‘Come here.’ Donato put out his hand. ‘You need someone to help you feel better. I’m just the man.’
His invitation wasn’t entirely selfish. He didn’t like her troubled expression, knowing Sanderson had caused it. Another reason to hate the man.
Ella lifted her hand as if to take his, then stopped.
‘No.’ Her hand dropped and Donato was surprised at the strength of his disappointment. ‘Thank you. But...’ She shook her head and the afternoon sun caught the sheen of honey gilt. ‘I need to go.’
Donato was about to insist she remain when he read the strain around her mouth. He knew he could have her in his bed all night, enjoying what his body urged him to take. He could weasel the information he wanted after breaking down her defences.
He let his arm fall. He wanted Ella’s passion and her sweet body. He wanted to understand her and her relationship with her father. But he wouldn’t seduce the details from her.
His belly churned in a moment of unfamiliar disquiet. He was already taking advantage, pretending to want marriage. It wasn’t just Sanderson pressuring her, putting the shadows beneath her bright eyes.
Amazingly, for the first time in years, doubt shivered through what passed for his conscience. More than doubt, it was guilt, its sharp blade scraping.
Donato sat up, his jaw setting as Ella gathered her clothes. She might be vulnerable and sassy, sexy and funny and, he suspected, brave, but he couldn’t allow her to stand in the way of justice.
Nothing would save Reg Sanderson from his deserts. Not even the fact his daughter was the most appealing, fascinating woman Donato could recall knowing.
He stood, retrieving her floaty top that had landed on the day bed’s high canopy.
‘Thank you.’ Her eyes didn’t meet his and he caught again that hint of embarrassment.
Their hands brushed and sensation jolted. Maldición! Need was like an electric current running through him.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
She shook her head and he had to restrain himself from catching those honey-brown tresses and hauling her close again.
‘I’m busy.’
‘Be ready at nine. I’ll collect you.’
‘You don’t know where I live. And you promised not to set your investigators onto me.’
Donato suppressed a smile. That was better. Her eyes shone with challenge and her chin notched high.
‘I didn’t promise not to follow you home.’ He let that sink in. ‘I’ll just toss on some clothes.’ He reached for his shirt, absently noting a couple of missing buttons.
Her deep sigh drew his attention. Despite her defiant air, she clutched her clothes close, hiding herself. As if he couldn’t perfectly recall those enticing curves.
‘Okay. I’ll meet you tomorrow. I’ll come here at midday.’
‘Nine.’
‘Eleven.’
‘Nine.’ He brushed her hair off her cheek. ‘And I promise not to ring you after midnight.’ She shivered and he moved closer, inhaling her skin’s delicate perfume, like sweet peas and sunshine.
‘Nine-thirty, then. And you won’t call me at all.’
Donato didn’t say anything. If she thought he’d pass up a chance to hear her voice, husky and delicious, when he couldn’t have her in his bed...well, she didn’t know him yet.
* * *
‘That’s it. You’ve got the hang of it now.’ Donato’s voice was warm with approval and encouragement and Ella felt emotion flare. Pleasure? Pride? Or excitement at being so close to him?
No time to work it out now. She had to concentrate.
‘Shift your left hand.’
She watched as Donato demonstrated. Like her, he was suspended on a rope, halfway down a rock face. Except, unlike her, he was perfectly at ease. His eyes danced with pleasure and she’d seen his exhilaration earlier as he’d abseiled down the cliff then swarmed back up with an efficiency that left her in breathless awe.
She knew he was strong. It was two weeks since she’d become intimately acquainted with his body. But seeing him now she realised how carefully he leashed that power when they made love.
‘Ella? Are you okay?’
‘Fine.’ She wrenched her gaze to the rock and made herself concentrate on his instructions. Carefully she stepped backwards, feeling the rope play out in her gloved hand.
‘Perfect. You’ve got it.’
Delight filled her. It was partly the thrill of abseiling and partly the effect of his approval.