Rebel's Bargain

Of course he did.

Orsino lived for challenge, for the rush of the next dangerous adventure. How could he turn his back on the prospect of bedding and besting the one woman who’d ever managed to hurt him? He felt more alive when he was with her than scaling the most insurmountable peak.

The realisation punched the air from his lungs.

All these years of thrill seeking and none had surpassed the raw, vibrant adrenaline rush of sparring with Poppy.

Orsino dragged in a rough breath, feeling his battered ribs protest. A shiver rippled through him as he digested the revelation. This game was more dangerous than he’d anticipated.

But since when had he turned his back on danger?

Deliberately he crossed the foyer and, grasping the curved handrail, began to climb the ancient stone steps. It was harder than he liked. His injured side pulsed with the effort.

He gritted his teeth. The sooner he started using his body, the sooner it would mend.

By the time he was halfway up he was sweating, his hand clammy on the railing.

‘Here, let me help.’

It was Poppy, coming down to support him. Despite the tight set of her lips, was that concern wrinkling her brow?

‘Sure you wouldn’t rather push me down the stairs?’

‘Don’t give me ideas, Orsino. You don’t know how tempting that is.’ Her mouth twitched and he wondered if she was repressing a smile or the urge to lambast him. ‘You need to be in bed. What the hospital was doing releasing you in this state, I don’t know.’

‘I insisted,’ he managed between gritted teeth. He felt ridiculously done in by a simple flight of stairs. ‘Those four walls were driving me crazy.’

‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’ She had her arm around him, her breast soft against his side. Orsino dragged in a quick breath and tried to focus.

Finally they reached the floor and she led him across the landing.

They moved into a vast, almost circular room, dominated by a wide, velvet-covered bed and a series of windows showing different aspects of the formal gardens and river. Once inside Poppy stepped away.

‘I hope you’re not going to have a relapse. You’ll be alone here while I’m working.’

‘Not completely. I’ll have a health visitor later today.’

‘You will?’ Her eyebrows rose. ‘I didn’t think the hospital could organise that in another country.’

Orsino shook his head and eased himself into a stately wing chair, his body sighing with relief. ‘Not the hospital but my secretary. The one you doubted actually existed. She’s also arranged for me to meet another eye specialist here in France. Very efficient, she is.’

‘Obviously.’ Poppy peeled back the quilt from the bed and picked up a folded sheet from a nearby chair, lifting it high and snapping it out over the bed. ‘I assume she was responsible for the new luggage waiting for you when we touched down.’

‘A man has his needs and she’s excellent at anticipating them.’ He thought of the laptop stacked with the rest of the luggage downstairs and told himself there’d be time for that later. His appalling weakness at merely climbing a staircase troubled him.

‘She sounds like a paragon. I take it she’s used to working miracles anywhere around the globe.’

‘Naturally.’

‘She must be quite a woman.’ Poppy’s voice was clipped, almost disapproving. Did she think his secretary looked after his more personal needs? The idea intrigued.

Orsino watched her swift, decisive movements, smoothing the sheet with a brisk arc of her hand. No doubt she wished she could wipe him out of her life as easily as she cleared the wrinkles in the cotton.

‘Oh, she is that. Quite amazing.’

Poppy stiffened, shooting him a darting glance, and he suppressed a smile. No doubt about it, despite her anger, his wife was more than a little interested in his relationship with his secretary. He had no intention of letting on that Bettina was a sixty-year-old, wheelchair-bound grandmother. Let Poppy assume he had a sexpot catering to his every whim.

Sitting back, he enjoyed the view as Poppy stretched and bent, making the bed. Supple as ever, her body was slender but strong. His body’s dull aches retreated as he let himself imagine her naked on those crisp sheets.

‘Is this your bed?’

She stiffened then walked around to the other side, moving with a graceful economy of movement.

‘Hardly. I’m on the next floor.’

That settled it. The sooner he conquered those stairs, the better. He needed to be fully mobile.

‘Did you say something?’ She regarded him suspiciously.

He shook his head and favoured her with a smile. Instantly she froze.

‘Before you go, I’d appreciate some help with this shirt and jacket.’