The Ultimate Playboy

Chapter SEVEN


SHE WAS WARM. And comfortable. The steady sound drumming in her ears soothed her, made her feel safe from the erratic dreams that still played in her mind.

But she wanted to get warmer still. Wanted to burrow in the solid strength surrounding her.

The heart beating underneath her cheek—

Ruby jerked awake.

‘Easy now, tigress. You’ll do yourself an injury.’

‘What the hell...? What are you doing here?’

‘Sharing the bed. As you can see, once again I managed to restrain myself. And this time we’re both fully clothed. That means I win brownie points.’

‘You win nothing for letting yourself into my bed uninvited.’

‘Technically, this is my bed, Goldilocks. Besides, you were muttering in your sleep and tossing and turning when I looked in on you. I had to make sure you didn’t sleepwalk yourself out of an emergency exit in your agitation.’

Ruby tried to pry herself away from the inviting length of his warm body, but the arm clamped around her waist refused to move. ‘I wasn’t that agitated.’

Silver eyes pinned hers. ‘Yes, you were. Tell me what upset you.’ His voice was cajoling, hypnotic.

She wanted to tell him about the undeniable threat in the email that had made a shaft of ice pierce her nape and shimmer down her spine. The loan shark had stepped up his threat level, implicating her mother.

Ironic that Narciso, the world-famous playboy and media mogul, had no idea who her mother was but some two-bit loan shark who inhabited the dregs of society knew who Paloma Trevelli was enough to threaten to break her legs if Ruby didn’t reply with a timescale of payment.

Her reply had bought her a few more days but there was no way she intended to tell Narciso what was going on.

‘I told you. It’s my business to handle.’

‘Not if it will potentially impede your ability to perform your job.’

‘I can cook blindfolded.’

‘That I would pay good money to see.’ He pulled her closer, wedging his thigh more firmly between hers so she was trapped. Some time during sleep, she’d curled her hand over his chest. Now, firm muscles transmitted heat to her fingers, making them tingle.

Awareness jolted through her when his lips drifted up her cheek to her temple. ‘If we weren’t landing in less than thirty minutes, I’d take this a step further, use other means to find out what’s going on.’

‘You’re operating under the assumption that I would’ve permitted it.’

He laughed, then sobered. ‘It wasn’t your father, was it?’

‘No, it wasn’t.’

He stared down at her for a long time, then nodded. ‘I did some research while you were asleep. I know about your parents.’

‘Oh?’ She couldn’t help the wave of anxiety that washed over her.

His eyes narrowed. ‘Has it always been like that with them?’

That mingled thread of pain and humiliation when she thought of them tightened like a vice around her heart. ‘You mean the crazy circus?’

He nodded.

‘Until I went to college, yes. I didn’t return home afterward. And I have minimal contact these days. Any more and it gets...unpleasant.’

‘For whom?’

‘For everyone. My father is a serial adulterer who doesn’t understand why I won’t condone his behaviour. My mother doesn’t understand why I don’t forgive my father every time he strays. They both want me to join the family business. The same business for which they shamelessly exploit their fame, their family, their friends—’ She ground to a halt and tried to breathe around the pain in her chest.

His hand stroked down her cheek. ‘You hate yourself for the way you feel.’

Feeling exposed, she tried to pull away. He held her firmer. ‘Ruby mio, I think you’ll agree we went way past business when we spent the night together in my bed. Talk to me,’ he coaxed.


She drew in a shaky breath and reassured herself that they were talking. Just talking. ‘I hate that my family is broken and I can’t see a way to fix it without being forced to live my life in a media circus.’

‘And yet you chose that avenue to fund your business.’

‘Believe me, it wasn’t my first choice.’

‘Then why did you do it?’

‘We’d tried getting loans from the banks with no success. Simon heard about the show and convinced me to enter. Taking three weeks out of my life to be on the show felt like a worthy sacrifice.’

‘So you returned to the thing you hate the most in order to achieve your goal.’

‘Does that make me a fool?’

‘No, it makes you brave.’

The unexpected compliment made her heart stutter. Silver eyes rested on her, assessing her so thoroughly, she squirmed. Of course the movement made her body rub dangerously against his.

