that had hurt her—their shame over something she’d not been able to control and their determination to correct it without anyone knowing. As if her deformity had to be a dreadful secret. They’d hurried her to specialists and demanded correction.

‘It became obvious when I was about eleven and started growing. Initially the specialists weren’t sure whether I’d need surgery but my parents pushed for it—the argument being that it would prevent it from progressing. Really, they wanted me to be perfect. I never was, of course, no matter what happened with my spine,’ she said.

Her truth told, she turned so he could see the scar. It wasn’t something that she’d wanted to hide—it had been her mother who had wanted her to wear the loose dresses, as if her remaining asymmetry was still an embarrassment. But Rosanna had survived those months of recovery, mostly alone, and so she knew she could endure other hardships too. If anything, she was a bit proud of it—but revealing it to someone else?

That was scarier.

He was behind her now and it mattered just that little bit too much that he was quiet. But then she felt the lightest of touches on her skin as he traced her scar.

‘That’s a long incision,’ he muttered. ‘It must’ve been painful.’

‘At the time, very.’ She bent her head. Initially after the operation it had been excruciating. She didn’t like to think of those first few weeks often. But not only had it stopped her curve from worsening, it had improved it a lot. Just not enough for her parents. ‘My parents wanted them to do it again because they weren’t happy with the outcome. But I was okay with it.’

‘Does it get sore?’

‘Only sometimes. Mostly it’s fine.’

‘It must’ve taken a while to recover.’

‘No sports for a year. I wasn’t devastated,’ she admitted dryly.

He chuckled. ‘No? You weren’t all jolly hockey sticks?’

‘I was a nerd. Enforced rest gave me time to draw.’

‘Will the pregnancy cause you pain?’ His voice was very husky now. ‘You’ll be able to take the strain of carrying two babies?’

She paused. ‘When I recovered from the operation they said childbearing should be fine in the future. I guess I should see my specialist when we get back to Sydney.’

His finger pressed a little heavier on her skin. ‘We should have done that already.’

‘I don’t think I’m going to expand all that quickly.’ She half laughed. ‘And if it does get sore, it won’t be anything dreadful.’

‘I don’t want you to be in any pain.’ He lifted his hand away.

She felt the loss of that tiny contact. ‘Lots of women have backache when pregnant. At least I’m used to it. And it may not even happen.’ She turned to face him again. ‘I’m still not perfect but it’s better than it was.’

He looked down at her. She felt almost naked in front of him now but there was something in his eyes that her sad brain wanted to read as admiration.

‘No one’s ever perfect, Rosanna, but you’re strong,’ he said softly. ‘You have a steel spine. For real.’

She smiled gently.

‘If you can handle surgery like that, you can handle anything.’ His hands lightly shaped each side of her waist—one side indented, the other more straight.

It didn’t matter though, just the look in his eyes made her feel wanted—and his words? They filled her with a blaze of heat that was new. A power. He’d seen and he’d not thought any less of her, in fact he thought along the lines she’d secretly felt. That she had some grit. And now she was struggling to remember what she’d been telling him. Why she’d been telling him.

She drew in a steadying breath and remembered. It had been about her parents. Because? She felt an instinctive, self-protective need to hold him at a distance. She’d tell him everything. Anything to distract herself from the temptation he posed. Nothing would push him away more than discussion of her parents. The sooner she said it all, the sooner they could move on and he would understand why she didn’t want to marry him. Why she couldn’t. She stepped back from his touch and his hands dropped.

‘You have to understand my parents excel in hyperbole and the pursuit of perfection—I got braces, and a steel rod in my spine, to make me...better, so I could be the future face of the business—it’s all about appearances, right? They wanted me to be my best, not always what was best for me. Whatever I did was embellished because I wasn’t ever quite good enough.’ She laughed awkwardly, quickly getting through the worst. ‘And I didn’t want to let them down. Their work is the whole reason they married. They share a passion for design and they wanted to be the best so they teamed up. It’s everything. They always held parties to show off their home—networking events really. I was shy and hid in the background and by the time I was old enough to help out they wanted me to stay out of sight until my spine had been straightened. And teeth. The freckles could be faded with make-up.’

