You just gave her what she wants. She wanted to get out of jail free and you just signed the release slip.

Dominique came out with the main course just as Lily breezed past. The housekeeper turned and looked at Raoul with a crestfallen expression. ‘What’s going on? I thought you two were getting on like a house on fire.’

Raoul wheeled back from the table with an angry scowl. ‘Don’t ask or I’ll fire you on the spot.’

CHAPTER EIGHT

IT WAS TOO hot to sleep. Or maybe it wasn’t the summer temperature at all but rather Lily’s overheated temper. She was packed and ready to leave, as Raoul Caffarelli had so rudely commanded, but a part of her was struggling with taking the easy way out.

To leave would be admitting defeat.

Raoul was certainly a challenge, with his forceful personality and stubborn ways, but underneath that brooding, angry and resentful exterior she sensed he was essentially a good man. Didn’t his care and support of the former street kid Etienne prove it? He treated all of his staff cordially, if a little distantly. He had not said a bad word about his ex-fiancée, publically or privately, even though she had clearly hurt him by rejecting him the way she had. Didn’t that suggest he was at heart a decent and honourable man?

He was angry and bitter and finding it hard to cope with what had happened to him. Lily understood that far more than he could ever realise. She had railed at the world, too. She had pushed everyone who cared about her away. She had felt so dreadfully alone but she had sabotaged every attempt to reach her emotionally.

Wasn’t he doing the same?

What if she could help him? It seemed a shame to walk out and leave him to his own devices. Like a lot of men with an achievement-based personality, he had a tendency to overdo things, which could compromise his recovery. But he had more feeling in his legs than the Sheikh’s daughter Halimah had at the start, and he was incredibly fit and strong.

But he had made up his mind, and she couldn’t see him changing it any time soon. She had her money and that was all that mattered. It would be embarrassing going back to London so soon, but that was hardly her fault. Raoul Caffarelli would test an angel’s patience, and she knew she was no angel, or at least not in his presence. He seemed to bring out the worst in her. She hadn’t realised she had a sharp tongue until he had made her use it.

He was rude and arrogant and she was glad to be leaving.

Of course she was glad.

She hadn’t wanted to come in the first place. Her life was in London. It might be a little predictable and boring at times, but at least she didn’t have to deal with brooding, handsome men with foul tempers.

Lily threw off the bedcovers and padded over to the window to look at the moonlit gardens her bedroom overlooked. There was a swimming pool she hadn’t noticed before in a sheltered section of the back garden. Its surface shimmered in the silver light of the moon, tempting her with its promise of cool refreshment from the night’s sticky and cloying humidity.

It had been a long time since she had swum in public. The work she did with clients in the hydrotherapy pool at the clinic could hardly be called swimming. She spent most of the time standing waist-deep, guiding the client through a range of exercises. Her ‘bathing costume’ was a modest one-piece suit with a long-sleeved rash vest over the top, which she told her clients was to protect her skin from the chlorine.

The thought of a swim on a hot night in a secluded garden with only the light of the moon was a temptation she was powerless to resist. Given how reluctant Raoul was to come outdoors, it was reasonable to assume he wouldn’t witness her midnight dip. It would be her way of putting her nose up at him one last time; her chance of having the last word. She would use his pool without his knowledge or permission and she would enjoy every minute of her little act of rebellion.

Lily picked up her one-piece and vest. Was it her imagination or did the fabric feel thicker and pricklier than normal? After a moment of deliberation she tossed it aside, picked up a matching set of bra and knickers and a lightweight cotton T-shirt to go over the top. If she was going to swim, then she was going to do it properly.

Once she was dressed in her makeshift costume she took a fluffy towel from her en suite bathroom and tiptoed downstairs, keeping an eye and ear out for anyone moving about, but the methodical ticking of the ancient grandfather clock on the second landing was the only sound in the silence.

The flagstones in the private section of the garden where the pool was situated were still warm from the summer sun beaming down on them all day, but the water of the pool was deliciously cool as she tested it with her fingertips.

Lily sat on the edge of the pool and dangled her legs in the water. The splish-splash movement of the water against her legs seemed deafening in the silence.

She took a breath and slipped into the cool, silky embrace of the water. It lifted the hairs from her scalp, playing with them in a watery dance that made her aware of every inch of her flesh. She duck dived to the bottom of the pool and swam like a mermaid with dolphin-like undulations of her body, feeling free in a way she hadn’t felt

in years.

She came back up to the surface and swam lap after lap, the rhythmic movement of her limbs lulling her into a state of calm that was both meditative and incredibly soothing.

She had no idea how far or for how long she had been swimming. She had made a vain attempt to count her laps in the beginning, but her mind had drifted into blissful numbness after the first ten or so. She was totally in the moment, feeling the water move over her skin, feeling the contraction and pull of her muscles as she carved through the resistance of the cool, refreshing fluid that surrounded her. She was weightless, yet strong. Her body felt invigorated, tired yet satisfied, her blood singing around her veins in delight at being active after spending so much time indoors.

Lily finally surfaced at one end and threw back the long wet curtain of her hair. But when she opened her eyes she found Raoul sitting in his chair watching her from the side of the pool with an inscrutable expression on his face. Her heart gave a little stutter in her chest but it had nothing to do with the physical exertion she had just performed. ‘How long have you been there?’ she asked.

‘Long enough.’

She focused her gaze on the tiles near her hands rather than meet his gaze. ‘I suppose you’re thinking what a totally rubbish swimmer I am.’

‘On the contrary, you look quite at home in the water. But that T-shirt must be annoying. It’s creating quite a drag when you swim.’

Lily met his gaze with a little hitch of her chin. ‘I don’t like swimming in public.’

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