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The boat purred to a stop and she heard the sound of grinding metal on metal as the anchor was let overboard. They were well out into the harbour, far from other boats, away from marine traffic, with a superb view back towards Sydney.
“Hello,” Benedict’s voice was husky as he came to sit beside her, carrying a bottle of chilled mineral water and two glasses.
Slipping her darkly tinted Ray Bans down over her eyes, she turned to face him. “Hello.” She took the glass he was offering and sipped it gratefully. Her own voice sounded foreign to her ears, breathy and sultry.
He reached across and eased her glasses up onto her head. “Don’t hide from me.”
She furrowed her brow. “Don’t boss me around.”
His lopsided grin made her heart squeeze. “Don’t make me boss you around.”
A blush crept through her cheeks and she turned to stare straight ahead. “Is daddy downstairs?”
“They couldn’t make it. Alyssia wasn’t well.”
“Oh!” She exclaimed, her mouth making a perfect circular shape of surprise as she turned an accusing glance on him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you might have insisted we cancel our plans.”
He frown deepened. “So? I know you like being with me about as much as I like being with you, which is to say, not a lot at all.”
“That’s not exactly accurate,” he contradicted, reaching across and tucking a blonde hair behind her ear.
“What is accurate, then, Bennedict?” She asked in exasperation.
“I’m leaving Sydney when Peter and Ayssia do,” he said smoothly. And although the birds kept flying overhead, the water kept lapping, and the sun was still shining, Cassandra could have sworn the earth had just imploded. Maybe it was just her own earth.
“You are?” She repeated, struck dumb by desperation. Now that the moment was upon her, it was too soon. She couldn’t let him go. Ben, Benedict, whoever he was, she couldn’t do it.
He nodded. “I am.”
“But...why? I mean, I thought your high rise project here was going to take a few years.”
His glance was nonchalant, as though he didn’t care either way. “The construction is in good hands. I’ll come back as necessary, but only for a day or two, and probably not more than twice a year. I’m in the process of acquiring a property in Spain that requires more urgent attention.”
Feigning bravado she didn’t feel, she rested her pale gaze on his face, making sure her expression was calm. “I don’t know why you’re telling me this. I always presumed we would go our separate ways once daddy leaves.”
“Did you?” He murmured, incapable of looking anywhere but the full swell of her pale pink lips. He brought a finger up and traced the outline distractedly, first the top lip, then the bottom, watching, fascinated, as those same lips parted and she took in a deep breath.
“I told you last night, there are many things I regret about my behaviour towards you.” He rearranged himself so that he was sitting behind her. Gently, he tugged at her shoulders so that she fell back to lean against his broad, muscled chest. His arms wrapped around her waist, and he could feel her heart racing in her slender frame. “Do you know what I’d regret most?”
“What?” It was so quiet, the wind almost carried it away before he could hear it. But every fibre of his being was attuned to every nuance of hers.
“Not trying to get to know the real you. For one night. Just one night, where you’re Cassandra Hervey and I’m Benedict Savarin, only we don’t hate each other. We’re just two people, who have off-the-charts chemistry, getting to know each other properly.”
She stilled. “Why? What could we hope to achieve? At best, we come to realise that we might have had something real, in different circumstances. What if you decide I’m not so hateable? What if you actually decide you like what you get to know? Don’t you think that would make it even harder to walk away from me?”
“Walking away from you isn’t about hard or easy, it’s about what’s right.” She felt his sigh, as his chest heaved her body dipped. “Apart from my mother, I’ve never loved or trusted another human being in my life. I don’t have relationships, I have acquaintances. I don’t have friends, I have colleagues and employees. I don’t have girlfriends, I have mistresses.” She bristled at his decisive description of his lifestyle.
“That just sounds lonely.” The sympathy in her voice was unmistakable.
“Maybe. But it’s how I choose to live. I saw what loving someone does. My mum was a broken woman after my father left. She lived out the rest of her days in misery and abject poverty. She had trusted someone who didn’t deserve her, and she paid the price. She had trusted her parents, loved them, too, and they’d betrayed her. No relationship is immune from the pressures of selfishness.”
“You have an incredibly low opinion of love.” She remarked wistfully.
“Ahh, Cassandra, don’t you realise? You were my ultimate lesson.” He was running his hands over her shoulders now, and beneath his warm palms, her skin was goosebumping as sensation overrode her body.
“I was?” She asked, though dread was knotting her stomach.