‘Didn’t they see that all these things are part of what make you unique?’ He frowned. ‘You’re stunning, Rosanna.’

She battled another blush and tried to ignore him. She’d not been fishing for compliments, she’d just been trying to explain where she came from so he’d understand why she didn’t want a businesslike marriage.

‘They said boarding school was to help me get past the shyness and isolation of surgery but it was more for the connections they could make with the parents there. They wanted me to make connections. Ash Castle attended, as did all the other heirs to the social empire, you know? Future leaders and all those bright young things.’

‘They sent you to a school because of who attended?’

‘They subscribe to the “who you know” rather than “what you know” school of success. That’s what’s always worked for them up until now.’

His expression stiffened. ‘And that’s changed since I took over. I understand their disappointment but they shouldn’t have shipped corporate secrets. It was more than disloyal.’

‘It was,’ she agreed simply. ‘The only thing I can think is that he was desperate. Success is everything to them.’

‘Is it everything to you?’

‘No. Not their definition of it anyway,’ she said. ‘I was supposed to follow them into the family business. That’s why they called me Rose—because my father is known as Red. It was supposed to be a cute marketing plan for Gold Style that I couldn’t live up to. I don’t have the design flair, I don’t have the social skills needed to sell the concepts...’ She huffed out a breath. ‘When I did well at school that was the one thing they could celebrate. But then they pushed too hard in that and suddenly I’m supposed to be a genius. I was put up a year because they were so pushy and told the teachers I was gifted. I had to work so hard to maintain the grades they told everyone came so easily. They were resigned to my not being in the business only if I then excelled academically. It was a relief to go to university but, honestly, even there I’ve not done what I “should” have. I was supposed to have been a prodigy, instead I just did my degree and then took a job as a technician because I didn’t want to leave...’ It had been safe there. ‘But that hasn’t stopped my parents telling everyone I’m a professor. I avoid coming back to Sydney too often so I don’t have to disappoint them all over again.’

‘Your value shouldn’t be based on a list of achievements.’

‘Says the ultimate over-achiever.’

‘It was survival for me,’ he said briefly. ‘Do you enjoy your job?’ He’d asked her that before, but now, in a way, she could answer him.

‘I applied for a lectureship last month so my parents could finally be telling the truth.’

‘So you’re still trying to please them. Still pushing yourself along a path that’s not really of your choosing.’

‘I’ve failed though.’ She shrugged. ‘Didn’t get the job.’

‘Did you really want it?’ he asked her astutely.

She sighed. ‘Maybe not. Maybe I didn’t really push for the projects that would’ve promoted me. Honestly? I was tired after striving so hard all through school to keep those grades. But it’s the expectation, isn’t it? To fulfil the dreams and expectations of your parents.’

She didn’t live up to her potential or the expectations others had of her.

‘What about your own dreams and expectations? If you never had to worry about money or status or what anyone thought...what would you do?’

‘I don’t know.’ She’d never taken a breath to figure out for herself what she wanted.

‘You like to grow things.’

She laughed. ‘That’s just a hobby.’

‘That’s a passion,’ he corrected. ‘And passion is a good thing.’

‘You can’t make money from plants.’

‘Sure you can.’ He cocked his head. ‘Anyway, you don’t need to make money.’

‘I don’t want to be dependent on you.’ Her laughter faded. ‘I don’t want anything like my parents’ marriage, where it’s basically a business arrangement and the projection of their image, the look of it, is their priority.’

‘We won’t have that,’ he said quietly. ‘This isn’t about the look of it. We’re working together only in the sense of doing what’s best for those babies. You’re free to find fulfilment in your work, Rosanna. I’ll support you in anything you want to do.’

That wasn’t quite what she’d meant. Yet he made it seem as if it would be different—and that was tempting. He’d already shown her he could cast work aside to focus on the ‘family’ he wanted to build. But there was still something missing. The heart of it.

