Shackled by Diamonds Page 15

  Something looked different in Leo’s face.

  ‘Lonely?’ he supplied.

  Her expression changed.

  ‘Yes,’ she admitted.

  ‘So was I,’ he said. He saw her disbelief and went on. ‘Oh, there was a houseful of servants—several housefuls!—but my parents didn’t bother with me. My father was a workaholic and my mother a society queen. I only became interesting to them when I was old enough to be put to work in an office or tout around socially to catch the interest of young women with commercially and politically influential fathers.’

  There was a cynical note in his voice that Anna would have had to be deaf not to hear. But her ear heard something else as well. Something she would never in a million years have associated with someone as sublimely pleased with themselves as Leo Makarios.

  It was sadness.

  Something moved in her. She did not know what, but it disturbed her.

  Made her want to reach across the table.

  Take his hand.

  Almost, almost, she felt her hand move. Then, with an effort of will, she halted it. Leo Makarios was nothing to her. Nothing except a man tormenting her, night after night, with the hopeless, helpless, shameful desires of her own body.

  And yet—

  The waitress reappeared, with graceful motion, carrying two tall glasses full of crushed ice and a blend of orange and scarlet juice. Anna was grateful for the diversion—and the quenching drink after so much salty water.

  She sipped thirstily through the straw as Leo did likewise.

  Then she sat back, lifting her damp, drying hair from her neck.

  ‘It’s still so hot!’ she exclaimed, arching her throat.

  Leo’s eyes were riveted to her. He could not help it. The gesture she was making was so unconsciously sensual—her slender arms lifted, her swelling breasts thrust upwards by the movement, her long, loose tousled hair, the languorous tilt of her throat—that his breath caught in his body.

  Thee mou, but she is beauty incarnate…

  A wave of emotion went through him. It was desire. He knew it must be.

  But it was more—what he could not say, could not name. But it was strong, and powerful.

  And very, very disturbing.

  Abruptly, he pushed his empty glass away from him and got to his feet.

  ‘Time to go,’ he said.

  ‘Damn, I’ve caught the sun!’

  Anna examined the skin on her forearm.

  Leo glanced away from the road for a moment as they drove away from the beach.

  ‘You haven’t burnt, don’t worry. A light tan will only flatter you.’

  She made a face.

  ‘One of my selling points is my pale skin. I try never to tan—even on a tropical shoot. Oh, well.’ She shrugged. ‘Too late now.’

  It was, too, but somehow she couldn’t bring herself to care much about losing her ivory skin tones. After everything else that was happening to her, it seemed very trivial. She brushed off the sheen of salt crystallising on her skin. ‘I need a shower,’ she said.

  Leo kept his eye on the pitted road. Nobly, he forbore to suggest that she take one with him. He even tried extremely hard—and failed—to stop his imagination supplying the details. Imagination, he found, was quite enough to make his body react in hopeful anticipation. Uncomfortably, he shifted in the driving seat. He kept his gaze doggedly ahead. Hell, he must have been insane to make the deal he had at lunchtime—letting Anna have a night on her own.

  His eyes narrowed.

  And yet—and yet it was extraordinarily pleasant to have their armistice. Have Anna lose her dogged, resentful hostility towards him even for this short interlude.

  But why should it just be for an interlude? Why not for as long as we are here?

  The thought came unbidden, and took hold.

  The afternoon had been good. They had passed it in inconsequential conversation, with him talking about the island, her asking the kind of questions any visitor would ask. And as for that spontaneous surfing session, it had been—

  Fun, that was what it had been. The word was the only one that fitted.

  A sense of astonishment filled him. Of all the experiences he might have imagined with Anna Delane, having fun—boisterous, seaside fun—was the very last he would ever have thought of.

  But fun it had been. Simple, uncomplicated, almost childlike fun…

  He eased back in his driving seat. Well-being suffused through him. At his side, Anna’s silence no longer seemed aggressive and adversarial—just…peaceful.

  He went on driving, heading west into the lowering sun.

  Anna was drying her freshly washed hair when Leo knocked on her bedroom door and walked in. For a brief moment his eyes flickered over her in a way she was hotly familiar with. She felt a flush of heat go through her body but crushed it back. This was her night off. She’d earned it. Earned it being ‘civil’ to Leo Makarios all afternoon. Doing that definitely deserved a reward!

