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Her appearance taken care of, she set about unpacking then padded out barefoot onto the veranda. Her spirits soared further when she found her own small private swimming pool. She’d caught a glimpse of the long pool that snaked around the main house, but to find she had her own one too...and one that was entirely private.
Now that she really took stock of everything, she could see she really did have complete privacy. No one could see into her space. She decided that she would definitely use the bath in the morning.
She checked herself, forcing a curb on her excitement. This was not a holiday. Not by a long mark. She must not forget that.
It wasn’t until she leaned over the pebbled wall separating her balcony from the steps down to the beach that she caught a glimpse of another hut overhanging to the left of hers. Craning her neck for a better look, she jerked when she saw Pascha leaning over his own wall talking into his mobile phone, the top part of his naked torso visible...
He must have sensed her gaze for he suddenly looked down. For the briefest of moments their eyes locked before she tore her eyes away and stepped back, out of sight.
She inhaled deeply and placed a hand to her chest. Her heart raced, her skin tingled and, much as she tried to blink the image away, all she could see was the hard chest with a smattering of dark hair over taut muscles.
Utterly unnerved by her reaction to semi-naked Pascha, Emily resolved to stay in her hut for the rest of the evening, using its phone to call down to the kitchen and request her dinner be brought up to her.
It felt safer to keep out of his way. Much safer.
In the meantime, she needed to call home. But picking up the receiver proved a fruitless task. The phone in her hut connected to the main house but nowhere else. As soon as she dialled any other number, a beep rang in her ear. She was disappointed, but she wasn’t surprised. The whole point in Pascha keeping her there was to stop her communicating with anyone. All the same, she decided to try her mobile phone. She curled up on an outdoor sofa that was completely hidden from view and switched it on. Nothing. No signal bars, no Internet access. Nothing. No wonder Pascha hadn’t bothered trying to take it from her.
She muttered a curse just as a soft buzzer went off in her room.
‘Come in,’ she called, assuming it was her dinner being brought to her. Rising to her feet, she gave a sharp intake of breath when she found Pascha in her hut.
‘How have you settled in?’ he asked, stepping out to join her on the veranda. He’d changed into dark linen trousers and an open-necked light blue shirt. Were it not for the fact his attire had been ironed to within an inch of its life, and his hair styled to such an extent that not a single strand dared depart from the slight quiff, she would have said he looked casual. But then, casual was a state of mind. Emily doubted he ever switched off.
‘I’ve settled in fine,’ she replied, resisting the urge to push him back into the hut and shove him out through the French doors. It wouldn’t make any difference if she did; they’d only be separated by the windows. She held her phone out to him. ‘I need to call home.’
He didn’t even look at it. ‘There’s a block on all electronic communications without an access code.’
‘I gathered that. I need to call home. Is there another phone I can use?’
‘You only left this morning.’
‘A lot can happen in a day.’ At his narrowing eyes, she quickly added, ‘You can hover by my side while I make the call and satisfy yourself that I’m not revealing any state secrets. I just want to make sure my dad’s okay and that my brother’s got there.’
Silence hung between them while Pascha contemplated her request. After what felt like an age, he inclined his head. ‘You can use my phone.’
‘Seeing as my phone is useless here, I’ll need a number my dad and brother can reach me on too.’ She’d assumed he would take her phone and keep it on him, had assumed her family would be able to reach her even if she couldn’t contact them.
When it looked as if he would refuse, she folded her arms. ‘Look, you either let me give them an emergency contact number or I will make it my business to be the most difficult guest you’ve ever had here.’
‘You’re already the most difficult guest I’ve ever had here.’ Was it her imagination or was that a glimmer of humour in his eyes?
‘You haven’t seen anything yet.’
‘I can well believe it. You can call home and give my number as an emergency contact, but it can wait until after we’ve eaten.’
This time it was her eyes that narrowed.
