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She listened, but all she could hear was the gentle slap of the waves against the side of the boat and the odd shrill cry of a gull. ‘I can’t hear anything.’
Gently, he rubbed at the worry lines between her eyes. ‘That’s because they don’t exist.’ He sighed. ‘Why would I do that? Arrange an intimate lunch with you on my boat and then go and invite hundreds of guests along for the ride?’
She gaped at him. ‘Your boat? You own this?’
Something in her voice seemed to cut through the hard lump of tension inside him. For a moment back there, when his phone had started ringing, he’d almost changed his mind. But now, watching her eyes widen with astonishment, he felt calmer. Grinning, he tightened his grip on her hand and tugged her after him.
They were halfway up the gangway now and, looking up, Flora could see several men wearing shorts and T-shirts starting to assemble on the deck. ‘Who are they?’ she squeaked.
He glanced up. ‘They’re the crew.’
Crew! Flora felt her stomach flip over. But it was no good digging in her heels any more. They were on the boat now, and Massimo was shaking hands with the members of his crew.
Staring dazedly across the deck, she felt his hand around her waist and, taking a deep breath, she turned to face him. ‘Isn’t it a little small?’ she murmured.
His eyes gleamed. ‘It’s eighty metres!’
She met his gaze, a smile tugging at her lips. ‘So it’s not true then, what they say about men with big boats...?’
He laughed softly.
She smiled up at him, and he felt his body grow hard at the soft, teasing look in her eyes. ‘So, do I get to wear a uniform while I’m on the boat?’
‘I don’t know if we’ve got anything in your size,’ he said, running his fingers along the bare flesh of her arm.
Inside his pocket he felt his phone vibrate, but today was going to be all about him and Flora. Nothing was going to come between them.
Probably not a uniform.
And certainly not his past.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘I CAN’T BELIEVE how soft this is. It feels just like powder.’
Reaching down, Flora picked up a handful of sand and let it run through her fingers. Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she glanced over her shoulder at the dunes that edged the beach.
‘I wonder what grows here. Euphorbia, maybe? Anyway, it’ll probably be something quite hardy—something that doesn’t need many nutrients.’
Crouching down beside her, Massimo sighed. ‘Probably,’ he agreed. ‘But I do need nutrients, cara. So can we please go and eat? Much as I love sand, you can’t eat it—and I’m absolutely starving.’
He pulled her to her feet, and slowly they began to walk up the beach.
‘Are you sure this is okay?’ She looked up at him, not anxious, just curious. ‘I thought you were going to work from home today?’
His gaze held hers. ‘I’m the boss, cara. I make the rules. I don’t follow them. Besides, today is about work.’
Her heart gave a thud. Of course—he’d probably brought her here to hassle her about the palazzo. She felt a sharp twist of anger. If only she hadn’t allowed her stupid body to start calling the shots she might actually have seen that one coming.
‘What do you mean?’ she said dully.
His face was expressionless. ‘One thing business has taught me is that you need to plan for the worst.’
‘And what’s that?’ she croaked.
‘I lose my job. My business. So, as I see it, spending time with you is just like training for a new career. If I can stop you from picking a fight with me, I reckon I could easily get a job as a diplomat. Give me a couple of weeks and I might even sort out peace in the Middle East—no problem.’
For a moment she couldn’t breathe. She was too shocked...angry...relieved. Then, looking up at him, she saw that he was laughing. And after a moment she started to laugh too.
