Chapter Ten #2
And he was standing now, the difference in their heights immediately putting her at a disadvantage.
‘It looks like it was a pretty good deflection. You going to blame that on the temperature?’ he wondered, looking directly at her breasts under the yellow top.
She didn’t need to look to know her treacherous body was betraying her, but at least not all of her giveaways were as prominent as her tight nipples.
‘Has it occurred to you, Amy, that you’re not exactly the best person to be handing out family advice?’
She flinched as his hit landed, her eyes widening in protest at the suggestion. ‘I am not handing out advice. I was trying to figure out why you are such a bastard.’
‘Oh, I’m a self-made man,’ he drawled through bared teeth. ‘Of course, I have had a little bit of help along the way.’
Her lips clamped tight. He never lost an opportunity to turn the knife, did he? But part of her didn’t blame him.
She shrugged, her eyes straying once more to the engraved name on the bench before she stepped out of the shaded area and into the warm evening sun.
‘You’d probably be happier if you let go of the past.’ She tossed the words over her shoulder and walked ahead of him, making her way down the rows of terraces, all the time aware of his footsteps behind her, though he made no attempt to join her.
He had spoilt her pleasure in the beauty of her surroundings.
She had reached the flat ground that led onto the copse of olives when he caught up with her.
‘That path leads to the beach, or do you want to go back?’
Amy was torn. She could have said something stinging, along the lines of her voluntarily spending more time in his company was about as likely as…well, something that was very unlikely.
On the other hand, she had really wanted to see the sea up close ever since her first glimpse of it. Now she could smell it and the draw was impossible to resist.
She wasn’t aware she had sighed until she glanced up and saw the sardonic amusement painted on his dark fallen-angel features as he watched her struggle.
It was very hard to shake the conviction that he could read her like a book. It wasn’t a two-way situation; he remained frustratingly enigmatic.
Trawling through her recollections, Amy realised he always had been, really. He had given out very little information in the past, and she hadn’t pushed him for anything back then because the mysteriousness of him had fed her romantic fantasies.
‘I’ll be masterful and take charge, shall I? Beach.’ He gestured to the path off to the left.
After a short pause she followed, walking behind him between the straight lines of the trees. It was cool and quiet except for her frantic heartbeat as she surveyed the movements of the tall figure up ahead.
She had been determined to maintain a cool silence but, as they walked on, the idea felt childish. Also, the need to fill the silence grew impossible to resist.
‘Do you produce your own olive oil?’
‘We do, but this area is no longer commercial. We have productive groves to the south on the mountain slopes. This part is actually a little neglected, hence why the wild perennial flowers underfoot have taken hold.’
‘They are pretty.’
‘It’s tough to control them without using herbicides, which bring their own issues; it’s ultimately about sustainability and, of course, the health of the land.’
A frown appeared between her brows as she flung her plait back, waving her hand to deter the insects buzzing around her face. ‘I didn’t realise that you took such a personal interest in the estate. I thought you were just about—’
He paused and turned back, looking at her with his usual mocking grin. ‘Making money?’ His smile faded. ‘Did you use some insect repellant?’
‘I didn’t think I’d need it.’
‘Well, you will.’
‘I think they like me,’ she admitted, swatting her arm.
‘Come on.’
The pace he set for the next few yards felt more like a jog for Amy but when they emerged onto the beach all thought of complaining faded.
The wide curved stretch of white, sugary sand was empty, and the sun reflecting off the turquoise-streaked sea was dazzling.
He watched as her wide smile emerged, her pleasure and excitement unfeigned.
‘This is simply incredible.’
‘Take off your shoes; the sand gets everywhere.’
She saw that Leo had already kicked off his shoes.
He stood there in his cut-offs and a tee-shirt that exposed his impressive biceps, looking very much at home and a million miles away from the images of him which were distributed for PR purposes.
And even further from the man usually seen on red carpets with his arm around beautiful blondes.
The sea looked so tempting that she sighed as she walked across the hot sand to the water’s edge. ‘I should have brought my swimsuit,’ she mourned.
‘You don’t need a swimsuit; there’s nobody here.’
She could not allow the provocation to pass or, for that matter, for the pleasure of the moment to be ruined.
‘You’re here.’
