‘Ididn’t do anything. If you came to that conclusion that was on you.’
He had a point, damn him. And then he seemed to take pity on her, saying with a shrug, ‘I’m used to people thinking the worst. It doesn’t bother me.’
Poppy didn’t believe that for a second. No one was that immune to criticism. ‘You don’t exactly help the situation.’
Caius’s gaze narrowed on her. ‘I learnt a long time ago that the media like to stick to a certain narrative, and I’m not saying I didn’t give them the ammunition, but it grew bigger than me, and if I’d gone up against them, it would have created an even bigger storm.’
Poppy snorted a little. ‘So you’re saying it was all lies?’
‘Not all, no, but about twenty per cent of what they reported had some truth.’
Poppy lifted up the paper. ‘And this?’
Now Caius looked a little uncomfortable. ‘True.’
Poppy assimilated that. The fact that Caius’s financial crisis had actually been something not so superficial at all. A tech company he’d invested in had almost gone bust due to losing state funding, potentially causing mass unemployment in a small town in Southern Italy. Caius had stepped in, using his own finances to prop it up until the government had restored that funding.
‘Don’t look at me like that, Poppy.’
‘Like what?’
‘I’m not suddenly some white knight. I saved that business because I had a stake in it. It made sense.’
The fact that he’d single-handedly turned that situation around and saved hundreds of jobs in a challenged region struggling to invest in new technology as a long-term initiative might indeed make sense, but Poppy suspected the human aspect had played a bigger role than he would admit. And that was intriguing.
He peeled a small orange and asked, ‘So, are you going to give me a tour of the island?’
A little taken aback she asked, ‘You want to spend time with me?’
He shrugged. ‘I figure maybe it’s time for a little truce. After all, we’re married now and will become parents in about five months’ time. We’re on an island. What else is there to do?’
Was there a gleam in his eyes or was that her imagination? Why did Poppy suddenly feel as if the rules had been changed? And as if the earth had just tilted on its axis slightly? As though the man she’d thought she had summed up was suddenly not the sum of those parts at all, but something entirely unexpected? And why did that make her feel so nervous?
Because somethinghadjust changed. And it was dangerous because she knew well that, contrary to what she’d told herself about that night in Paris—that the sex hadn’t been about emotion—it had in fact been all about emotion. Because Caius had got to her that night, under her skin. She’d trusted him enough to sleep with him.
She’d obviously sensed something more to him.
He’d touched a place inside her where she protected herself against rejection and abandonment. He’d made her feel wanted and desired and seen. And that was terrifying. And why she’d called off the engagement discussions.
Yet here she was. Carrying his child. Married. For at least five years. She couldn’t let him see that she still wanted him. It was more important than ever to keep boundaries intact or she’d never get through this. In any case, she didn’t have to worry about him throwing her over his shoulder to take her to bed. He couldn’t have made it clearer last night that he had no interest in her.
Once they were through this mandatory honeymoon period she would be encouraging him to go back to New York or wherever he wanted to go. She could get on with ruling her people as she wanted to, ushering in a new era. She hated the little prick of regret that she’d be doing it on her own but this was the consequence of her choices.
He smiled. ‘You can trust me, I promise.’
Poppy sent him a look. Of one thing she was still certain: she couldn’t trust this man as far as she could throw him. But she wasn’t about to let him see how unnerved she was.
She forced a bright smile and said, ‘I’ll get changed and we’ll head out.’
Chapter Six
‘YOU CAN DRIVE, you know the place.’
Caius was indicating for Poppy to take the wheel of the runaround buggy. She was annoyed with herself for automatically assuming he would want to drive. Her father had always told her she was too independent and that men didn’t like it.
She got in behind the wheel. She’d dressed down in cut-off shorts that still fitted her if she left the top button open, and a loose linen shirt. Slip-on sneakers, because some of the terrain could be rocky.
She tried not to be too aware of Caius’s muscular thigh close to hers. He was casual too, wearing long shorts and a polo shirt in light blue that she didn’t have to look to know would enhance his eyes. Thankfully he was wearing shades, like her.
