Rebel's Bargain

He stepped forward and the scent of heady spice and cedar infiltrated her brain. How she’d miss that when they went their separate ways.

‘You’d really do that? It’s tedious stuff.’

She spread her hands. ‘I’ve finished early. My time is my own.’

Yet she was offering to spend it with Orsino. Not indulging in hot, frantic sex, but to read him a spreadsheet. What had got into her? What had happened to keeping her distance?

‘It can’t be worse than wearing a corset for hours, waiting for my leading man to get his lines right.’

‘That bad, eh?’ A glimmer of amusement lit Orsino’s dark eyes and it struck her how attractive his smile was. Not just sexy but … appealing.

‘You have no idea.’ She took a deep breath and stretched, revelling in the freedom of minimal underwear after the restrictions of the outfit she’d worn today.

Orsino’s gaze dropped to snag on her breasts and instantly her nipples beaded, pushing against the thin fabric of her T-shirt. Excitement ignited deep inside and spread, making her quiver.

Poppy dropped her arms and turned to the fireplace. The intensity of that reaction was too unsettling.

‘You want me to read this document?’

‘That would be helpful, thanks.’ Unlike hers Orsino’s voice was cool and even. Had she imagined that hungry stare?

‘Sure.’ Eager for distraction, she moved away and dropped cross-legged before the padded ottoman where his computer sat. He took the big wing chair just behind her. If she leaned back his legs would support her.

Poppy squashed a stray thought about how cosy this was, the sound of the rain battering the windows and a fire throwing warmth across the Oriental rug. Just her and Orsino …

With a sharp intake of breath she blinked and reached for the computer. Daydreaming about relaxed evenings by the fire with her husband wasn’t healthy. Once she’d mistaken his passion for love. She needed to keep her wits about her and remember the rules.

Ignore the past, since it hurts too much.

Ignore the future, since we have none.

Live in the now.

Keep it simple.

Her heart lurched as for a moment forbidden memories invaded—hurtful memories. Then she slammed a lid on them. Better to pretend those were two different people than tear herself apart trying to explain how she could want Orsino and he her after what had gone before.

‘What document did you want me to read?’

Orsino leaned forward and took the laptop from her hands, clicking through files.

Trying not to react to his beckoning heat, she stared at the screen. All the documents were enlarged for easy reading.

‘You can’t read that?’ Poppy looked at the large font and her heart sank. She’d thought his vision was improving. He seemed so capable now, able to move about with ease. Though it struck her that she rarely saw him anywhere but in bed or the bathroom.

A cool little ripple cascaded down her spine.

‘I can read those.’ After a little fumbling he opened a document and passed the laptop to her. ‘But following the lines and footnotes on this spreadsheet is beyond me.’ He paused and she felt his breath warm on the back of her neck where she’d piled her hair up. ‘My sight is still distorted and it makes this stuff too difficult.’

‘I’m not surprised.’ Vast rows and columns of figures filled the page. ‘You really need to do this now?’ Surely it was better for him to rest and recuperate.

‘If you’ve changed your mind—’

‘No. Of course not. Which worksheet do you want?’

‘Might as well start at the first. Can you start at the top and work your way down?’

It didn’t take long to realise the report had nothing to do with blue-chip investments or property. Nor was it about climbing or rally car racing or any of the extreme sports for which Orsino was feted.

‘Can you go back a line?’ She heard the scratching of pen on paper. He could see enough to write then. The tightness in her chest unravelled a little.

She recited dates and figures. ‘What is this, Orsino?’

There was silence for a few moments apart from the scratch of his pen and the soft thunk of embers in the fire.

‘Expenses. Medical treatment. Food. Maintenance.’

‘I gathered that.’ She peered at the figures again. ‘But for whom?’

‘For an establishment I deal with. Now, if you’d—’

‘What sort of establishment?’

Orsino’s reluctance to talk intrigued her. What was he hiding? And even more intriguing, what had happened to the man who barely stood still long enough even for a wedding photo? Who now found the patience to sit churning through reams of figures?