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‘I’m glad I’m doing so much walking about—everything here is so scrumptious it’s difficult to say no.’ She sighed.
‘We are still talking about food, aren’t we?’ deadpanned Luc, and Veronica could only laugh.
‘Then we’ll stop off for lunch at Gordes on the way back,’ he decided, dismissing her half-hearted suggestion that Melanie would be expecting them back. By now the routine had been established—if any work had to be done it was done in the morning, the heat of the afternoon was time for siesta and the various members of the family to more or less please themselves where they went, only all coming together again in the evening for a leisurely alfresco dinner.
The day before, Veronica and Luc had lunched at a cheap market stall where delicious paella had been ladled out from a huge, simmering cauldron, and the day before that at an elegant, terraced restaurant high above the famous red ochre cliffs of Roussillon, where every dish had been a visual, as well as culinary, feast.
So today it was the little village perched on the crest of a rocky peak, stone houses and winding streets cascading down the hillside from the medieval château and church at the top. In the shady courtyard of a tiny restaurant protected by vine-covered stone walls, Veronica ate chicken roasted to melting tenderness in herbs and served on a little cake of smoothed lentils mixed with vegetables, and gorged herself on a luscious fig tart for dessert.
Mellowed by the food and wine, she stopped inspecting his every word and expression for ulterior meanings and allowed herself to be entertained by his scathing wit and far-ranging conversation, ever more intrigued by the complexities of his personality. In the mature man she could see the echoes of the orphan boy that Melanie had found so disconcerting, his freewheeling mind constantly absorbed by new ideas and challenges, his emotional detachment most obvious when his intellect was fully engaged. Yet he also possessed a deeply sensual side to his nature with which he seemed equally at ease.
Later that afternoon, Veronica was floating dreamily on her back in the swimming pool, spread-eagled arms gently paddling to keep herself afloat, the sun burning hot against her closed eyelids as she continued to ponder the fascinating contradictions in Luc Ryder’s character.
A loud splash invaded her drifting consciousness, destroying the serenity of the pool and causing her limbs to flail as she tried to keep herself afloat on the suddenly choppy surface of the water. At first she thought it must be Sophie doing one of her forbidden ‘bombs’, but as she coughed up a mouthful of water and blinked away the blurry beading along her eyelashes she caught sight of a male body shooting past her under the water.
Instant exhilaration charged through her veins and she jackknifed upright, planting her feet firmly astride on the bottom of the chest-deep pool to brave the slapping waves, sweeping the water from her hair and face as she turned to face the invader. In spite of Melanie’s open invitation she had tried to avoid coming down to the pool when she knew the adult members of the family were using it, several times having backed off after glimpsing Luc cutting smoothly through the water on a seemingly endless series of laps, barely creating a ripple with his streamlined stroke.
Expecting a sleek, seal-dark head to break the water after the dive, followed by a pair of lean, tawny shoulders, she felt a stab of disappointment as she saw Ross Bentley’s chiselled features bob up at the far end of the pool. To her dismay he flashed a smile at her expectant face and began to swim back towards her, head down, his solid arms and legs attacking the water with more aggression than grace.
r /> Uncaring that it might seem rude, Veronica headed for the wide, curving stairs at the near end of the pool, but before she could get there Ross circled around in front of her, one hand reaching up to grip the tiled edge of the pool and pull himself upright, barring her way with his thick body, bronzed to an unlikely tan by the exclusive Melbourne sun-bed clinic Ashley had boasted they had both attended to prepare for the holiday.
‘What’s your hurry?’ he said, with a smug grin. ‘I saw you swimming earlier—you’re not too bad, for a woman. What say we have a race? I was a surf life-saving champ for years, so to make it fair I’ll let you have a good head start.’
