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Convincing himself that what she needed most was some space and time to herself—after all, hadn’t she chosen to come out here alone?—he was about to retreat when another powerful gust of wind slammed into them and she lost her balance.
In one stride, Alessio was next to her. He closed his arms around her and braced his strong legs to support them both against the force of the wind. ‘Do you have a death wish? It isn’t safe out here!’ She felt impossibly fragile and he wondered why she hadn’t already been blown over.
He glared down at her, but his feelings of anger and exasperation dissolved in an instant as he registered her tortured expression. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’
This was a different Lindsay. A desperately unsure, insecure Lindsay. There was no sign of the competent exterior that she presented to the world. She even looked different, for once oblivious to the fact that her hair was blowing loose around her face and the fact that she was dressed only in a swimming costume. She looked incredibly young.
Incredibly beautiful…
Engulfed by a sudden explosion of lust that was almost more powerful than the storm, Alessio contemplated slinging her over his shoulder and taking her back to the cottage for the type of one-on-one comfort he knew he was capable of delivering.
He was responsible for her upset and he was confident that he could fix it.
But then she lifted her eyes to his and she looked so vulnerable that for once he decided not to say what was on his mind.
Instead he dragged his gaze from the trembling curve of her soft mouth and tried to focus on something non sexual. Like the fact that they were both about to be blown to the outer rea
ches of the Caribbean. Torn between concern for her safety and guilt that he was the cause of her distress, he tried to haul her back up the path, but she refused to move. ‘We have to go inside.’
She looked at him blankly and exasperation mingled with concern because she was the most decisive woman he’d ever met and yet she was clearly incapable of making any sort of decision.
Tears glistened on her lashes and shadows flickered across her eyes. ‘What if you’re right?’ She had to raise her voice to be heard above the howl of the wind and he gritted his teeth.
There was a storm blowing and she wanted to talk?
‘I am right,’ Alessio assured her, confident that it was the right response regardless of the question. He slid his arm around her shoulders and urged her up the path. ‘We need to get inside. Now. Pronto. Before we find ourselves transported to the next island.’
‘No. I mean about Ruby.’ She stopped, her hand in her hair to prevent it from blowing wildly around her face. ‘What if you’re right about Ruby? What if the reason Ruby isn’t ringing me is because she thinks I’ll judge her? What if it is my fault? What if I’ve driven her away?’ Another powerful gust of wind almost knocked her off her feet and Alessio made a unilateral decision and scooped her into his arms.
She’ll thank me later, he thought as he strode back up the narrow, sandy path to the comparative safety of the cottage. Shouldering the door shut against the raging, angry storm, he lowered her gently to the floor.
‘Don’t leave the cottage again.’ His tone was sharper than he’d intended and when he saw the sheen in her eyes he cursed himself for not being more sympathetic. If he didn’t tread carefully she was going to dissolve in a sodden heap and that was the last thing he wanted or needed.
Resigned to the inevitable, he waited for her to collapse sobbing against his chest, but instead she turned away.
‘Just give me a minute.’
On unfamiliar territory, Alessio stared at her rigid shoulders, trying to work out what he was supposed to do next. Although he had plentiful experience of tearful women, he’d never been with one who didn’t want him to see her crying. And everything about her body language told him that Lindsay Lockheart was trying very hard not to let him see her crying.
Alessio hesitated, torn between the options of steering the conversation onto neutral ground and just dealing with the issue straight out.
Never one to avoid a problem, he tackled it head-on.
‘Apologies aren’t my speciality,’ he gritted, ‘but I think I owe you one. I was unsympathetic and my comments were far too personal—’
‘You don’t owe me an apology.’ She sounded stiff. Formal. And she still didn’t look at him. ‘You don’t have to apologise for being honest. I’m the one who was deluding myself.’ The only indication that she was still crying was the way she discreetly lifted her hand to wipe her face, but somehow that minimal gesture increased his feelings of guilt.
‘You obviously thought you were acting in the best interests of your sister—’ He broke off as he saw her flinch and lift a slender hand to silence him.
‘Alessio, please don’t say any more. There’s only so much honesty I can take in one go.’
He’d been trying to help. But softening the truth wasn’t his forte.
Alessio raked his fingers through his hair, stunned by the realisation that for once he was totally unsure what he should say next. He was a lawyer. He always knew what to say next. ‘What I’m trying to say is that you probably—definitely,’ he corrected himself swiftly, ‘you definitely know better than I do what works for Ruby.’
‘Apparently not.’
‘You’re a great sister.’ Alessio delivered that statement with what he hoped was an appropriate degree of conviction. ‘Ruby is lucky to have someone like you watching over her.’