‘Do you have any scars?’ she asked, suddenly needing to push back on him in some way. ‘Now I’ve shown you mine.’

‘None on the outside,’ he said.

‘Nothing?’ she pressed. ‘Not even from some silly scrape?’

No. He was total physical perfection.

He shook his head. ‘Millions underneath though.’

She regarded him warily, unsure about prying further but curiosity couldn’t be contained. And he was the one who mentioned it... ‘Such as?’

Leo studied her, his heart pounding. It was fair enough of her to ask. She’d opened up to him. And it was a way of distracting himself from the desire to kiss her.

‘It was hard,’ he finally said quietly. ‘And I felt very alone.’

‘Your mother must have suffered when Hugh wouldn’t admit he was your father.’

‘Very much so.’ He hated remembering it. ‘She tried for a long time to manage without asking anyone for help.’

‘Where was her family?’

‘They’d washed their hands of her.’

‘That seems cruel.’

‘Very. Unforgiving.’ He nodded. He had the same fault—he’d never forgive them. ‘I was about eight when she took me with her to face Hugh Castle. She’d got that desperate. He literally closed the door on us.’

‘I’m sorry.’

He didn’t tell Rosanna it wasn’t the first time his mother had tried. Nor was it the worst thing Hugh had done to her. ‘It’s important to me that our children don’t face any uncertainty,’ he said. ‘That you don’t suffer anything in the way of what she suffered. I can’t let that happen to you.’

‘Where is she now?’

He couldn’t answer for a moment. ‘She passed away when I was a teenager.’

‘Before...’

Everything. ‘Before I had any success. Before I proved Hugh was my father. Before I could give her any real security.’

Talking about this wasn’t working. It made him want to touch her just to avoid these memories and the misery they roused. He shouldn’t use Rosanna like that.

She was trembling but trying to hide it. She stepped just beyond reach each time he brushed too close—hyper aware of his proximity. As he was of hers. That kind of awareness made him wonder about her experience again. Maybe she’d been working too hard for too long and there’d not been the time. Maybe that shyness, that self-consciousness she mentioned had stopped her letting anyone get too close. But now she had no choice.

Yet she wasn’t afraid of him, he didn’t think. She’d trusted him enough to come away with him. To talk to him. But to touch him? She stepped back the very second it looked as if she was about to lean forward and kiss him. As if she were desperately stopping herself.

Maybe that was just desperately wishful thinking on his part.

‘I hear what you’re saying and I’m sorry for what you went through...but it isn’t going to make me change my mind,’ she said. ‘It can’t.’

He felt it as pure challenge. He shouldn’t. This wasn’t a game, there was too much precious at stake. And yet there was that electricity between them that made him want to push closer, to challenge, to make her laugh.

‘Stop worrying,’ he said, to himself as much as anything. ‘I know it’s a little complicated, but it could be worse. At least you’re not my secret stepmother’s illegitimate half-sister’s niece or something really scandalous.’

She laughed and his spirits lightened. He liked it when she laughed. And if he didn’t step away from her right now he was going to break his promises to both of them.

‘Let’s go explore,’ he growled.

Swimming lazily, snorkelling, taking in the stunning sight of the corals beneath the water. It was a hidden garden, a whole world of beauty and wonder. It should have been the perfect distraction—absorbing them both completely. Then they walked along the shore. Even without getting in the water there was so much to observe. She often crouched, gazing at the foliage of some of the plants, watching the insects. Everywhere she looked there was something even more amazing. She couldn’t help pointing things out to him as the joy of discovery overrode her usual quietness. It was lush and vital and unlike anywhere he’d ever been. He felt as if he were living in a wildlife documentary. But the most striking, fascinating creature was the angular, fiery yet pale woman alongside him. She was insightful. Yet also innocent. A pleaser who wanted more for her own children.

He wanted her to stay relaxed and satisfied. Which meant he didn’t want her to worry about anything. The anger he’d felt towards her parents’ betrayal faded slightly in the light of that and in what she’d told him. He was going to have to work something out when they returned to Sydney. He was going to have to fix it.

