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The sensual intent in his eyes was unmistakable.

‘Are you sure no one can see us?’ she asked, breathless with longing.

He nuzzled her breast, tugging her nipple into his mouth. ‘I’m sure.’ He licked her and tortured her until she was a mass of pure sensation. ‘I told you this place is totally off-limits to anyone else.’

‘Your own private paradise,’ she husked, reaching to touch him anywhere she could.

His smile turned sexy as he kissed his way down her body. ‘I think that’s what I might start calling you,’ he murmured, parting her legs so that he could press his tongue high along the inside of her thigh.

Regan cried out, gripping his shoulders, her insides pulsing with sensual anticipation of his wicked touch.

‘My own private paradise,’ he agreed, dipping his head to take her to her own private paradise, and leaving her wondering how she was ever going to get over him.

What must have been at least an hour later, given the placement of the sun, she woke to find Jag sitting on a nearby rock and staring out at the water. She took a moment to study him, drinking him in so that later, when he was no longer around, she could recall exactly how he looked. The feeling was at once bittersweet and utterly frightening.

As always, he sensed her eyes on him and turned to her. Their eyes met and for a moment they just stared at each other. Shockingly, the connection between them was almost more intimate than the sex. She blushed, wondering what thoughts were going through his mind, but she was too cowardly to ask. He wanted her; she knew that without a doubt, so she was determined just to enjoy it for what it was.

He held out his hand to her and a small smile tilted her lips. She loved the way he did that, offered her his hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world. As if she was the most important person in the world to him.

A rush of emotion made her fingers uncoordinated as she fixed the sarong over her breasts and tried to untangle the knots in her hair formed by his nimble fingers. When she reached him he slowly drew her to him and wedged her between his legs, her back to his front. She felt him bury his face against her hair and breathe deeply. Warmth suffused her and she turned, lifting her face for his kiss, when his phone rang.

Grimacing with annoyance, he reached around her and pressed the button. Regan heard an outpouring of Santarian and felt the immediate tensing of his body.

Slowly he disengaged them and strode across the sand. Watching him, Regan knew instantly what had happened even before he turned to her, a

coolness in his eyes when before there had only been heat and need.

‘They’re back, aren’t they?’

He nodded. ‘Time to get dressed.’

CHAPTER ELEVEN

A HEAVY SILENCE permeated the helicopter ride on the trip back to the palace, making it seem interminable. Jag appeared to be as caught up in his thoughts as she was in hers, neither one of them making any overtures to the other. It was as if the lover she had spent the day with had vanished, to be replaced by the cold man she had met at the bar. Gone was the domesticated pussycat indulging her in endless pleasure by the side of the lagoon.

A sense of rising dread churned her stomach the further they flew, her feelings divided between wanting Chad to be okay, and concern over what had happened and how that would impact on the man beside her. She wondered if Jag remembered the deal they had struck. She knew that he would honour it. But then what?

With expert precision the pilot landed on the helipad and Jag jumped to the ground, only absently reaching back to assist her to duck beneath the whirring overhead blades.

He strode ahead of her up the path towards the rear of the palace, and Regan finally got to experience what it felt like to walk two paces behind him. Or maybe four. Quickening her pace, she barely noticed the decadent scent of the magnolia trees that lined the path, or the velvet dark sky above.

Jag pushed open a heavy set of doors at the end of a long corridor, his stride not faltering as he strode up to his sister and enfolded her in his arms.

He held her to him for a long moment. A lump rose in Regan’s throat and then her eyes sought out the other occupant of the room.

‘Chad.’ His lanky frame looked as hale and hearty as always and she rushed over and hugged him tightly. ‘I’ve been so worried.’

Chad hugged her back. ‘Me too.’

The hairs on the nape of her neck prickled and she turned to see Jag staring at her brother.

Tension rocketed into the room like an incoming sandstorm. ‘You have a lot to answer for.’

‘No.’ Milena placed her hand on Jag’s arm. ‘Don’t blame Chad. It was all my idea.’

Jag’s thunderous expression returned to Milena. ‘What exactly was all your idea?’

‘It’s a long story.’ Milena sighed. ‘And I’m sorry I worried you. I know I did the wrong thing but I felt as if I had no choice. But first...you’re engaged...’ Her lovely eyes fastened on Regan. ‘Is that right? Chad said it wasn’t possible, but you’re wearing the most important family heirloom in the collection, so it must be.’

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