  Except—her memory skidded back along the previous hours—it had not exactly proved an ordeal. The afternoon, she could not help but admit with her habitual honesty, had been—OK.

  More than OK. In fact, it had been—

  She bit her lip, unwilling to let her mind supply the word it wanted to.

  Good. It had been good.

  Enjoyable. Relaxing. Fun. Nice. Easy.

  The words ran on, disturbing her even more than the way Leo’s eyes were flickering over her towel-wrapped body.

  ‘Yes?’ she prompted.

  ‘We’ve been invited out to dinner tonight,’ Leo said. ‘By one of the government ministers responsible for inward investment. Wear something relaxed, but chic. Do you have anything suitable?’

  ‘I dare say I can manage,’ said Anna dryly.

  That she had succeeded was evident from the expression in Leo’s eyes when she went downstairs an hour or so later. The red silk skirt and top were vivid, yet the loose cut on her tall, slender body gave her a languorous elegance that matched the semi-pinned knot of her long, tendrilled hair. Her matching sandals were low-heeled, and her jewellery was a gold torque and matching bracelets. Her make up was subtle.

  ‘You look fantastic,’ breathed Leo.

  She gave him a polite, social smile, but it flickered uncertainly on her face.

  Although she had been apprehensive about the evening, it proved easy enough. While the minister talked tax and finance to Leo, his wife engaged Anna in conversation. With the poise she had acquired in her years since leaving home, Anna chatted pleasantly to her hostess.

  By the time his chauffeur-driven car was whisking them homeward, Leo was in a very good mood. The minister had been encouraging about his property development plans, and as for Anna, she had clearly charmed her hosts with her natural, unaffected manner. A memory came back to him, of Anna conversing with Hans Federman at Schloss Edelstein—obviously not in the least bothered that he was dull and middle-aged. His house staff liked her too, he could tell—but then she had an easy air with everyone, he realised.

  Even, tonight, with him.

  She was asking him now about his villa development in the south.

  ‘It’s a complex of villas and low-rise condominiums on one of the undeveloped promontories,’ he answered. ‘The government are concerned that the site will not be over-exploited. Water, too, is an issue on the island, which has no large rivers, so the villas have to be designed with water conservation in mind.’

  Anna let him run on. He was clearly enthusiastic about the project, and knowledgeable too. Every now and then she asked prompting questions.

  ‘I’ll take you down tomorrow and show you,’ he finished, as the car finally wheeled through the gates of his villa.

  ‘OK,’ she answered easily.

  She went back into the cool of the villa. Memory slipped back to her—the first night she’d got here, tired and jet-lagged, with a hard, tight knot inside her stomach at the reason she was there.

  It se
emed, she realised as she walked indoors, a long time ago.

  Much longer than the number of days she’d been here.

  At her side, Leo caught up, even with his limping gait.

  ‘How’s the ankle?’ she heard herself ask.

  Leo grimaced. ‘A damn nuisance—but it has its compensations.’ He glanced down at her. ‘Like you asking about it,’ he murmured.

  She gave a half-dismissive, half-embarrassed shrug at having been caught out expressing solicitude.

  ‘Coffee?’ he asked.

  Anna nodded. ‘Thank you, that would be nice.’

  They walked out onto the terrace and Anna took her place on the lounger beside the coffee table, looking out over the softly lit pool. In her veins she felt the wine of the evening making her feel relaxed and sleepy. On the other lounger, Leo was resting his bad ankle.

  ‘How did you do it?’ Anna heard herself asking as she helped herself to coffee. Without thinking, she poured out a cup for Leo as well, and handed it to him.

  ‘I fell off my windsurf board, like a complete novice,’ he answered in self-disgust, taking the cup from her.

  She gave a wry smile. ‘I don’t know how anyone stays on those things anyway,’ she commented.

  Leo took a mouthful of hot coffee and twisted his head towards her.

  ‘If you can ride a bike you can windsurf. It’s not that hard. I’ll teach you.’

  Anna felt her fingers clench around the cup handle.

  ‘I think I’ll pass. My insurance policy doesn’t allow me to do dangerous sports.’ She kept her voice deliberately light, as though the prospect of being taught windsurfing by the man keeping her in his bed by blackmail was nothing much.

  ‘You are insured?’ Leo’s voice sounded surprised.

  ‘Against loss of earnings from injury. It seemed a prudent thing to do.’

