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‘Oh, very funny.’ But she was laughing as they jumped into the pool. After four lengths, she was happy to take to the side and watch as he continued to slice through the water. She had learned to swim as an adult. Four years ago, she wouldn’t have been able to jump into the deep end of this pool, never mind swim four lengths. He, on the other hand, had probably been swimming since he was a toddler, taught by a member of staff in one of the many pools he had probably enjoyed in various locations over the years.
The differences between them were so glaringly obvious, reminding her of the shelf life of what they had and of the shadowy undercurrents lurking just beneath the surface of their sexually charged relationship.
‘Tired?’
‘Swimming isn’t one of my strong points,’ she confessed. ‘In fact...’ what would this one simple admission hurt? ‘...I only learned to swim a few years ago.’
‘You’re kidding.’
‘No, I’m not,’ she said with a shrug.
‘That must have been awkward on family holidays. I’m surprised your parents didn’t sort that out.’ He kissed her again, a little more hungrily this time, and pulled back with a grin of pure satisfaction. ‘Besides, don’t schools in England have arranged swimming lessons for kids? Something to do with the curriculum?’
‘Some of them do,’ Chase said vaguely. ‘But, you know, I kind of had a phobia of water.’
‘A little private tuition would have sorted that out, wouldn’t it?’ He swung himself neatly out of the pool and held out his hand to help her up. ‘Better than Mummy and Daddy panicking every time their precious little darling got within a foot of the hotel pool. Hmm...nice...’
He enjoyed her wet body, running his hands along it, holding her close to him so that their bodies could rub together. ‘No matter. Competitive swimming isn’t on the agenda while we’re here. I couldn’t care less if you can only swim four lengths or four hundred.’
Chase opened her mouth, toyed with the idea of revealing a bit more about herself but then kept silent. This fantastic side to Alessandro was only in evidence for a reason. Further proof of her lying would kill that reason dead because, even for the sake of finishing unfinished business, lust still had its outer limits. And without lust how much greater would be his anger in the cold light of day? She didn’t want his anger and she certainly couldn’t afford for that anger to be directed at punishing her through her work.
A sudden tidal wave of sheer misery immobilised her and it took almost more effort than she could muster to get herself back on track.
‘Tell me what there is around here,’ she eventually said, falling easily into step with him as he tossed her a towel and they began walking towards the house. ‘All those gorgeous little villages... What do the locals do for a living? Do you know any of them? Personally, I mean?’
* * *
Exactly four days later, Chase understood what it must feel like to be in love with someone, living on cloud nine, where everything smelled differently and tasted differently and every single experience was a unique Kodak moment to be committed to memory and brought out at a later date.
She had seen him at his most relaxed. She felt that she could almost be forgiven for thinking that he really liked her and she guessed that, in a way, he did. He appreciated her quick mind; he appreciated her responsive body; he laughed when she tried to tell corny jokes.
Just so long as they both pretended that the past had never happened, everything was good between them. For her, it was so much deeper than anything he could possibly feel, but she refused to think like that. What was the point? She had made her bed and she would lie on it. She had accepted his proposal and only now and again did she think that, whilst she was falling deeper and harder for him, he was gradually working her out of his system.
Wrapped up in his arms at night, lying in a bed that was roughly the size of her spare bedroom, she had let her mind wander, analysed and re-analysed everything he’d said and every gesture he’d made. The one sure thing that sprang to mind was that, the more relaxed he was with her, the more he was putting her behind him.
It was an argument that made sense. When he had seen her again for the first time after eight years, his rage had been raw, out in the open, targeted and deadly. But that had changed. He would never, ever forgive her for what she had done to him, she knew that, but he was in the process of getting over it. Rage was becoming indifference and indifference was allowing him to stop treating her as public enemy number one.
She hated herself for trying to find alternative scenarios but they all led to the same dead end. Very soon, he would completely lose interest in why she had done what she had done eight years ago. He would simply stop giving a damn. He would no longer consider revenge because he would not care less. He would just use her and walk away without a backward glance.
