Chapter Two
DIDO WALKED TOWARDS the resort’s main building, soaking in the peace and beauty of her surroundings. She’d slept but had been troubled by dreams. Dreams she couldn’t remember but which left her with a gnawing ache inside that felt like regret. Or grief.
A loss she refused to name.
Silently she cursed her overactive imagination that last night had her seeing a phantom from her past. That brief illusion had shattered her equanimity, leaving her unsettled long into the night.
She stiffened her spine. She had no time for fanciful imaginings or regrets. There was nothing in her past—nothing—that she longed for, except the obvious, the wish that her parents were still alive.
Quickly she turned her thoughts to the present.
Success today was vital. Chiara was definitely on-board, full of approval for Dido’s suggestions.
But there was her fiancé to accommodate. With luck he’d be happy if Chiara was, perhaps even reining in some of her more difficult demands. Despite her hours of rest and detailed preparation, Dido didn’t feel up to playing referee between a couple, each fighting for different things.
But if she had to she would.
This job was make-or-break. The chance to take on more responsibility and reap the financial rewards. It would mean security, a cushion against tough times. The last few years had been difficult emotionally and financially. She had no intention of sliding back into that mess.
Dido paused outside the main building. She flicked a piece of lint off her loose, linen blend trousers and checked that her olive-green silk shirt was neatly tucked in.
She’d splashed out on clothes that made her look successful and at home in a luxury resort.
The expenditure would be worth it when she won her promotion.
She touched the finely decorated gold chain at her wrist, telling herself it was for luck, not because she was nervous. The bracelet had been her mother’s.
Squaring her shoulders, she walked inside.
Despite the huge spaces it seemed shadowy after the crystalline brightness of sky, sand and sea.
She returned the greeting of a staff member and noticed with appreciation the displays of fresh orchids and hibiscus.
The venue really was ideal, the last word in luxury but warm and relaxed.
Dido crossed the vast atrium, heading for the restaurant where she’d meet her clients for a working breakfast. Turning sharp left she stepped through the doorway just as a figure loomed out of nowhere, coming in the opposite direction.
She had only a fraction of a second, stopping midstride and trying to pivot away, but he was striding fast, looking at his phone, and didn’t see her.
They collided, one long leg connected with hers, tripping her.
Dido swayed, instinctively clutching her electronic tablet tight under her arm as she scrambled for balance.
Hands grabbed her elbows, steadying her.
She had an impression of heat and height. Of masculine strength in that firm grasp.
Then she registered it, a combination of spices, citrusy bergamot and warm flesh.
A scent from the past.
Once she’d adored it. Now it hit her like a fist to her abdomen. Her stomach cramped, her skin drawing tight over her bones as the fine hairs at her nape rose.
She gasped. Or was it a dry retch?
Her reaction only lasted a second because, nauseous though she felt, Dido never allowed herself to be vulnerable, not any more. She straightened, lifting her gaze past a wide chest in a pale summer shirt, up to a shadowy face topped by short, dark hair.
The light streaming through the huge windows was behind him yet she had no trouble recognising him.
If she hadn’t identified the scent of his skin or the feel of those hands on her body, the jut of that arrogantly hewn jaw would have given him away. Not to mention her body’s reaction.
She concentrated on ripping herself free of his hold, only to stand there, staring up at him because her legs wouldn’t work.
‘You!’ That deep voice cracked like a whip. ‘It is you.’
‘You took the words out of my mouth.’ Her scratchy voice wobbled as she forced herself to meet his eyes. Dark brown and filled with animosity. Flames licked her skin at the intensity of his flaying stare. ‘What are you doing here?’
Apart from staff, no one else was expected on the island except Chiara’s fiancé.
Dido’s breath hissed in, her lungs seizing.
No, no, no. It’s not possible. It can’t be.
Fate couldn’t be so cruel.
That wouldn’t just be a nightmare, it would be complete catastrophe.
The implications were…utterly impossible! Her mind shut down the idea. There had to be another explanation.
Maybe he owned the place. That would make sense. It was the sort of high-end business that would appeal to him. Perhaps he’d come to check on his investment.
Hadn’t she seen him last night through the trees? It must’ve been him. Chiara had paid for privacy but he was the sort to walk roughshod over others. If he owned the place, what would that mean for her role in the wedding?
