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Her eyes filled with tears. He didn’t know what was worse, seeing her angry, or seeing her miserable.
Proud to the last, she whipped her face away from his.
‘You’ve nothing to worry about,’ he said, somehow overcome by a sense of how alone she was. It had to be because he was back in the old house, he reasoned as he continued to reassure her. ‘I’ll stay on until I’ve made a full inventory of the remedial work that needs to be done here.’
‘What?’ She turned a shocked face on his.
‘You must have expected me to stay the night?’
‘Actually, no.’ Her stare was levelled on his. ‘I’m surprised you’re prepared to risk the danger.’
He tried so hard not to smile. ‘I think I’m equal to the dangers here, Señorita Clifton.’
She stared at him defiantly as she braced her angry fists against his chest.
Lifting his hands, he let her go.
It took her a moment, but she was right back in the game within a couple of heartbeats. ‘Of course you must stay the night,’ she told him in a pleasant tone. ‘This is as much your house as mine.’
He inclined his head, wondering how long her warmth would remain imprinted on his hands. The memory of that small, soft body straining against his would stay with him for a long time.
He took the torture like a man. ‘There are six or seven bedrooms, as I recall,’ he observed in a matter-of-fact tone. ‘Which means I can sleep at one end of the house, while you sleep at the other.’
‘You won’t trouble me,’ she assured him.
He disagreed. He imagined that even with their doors locked and bolted, and at opposite ends of the house, they would trouble each other all through the night.
‘I’ll be right back with some clean linen for you,’ she offered, hurrying away.
* * *
She could feel the heat of Xavier’s stare on her back, and the moment she was out of sight she leaned back against the wall to grab some down time from the tension. What was happening to her? He was like a magnet drawing her into danger, and she had no more sense than to go with it. Worse, she didn’t want to fend him off. His touch was light and unthreatening—she could still feel it on her arm. Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the sensation for a moment, but that only made her want more.
Her feelings were all over the place. She should hate him for what he represented, and for the danger he posed to the island with his schemes, but while hungry fire was surging through her veins that wasn’t easy. And now he was going to stay the night. It was too intimate, too disturbing in every way. She would have preferred to keep him at arm’s length—preferably with an arm as long as a continent.
Opening the door, she rifled through the linen closet, choosing the best of a bad lot in a pile of threadbare sheets. But at least they were clean and smelled of sunshine, she reassured herself, bringing the bedding to her face as she walked down the corridor. She could hear Don Xavier banging about in one of the rooms. She stopped outside the door, drew a deep breath, and then knocked politely.
‘Come...’
His imperious tone made her blood boil. She was being hospitable, while he was treating her like a...like a housekeeper, Rosie thought, fighting back a laugh. That was exactly what she was—or what she had been. The humour in the situation soon restored her high spirits. Entering the room, she took in everything at a glance: his expensive leather bag and the crisp clean clothes arranged neatly on the bed...
And him.
So much him her heart was thundering like a jackhammer. Even now she couldn’t get used to the sight of so much man.
‘Señorita Clifton?’
Adopting a polite, yet remote expression, she laid the folded sheets on the bed.
‘My apologies, señorita, I will move these things away, and then you can make up the bed for me.’
Judging by his raised brow, her jaw must have dropped to the floor.
‘Do you have a problem with that?’ he asked with surprise.
Yes. She did. She was going to start as she meant to go on. He had two hands just as she did. Even a little thing like making up his bed could give Don Xavier the wrong idea. As far as this inheritance went, they were equals. If she gave him the impression that nothing had changed and gave in to his every whim, how was she supposed to stand up against his plans for the island?
‘You’d make the bed for a friend, or for a welcome visitor, wouldn’t you?’ he probed, identifying the problem right away.