He emitted a leonine growl and the arm around her waist tightened. One hand caught her bent leg and hitched it higher between his legs. The bold imprint of his erection seared her thigh. Heat flared between them, raw and fervent.

‘So you don’t think it’s wrong to do whatever it takes to achieve one’s dreams?’

His eyes darkened. ‘No. In fact, it’s a trait I wholeheartedly admire.’

Her throat clogged at the sincerity in his voice. The barriers she’d tried so hard to shore up threatened to crumble again. A pithy, mocking Narciso was bad enough. A gentle, caring Narciso in whose eyes she saw nothing but admiration and praise was even more dangerous to her already fragile emotions.

Scrambling to regroup, she laughed. ‘Dear God, am I dreaming? That’s two compliments within—’

‘Enough,’ he snapped. Then he kissed her.

Ruby’s heart soared at the ferocity of his kiss. Desire swept over her, burying the volatile memories under even more turbulent currents of passion as he mercilessly explored her mouth with a skill that left her reeling.

Narciso could kiss. She already had proof of that. But this time the sharper edge of hunger added another dimension that made her heart pump frantically, as she saw no let-up in the erotic torrents buffeting her.

When he sank back against the pillows and pulled her on top of him, she went willingly. Strong, demanding hands slid up her bare thighs to cup her bottom, press her against that solid evidence of his need.

Unfamiliar hunger shot through her belly to arrow between her legs. Desperate to ease it, she rocked her hips deeper into him.

His thick groan echoed between their fused lips. He surged up to meet her, thrusting against her in an undeniable move that made her blood pound harder.

With her damp centre plastered so firmly and fully against him, she moaned as the beginnings of a tingle seized her spine. Hunger tore through her as rough fingers bit into her hips, keeping her firmly in place as they found a superb synchronicity that needed no words.

The first wave of sensation hit her from nowhere. She cried out, her fingers spiking into his hair as she grasped stability in a world gone haywire.

‘Dio! Let go, baby. Let go.’

The hot words, crooned in her ear from a voice she’d found mesmerising from the very first, were the final catalyst. With a jagged moan, Ruby gave into the bliss smashing through her. She melted on top of him, giving in to the hands petting down her back as her shudders eased.

‘I don’t know whether to celebrate for making you come while we’re both fully dressed or spank you for your appalling timing.’

Slowly, the realisation of what she’d just done pierced her euphoria.

Beneath her cheek, his heart raced. She could feel his erection still raging, strong and vital.

She’d orgasmed on top of Narciso Valentino and he hadn’t even needed to undress her.

‘Oh, God.’

Narciso held himself very still. He had to, or risk tearing her clothes off and taking her with the force of a rutting bull.

‘God isn’t going to help you now, naughty Ruby. You have to deal with me.’

‘I... That shouldn’t have happened.’

He nodded grimly. ‘I agree.’

Wide blue eyes locked on his. ‘You do?’

He swallowed hard. ‘It should’ve happened when I was inside you. Now I feel woefully deprived.’ Unable to stop himself, he moved his hands up and down her back. He tensed as her breathing changed. Desire thickened the air once more. Sensing her about to bolt, he flipped her over and trapped her underneath him. ‘But I have you now.’

She tried to wriggle away but all she did was exacerbate the flashflood of desire drowning them both.

‘No, I can’t... We can’t do this.’

He stiffened. ‘Why not?’

‘It won’t end well. Simon—’

His eyes narrowed into warning slits. ‘Was a cheating lowlife who didn’t deserve you. You and I together...we’re different. We deserve each other.’

Narciso speared his fingers into her soft hair. But instead of kissing her, he grazed his lips along her jaw and down her throat to the pulse racing crazily there. He drew down her sleeves, exposing her breasts to his mouth. His mind screamed at him to stop before it was too late, but he was already sliding his tongue over one nipple.

Dio! He’d never known a woman to smash so effortlessly through his defences.

Her nails raked his nape and he groaned in approval. By the time he turned his attention to her other nipple, her whimpers were adding fire to his raging arousal.

She tugged on his shirt and he gave in to her demand. With a ragged laugh, he helped her reef it over his head and divested her of her dress.

Stark hunger consumed him as he took a moment to feast his eyes on her exposed body. ‘You’re so beautiful.’ He drifted a hand down her chest and over her stomach to the top of her panties.