‘That’s my question. What are you doing here?’ He didn’t raise his voice but it held all the arrogance of a man used to having the world kowtow to him. ‘Are you following me?’
Finally she managed to back up a step, pressing a hand to her abdomen as if to quell the horrible churning inside.
‘Following you?’ Her discordant laugh was too loud. ‘You really do have the most enormous ego. I have no interest in being anywhere near you.’
He folded his arms, the action drawing attention not only to the breadth of his chest and the strength of those biceps, but somehow to the solid length of his wide-planted legs as well. He looked disgustingly fit and strong. Alarmingly masculine.
Attractive too, if you liked classically handsome features burnished by a sneer.
Dido had already had enough of this man’s supercilious arrogance to last several lifetimes. Her skin crawled as memories she’d packed up and locked away spilled free, a deluge of pain and hatred.
‘Liar.’ His lip curled. ‘There was a time when I couldn’t get rid of you. You kept bombarding my staff, badgering them to put through your calls.’
Dido rescued the tablet that was in danger of slipping from under her arm and held it against her chest, arms crossed around it as if hugging a protective shield.
‘Until you sicced your lawyers onto me with their threats.’ She watched his eyebrows rise as if surprised she’d allude to that. But she wasn’t ashamed. She’d done nothing wrong. He’d been the one to behave appallingly.
If she didn’t feel sickened at the memories she’d tell him he was a bully and a coward, afraid to have a single conversation with the person he’d treated so shoddily.
But, despite her reference to the lawyers, the last thing she wanted was to rehash the past. It was too late. Nothing could be gained from it and, she realised with piercing terror, there was so much to lose.
Another step back, her chin rising lest he sense her feelings. Mutual antipathy she could handle, but there were complicating factors she needed to consider.
‘So, if you didn’t follow me to Tahiti, why are you here?’ He looked at the tablet she clutched. ‘You’re not a reporter now, are you?’
It was a fair question given his prominent position.
How pathetically cruel that she hadn’t realised who he was the first time they’d met. If she’d had an inkling of his true situation, much less his character, she’d have run a mile, despite what she’d once thought about his sexy body and his charm.
Was it possible she’d been drunk the whole time she’d known him? It would make a wonderful excuse for her terrible mistake in finding him attractive, much less trusting him.
But she didn’t have that excuse. She’d never been much of a drinker. She’d simply been bowled off her feet. There was no excuse except naiveté.
‘I asked if you’re a journalist,’ he snapped, jerking her from her dazed thoughts.
You’re in shock. That’s why you’re having trouble concentrating.
Walking slap, bang into the biggest mistake of your life is bound to do that to you.
‘I’m not deaf.’ Dido drew in a deep breath then exhaled slowly, fighting panic. ‘No, I’m not a reporter.’
He didn’t step into her personal space but somehow that space shrank as if he loomed closer, consuming all her oxygen. ‘Then why are you here?’
‘For work. How about you? Why are you here?’
His eyebrows furrowed down in a ferocious scowl. ‘None of your business.’
‘Ha! You really are arrogant. You think you’ve got the right to question me but you don’t even have the common courtesy to answer the same simple question.’
He shook his head, his mouth grim. ‘After what happened, you can’t surely expect courtesy or politeness from me, Ms Jones.’
His gaze flicked to her left hand then back to her face as if looking for a ring. His excoriating stare stung.
Those dark eyes pinioned her to the spot like a butterfly skewered for inspection. She could almost feel the piercing jab through her sternum.
Remarkably, despite the fury roiling in her bloodstream, her feet were cemented to the floor. She couldn’t even summon the power to walk away.
Dido would do anything to hide how vulnerable she felt. Her legs might be too shaky to carry her away but she was pleased to find her voice steady, laced with silky derision.
‘Of course you’re right. For a moment there I judged you against the rules of normal politeness.’ Her smile was sharp. She wished it could draw blood, but his hide was far too thick. ‘I forgot you think you operate in a different sphere to everyone else. You’re the most mannerless boor I ever met.’
If she thought his stare inimical before it was nothing to the threat of retribution pulsing from him now. His upper body seemed to swell while his jaw clenched and that proud nose pinched as if he didn’t want to inhale the same air as her.
Dido drew herself up as tall as possible, exulting in the fact she’d got under his skin. Even though she knew point scoring would achieve nothing. What she needed was to put as much distance between them as possible.