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His eyes fixed on her face and there was a short beat of silence and then, sliding beneath the sheet, he pulled her soft, unresisting body against his and, capturing her mouth, kissed her fiercely.

* * *

‘I’ll have your twos, please!’ Biting her lip nervously, Addie peered over the top of her sunglasses to where Malachi lay sprawled on the other side of the huge bean-filled lounger.

For a moment he stared impassively at his cards, and then finally he sighed and a wicked smile spread slowly over his face. ‘Go fish! And I’ll have your threes, please, sweetheart.’

‘You are such a rat!’ Shaking her head, she dropped her cards into his outstretched hand and picked up another from the deck.

Two minutes later it was all over.

Groaning, Addie rolled over onto her back. ‘I can’t believe I lost. Again. I thought you said you’d never played go fish before?’ she said accusingly.

Shuffling the cards with the skill of a Vegas croupier, Malachi grinned. ‘I haven’t. Is that why you wanted me to play with you?’ His eyes were watching her with amusement. ‘So you could take advantage of me.’

Addie laughed. ‘It did cross my mind.’

‘It did, did it?’ Reaching out, he grabbed hold of her hand and pulled her towards him, pinning her against the cushion with his thigh and his hand. ‘Then maybe I should reciprocate.’

Her breath caught in her throat as he picked up a handful of glossy red hair, threading it through his fingers.

‘Take advantage of you in some way.’

She stared up at him, tilting her head back to watch the play of sunlight on his face.

It had been a strange and strained few days. But Malachi seemed different now. Calmer...more relaxed. As though some tension had been eased. But then, she felt the same way too, so maybe it was just down to the two of them getting used to being around one another again.

Only it felt as if there was more to it than just the pair of them getting reacquainted. Her heart began to pound as she remembered how he had comforted her when she’d got upset. It was so out of character for him; he hated scenes, and yet he had shelved his obvious and pressing desire and let her talk—asking questions, listening to her answers.

Addie breathed out slowly. It was all so confusing. Almost as confusing as her feelings for Malachi.

She shouldn’t really be enjoying herself. And yet if she just concentrated on living in the moment then the truth was that she had never been happier. Not even when they were engaged and she’d thought Malachi actually loved her.

She felt his gaze on her face and, pushing aside her thoughts, reached out and looped her arms around his neck. ‘What do you have in mind?’ she said softly.

‘I’m not entirely sure,’ he murmured and, shifting forward, he covered her mouth with his and abruptly all conscious thought was driven from her head.

Later, body aching, she lay curled against him, her fingers tracing the muscles of his stomach.

‘So why are you opening a casino in Caracas, then?’ Tipping her head back, Addie stared up at him curiously.

Frowning, Malachi shrugged. ‘No reason other than I’ve been looking to expand into South America for a couple of years now.’

She nodded politely, barely listening. Her head was still reeling from the fact that he had asked her to go with him, and she wondered how this very public event fitted into their deal. Here, on this island, their relationship might be unorthodox but it was private. However, he could hardly parade her around as his mistress at some huge, social event.

Her heart skipped a beat.

But why did it matter? It wasn’t as if she cared.

The answer to her question popped into her head, unwelcome and unwanted like a bill through a letter box. Of course she cared. Not just about their relationship but about him.

She breathed out slowly. It wasn’t that much of a shock, but still—

It was strange, but even now, five years after they had separated, there was still this connection between them. Some sense of being more than married. It might not make any sense, and ultimately it didn’t change anything, but that didn’t stop it being the reason why she had never divorced him. Or why a tiny part of her wanted to stop being his mistress and go to Caracas as his wife.

His voice bumped into her thoughts and she stared up at him, trying to pick up the thread of their conversation.

‘Sorry—I was...’ She paused. ‘It’s just—are you sure you want me to be there?’

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