* * *
His heart was aching. He hadn’t anticipated such a rush of emotion, but this was his first morning on the island since Raoul’s funeral. As he plunged into the sea, the dash of cold water reminded him that everything he was doing now, he’d done with Raoul, but they would never swim together, or laugh together again.
How had it come to this? How could Raoul possibly be dead?
Treading water, he glanced up the cliff path towards the guest cottage where he guessed Jen would still be fast asleep. It stung him to think she knew more about Raoul than he did. He wanted to question her and demand answers, and not just about the will, but he had no right to do that. He’d lost that right when he lost touch with his brother.
He powered out to sea, still thinking about Jen. His hunger for her refused to be subdued. Turning his face into the surf, he dived deep. He had to get rid of his energy somehow. Even the darker, cooler water couldn’t help him. No matter what he did, Jen was still at the forefront of his mind, and the urge to hold her, touch her, and watch her respond as he pleasured her, was all it took to keep him painfully aroused.
* * *
The beach! At last, the beach! What was it about a beach that filled her with such excitement? Freedom, Jen concluded. Fresh air, wide spaces and the anticipation of discovering pirate treasure—or maybe just a curious crab scuttling sideways in a rock pool. The same thoughts she’d had as a child filled her now. Lyddie would have loved this.
Running barefoot towards the sea, she emptied her mind of everything but the glorious sense of freedom. She was eager for the shock of the chilly, early-morning waves closing around her sleep-warmed body. For a city dweller this was luxury indeed. The sky was blue, the sun was warm, and the sand was soft beneath her feet, and the sea looked absolutely perfect. As smooth as glass, it was as inviting as a cool bath on a hot day.
She had barely spared any time to investigate her dressing room, and had just rushed in and flung open all the drawers in a frenzy of excitement in the hunt for a swimsuit. Grabbing the first one she found, she had exclaimed with relief when she’d put it on and found it was reasonably modest, and in the nice bright blue that she loved. It fitted her perfectly too. Throwing a sundress over it, she had run out of the cottage, calling good morning to Maria, who was just arriving as she ran.
‘I’ll cook breakfast,’ she’d called out. ‘Don’t you worry about it, Maria. Take the morning off—see you later!’ And with that, she had run and run and run.
Stopping on the shoreline at the edge of the sparkling surf’s big lace frill, she turned her face up to the sky. Closing her eyes, she dragged deep on the ozone-packed air. She was tempted to stand and bask in the warming rays of the sun a few minutes longer, but the sea was calling to her—
‘Jen—’
She swung around with shock. ‘Luca!’ He was dripping with seawater, his bronzed body gleaming. ‘You startled me.’
Black swimming shorts clung wetly to his taut, muscular thighs. His legs were lean and long, and muscles flexed on the wide spread of his shoulders. The thought of pressing against him and feeling her soft curves yield to his steel perfection shouldn’t be anywhere in her mind, but it was right up there, and her nipples inconveniently peaked. Crossing her arms over her chest, she brazened it out. ‘Good morning—I hope you slept well?’
‘Extremely well, thank you.’
Liar, she thought, noting the dark circles beneath Luca’s eyes. It must have been hard for him coming back here after his brother’s funeral, she reasoned.
‘And you?’ he pressed.
‘I slept very well, thank you,’ she confirmed, leaving out the bit where Luca had taken a starring role in all her erotic dreams. His physical presence half naked was enough to scramble the clearest of minds. ‘Have you finished swimming for the day?’
‘I had.’
As his face grew thoughtful, she said gently, ‘You must miss Raoul. I miss Lyddie.’ She gazed around. ‘She would have loved it here.’
‘Life moves on,’ Luca said abruptly.
She didn’t believe his apparent detachment for a single second. ‘Sometimes it’s good to remember, even if memories make us sad.’
This garnered her a long, searching look, but he made no comment.
‘If you’re going back in the sea, would you like to race me?’ she suggested.
His answer to this was an incredulous look.
‘I’m not bad in the water,’ she confessed. ‘But, if you don’t feel up to it,’ she teased in an attempt to shake him out of his dark mood.
‘Not up to it?’ Luca said, frowning.
He was standing within touching distance. He towered over her. He blotted out the sun. She was tiny by comparison to Luca, but no smaller in spirit, Jen determined.
‘Well, I’m ready to go swimming,’ she said, stepping back—straight onto the sharp edge of a shell!
As she yowled with pain Luca grabbed hold of her. His reactions were whip-fast, and suddenly she was in his arms. Pressed up hard against him was everything she had dreamed about—and everything that her sensible se
lf should avoid. Closing her eyes, she tried to steady her breathing, and with that her imagination took flight. Would he kiss her?
What a ridiculous thought! Jen scowled as she quickly pulled away.
‘Are you okay?’ Luca asked with concern.
‘I’m fine, but thanks for the save. I owe you.’
‘The next time I fall over, I’ll know who to call.’
His eyes were dancing with laughter, while her cheeks blazed red. Her body took some time to stop resonating to the possibility of a kiss, though that chance was long gone now. And thank goodness, she thought.
‘Let me see your foot,’ Luca insisted.
‘I’ve told you—I’m fine.’
‘Let me see it—’
Before she could argue, Luca was on his knees in front of her.
‘Rest your hands on my shoulders,’ he insisted, ‘while I take a proper look.’
He glanced up to make sure she was going to do as he said, Jen presumed. Those eyes...and his shoulders felt so warm beneath her touch. She could feel the play of muscle beneath his tanned skin when he moved.
Taking hold of her ankle, Luca rested her foot on his thigh. His touch was so gentle it surprised her. It was a long time since anyone had shown her this sort of care, and her emotions rushed to the surface.
As he examined Jen’s foot he marvelled at how tiny her feet were, and how soft. Her toenails were like tiny pink shells.
‘No damage done,’ he confirmed, springing up. ‘You’re lucky you didn’t break the skin.’
‘Thanks for checking,’ she said brightly, and then her gaze dropped to his mouth.
She wanted him to kiss her, he guessed, but her eyes were troubled. Her body yearned for comfort, while her mind yearned for something more. ‘You proposed a race?’ he said, turning to face the sea. ‘To that red buoy and back? I’ll give you a head start.’