A Tycoon to Be Reckoned With

And then she was gone, whisking away through a little door inset into the wall beside the low stage.

Slowly, Bastiaan sat down. Philip did too, but Bastiaan said nothing—his head was full. Far too full. Only one thought was predominant—he wanted to hear her sing...he wanted to feast his eyes on her again.

Feast so much more than his eyes...

CHAPTER FIVE

AS SARAH TOOK her place on the stage she was burningly aware of those dark, heavy eyes upon her. It was the same sensation she’d had the previous night, when she hadn’t known who was watching her—had only been able to feel it. As she felt it now, again, that same sense of exposure. But now there was so much more—now there was a frisson running through her body, her veins, that came from his heavy-lidded perusal.

Why? The question kept circling in her head. Why was she reacting like this? Why was this man—this dark, disturbing cousin of Philip—able to arouse such a response in her? Never, never before had she been so affected by a man.

By a man’s desire for her.

Because it is a desire that echoes in me too...

That was the truth of it. Out of nowhere, like a bolt of lightning crashing into tinder-dry trees, he’d set her alight....

A sense almost of panic swept over her.

I can’t handle it. I’m not used to it. No man has ever made me feel this way—like I’m on fire, burning from the inside. I don’t know what to do—how to react...

Nothing with Andrew had prepared her for this. Nothing!

I didn’t know it was possible to feel this way. To feel this overwhelmed—this helpless.

This aroused...

Standing there in the spotlight, knowing that the dark, heavy eyes of Bastiaan Karavalas were resting on her, that she was exposed to h

is view, her body had reacted as if her flesh were aflame.

She wanted to run, bolt from the stage, but that was impossible. Impossible to do anything but continue to stand there, the microphone between her fingers, her voice intimate.

While Bastiaan Karavalas looked his fill of her.

No! The cry came from within. It isn’t me he’s gazing at—it’s Sabine. Sabine is standing here, feeling like this.

And Sabine—Sabine could handle it. Of course she could. Sabine was not helpless or overwhelmed by the blatant desire in those dark, heavy eyes.

Or by her own desire...

Sabine was who she must be to cope with what was happening to her, with the fire that was running in her veins, burning her senses. That was what she clung to as she worked her way through her numbers.

Never had her set seemed longer, and how she got through it she wasn’t sure, but in the end she was heading off stage, filled with relief.

As she gained her dressing room she saw Philip waiting. He launched in as soon as he could.

‘Sarah—this Sunday—will you...will you come over to the villa for lunch?’ He got the words out in a rush, his eyes filled with eager hope. ‘I’ve been wanting to ask you, but it was Bast who suggested it.’

She felt a quiver inside her, even though she strove to stanch it. Why? Why had Bastiaan Karavalas suggested inviting her to his villa?

And the only answer she could think of sent that quiver vibrating through her again, quickening her pulse.

I don’t have time for this. I don’t have time to have Bastiaan Karavalas looking at me the way he does, have the impact on me he does. I just don’t have time—not now. And I can’t cope with it anyway—can’t cope with him. I don’t know how to respond or react. And, anyway, it isn’t me he’s inviting—it’s Sabine! Sabine’s the one he’s drawn to—not me. He wants what Sabine would offer him...

The hectic thoughts tumbled through her mind, incoherent and confused. She had to answer somehow—but what? And how?

‘So, will you come? Please say yes,’ Philip’s eager voice pressed.