‘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