That disconcerting throb of possessiveness rocked through him again. He didn’t want to know who else she’d been with but, in that moment, Narciso was glad her ex-business partner had failed to make her his. He settled himself over her, taking her mouth in a scorching kiss that obliterated words and feelings he didn’t want to examine too closely.

His hand slid over her panties, hungrily seeking the heart of her. Her breath caught as his fingers breached her dampness and flicked over her sensitive flesh.

She jerked and squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

‘Open your eyes, amante,’ he commanded. He wanted...no, needed to see her, to assure himself that she was sliding into insanity just as quickly as he was. When she refused to comply, he applied more pressure. ‘Do it or I’ll stop.’

Eyes full of arousal slowly opened. His breath fractured at the electrifying connection. His whole body tightened to breaking point and he mentally shook his head.

What the hell was happening here?

Her delicate shudder slowed his flailing thoughts. Absorbing her reaction, he inserted one finger inside her, drinking in her hitched cry as she shuddered again.

‘Dio, you’re so tight.’ He waited until she’d adjusted, then pressed in another finger.

Narciso was unprepared for her wince.

Instantly alert, he asked, ‘What’s wrong?’

She shook her head but he could see the trepidation in her eyes.

Those now familiar alarm bells shrieked. ‘Answer me, Ruby.’

Nervously, she licked her lips. ‘I’m...a virgin.’

Shock doused him in ice. For several seconds he couldn’t move. Then the realisation of how close he’d come to taking her, to staking a claim on what he had no right to, hit him like a ton of bricks.


He surged back from her, reefing a hand through his hair as he inhaled sharply.

‘You’re a virgin,’ he repeated numbly.

Raising her chin, she stared back at him. ‘Yes.’

Several puzzle pieces finally slotted into place—the touches of innocence he’d spotted, her bolshiness even as she seemed out of her depth.

Her trepidation.

What had he said a moment ago—they deserved each other? Not any more.

Regret bit deep as he forced himself off the bed. ‘Then, cara mia, this is over.’

* * *

Ruby came out of the bathroom of her cabin and slowed to a stop. Glancing around her room, she tried again to grapple with the sheer opulence around her. The three-decked yacht, complete with helicopter landing pad, had made her jaw drop the first time she’d seen it two days ago.

But the inside of Narciso’s yacht was even more luxurious.

Black with a silver trim on the outside, it was an exact reverse on the inside. Silver and platinum vied with Carrara marble mined from the exclusive quarries north of Tuscany.

Her suite, complete with queen-size bed, sunken Jacuzzi bath and expensive toiletries, was the last word in luxury.

But all the opulence couldn’t stem the curious emptiness inside her.

Since her arrival in Belize, she’d barely seen Narciso. The only times she saw him was when she served the list of meals he’d approved the day they’d boarded The Warlock.

At first the studied consideration with which he’d treated her after she’d blurted her confession had surprised her. Who knew he was the sort of playboy who treated virgins as if they were sacred treasures?

But then she’d seen the look in his eyes. The regret. The banked pain. Her surprise had morphed into confusion.

She was still confused now as she tugged off her towel and headed for the drawer that held her meagre clothes. Only to stop dead at the sight of the monogrammed leather suitcase standing at the bottom of the bed.

She opened it. Silk sarongs, bikinis, sundresses, designer shoes and slippers fell out of the case as she dug through it, her stomach hollowing out with incredulity.

Dressing in the jeans and top she’d travelled to Macau in and taken to wearing since her arrival simply because the three evening gowns were totally out of the question, she went in search of the elusive Sicilian who seemed hell-bent on keeping her permanently off balance.

She found him on the middle deck, after getting lost twice. He wore white linen shorts and a dark blue polo shirt. The early evening sun slanted over jet-black hair, highlighting its vibrancy and making her recall how it had felt to run her hands through the strands.

The sight of his bare legs made her swallow before she reminded herself she wasn’t going to be affected by his stunning physique any longer. He’d pointedly avoided her for two whole days. She was damned if she’d let him catch her drinking him in as if he were her last hope for sustenance.

She was here to do a job. Whatever closeness they’d shared on his plane was gone, a temporary aberration never to be repeated. Her focus now needed to be on what she’d come here to do. But before that...

