But as he mentally filed away the information he was given, different images started crowding into his mind. Images which were painful and unwelcome. He tried to block them out, just as he’d spent the last four months blocking them, but for once it wasn’t working. He stared at his
walking stick and suddenly found himself remembering the accident with a crystal clarity which made him flinch.
It was all too easy to recall that strange split second of calm, moments before impact. And then the deafening crumple of metal as his car had smashed into the side of the track. He closed his eyes as he remembered the stench of burning rubber and the first hot lick of flames as the car had ignited around him. The distant sirens and muffled shouts of his rescuers had grown louder with their sense of urgency and panic. He remembered being trapped in that metal coffin, thinking that he was about to die.
And if he had died? What would he have had to show for his life? A bloated bank account and a shelf full of trophies. His mouth hardened. It wasn’t much of a legacy, was it?
The sound of a bird calling out from one of the trees brought him back to the present. He looked around at the luxury pool and the villa which rose like an elaborate white cake out of the tiered green gardens. Dusky-pink roses and starry-white jasmine scented the air and his senses suddenly felt saturated. How beautiful it was, he thought, and, ultimately, how fragile. It could all be over in a heartbeat.
Couldn’t it?
He felt something flicker and power into life inside him as he began walking towards the massage room, like a man in a trance.
Quietly opening the door, he blinked against the subdued light to see Carly with her back to him, lining up bottles of aromatic oils in a neat row. He stared at the set of her shoulders and the ponytail which hung down her back and he knew the exact moment when she heard him enter, for her long fingers stilled on a small vial which looked like some alchemist’s potion. She had changed into her uniform and the ice-blue dress stretched across the broad beam of her bottom, emphasising its generous curves.
He also knew the exact moment when his painful recall became transmuted into desire. Only this time it wasn’t the low-grade variety which had been nagging away at him for weeks. Suddenly it was gathering all the force of a tidal wave—whipped up by soft dulce de leche flesh and eyes the colour of iced tea.
He could smell the subtle bayleaf scent of her hair as she turned round and flicked her ponytail back and the gesture made her breasts jiggle beneath the uniform dress. Automatically, his gaze lingered on them and it took all his concentration to lift his eyes to her face.
‘You...startled me,’ she said.
‘That wasn’t my intention.’
‘Where’s your stick?’
With a start he looked down at his empty hands, only just noticing that he’d left it behind. ‘I didn’t even realise,’ he said. ‘I must have left it by the pool.’
‘I’ll go and get it for you.’
‘No,’ he said suddenly. ‘I don’t need it any more.’
‘I think that’s something your doctor should decide.’
‘My doctor’s not here, Carly.’ He began to walk across the room towards her. And suddenly he was walking completely unaided, consciously free of support for the first time in months and he gave a low shout of laughter at the sense of exhilaration he felt. ‘But you are.’
‘I’m not qualified to give medical advice.’
‘I don’t need any medical advice,’ he said, his shadow falling over her face as he came to a halt right in front of her. ‘At least, not for what I’m planning to do.’
‘Oh? And what’s that?’ she questioned lightly, as if there weren’t a hundred dark undercurrents flowing between them. As if her darkened eyes weren’t unconsciously begging for him to kiss her.
‘You’re an intelligent woman, Carly. Don’t ask questions to which you already know the answer.’
Her eyes were huge as she looked at him, but they were wary, too. She shook her head and he could see the rippling movement of her throat before she spoke, as if she were trying to swallow something which was stuck there. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Oh, please. Don’t pretend, Carly. You’re too clever for that. Unless you’re trying to deny the chemistry which has been building for weeks, or that you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you. You’re driving me out of my mind with frustration, and I have the feeling that if I don’t do something about it soon, then one or both of us are going to go crazy.’
Carly was trembling as he reached out and coiled his fingers around the back of her head and the unthreatening nature of the gesture meant that she found herself sinking into it. And once she had let him touch her, she was lost. She tried to think logically. To be that person who was good at science. To concentrate on the million reasons why this shouldn’t happen. But all she could think of was how mesmerising it felt to have the tips of his fingers rubbing at her scalp like that, as if he was giving her an impromptu head massage. As if the tables had turned and he was the one now in charge. Oh, yes. He was definitely the one in charge. She could feel her eyelashes fluttering and the lids suddenly felt unbearably heavy. ‘We can’t do this,’ she said desperately.
‘Why not?’
‘You know why not. I work for you—’
‘I’ll give you dispensation, starting from now.’
‘That’s not funny.’
‘It wasn’t intended to be funny. I’ve never been more serious.’