Two hours later Rosanna sat in the shade and distractedly doodled in her notebook. She couldn’t help thinking about what he’d told her about his mother and his father. It would have been awful, never to have been accepted. That kind of rejection went far further than skin deep. No wonder he had that drive to win. She felt guilty for not cutting the guy some slack. He wanted to do what was right.

He was back in the pool, resting his head on his arms at the edge, the rest of him floating. She sipped sparkling water yet felt that dizzying tingle as if it were champagne. Was she drunk on the mere sight of him? His nearness? Or was it his attention—he’d stayed near her on that walk, looking at the pools she looked into, talking with her at each point. She swept her hair up into a loose ponytail to cool her neck. And now he was looking at her the way he’d looked at the fish she’d pointed out to him earlier.

‘I can feel you staring at me,’ she grumbled. He was making her hands shake.

‘I like watching you.’ He sounded amused.

‘You need a hobby.’

‘Why can’t you be my hobby?’

She braved a look at him. ‘I’ve no plans to be anyone’s plaything.’

‘That wasn’t what I meant.’ His mouth curved dangerously. ‘But it doesn’t seem like that terrible an idea.’

‘Leo...’

He laughed and her world stopped. He was too gorgeous when he smiled and utterly irresistible when he laughed.

‘Sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable, but you fascinate me.’

She shook her head in disbelief. ‘There’s nothing fascinating about me. No mystery.’

‘I think you’re wrong about that. And I like seeing what you notice,’ he added. ‘You’re more observant than anyone I’ve met. You discover the smallest things.’

‘It’s because I take the time to bother. Lots of people are too busy trying to talk or flirt or something.’

A smile flickered but his gaze sharpened. ‘You don’t like to talk? Or flirt?’

She shook her head.

‘There was me thinking redheads were feisty and vivacious and full of spirited temper,’ he teased.

‘Not shy and awkward and basically mute?’ she muttered. ‘Stereotypes don’t help anyone.’

‘You weren’t shy around me. Or awkward. Or basically mute.’ He leaned closer to study her. ‘That night you were the absolute opposite of that.’

She’d been different then. Because she’d lost her reason and let him do anything. Everything.

‘You were different that night too,’ she said. ‘Because, generally, you’re more serious than anyone I’ve ever met,’ she said. ‘Very focused and rigid.’

He stared at her for a second and then laughed again. ‘Rigid?’ He drew a breath. ‘And yet around you I laugh. Often. Isn’t it interesting, the devastating effect we have on each other?’

She swallowed. She didn’t want to talk about the effect he had on her and she couldn’t stay still with him this close. She stalked inside and chose a novel from the shelves in the lounge. She desperately needed distraction.

When she went back to the deck she saw Leo in the distance. He’d taken himself for a run. It was almost an hour before he returned, slick with sweat and effort. He briefly stood beneath the outdoor shower and it took every ounce of her willpower not to drool at the display. Then the infuriating, stunning man dived back into the pool. Rosanna tried to read the novel.

‘Do you even know how to relax?’ Rosanna glared at him when he finally paused for breath.

‘By relax you mean lie about and do nothing?’ He shook his head, spraying droplets of water as he laughed. ‘That’s not how I relax.’

‘I’m lying about doing nothing because I’m not doing nothing. I’m reading. Plus I’m growing babies. Tell me how you supposedly relax, then. At the office?’

‘I enjoy it. It’s exhilarating. There’s always some new challenge.’

And she’d deprived him of that challenge by daring him to take a holiday. She had the horrible feeling she’d become his new challenge.

Surely him busy working would be better than him being fully focused on her? He’d become even more of a temptation with his attention. When he laughed it was as if the biggest fireworks display lit up the dark sky. Brilliance cascaded from him and enveloped her in its spillover, lighting her up. She needed him back on his conference calls or whatever. Not on her.

She couldn’t concentrate on the damn book.