‘You bought me clothes?’ she asked.

He turned around, casually shoving his hands into his pockets. When his eyes met hers, she couldn’t read a single expression in the silver depths. The Narciso who’d alternately laughed, mocked and devoured her with his eyes was gone. In his place was a coolly remote stranger.

‘The size of your suitcase suggested you’d packed for a short stay. This is a solution to a potential problem. Unless you plan on wearing those jeans every day for the next week?’

True, in the strong Belizean sun, they felt hot and sticky on her skin. Not to mention they were totally inappropriate for the job she was here to do. When she cooked, she preferred looser, comfortable clothes.

But still. ‘I could’ve sorted my own wardrobe.’

‘You’re here on my schedule. Making time for you to go shopping doesn’t feature on there.’

‘I wouldn’t have—’

‘It was no big deal, Ruby. Let’s move on. It’s time to step up your game. I want to see how you fare with a three-course meal. Michel will assist you if you need it.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I’d like to eat at seven, which gives you two hours.’

The arrogant dismissal made her hackles rise. The distance between them made her feel on edge, bereft.

She assured herself it was better this way. But deep down, an ache took root.

Michel, Narciso’s chef, greeted her with an openly friendly smile when she entered the kitchen.

‘What do you have in mind for today for monsieur?’ the Frenchman asked. Deep blue eyes remained contemplative as he stared at her.

‘He wants to eat at seven so I was thinking of making a special bruschetta to start and chicken parmigiana main if we have the ingredients?’

‘Of course. I bought fresh supplies this morning from town.’

The mention of town made her wonder when Narciso had bought her clothes. Had he shopped for them himself or given instructions?

Shaking her head to dispel the useless wondering, she followed Michel into the pantry. ‘Oh...heaven!’ She fell on the plump tomatoes and aubergines and squealed when she saw the large heads of truffles carefully packed in a box.

Freshly sliced prosciutto hung from specially lined containers that kept it from drying out and Parma ham stayed cool in a nearby chiller.

Michel took out the deboned chicken breast in the fridge. ‘Would you like me to cut it up for you?’

‘Normally, I’d say yes, but I think it’s best if I do everything myself.’ She smiled to take the sting out of the refusal.

He shrugged. ‘Shout if you need anything.’ After helping himself to a bottle of water, he left her alone.

Ruby selected the best knife and began chopping garlic, onions and the fresh herbs Michel kept in the special potted containers in the pantry.

The sense of calm and pure joy in bringing the ingredients together finally soothed the unsettled feeling she’d experienced for the last forty-eight hours.

Time and anxiety suspended, and her thoughts floated away as she immersed herself in her one salvation—the joy of cooking.

She started on the caviar-topped bruschetta with ricotta and peppers while the parmigiana was in the last stages of cooking.

Setting it out on a sterling-silver tray, she headed upstairs to where the crew had set the table.

Her feet slowed when she saw the extra place setting, then she stopped completely at the intimacy created by the dim lighting and lit candles. Her stomach fluttered wildly as steel butterflies took flight inside her.

‘Are you going to stand there all evening?’ Narciso quipped from where he sat on a sofa that hugged the U-shape of the room.

‘I...thought I was cooking for just you.’

‘You thought wrong.’ He stood, came over and pulled out her chair. ‘Tonight we eat together.’ His gaze took in her jeans. ‘Right after you change.’

‘I don’t need to change.’

‘One rule of business is to learn to let the little things slide. Standing on principle and antagonising your potential business partner doesn’t make for a very good impression.’

‘I really appreciate you helping me out but—’

‘I would personally prefer not to eat with a dinner companion wearing clothes smeared with food.’

Ruby glanced down and, sure enough, a large oily streak had soiled her vest top.

He’d gone to the trouble of providing new clothes for her comfort. Would it hurt to show some appreciation? In a few days, she’d be back in New York, hopefully with a contract firmly in her pocket. He’d made it clear she was no longer attractive to him in the sexual sense, so she had nothing to fear there.


‘I’ll go and change,’ she murmured around the disquiet spreading through her.

‘Grazie,’ he replied.

