The Heat Of Passion

'We will fly to Miami to find a dress,' Marika announced cheerfully.

'You pick a designer,' Lukas interrupted with a curled lip. ‘But he will fly here.'

'I really cannot arrange a wedding in that timespan,’ Sunny said thinly, coldly.

'Whaf s it got to do with you?' Lukas snorted. 'Marika will take care of it all.'

It was without doubt the most strained meal Jessica had ever endured. When Lukas went off to rest, as was apparently his habit in the afternoon, she left the table with relief and started for the steps.

'Jessica...'

Halfway down, she spun, stilled by Carlo's voice. He drew level with her, very tall and very lean and very dark and quite extravagantly gorgeous in the first casual clothing she had ever seen him in. Faded jeans sleekly

encased his narrow hips and long, powerful legs, a short-sleeved cotton shirt open at his brown throat. Hurriedly, Jessica dragged her gaze from him. And then, above at the top of the steps, she saw Sunny standing there, watching them. She looked furious.

'And how do you plan to get us out of the wedding?' Jessica enquired tightly.

Carlo threw back his black head and suddenly laughed. 'I don't!'

She couldn't believe what she was hearing and looked back at him in shock.

"The only escape would be to tell the truth,' Carlo pointed out gently. 'And that is quite out of the question.'

'You could tell him that you're not sure of your feelings for me!' Jessica protested tautly.

Carlo moved on down the steps in front of her. 'That

would be the very last excuse I would offer '

'But why?' Jessica demanded in furious frustration. 'He's been married four times himself! Surely he would understand?'

Carlo didn't respond. Infuriatingly, he moved fluidly on down to the beach. She caught up with him breathlessly.

'Let's go sailing,' he suggested lazily as if the previous conversation had been most definitely concluded.

'CarloV Jessica gritted, struggling to match her pace to the long stride heading in the direction of the wooden jetty where a large and immaculate white yacht was moored.

'We get married, then we divorce,' Carlo breathed impatiently. 'No big deal!'

Jessica couldn't credit his attitude. 'It's a heck of a big deal to me!'

Carlo stilled and scanned her with hooded dark eyes. 'Really, coral You married Turner without love... why not me?'

Attacked by such open derision, she paled. 'That... that isn't true.'

'If you had really loved him, you would never have allowed me to lay a finger upon you,' Carlo murmured drily.

'You're trying to change the subject '

'Why should I need to? We made a deal. Three months of your freedom,' Carlo reminded her, his sunbronzed profile hardening. 'And having seen my father, I think it highly unlikely that he will survive half that period.'

Involuntarily, she felt his pain at that estimation. It was there in his roughened voice and tautening features, but Jessica felt that pain on a deeper level, her own feelings for Carlo heightening her sensitivity. He really did care about his father. For the first time, she acknowledged that truth and the unlikelihood of Carlo's cherishing purely mercenary motives for their fake engagement. Maybe it was all just as it seemed on the surface. Lukas was delighted at the idea of Carlo marrying and Carlo was prepared to pretend to give that pleasure.

'I'm sorry,' she muttered, her throat thickening. 'You must wish you had come here years ago——’

'No. It is only working now on these terms,' Carlo retorted flatly. 'Lukas and I have never got on. I believe it is often so with father and son. Only the lack of time brings us together. It makes me more tolerant and him more generous...'

With a mighty effort of will, she fought an over