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Rosa sighed in her sleep, the muted sound a welcome distraction. Ruminating on the past was pointless. He turned his face to stare at her back, as stiff as a rod even in slumber. Only the top of her ebony hair was poking out beneath the cocoon of blankets she had made for herself.
Did Rosa have a picture of her parents in her wallet?
He felt a sharp pang in his chest. At least his father was still alive. Rosa had no one.
Rubbing his hand down his face, he closed his eyes.
He needed to get some sleep. His mind was all over the place, heading into dangerous territory.
The sooner the sun came up the better. Then he could advance his seduction of her and find some peace in knowing his marriage was intact.
* * *
The bed dipped.
Rosa’s eyes snapped open.
Sitting at the foot of the bed, tray in hand, was Nico.
‘I bring you breakfast,’ he said, flashing his white teeth at her.
‘What time is it?’ she asked, placing a hand over her mouth to smother a yawn.
‘Nine o’clock.’
She groaned and squeezed her eyes shut. It still felt like the middle of the night.
As ridiculous as she knew it to be, she had spent the night rooted to the spot, not quite at the edge of the bed, too scared to move. Her limbs ached from being forced to remain in the same position for hours on end.
No matter how hard she’d tried, she had been unable to relax. She had been far too aware of the warm body lying mere feet away from her. Every time she had dozed off Nico’s scent had wafted under her nose, yanking her right back into consciousness.
‘Come on, lazy bones, sit up. Your breakfast is getting cold.’
It took a few moments, but somehow she managed to disentangle herself from the sheets that had smothered her all night and hoik herself upright. Now she was moving blood moved freely back to her limbs, which were all screaming obscenities at her.
‘Have you been working out?’ she asked, noting the sheen of perspiration soaking through his white T-shirt. He used their home gym regularly, but jogging was his preferred form of exercise. She guessed being stuck in the middle of the ocean limited his options for a good run.
‘I have,’ he said, placing the tray on her lap and removing the silver lid from the plate to reveal poached eggs on toast. A bowl of fruit and a glass of orange juice were placed next to it. He got to his feet. ‘Coffee?’
‘Yes, please.’ She rubbed at her neck before taking a drink of the orange juice, which went some way to soothing her arid throat.
‘Is your neck hurting again?’
She pulled a face.
‘Would you like me to rub it better for you?’
‘Would you like me to stab you with my fork?’ Not taking her eyes off him, she stabbed it into an egg.
Amusement played on his lips. ‘I have a weapon I can assault you with if you are so inclined.’
‘Don’t start,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘It’s too early for innuendoes.’
‘Our deal only lasted for a night,’ he reminded her with a lopsided grin. ‘You’re now officially fair game.’
‘Not until we’ve done three rounds of chess.’ She winced as she felt another sharp twinge in her neck.
‘It’s hardly surprising you’re having neck problems with the way you sleep,’ Nico said, resting his arms back and openly studying her with his gorgeous green eyes. ‘It was like sleeping next to a mannequin. Tell me—do all women sleep as if they are encased in concrete?’
‘You should know—you’ve slept with enough of us.’ She popped some egg and toast into her mouth.
‘I have never slept with a woman in my life.’
Rosa stopped chewing and eyed him with suspicion. Swallowing the food, she almost choked. ‘Nico, you have slept with loads of women.’
‘That is inaccurate. I have never actually slept with a woman before.’
‘Rubbish. You’ve slept with more women then I have digits and limbs. And eyes. And—’
‘No.’ He cut her off with an amused frown. ‘I have had sex with a number of women, but I have never slept with any of them.’
She could not hide her incredulity. ‘Seriously? You’ve never fallen asleep with a woman before?’
‘I find women like cuddles after sex.’ He spoke as if cuddles were a dirty word. ‘But that is not for me.’
‘What do you do, then?’ she asked, horrified and fascinated all at once. ‘Kick them out of bed the second you’ve come? Or do you come and run?’ She laughed at her own joke, anything to hide the sickening churn of her stomach.
‘It’s not quite as sordid as you’re trying to make out. I have never invited a woman into my bed, so that situation has never arisen. I simply thank them for a great evening and leave.’