Returning to her suite, she quickly undressed and selected a soft peach, knee-length sundress with capped sleeves. Slipping her feet into three-inch wedged sandals, she tied her hair back and returned to the deck.

His gaze slid over her but his face remained neutral as he pulled out her chair.

‘Sit, and tell me what you’ve made for us.’

The intimate us made her hand tremble. Taking a deep breath, she described the first course. He picked up a piece of bruschetta, slid it into his mouth and chewed.

The process of watching him eat something she’d made with her two hands was so strangely unsettling and erotic her fingers clenched on her napkin.

‘Hmm, good enough.’ He picked up another piece and popped it in his mouth.

When she found herself staring at his strong jaw and throat, she averted her gaze, picked up a piece and nibbled on the edge. ‘Damned with faint praise.’

‘The cracked pepper adds a zing. I like it.’

Heady pleasure flowed through her. ‘Really?’

‘I always mean what I say, Ruby.’ His grave tone told her they weren’t talking about just food.

‘O...okay,’ she answered. ‘I have to check on the parmigiana in ten minutes.’

‘That’s more than enough time for a drink.’

Abandoning her half-eaten bruschetta, Ruby headed for the extensive bar, only to stop dead.

‘We’re no longer moored?’ The bright lights of the marina had disappeared, leaving only the stunning dark orange of the setting sun as their backdrop.

‘No, we’re sailing along the coast. Tomorrow morning, I intend to dive the Blue Hole. Do you dive?’ he asked.

She continued to the bar, her nerves jumpier than they had been a minute ago. ‘I did, a long time ago.’

‘Good. You’ll join me.’

‘Is that a request or a demand?’

He’d ignored her for the past two days. The idea that he now wanted to spend time with her jangled her fraying nerves. As she recalled what had happened on the plane heat and confusion spiked anew through her.

‘It’s a very civilised request.’

And yet...

Regardless of what Narciso was requesting, the last thing she needed to be doing was anticipating spending any time in his company. He made her lose control. She only had to look into his eyes to feel herself skating close to emotional meltdown.

The last thing she’d wanted when she met Narciso was to give in to the attraction she’d felt for him. But perversely, now he’d made it clear he intended to give her a wide berth, her mind kept conjuring up scenarios of how things could be between them.

She’d been wrong to compare Narciso to Simon, or even to her father. Despite the playboy exterior, she’d glimpsed a core of integrity in her potential new business partner that was markedly absent from the men she’d so far encountered.

Potential new business partner...

Therein lay her next problem. Whether active or passive, if she passed his test, Narciso would own a share in her business. They’d have a business relationship.

Which meant, nothing could be allowed to develop between them personally.

She worked almost absent-mindedly and only realised the drink she’d made after she opened the cocktail shaker. Aghast, she stared into the bold red drink.

‘Are you going to serve...what is that anyway?’

Flames surged up her cheeks. ‘Allow me to present the Afrodisiaco.’

One brow cocked; a touch of the irreverence she’d become used to darted over his features. ‘Is there a message in there somewhere?’

That she’d produced one of the most suggestive cocktails on her list made her pulse jump as she poured it. ‘It’s just a name.’

He immediately shook his head. ‘I’ve learned that nothing is ever what its face value suggests.’ He sipped the cocktail, swirled it around in his mouth. ‘Although now I’ve tasted this, I’m willing to alter that view.’

‘Narciso...’ The moment she uttered his name he froze. Another crack forked through the severely compromised foundation of her resistance as she watched his eyes darken.

‘No, Ruby mio, you don’t get to say my name for the first time like that.’

She paused. ‘I’m sorry, but you need to explain to me what the last two days have been about.’

‘Basta...’ His voice held stark warning.

‘Non abbastanza! I didn’t ask you to seduce me on your plane. In fact, I made it very clear I wanted to be left alone because I knew— I wasn’t... Look, whatever experiences you’ve had in the past are your own. But you told me you didn’t like women who blew hot and cold. Well, guess what, that’s exactly what you’re doing!’

‘Are you quite finished?’ he grated out, his face a mask of taut control.

She gripped the counter until her knuckles whitened and she stared down at her dress. ‘As a matter of fact, I’m not. Thank you for buying the clothes. If I appeared unappreciative before it was because I’ve learnt that nothing comes for free.’

