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“The villa’s housekeeper has called. She says Ms. Whittaker left the premises without telling anyone and that she borrowed the gardener’s scooter.”

Jared’s heart hit his tonsils. “When?”

“About half an hour ago.”

He swallowed down the curse, the frustration caused by Dario’s call coalescing into something a great deal more volatile.

Shouting instructions to the young man to have five of his men sent to Marina Grande, Capri’s main port, in case Katherine attempted to leave on the ferry, he strode out of the building.

As he mounted the bike and peeled away from the resort offices, his temper kicked in—but did nothing to override the wave of panic and concern.

He’d planned to create some distance today, for both their sakes, to give them time to get over last night’s mistake and control the hunger once and for all.

Trust Katherine to screw up his best laid plans.

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE ROAR OF the motorbike’s engine drowned out the putter of the tiny Vespa. Katie’s head whipped round and her heart charged into her throat as Jared’s monstrous black bike drew alongside. He signaled her to stop. Reluctantly, she braked on the deserted road.

Seriously? Can this day actually get any worse?

Stopping the bike in a spray of stones, Jared dragged off his helmet and dismounted. He stalked toward her, brushing back disheveled locks of dark hair. With his suit pants speckled with dust and his white shirt sticking to his chest in damp patches, he looked more untamed than she had ever seen him. As his big body bore down on her, the memories from the previous night came flooding back unbidden, dark and torrid, and only added to her humiliation. She forced herself to stand her ground as the shock of awareness reverberated through her system.

His head dipped. Even hidden behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses the heat of his gaze burned over every inch of exposed skin—which unfortunately was quite a lot in her T-shirt and shorts.

“Where the hell do you think you’re headed?” The growled demand had her temper kicking in at last, smothering the crippling pain caused by his note.

“I didn’t know I was under house arrest.”

He tore off his sunglasses and fury sparked in his deep-blue eyes.

“You spoiled brat! I’ve just spent the last half hour searching the island for you.”

The old insult stoked a restorative wave of fury.

“Why would you bother?” she snapped. “You’ve already deflowered me, remember?”

The insensitivity of his note cut her to the bone all over again. He’d destroyed her in that moment, the same way he had five years before. The same way her father had every time he’d made her feel small and insignificant. But she refused to be beaten down. Or ashamed of what she’d given freely and openly the night before. And the pleasure they’d shared.

He stiffened, obviously taken aback. “The note was supposed to be an apology for that.”

“If that’s your idea of an apology, you need a lot more practice.”

And did he really think an unnecessary apology was going to make her feel any better?

“Fine, I’ll say it again,” he ground out through gritted teeth. “I’m sorry about what happened last night. If I had known it was your first time, I would never have touched you.” He thrust his hand through his hair, making deep grooves in the sweat-soaked waves. If she hadn’t been so miserable, she might have taken some satisfaction in knowing she had finally blasted through his usual cool. “And you were the one who chose to keep it a secret.”

“Don’t you get it?” she asked. “I don’t need or want an apology. I wanted to make love to you. I made a choice. That I don’t regret. Even if you do.”

A choice she was now determined to own once and for all with this morning’s excursion, if she ever managed to find the place she’d been searching for in the dusty heat for over an hour.

“Oh, yeah? Then why the hell were you running away from me?” he asked, exasperated.

She stared at him, stunned by the passion in his voice. Seeing past her own unhappiness for a moment, she realized that more than impatience and temper lurked in his gaze.

But the thought he might be genuinely concerned for her failed to compute. Hadn’t she fallen down that rabbit hole the night before? And look what it had cost her. He didn’t care about her. The only reason he had shown her any consideration yesterday was through some warped sense of responsibility for her inexperience. And the only possible reason he could have for haring after her now was his dogged obsession with keeping the promise he had made to Dario.

“I wasn’t running away,” she murmured, suddenly weary of the argument, and clinging desperately to her composure. “I have somewhere I wanted to go.”

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