A Tycoon to Be Reckoned With

Surely she doesn’t think I’m encouraging Philip? Sarah thought.

Another thought struck her, even more unwelcome. Did Bastiaan think that as well?

No, he couldn’t. Of course not! She was doing her utmost to be nothing more than casually friendly—easy-going and relaxed, spending most of her time deflecting his compliments to her. A man as worldly-wise as Bastiaan Karavalas would surely be able to read her reaction to Philip’s youthful ardency as easily as if she had written it large.

As easily as he must be able to read my reaction to him...

She felt her stomach clench. The knowledge that Bastiaan Karavalas could see into her feelings towards him was both dismaying and arousing. Fiercely she tried to suppress the arousal, but even as she tried she felt her eyes going to him, almost meeting his as they did so, before she continued handing plates to the unappreciative Paulette. And she felt, in that fleeting mingling before she dipped her lashes to veil her eyes, the tremor of attraction flare and catch.

He knows how he affects me—knows how he makes me feel. It’s impossible to hide it from him.

A thought speared into her troubled consciousness. Coming without volition. What if Philip knew how attracted she was to his cousin? What if she responded openly to Bastiaan Karavalas’s desire for her—hers for him? Would that destroy Philip’s crush for her in an instant? Surely it would. It might be harsh, but it would be effective.

And it would give me a reason to succumb to what is happening to me.

As if standing on the edge of a precipice, she hauled herself back from the brink. Was she insane to think such a thing? She must be. Whether she was being Sabine or herself, whether Philip did or did not have a hopeless infatuation with her, Bastiaan Karavalas had no place in her life—none. Whatever the power of his sensual impact on her, she must ignore it. Suppress it. Walk away from it.

Speak to Bastiaan this afternoon—explain how he should take Philip away—and then get back to what is important. The only thing that is important to you at this time.

Making her final attempt to launch her professional career. Nothing else. No one else.

‘Sab, did you bring your swimming costume?’

Philip’s question cut across her thoughts. She looked startled. ‘No—no, I didn’t.’

His face fell, then brightened as Bastiaan spoke.

‘No problem. There’s a wide collection of assorted swimwear in the guest suites. I’m sure there’ll be something to fit you.’ Bastiaan’s eyes glanced over her, as if assessing her figure’s size, and her eyes automatically went to his as he spoke.

‘Great!’ exclaimed Philip. ‘When we’ve had coffee I’ll show you where to change.’

She gave him a flickering uncertain smile. She ought to make her excuses and leave—try and have that word she needed with Bastiaan before she did so. But as she sat sipping her coffee, replete with lunch, champagne coursing gently in her veins, she had no energy to make such a move.

Her gaze slipped out over the beautiful gardens beyond the terrace. Out of nowhere she felt a different mood take hold as she committed herself to staying longer. It really was so beautiful here, with the gardens and the dazzlingly blue sea beyond. All she ever saw of the Côte d’Azur was the walk back to her pension and the local shops around the harbour. By day she was focussed only on rehearsals, by night she posed as Sabine. A relentless schedule of work. Why not relax a little now?

Why don’t I make the most of being here? Who could ask for anything more lovely and enjoyable? And surely the longer I spend in Bastiaan’s company the more used I’ll get to him—the more immune I’ll feel. The less I’ll react to him.

Yes, that was the way to look at it. Extended exposure to him would surely help to dissipate this ridiculous flaring of her senses every time he glanced at her...

It was a confidence that was comprehensively annihilated as she emerged from the villa in the swimsuit Philip had found for her. Even though it was a one-piece, and she had a matching turquoise sarong wrapped around her, she burned with self-consciousness as she felt Bastiaan’s eyes go straight to her from where he and Philip waited by the pool loungers.

But it was not just her own body that she was so conscious of. Nor was it the sight of Philip, his slenderly youthful physique clad in colourful board shorts with a fashionable logo, sporting snazzy

wrap-around sunglasses that was causing her breath to catch. No, it was the way her eyes had gone immediately to the powerful torso of Bastiaan...to the sculpted pecs and abs, the strong biceps and wide shoulders. His hip-hugging dark blue trunks were sober compared with Philip’s. His eyes were not shaded by dark glasses, and she could feel the impact of his gaze full on, even through her own sunglasses.

She made a play of making herself comfortable on a sun lounger, and then—again self-consciously—she unknotted the sarong and let it fall to either side of her, exposing her swimsuit-clad body and bare thighs.

‘The bikinis didn’t tempt you?’

Bastiaan’s deep voice threw the question at her and Sarah gave an inner shudder at the thought of exposing even more flesh to Bastiaan Karavalas.

‘They’re hopeless for swimming in,’ she said lightly. She relaxed her shoulders into the cushioned lounger and lifted her face to the sun. ‘Oh, this is gorgeous,’ she said feelingly, as the heat of the sun started to penetrate her skin after the cool of the interior of the house.

‘Are you a sun-worshipper?’ Bastiaan asked, amusement in his voice.

‘When I can be,’ she answered, still lightly.

‘I’m surprised you’re not more tanned, given that you only work nights,’ he said.