‘You’re welcome,’ he replied coolly. ‘Now am I allowed to respond to that diatribe?’

‘No. I have to check on the chicken parmagiana. The last thing I want to do is jeopardise my chances by serving you burnt food.’ She rounded the bar and walked past him.

He grasped her wrist, easily imprisoning her.

Instantly, heat and electricity flooded through her. ‘Let me go!’

‘I haven’t been blowing hot and cold.’

‘You’ve certainly made avoiding me an art form.’

‘I was trying to save us both from making a mistake, tesoro.’

The realisation that she didn’t want that choice made for her sent a bolt of shock through her. Sheer self-preservation made her raise her chin. ‘Well, you needn’t have bothered. In fact you did me a favour back on your plane.’

His hand tightened. ‘Really?’

‘Yes. You reminded me that you’re not my type.’

His nostrils flared. ‘And how would you know what your type is considering your lack of experience?’

‘I don’t need experience to know playboys turn me off.’

His mouth flattened. ‘You didn’t seem turned off when you climaxed on top of me, then proceeded to writhe beneath me.’

The reminder made her pulse skitter. The hungry demand that hadn’t abated since then made her pull harder. He set her free and she retreated fast. ‘Maybe I wanted to see what the fuss was all about. Whatever. You helped me refocus on the reason I’m here on your boat. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to check on the main course.’

* * *

Narciso watched her go, furious that he’d allowed himself to be drawn into her orbit again.

The way he’d operated the last two days had been the best course.

So what if he’d climbed metaphoric walls while locked in his study? He’d sealed two deals and added to his billions, and he’d even managed to stop thinking about Ruby Trevelli for longer than five minutes.

But then his investigator had presented him with another opportunity to finish off Giacomo. And once again, Narciso had walked away, unable to halt the chain reaction inside that seemed to be scraping raw emotions he’d long ago suppressed; unable to stop his world hurtling towards a place he didn’t recognise.

That his first thought had been to seek out Ruby and share his confusion had propelled him in the opposite direction.


His reaction to her continued to baffle him. In the last two days, he’d expended serious brainpower talking himself out of tracking down the woman who kissed like a seductress but whose innocence his conscience battled with him against tainting.

Dio, when the hell had he even grown a conscience?

With a growl, he grabbed the last of the canapés and munched on it. Delicate flavours exploded on his tongue.

The past two days had shown him how talented Ruby was in the kitchen and behind the bar. Her skill was faultless and she’d risen to his every challenge. In that time, while he’d locked himself in his study to resist temptation, he’d also reviewed the TV show footage and seen why she’d won the contest.

Her skittishness every time the camera had focused on her had also been made apparent.

She hated being under the spotlight. And yet she’d forced herself to do it, just so she could take control of her life.

His admiration for her had grown as he’d watched the footage even as he’d cursed at the knowledge that she was burrowing deeper under his skin.

He looked up as she entered, a silver-topped casserole dish in her hand. The flourish and expertise with which she set the dish down spoke of her pride in her work. He waited until she served them both before he took the first bite.

His hand tightened around his fork. ‘Did you cook this for Simon?’

She visibly deflated. ‘You don’t like it.’

He didn’t just like it. He loved it. So much so he was suddenly jealous of her sharing it with anyone else. ‘I didn’t say that. Did you cook it for him?’

Slowly, she shook her head.

Relief poured through him. ‘Good.’

‘So, you like it?’ she asked again.

‘Sì, very much,’ he responded, his voice gruff.

The pleasure that lit up her face made his heart squeeze. He wanted to keep staring at her, bathe in her delight.

Dio, he was losing it.

He reached for the bottle to pour her a glass of chilled Chablis.

‘No, thanks,’ she said.

His hand tightened around the bottle. ‘You have nothing to fear by drinking around me, Ruby.’

She raised her head and he saw a mixture of anguish and sadness displayed in her eyes. In that moment, Narciso wanted to hunt down the parents who’d done this to her and deliver unforgettable punishment.

‘I know, but I’d like to keep a clear head, all the same.’

He set the wine aside and reached for the mineral water. ‘Well, getting blind drunk on my own is no fun, so I guess we’re teetotalling.’

