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Breathing slowly through his teeth, he willed away his completely inappropriate reaction to her. ‘Get your shoes on—we’re going back.’
Dark-brown eyes narrowing, she folded her arms across her delicious chest. ‘I’ve moved away from the ledge but I’m not prepared to let you order me around any further. If you want to go back, then go ahead. I’m staying here.’
‘You haven’t eaten for hours. My chefs are preparing a late lunch for us. You can come back here later if you must.’
Something sharp pierced into Emily’s chest.
‘Give me a sec,’ she said, looking away from him and slipping her toes into her silver sparkly flip-flops.
Had he really tracked her down just to make sure she had something to eat?
The last person to care that she ate three square meals a day had been her mother. During their daily phone calls she would always ask what Emily had eaten that day, what she was planning for her dinner...
Shaking her head to clear it of despondency, she shrugged her rucksack over her shoulder and followed Pascha back through the trail.
‘So why are you still here?’ she asked after a few minutes of silence. Despite his much longer strides, he never went too far ahead. She took a swig of water. The heat within the dense canopy of trees was fast becoming insufferable.
He ducked under an overhanging branch. ‘There’s a problem with the engine of the yacht. We need to wait for a part to be delivered from the mainland.’
‘How long will that take?’
‘It should be here by the end of the day.’
‘Excellent. So you’ll be leaving for Paris before the evening?’
‘Sorry to disappoint you, but the part needs to be installed and then checked for safety before I allow anyone to go anywhere in it. I should be able to get away in the morning, depending on what the weather’s like. There’s a tropical storm heading for the Caribbean. I won’t leave until it’s passed.’
Emily didn’t like the sound of that. ‘Are we in its path?’
‘No. We’re likely only to get some high winds and rain at some point this evening, but it’s an uncertain situation...’
Before he could finish his sentence, Emily lost her footing, practically skiing down a particularly steep incline.
Her cheeks were crimson; the only saving grace was that she hadn’t fallen flat on her face.
‘Are you okay?’ Pascha asked, surefootedly hurrying to her side.
‘Yes, yes. No harm done.’ Feeling like the biggest fool in the world, she accepted his help, allowing his large, warm fingers to wrap around her own and pull her back to her feet.
‘Thank you,’ she muttered, knowing her cheeks had turned an even deeper shade of red that had nothing to do with embarrassment.
She snatched her hand away from his, as if the action could eradicate the effects of his touch. It felt as if he’d magically heated her skin, his clasp sending tiny darts of energy zinging through her veins, making her heart pump harder.
Pascha was still staring at her intently.
‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ he asked after too long a pause.
‘Honestly, I’m fine.’ To prove it, she started walking again. It was with relief that she spotted the roof of the main cabin of the lodge poking through the foliage.
‘Are you sure you haven’t hurt yourself?’
‘I said I’m fine.’
Before he had a chance to quiz her further, the theme to a cartoon she’d adored in childhood rang out. To her utter amazement, she realised it was his phone ringing.
Pascha had the theme to Top Cat as his ringtone?
He pressed it to his ear. ‘Da?’ His eyes immediately switched to her face. ‘Yes, she is right with me. One moment.’ He handed the phone to her, mouthing, ‘Your brother,’ as he did so.
Her blood turned to ice.
‘James?’ The coldness quickly subsided when she learned the reason for her brother’s call. He couldn’t work the washing machine. Their mother had always done it for him, even after he’d left the family home. Since she’d died he’d used a laundry service—after failing to cajole Emily into doing it for him.
By the time she ended the call, irritation suffused her. She’d explicitly told him only to call in a genuine emergency—one call too many and for all she knew Pascha might decide not to bother passing on any messages. It was pure luck that she’d been with him at that moment.
Still, she consoled herself, at least she wouldn’t have to badger Valeria for use of the lodge phone for another day. James had assured her their father’s condition was the same, so that was one less thing to worry about.
