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‘Against loss of earnings from injury. It seemed a prudent thing to do.’
‘Prudent?’ echoed Leo. Prudent? A woman who thought nothing of stealing a ruby bracelet wasn’t someone he’d call prudent. A frown creased his brow. Today had shown him a new side to Anna Delane—as if she were just a normal person, instead of a criminal.
His eyes went to her as she looked out over the beach. The evening had been so good, the day so good, and he knew exactly how he wanted it to end. Anna looked so fantastic, long-limbed, beautiful, with the grace that took his breath away every time.
Emotion rose in him. It was desire, he knew it was—intense and piercing, making him want to get to his feet, sweep her up into his arms and find the nearest bedroom. It was a familiar feeling, one that came over him every night.
But there was something unfamiliar mingled in with desire. He searched for a moment, then gave up. It wasn’t anger, that was for sure, or exasperation, or annoyance, or any of the other frustrations that Anna Delane’s cussedness towards him always aroused. But what it was he had no idea. And because he couldn’t identify it, he put it aside. Right now he wasn’t interested. Right now there was only one thing he was interested in.
He took another mouthful of coffee, then put the cup down.
‘Have you finished your coffee?’ he asked. His voice had a husk in it.
Anna’s head swivelled round to him. Leo reached out his hand and smoothed it along her bare arm. Her skin was warm to the touch, as soft as the silk of her dress. His blood quickened at the touch; his eyelashes swept down over his darkening eyes. In his veins desire creamed, rich with anticipation.
She was just so beautiful, so desirable…
But even as his eyes rested on her, appreciating her delectable body, Anna’s expression was changing. Freezing.
He could feel her—see her—pulling away mentally and physically.
‘You said,’ she enunciated, ‘I could have the night off.’
It was like a slap with a wet towel. His hand drew back instantly.
And in the same instant the old, familiar flare of sheer exasperated anger shot through him.
He gave a short, heavy sigh.
‘Don’t tell me—it’s in your contract,’ he said grimly.
‘It was a verbal contract,’ she answered.
Leo’s eyes flashed. ‘You missed your vocation—you should have been a lawyer. Instead of a thief,’ he reminded her nastily.
Her face tightened. ‘You said I could have the night off,’ she repeated doggedly.
Angrily, Leo reached for his coffee again.
‘Do what you want,’ he said moodily, and took another mouthful. He wished it were brandy, so he could drink himself into oblivion. His body didn’t seem to want to be accepting of Anna’s rejection of him. He shifted restlessly.
‘Try a cold shower,’ he heard her say coolly.
He flashed a killing look at her.
Then went back to staring moodily into the night.
Damn Anna Delane. And damn himself for wanting her so much.
He thrust his cup aside again, and got to his feet. This was hopeless—he couldn’t sit there with her beside him, rejecting him.
‘I’ll see you at breakfast,’ he announced bleakly, and limped inside.
Out on the terrace, Anna sat still. It was her turn to stare moodily into the sub-tropical darkness.
Her turn to damn both herself and him. And, worst of all, to damn the desire he had quickened in her, which she was forcing down now with every ounce of her will-power lest it overpower her and send her running hungrily, desperately, after him.
CHAPTER NINE
THE project manager at Leo Makarios’s development complex was telling her about the different kinds of hardwood used in construction of the villas, but Anna was hardly paying attention. She was far too conscious of Leo’s presence beside her—much too aware of his edgy mood—and of her own.
Instead of luxuriating in an undisturbed night in her own bed she had slept badly, restless and interrupted. Now she felt heavy-eyed and bleary, but running with a tense energy.
Her mood was bleak. A truth was pressing at her that she didn’t want to accept—mustn’t accept. Her eyes slid past the half-constructed villas out over the endless seas beyond, and a hollow misery filled her. Oh, God, how had it come to this? Tossing and turning all night, staring blindly up at the ceiling, unable to find any peace, any repose—all for the sake of Leo Makarios?
Her eyes hardened beneath the concealing veil of her dark glasses. She had to fight this—she had to. It was nothing but a sick weakness—a stupid, unforgivable, temporary insanity. Nothing else. And she would overcome it! She had to—she just had to…