She rolled her eyes and smiled, and his gut clenched hard.

‘We haven’t discussed wines yet. When we’re done meet me at the upper deck. And wear a swimsuit. The sun may have gone down but you’ll still boil out there in that dress.’

The tension in his body eased when she nodded.

After dinner, he made his way up to the deck. They could do this... They could have a conversation despite the spiked awareness of each other. Or the hunger that burned relentlessly through him—

Five minutes later, she mounted the stairs to the deck and his thoughts scattered.

Madre di Dio!

The body he could see beneath the sarong was spectacular. But he couldn’t see enough of it. And he wanted to, despite the off limits signs he’d mentally slapped on her.

Seeing doesn’t mean touching.

‘Drop the sarong. You don’t need it here.’

She fidgeted with the knot and his temperature rose higher. It loosened as she walked over to the lounger. She finally dropped it, sat down, and crossed her legs. Minutes ticked by. She recrossed her legs.

‘Stop fidgeting.’

She blew out a sigh. ‘I can’t stand the tension.’

‘Well, running away won’t make it go away.’

‘I wasn’t planning to run,’ she replied. ‘You wanted to talk about wines, remember?’

He nodded, although he’d lost interest in that subject. Forcing himself to look away from the temptation of the small waist that flared into very feminine hips and long, shapely legs, he stared at the moon rising over the water.

‘Or I could easily return to my cabin and we can continue to treat each other like strangers.’

He considered the idea for exactly two seconds before he tossed it.

‘What the hell, Ruby mio, let’s give civility a try.’

She exhaled, sat up and poured a glass of mineral water from the jug nearby. ‘Okay, first, I have to ask—what the heck is up with your name, anyway?’

He smiled despite the poker-sharp pain in his gut. ‘You don’t like it?’

‘It’s...different.’

‘It was Giacomo’s idea of a joke. But I’ve grown into it, don’t you think?’ Despite his joviality, the pain in his chest grew. Her eyes stayed on him and he saw when she noticed it. For some reason, revealing himself in that way didn’t disturb him as much as he’d thought it would. In fact, talking to her soothed him.

‘You’ve never wanted to change it?’

‘It’s just a name. I’m sure a few people will agree I can be narcissistic on occasion. I have no problems in pleasing number one.’

Her eyes gleamed with speculative interest. ‘It really doesn’t bother you, does it?’

‘It may have, once upon a time,’ he confessed. ‘But not any more.’

Sympathy filled her eyes. ‘I’m sorry.’

He tried to speak but words locked in his throat. Two simple words. Powerful words that calmed his roiling emotions. ‘Grazie,’ he murmured.

His eyes caught and held hers. Something shifted, settled between them. An acknowledgement that neither of them were whole or without a history of buried hurt.

‘The email on the plane. What was that about?’ he asked abruptly.

She slowly inhaled. ‘Before I tell you, promise me it won’t affect the outcome of this test run.’ Her imploring look almost made him reply in the affirmative.

He hardened his resolve when he realised she was doing it again. Getting under his skin. Making a nonsense of his common sense.

‘Sorry, amante, I don’t make blind promises when it comes to business.’

Her lips firmed. ‘Simon sold his share of the business to a guy who doesn’t see eye to eye with my business plan.’ In low tones, she elaborated.

He jerked upright. ‘You’re being threatened by a loan shark?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you didn’t think to inform me?’ he demanded.

‘Would you have believed me? Especially in light of how I approached you?’

‘Perhaps not right then, but...’ The idea that he was prepared to give her the benefit of the doubt gave him a moment’s pause. ‘What’s his name?’

‘I don’t know—he refused to tell me. All he wants is his money.’

‘So I own twenty-five per cent of your business and a loan shark whose name you don’t know another twenty-five per cent?’

‘Yes.’

He slowly relaxed on his lounger and stared at her. ‘You do realise that our agreement is transforming into substantially more than a talent-contest-prize delivery, don’t you?’

A flush warmed her skin. ‘I’m not sure I know what you mean.’

‘What I mean, Ruby mio, is that in order to realise my twenty-five-per-cent investment, it seems I have to offer my business expertise. Writing you a cheque after next week and walking away is looking less and less likely.’

Why that thought pleased him so much, Narciso refused to examine.