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‘Who? Laura? I can’t say I noticed,’ she lied, compressing her lips together.
‘She is certainly a handful.’
Rosa fixed a thin smile to her face. It was the most she could manage.
‘It seems to me Robert has his work cut out keeping her in line.’
‘I doubt anyone could keep her in line,’ she retorted tartly. Did Nico have to talk about that woman? ‘Besides, they’re made for each other.’
Nico raised a brow.
‘He gets a beautiful young bimbo on his arm; she gets to inherit billions when he dies.’
‘I’ve never known you to be such a cynic,’ he mused.
She took a long sip of wine and then quickly put the glass back down. Her tongue was starting to loosen—a sure sign it was time to switch to water.
There was something else eating away at her too: a low, queasy ache that clutched at her chest and swirled in her belly, making her want to pounce on the Amazonian and tell her to keep her manicured mitts off her husband.
But Nico was not going to be her husband for much longer. In any event, she had no proprietorial rights to him. Theirs was an open marriage. There were no propriety rights. Even if he was trying to establish some for his own ends.
‘So you think she is beautiful?’ Nico asked, his voice mild, uninterested.
‘Of course. Don’t you?’ She almost laughed. As if Nico would think Laura anything but a beautiful sun. Physically, she was exactly his type. No wonder he couldn’t stop talking about her—and this from a man who never talked anything but business.
After a pause, Nico said, ‘Anyone who spends that amount of time, money and effort on herself could not look anything but beautiful.’
Flattened, Rosa nearly reached for her wine again, but then she froze, suddenly aware of Nico leaning over into her personal space. He put his mouth to her ear, close enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath.
All at once her heart-rate tripled.
Tingles of awareness spread throughout her skin, like hot treacle swimming under the surface, throbbing down low, deep in her core.
Her mouth ran dry as this one intimate moment consumed her entire being.
Whatever Nico had planned to whisper was cut off as Robert came back to the table, breaking the spell with an almost tangible snap.
‘Excuse me, lovebirds,’ he said, winking at them as he took his seat. ‘Sorry to interrupt.’
‘You are not interrupting anything,’ Nico said with his usual calmness, draping a casual arm across Rosa’s back.
Laura chose that moment to make a reappearance too. From the manic way she was speaking, and the amount of sniffing she was now doing, Rosa suspected she had taken the term ‘powder her nose’ literally.
There were not many people she disliked, but Laura King was fast becoming one of them. Generally she tried not to judge a book by its cover—even beautiful, leggy women—but if that woman fluttered her eyelashes at Nico one more time she swore she would stick a fork in her leg.
As consolation, she reminded herself that they only had around a week left on this island, and then she would never have to see Laura again.
She wouldn’t have to see Nico again either.
She took her glass and finished the wine in one swallow.
‘Is something the matter?’ Nico asked.
She shivered. ‘Someone walked over my grave.’
It was almost the truth. For that brief moment the thought of leaving him had felt like a bereavement.
She had to remind herself she was doing the right thing.
Marrying Nico had triggered something inside her. At first it had been so subtle she hadn’t noticed it, but as time had gone on it had crept under her skin and into her psyche. No matter how hard she’d tried to keep her distance, no matter how hard she’d tried to keep their relationship professional and companionable, that something had fought to be heard.
She had run from it. She had refused to work permanently for him because of it, blithely covering her ears in a futile attempt to drown out the noise and pretend it didn’t exist.
Well, she heard it loud and clear now.
Desire. Lust. Need. Whatever name you gave it, it amounted to the same thing.
She didn’t want to need anyone—least of all Nico.
The sooner they completed this project the better.
Leaving Nico had never felt so imperative.
‘You’re looking peaky, lady.’ Robert’s booming voice broke through her red-coloured thoughts.
Nico’s turned his head, his sharp eyes narrowing as he studied her. ‘Another ghost?’ he asked ironically.
‘I think now would be a good time to let her in on the surprise you have arranged,’ Robert said.
A sudden sense of dread washed over her. Whatever Nico had been plotting, it could not be good news.
