Holiday With The Mystery Italian. Ellie Darkins

play that game. Good. He decided to get them back on more neutral ground. ‘All ready for your day as a reality TV star?’

      She groaned, and he laughed at the look of horror on her face.

      ‘I’m not sure I’m ever going to be ready,’ she admitted. Her face had relaxed, and he could tell that she was relieved he hadn’t called her out on what had just happened between them. Well, she didn’t have to worry on that front. Ego had made him hold her eye just then, but that didn’t mean that he had any intention of actually exploring that spark further.

      ‘So why sign up in the first place?’ he asked. She looked as if she had been regretting her decision ever since, after all.

      ‘Sign up? I’m not sure that’s how I’d describe it. It was more like...railroaded, or threatened. Definitely something that doesn’t count as volunteering. And it’s for charity. How could I say no? It’s not like I ever thought...never mind.’

      Oh, he knew exactly what she’d never thought, whether she was going to finish that sentence or not. She’d never thought she’d be here, never thought that she would be the one chosen. Well, in fairness she hadn’t been. The TV company had had it all worked out—of course he’d been meant to pick contestant number two—but then with the cameras rolling and a live audience—what could they do when he picked the wrong woman? His agent had given him an earful, of course, but it had been worth it.

      And what were a few booked flights and cancelled reservations when you had earned a fortune and were willing to use it to get what you wanted?

      ‘Sorry I spoilt your masterplan. What can I say? I like a challenge.’

      He instantly regretted his words, because he absolutely didn’t want her getting the wrong idea. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t seduce her in a heartbeat if he had thought that she might be up for a fling. But it couldn’t be more clear that a simple dalliance wasn’t on the cards with her. There was too much hurt behind those eyes, too many defences built around her. The ghost of romance past haunting her expression.

      And as much as he wanted to back away slowly, keep his distance from the big scary emotions that were clearly behind that controlled front, there was something in there calling out to him. Some vulnerability that made him want to protect her. To find out if there was anything that he could do to help.

      He didn’t want to think too much about why.

      Perhaps, if nothing else, he could give her an ego boost. She clearly needed one. He could see it in her dropped eyes, the way she pulled her shoulders in to protect herself. Someone had given this beautiful woman cause to doubt that she looked like an absolute goddess. And as he couldn’t give the person who had done that to her the hiding he no doubt deserved, then maybe he could at least get her to see what he saw, without any danger of either of them wanting to be any more involved.

      ‘So you’re not dating anyone? There’s not some boyfriend hiding away somewhere while you raise money for the kiddies?’

      ‘No.’

      That wasn’t a ‘not right now’, or a ‘nobody special’. That was ‘never’, ‘definitely not’ and ‘not ever’ all rolled into one. He had been right: there was a world of back story behind that one word.

      His voice dropped to a gentle murmur. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

      What was he doing? Talking about a bad break-up ranked right up there with sticking needles in his eyes on his list of enjoyable activities. But there was something about this woman that he couldn’t ignore. He couldn’t brush her pain away and pretend that he hadn’t seen it. If spilling her heart over her breakfast was what she needed he had a horrible feeling that he was signing up for the whole messy performance.

      She took a long gulp of her coffee, and painted on something approximating a smile. ‘There’s nothing to tell, really. I broke up with someone a year and a half ago and have no intention of repeating my mistakes. I think maybe I’m just one of those people who are happier alone. Independent.’

      Perhaps. Or perhaps not. Because as she spoke he could see the lurking shadows of grief and disappointment in her expression. The memory of someone who had let her down. Had left her feeling...less than she was.

      ‘Or maybe you just need to—’

      ‘Get back on the horse? Because there are plenty more fish in the sea? And someone better is just around the corner? Sorry but I’ve heard the clichés all before. Perhaps some people are just better suited to not...riding. Sorry, I’m better at the metaphors when I’ve had more coffee.’

      She laughed, but it sounded hollow, thin. He had been right when he’d assumed that a quick fling would never be on the cards.

      ‘I’m going to head out to the pool for a few laps before the cavalry turns up,’ he said, trying to get them onto safer ground. ‘Can I tempt you with a dip?’

      For a second he thought she was going to say no, but then a smile appeared on her lips, a real one this time. ‘Actually, that sounds good. I’ll go get changed and meet you out there.’

      The day was already warming up as he made his way out to the pool, unseasonably balmy for this time of year. He was going over his conversation with Amber again. He wanted to make her see how beautiful she was. After a decade of mutually satisfying but emotionless seductions and flings, this was new ground. He might have had a sensitive side once. It’d just been so long since he’d had any call to get in touch with it he wasn’t sure that it was even still there.

      He lowered himself into the pool and lay back in the water, letting it take his weight as he soaked up the warmth of the early autumn sun. His eyes drifted closed as he enjoyed the freedom to power himself around the pool, moving effortlessly in the water in a way his body didn’t allow him on land. He heard her before he saw her, the flip-flop, flip-flop of her sandals on the tiles at the water’s edge, the soft rustle of cotton as her towel hit the sunbed. Looking up, he saw the fluffy dressing gown she was wearing, and realised that he had been hoping for something else, something revealing, maybe. A better look at that body that she normally kept so well hidden beneath skimming silk.

      She dropped the robe only at the last minute, as she slipped into the water. He had the briefest glimpse of a utilitarian one-piece in black and white, with thick straps and a racer back. Most definitely built for speed rather than decoration. Disappointed as he was, he had to admit to feeling a little pleased at finding that they had something in common.