‘I can fade into the background.’ He touched the tee-shirt stretched over his broad chest. ‘See, camouflage.’
She threw back her head and laughed. The idea of Leo fading into any background, anywhere, in any circumstances was one of the funniest things she had ever heard.
He watched as she wiped tears from her cheeks, her laughter morphing before his eyes into broken sobs that lifted her chest.
‘Amy…?’
Her eyes went from his outstretched hand to his face, which was creased with a wary, quizzical expression that indicated she must look like lunatic.
She pressed a hand to her mouth in an attempt to physically suppress any further outbursts and took some gulping breaths, mortified by the unrestrained spillage of suppressed emotions.
‘It could be worse; I could be crying.’
He felt a surge of empathy shake free inside him and sidestepped it, not ready to accept his own feelings—the feelings she shook loose in him.
‘Are you waiting for me to do empathy?’
She swallowed a bubble of laughter. ‘Don’t, or you’ll set me off again. It’s the migraine; it can leave me feeling a bit…’
Insane.
In lust.
In deep, deep trouble.
‘Let’s get you back to the house.’
‘Castle,’ she was unable to stop herself correcting. ‘And I can get myself back.’
‘Give me strength.’ He would certainly need it, he decided as he watched her tramp with a gentle sway of her hips up the sand, the full skirt of her yellow dress whipping around her legs in the sea breeze.
He had brought her here thinking of revenge, never dreaming that what he was really doing was locking himself in a room with a live, primed sexual grenade.
Another school of thought, jeered the voice in his head, is that you knew exactly what you were doing, Leo.
She’d hurt him once; only a fool would invite her to take a second shot. And he wasn’t a fool.
‘I wasn’t offering to carry you, cara.’ And he wasn’t offering her another shot at his heart either. ‘Once in one day is enough; you are more solid than you look.’
Determined not to give him the satisfaction of responding, she twisted her lips and stalked off.
There was no cosy conversation during the return walk; there wasn’t even any confrontational conversation. The couple of glances she risked throwing in Leo’s direction suggested that his thoughts were elsewhere.
‘Will you be able to find your way back to your suite?’ he asked when they reached the big oak door.
‘Of course,’ she replied with a calm confidence she was far from feeling. ‘Thank you for the guided tour.’
‘We hardly scraped the surface, but I’ll arrange for someone to give you the full tour soon.’
Someone, not him. She got the message and obviously she was glad.
‘We thought you’d prefer to have your dinner in your room.’
She assumed the we was him, but she said nothing. She didn’t even point out that someone could have enquired about her preference, which required great restraint on her part.
He made to move away and stopped. ‘Oh, the garden lighting on the beach paths is temporarily out of service for some repairs. So if you do decide during the week to take any night air, stick to the gardens around the castle. The kitchen garden is that way and the tennis courts and swimming pools are just a little further on.’
She tipped her head in acknowledgement and walked in through the double doors without looking back.
She was waiting when her dinner was served.
The maid looked startled to be greeted by Amy, who took the tray and joined her in the hallway. ‘I think I’d prefer to eat with company in the kitchen.’
Her appearance was greeted with surprise and more sympathy than Amy had anticipated, as she assured them that she wasn’t here to work.
‘I was going a bit mad just talking to myself.’
There were fewer staff than the previous day, which made sense. Apparently, they were only serving two—plus the staff—who, from what she saw, ate very well.
As she sat on a stool eating the really delicious monkfish kebabs with a crunchy side salad and subtle tikka sauce, watching the interplay between the staff, several of them came across to talk for a moment or two.
Conversation was about food, with a bit of juicy gossip thrown in for good measure, and Amy found herself relaxing for the first time since she’d arrived.
Occasionally, she glanced towards the door, wondering what Leo’s reaction would be if he discovered she had ignored his edict to stay in her room.
Well, maybe not an edict, but he had been extremely high-handed.
If he had appeared, she would have told him so, not that she was looking for a fight—or him.
She would have liked to linger in the kitchen, but it felt wrong to be there and not work and she was feeling extremely tired again, which was often the way if she allowed a migraine to develop.
When she went to carry her tray over to the dishwashers it was firmly taken off her.
Amy didn’t protest; she was actually quite touched by the kindness.