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Mike took the cup, breathed the scent in, and then drank heavily. He had a way of holding his cup, ring finger through the handle, cup cradled in his palm. He nodded as he put the cup down. “The sample you sent tasted superb, undoubtedly one of the finest harvests of the year, but there’s something really special about tasting it where it’s grown, with the people who made it this way.”

He put his hand out to shake Frank’s all over again.

Sherri was beaming. “Dinner will be ready in about an hour. If you’d like to freshen up after your journey, I’ll show you to the guest lodge.”

Mike nodded, but turned to Leonie. “Leonie could show me.” His gaze raked over her. “I need to go over some facts and figures with her anyway.”

Bastard.

“Of course,” Sherri replied, and winked over at Leonie.

Had she sensed there was something between them? She looked from Sherri’s smiling face to Frank’s startled one. The atmosphere had shifted, yes, and their attention was fully on her. They must have guessed.

“This way.” She led him out of the back door, down the steps and along the path to the annexed lodge. It was a prefab building with a dozen rooms used for guests, and for the workers in the busy harvesting season. It was here in this simple place that she’d made her home for the past year, and here where Sherri had made Mike a room up, right next to hers.

“They

seem to be good people,” he commented, as their footsteps crunched on the gravel path.

“They are, and they worked hard for this. I think they’ll be fine when I leave.”

“It was an ambitious project, but you’ve helped them on their way. You put your stamp on the franchise. That was obvious from England.”

He must have been watching her reports, and he wasn’t even on the overseeing panel. His job was in marketing, unless that had changed and Tansy hadn’t told her.

“Overseeing the plantation has been good for me. I needed to strike out on my own, prove I could do what I was preaching to others about.”

She put her hand on the screen door of the lodge, pausing, and met his gaze. “The board seemed pleased with my work.” Two weeks before, she’d indicated that she was ready to move on. “Do they want me back in London, or elsewhere?”

He didn’t answer her question. He merely smiled.

She opened the door and went inside, her back to him as she paused and waited for him to follow.

The narrow corridor had twelve doors off it, and a storage cupboard at the far end. Plain and utility, the building smelled of citronella. Leonie had long since learned that the underlying citrus insect repellent was barely combated by her most expensive perfume. Once the screen door shut behind him, she heard his bag drop to the floor and felt his breath on her neck. Then she couldn’t smell the citronella any more, because he was so close to her that she could smell him, his cologne, the same one he always wore, and, beneath it, his scent. Her eyes closed, savouring it.

He stroked her hair. “Be honest,” he whispered against her ear, “you missed me.”

She couldn’t deny it, so she said nothing.

His hands closed over her shoulders and he turned her around, forcing her to look at him. “Tansy told me you always ask about me when you email her.”

Tansy had a lot to answer for.

“Idle curiosity.” His proximity overwhelmed her body with need, but her will defied it. She backed away and out of his grasp.

He closed again, reached out and touched one finger against her neck.

A stifled whimper escaped her lips. She tried to shift, but found herself backed against the wall.

“Idle curiosity? Is that all it was?” He rested the palm of his hand at her collarbone, capturing her, holding her still with his fingers on her collarbone.

She tried to quell her erratic breathing, aware that he could see and feel her reactions. He always had this effect on her. A master of seduction, he could push her buttons so easily. Nothing had changed. The only way to deal with it was to ignore him and not rise to his leading comments.

He lifted a strand of hair from her neck and looped it where the rest was clipped on top of her head. The intimate act threw her, fuelling her desires for him and him alone.

Ignore him.

He bent his head and brushed his mouth along her neck.

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