‘I seem to know a lot about you, my dear secretary. Maybe it’s been a process of osmosis over the many months you’ve worked for me...’
He heaved himself up and extended his hand, inviting her to take it, which she did.
His eyes roamed appreciatively over her naked body as she stood up, long and slender, with the grace of a ballet dancer. It was a body that should never have been concealed beneath dreary work clothes and prim, unappealing suits.
‘I think your pubic hair is going lighter in the sun,’ he commented.
Emily grinned and reddened. His fingers were curled into hers and it felt...comfortable.
‘I could say the same about you,’ she retorted, half running and dragging him along.
‘You couldn’t.’ He spun her round, held her tight and devoured her mouth in a long, leisurely kiss. ‘I’m brown and my hair everywhere is dark. Dark enough to defy all attempts by the sun to lighten it. What colour hair does the fiancé have?’
He hadn’t meant to ask that. In fact he had decided to avoid all mention of her fiancé. As far as he was concerned, as long as they were out here, the man didn’t exist. He had no idea if she spoke to him daily or not at all.
So how was it that the question had slipped out so easily? And, now that it had, how did it make sense that he was eagerly waiting for the answer? When he couldn’t care less?
‘Fair.’ She turned away, not wanting to prolong any conversation on the subject of Oliver.
She had spoken to him a couple of times since they had arrived on the island. Now and again her decision to marry him, for reasons that had made perfect sense before she had become involved with Leandro, jarred on her conscience, no longer seemed quite so clear cut.
She hit the water and dismissed her misgivings by diving in, enjoying the cool against her skin after the heat. She swam out and continued swimming, further than she would normally have done, and only spluttered to a stop when she felt Leandro’s arms around her.
‘So you don’t want to talk about him?’ he heard himself say.
They could both still touch the sand but the water was past their waists.
‘No, I don’t.’
She looked away from him but he caught her face in his hand.
‘Why not?’
‘Because... You know why, Leandro...’
‘Because you don’t want to be reminded that I’m your dirty little secret?’
‘No!’
‘What would you say if I told you that that’s how I feel?’
‘I wouldn’t believe you.’ Her heart was beating wildly. ‘I mean, we both know that this is just a temporary thing...’ And yet why did she wince when she uttered those words which were nothing less than the truth?
Their eyes tangled and he released her. ‘Swim back to shore, Emily. I need to head out further.’
‘Okay.’
Leandro scowled. She was desperate to get rid of him—desperate to avoid any conversation that might compromise her sense of morality, which was kept conveniently under wraps while she slept with him here but which would, without a shadow of doubt, regain the high ground the second the plane touched down at Heathrow in a matter of a few scant days.
He struck out with the restless feeling that their conversation was not over, and when he finally turned around to head back to the beach, after twenty minutes of vigorous swimming, he had come to the decision that he wasn’t going to let it rest.
It irked him further to find that she was in her swimsuit waiting for him, sunglasses in place, hat on, book in hand.
‘I thought we could have some lunch now.’ Emily licked her lips nervously and laid the book down on the towel next to her.
‘Is that why you decided to don the swimsuit?’ Leandro reached for his towel, roughly dried himself and then slung the towel loosely round his waist. ‘Because you thought that it was time for lunch?’
He sat down, positioning himself neatly in front of the cooler so that she couldn’t busy herself taking food out and pouring drinks when they still had a conversation to finish.
‘We only have a couple more days left here,’ he said.
‘I know.’ Emily resigned herself to a conversation she wasn’t sure she wanted. ‘I think we’ve accomplished everything that we...er...set out to do.’
‘I’m surprised you still include yourself in this project when you’ll be quitting pretty much as soon as we return to London.’
‘I said that I’d stay to effect a hand-over with my replacement and I will.’
Leandro ignored her pedestrian foray into a discussion about work. He wasn’t in the mood.
Instead he looked at her in silence for such a long time that she eventually broke eye contact and stared out to sea.
‘So, are we going to talk about what’s happening between us?’
Leandro’s body language mirrored hers, but he was one hundred per cent focused on her, even though he, too, was staring out to sea. He could feel her next to him and was alert to every shift in her position. He was aware of her tension, and of her reluctance to be drawn into talking about what he intended to talk about.
Emily shrugged and he fought down a wave of intense irritation. For some reason he was on the back foot and it annoyed the hell out of him. When it came to women it was not in him to pursue. But this felt like pursuit. He told himself that of course it wasn’t. It was the purely understandable reaction of a man facing the demise of a sexual relationship which he knew neither he nor his lover really wanted to end. He wasn’t chasing. He was expressing a natural curiosity as to what happened next.
‘I don’t see the point,’ she mumbled at last.
He turned to her, and although he was perfectly still there was a savage intensity to his voice that made her stiffen.
‘Can you honestly tell me that you want what we have to end when we return to London?’
‘It doesn’t matter whether I want it to end or not.’
‘I want you to look at me when I’m talking to you.’
Emily reluctantly shifted so that she was facing him.
‘And I want to see your eyes.’
He reached across and whipped off her sunglasses so that she immediately felt vulnerable and unprotected.
More than anything else she wished that he would just drop this—wished that they could return to the physicality that was as addictive as a drug. She didn’t want to think about whether she wanted this to continue or not when they returned to London because as far as she was concerned there was no option. It would have to end—like it or not. For reasons that were not in her control.
‘So talk to me,’ he commanded roughly. ‘Tell me how it is that you can square this with your conscience—marry another man when you still burn for me.’
‘I...’
‘Yes?’
‘I told you... I’m not romantic like...like all those other women you’ve gone out with...’
‘I get it. You had a bloody awful learning curve when you were young. But don’t tell me that you would sacrifice your life on the back of that.’
‘I wouldn’t be sacrificing my life, Leandro.’
‘You would be making a foolish choice, and once that choice has been made you will find yourself nailed to it and unable to break free if you should ever want to.’
‘There is such a thing as divorce...’
‘I don’t believe I’m hearing this.’
‘And I don’t believe that we’re having this conversation!’ Emily cried. ‘You should be thankful that I’m not one of those clingy women who wants to latch onto you and never let go! You should be glad that you don’t have to deal with mopping up my tears because you want to get rid of me and I won’t let you!’
‘I should be, shouldn’t I...? And yet all I can do is feel pity for a woman who’s about to commit herself to a loveless marriage, for reasons best known to her, with the opt out clause of divorce if it proves to be the disaster it undoubtedly will...’
He swivelled round and began offloading the cooler, but his appetite was non-existent.
‘I knew you would think less of me if we became...became...if we slept together!’
‘You’re right. I have no admiration for what you’re doing.’
‘There’s a lot you don’t know.’
‘Then why don’t you try telling me?’
Silence thickened between them.
‘Oh, I see. None of my business.’
‘What do you want from me?’
‘Honest answer?’ He paused and looked her directly in the eye. ‘I want you to have the courage to admit that it would be a mistake to marry a man when you’re clearly hot for another one.’
‘It’s not all about sex.’
‘You want me. That’s not going to go away when we return to London and you step back into your prim little work suits...’
‘That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?’ Agitated, Emily sprang to her feet and spun round to stare down at him. ‘You’re not ready for this to end because you always dictate the terms of your relationships, don’t you?’