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But she was conscious of a deep reluctance to do so. Partly, she knew, for the reason she’d given Philip—but that was not the overwhelming reason. Being Sabine gave her...protection. Protection from the onslaught on her senses that Bastiaan Karavalas was making on her.

‘My private island?’ Bastiaan echoed her. ‘What can I tell you? Acreage? Location? Value?’

There was a quizzical expression in his voice, and he spoke lightly, yet Sarah could see a twist at the corner of his mouth. She found herself wondering at it, but her focus had to be on continuing the conversation. She didn’t really care that much about Bastiaan Karavalas’s island, but it had been the first thing she’d been able to think of asking about in order to interrupt Philip.

‘What do you do on it?’

The quizzical expression came again, but this time she had the feeling it was genuine—as if her question had been unexpected. She watched him lift his champagne flute to his mouth.

‘Do?’ he said. ‘Very little.’ He gave a sudden smile, taking a mouthful of champagne. ‘I take a dinghy out sometimes...swim, chill...not much else. Oh, I read sometimes too—or just watch the sun set with a glass of beer at my side. Nothing exciting. You, mademoiselle, would find it very dull.’

Even as he spoke Bastiaan found himself wondering. Why hadn’t she followed up on his deliberate mentions of its size and value? Gone on to draw him out about the other properties he owned? Like his villa in the Caribbean, his condo in Manhattan, his apartment in London, his mansion in Athens... It was inconsistent of her. She’d been keen to get him to talk about owning the island in the first place, getting him to reveal to her just how wealthy he actually was.

‘Au contraire,’ she riposted, and Bastiaan became aware of the greenness of her eyes. ‘It sounds very relaxing.’

She held his gaze a moment, and into his head sprang the image of just how he might ‘relax’ with such a woman on his private island... He felt a kick go through him—one that told him her impact on him was as powerful as ever.

Should I respond to it? Respond to the allure she has for me? Use it for my own purpose?

The questions came—but not the answers... And the very fact that the questions were forming in his mind indicated the temptation they presented. Showed him the answers he wanted to give...

His thoughts were interrupted by Paulette, emerging with the lunch tray. Philip got to his feet to take it from her and was rewarded by a beaming smile—clearly his young cousin had become a favourite of the housekeeper. As he and Philip started to unload it, he noticed Sabine was helping as well, passing plates of charcuterie and fromage, salads and crusty baguette slices.

‘Would you like wine, or are you happy to stick to champagne?’ Bastiaan enquired of his guest courteously.

Sarah smiled. ‘What girl wouldn’t be happy to stick to champagne?’ she replied humorously.

She was working hard to keep her tone light, inconsequential. After lunch she must find an opportunity to get Bastiaan on his own, to broach to him her recommendation that it might be best to remove his young cousin to another place that offered less distraction. But even as she determined to do it she found herself dreading it. Dreading being on her own with Bastiaan Karavalas for any time at all.

Roughly, she shook such thoughts from herself. Sought to find something innocuous to say... ‘Though if I drink too much at lunchtime I may well fall fast asleep in the afternoon.’

Bastiaan laughed, and yet again Sarah felt her pulse quicken. ‘You would be quite welcome,’ he said, and indicated the sun loungers that were set out on the lawn beneath the shade of a parasol.

‘Don’t tempt me,’ she riposted, reaching for a piece of bread.

But you do tempt me, Mademoiselle Sabine—you tempt me greatly...

Again, the words took shape in his head before he could unsay them. Unthink them...

As he started to help himself to lunch Bastiaan could feel thoughts swirling. Would it really be so bad to let his interest in Sabine take the direction in which he could feel it drawing him? Had since his first moment of setting eyes on her.

She tempts me—and without a doubt she feels desire for me, answering my desire for her...

He could hear the arguments in his head already—as tempting as this beautiful woman was.

It would achieve the end I seek...the purpose of my journey—it would take her away from Philip, set him free from his infa

tuation. And give me what I want...

There was so much in its favour. Why should he reject such a solution to the problem?

Through half-veiled eyes he watched as Philip fussed over her, offering her dishes from the table.

‘Chicken, brie and grapes would be lovely,’ she said.

Her smile on his cousin was warm, and Bastiaan could see Philip drinking it in. Out of nowhere, a needle pricked Bastiaan beneath the skin.

I want her to smile like that at me.

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