He managed to incorporate some reference to his own superior attributes into almost every statement he made, thought Veronica, aware that to argue would invite more of his unwanted attention. She had offended his ego by ignoring him at their first meeting and he was determined to make her regret it, but she was extremely wary of his over-friendliness and constant preening, sensing that it was less to do with her than with his competitive need to assert his masculinity in front of an Alpha male. Unfortunately, he had all of Luc’s arrogance but none of his insight or critical self-awareness, and his inability to laugh at himself was a serious handicap to his charm.
On the second night of her stay, Veronica had allowed herself to be gently bullied into having dinner with the Reeds when they had some friends over, thinking it would give her the excuse to politely refuse future invitations. The extra company of strangers had provided some welcome camouflage, but she had spent an uncomfortable part of the evening trying to steer clear of Ross’s roving eyes and hands, and since then had taken care not to be left alone with him.
Now she was in precisely the kind of situation she had tried to avoid. Clad only in a skimpy, halter-necked tankini, she was acutely aware of her vulnerability.
‘I think I’ve been in long enough already—my skin is starting to get waterlogged.’ She laughed lightly to cover her unease, lifting a hand out of the water to waggle her slightly wrinkled fingers at him.
He grabbed her wrist, holding it playfully tight as he crabbed closer. ‘Oh, c’mon, you don’t really want to get out,’ he told her confidently. ‘Didn’t I see you playing pool tag yesterday with Sophie—how about a game of that with me?’
‘Sounds a bit too strenuous right now,’ she responded, her skin crawling at the thought. ‘I only came in to cool off. Um, where’s Ashley?’ she asked brightly, looking hopefully past him to the pathway that led from the house.
Her heart sank when his beefy, wet shoulders shrugged. ‘Who knows? She’s in one of her pets because it was her turn to help Zoe around the house.’ His mouth twisted in derision. ‘Can you believe that even after what happened to Melanie they don’t have a full-time housekeeper, just a cleaner who comes in a couple of times a week?’
‘Well, this is a family holiday home, not a full-service hotel,’ Veronica pointed out, using the distraction to twist her arm so that it slid out of his wet grasp. ‘Enjoy your swim!’ she added, attempting to dive around him without waiting for a reply.
But her triumphant relief was short-lived when he threw his body sideways so that she bumped into him, laughing as she surfaced, spluttering.
‘I thought you didn’t want to play,’ he said, starting to rough-house in earnest, taking an almost sadistic pleasure in the unevenness of the contest, his legs tangling with hers as his hands tried to drag her under.
‘I don’t—’ she said, threshing away from him, the back of her neck hitting the tiled edge of the pool, too intent on her furious defence to notice Sophie briefly appear from between the flowering oleanders and drop her towel as she turned to race back towards the house. ‘Go and find Ashley if you want a playmate—’
‘Aw, don’t be like that!’ He chased after her, still laughing, caging her with both arms against the plastered side of the pool. ‘You looked bored floating around by yourself. I just thought a big girl like you might be up for a little bit of fun—’
‘Not with you—’ Too late she realised the revulsion that had leaked into her voice was a direct attack on his vanity.
His laughter congealed into an ugly grin. ‘You suddenly got something better to do? Or should I say someone? You looked keen enough when you saw me dive in. Maybe you thought I was lover-boy—’
Something must have flickered in her eyes because his expression turned malicious as he realised his random spite had hit a mark. ‘You did!’ he crowed, thrusting his face aggressively towards hers to jeer: ‘You can stop acting holier than thou about Ashley and me if that’s what you’re up to. But you’re kidding yourself if you think a freckle-faced hick like you is anything special to him. He’s had more beautiful women than you’ve had hot dinners. Your sister, for one—’
Veronica went rigid. ‘That’s not true!’
‘Oh, yeah? AskAsh! Melanie emailed her some pictures on their last visit to London, and they show Karen draped all over Ryder at some fancy dinner he took them to…You’re not going to tell me a guy like him is going to turn down a looker like your sister when she climbs into his lap to play kissy-face—’
‘It really isn’t any of my business,’ she said through stiff lips, but Ross had scented blood in the water and ripped into her with a shark-like tenacity.