  ‘Prudent?’ echoed Leo. Prudent? A woman who thought nothing of stealing a ruby bracelet wasn’t someone he’d call prudent. A frown creased his brow. Today had shown him a new side to Anna Delane—as if she were just a normal person, instead of a criminal.

  His eyes went to her as she looked out over the beach. The evening had been so good, the day so good, and he knew exactly how he wanted it to end. Anna looked so fantastic, long-limbed, beautiful, with the grace that took his breath away every time.

  Emotion rose in him. It was desire, he knew it was—intense and piercing, making him want to get to his feet, sweep her up into his arms and find the nearest bedroom. It was a familiar feeling, one that came over him every night.

  But there was something unfamiliar mingled in with desire. He searched for a moment, then gave up. It wasn’t anger, that was for sure, or exasperation, or annoyance, or any of the other frustrations that Anna Delane’s cussedness towards him always aroused. But what it was he had no idea. And because he couldn’t identify it, he put it aside. Right now he wasn’t interested. Right now there was only one thing he was interested in.

  He took another mouthful of coffee, then put the cup down.

  ‘Have you finished your coffee?’ he asked. His voice had a husk in it.

  Anna’s head swivelled round to him. Leo reached out his hand and smoothed it along her bare arm. Her skin was warm to the touch, as soft as the silk of her dress. His blood quickened at the touch; his eyelashes swept down over his darkening eyes. In his veins desire creamed, rich with anticipation.

  She was just so beautiful, so desirable…

  But even as his eyes rested on her, appreciating her delectable body, Anna’s expression was changing. Freezing.

  He could feel her—see her—pulling away mentally and physically.

  ‘You said,’ she enunciated, ‘I could have the night off.’

  It was like a slap with a wet towel. His hand drew back instantly.

  And in the same instant the old, familiar flare of sheer exasperated anger shot through him.

  He gave a short, heavy sigh.

  ‘Don’t tell me—it’s in your contract,’ he said grimly.

  ‘It was a verbal contract,’ she answered.

  Leo’s eyes flashed. ‘You missed your vocation—you should have been a lawyer. Instead of a thief,’ he reminded her nastily.

  Her face tightened. ‘You said I could have the night off,’ she repeated doggedly.

  Angrily, Leo reached for his coffee again.

  ‘Do what you want,’ he said moodily, and took another mouthful. He wished it were brandy, so he could drink himself into oblivion. His body didn’t seem to want to be accepting of Anna’s rejection of him. He shifted restlessly.

  ‘Try a cold shower,’ he heard her say coolly.

  He flashed a killing look at her.

  Then went back to staring moodily into the night.

  Damn Anna Delane. And damn himself for wanting her so much.

  He thrust his cup aside again, and got to his feet. This was hopeless—he couldn’t sit there with her beside him, rejecting him.

  ‘I’ll see you at breakfast,’ he announced bleakly, and limped inside.

  Out on the terrace, Anna sat still. It was her turn to stare moodily into the sub-tropical darkness.

  Her turn to damn both herself and him. And, worst of all, to damn the desire he had quickened in her, which she was forcing down now with every ounce of her will-power lest it overpower her and send her running hungrily, desperately, after him.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE project manager at Leo Makarios’s development complex was telling her about the different kinds of hardwood used in construction of the villas, but Anna was hardly paying attention. She was far too conscious of Leo’s presence beside her—much too aware of his edgy mood—and of her own.

  Instead of luxuriating in an undisturbed night in her own bed she had slept badly, restless and interrupted. Now she felt heavy-eyed and bleary, but running with a tense energy.

  Her mood was bleak. A truth was pressing at her that she didn’t want to accept—mustn’t accept. Her eyes slid past the half-constructed villas out over the endless seas beyond, and a hollow misery filled her. Oh, God, how had it come to this? Tossing and turning all night, staring blindly up at the ceiling, unable to find any peace, any repose—all for the sake of Leo Makarios?

  Her eyes hardened beneath the concealing veil of her dark glasses. She had to fight this—she had to. It was nothing but a sick weakness—a stupid, unforgivable, temporary insanity. Nothing else. And she would overcome it! She had to—she just had to…

  At her side the project manager had turned his attention to his employer, drawing his notice to something on the sheaf of architectural drawings in his hand. With half an ear Anna heard Leo’s deep voice answering brusquely, his voice edged like a serrated knife.

  When they left the site she was relieved, and yet it was even worse being incarcerated in the car alone with Leo. He did not speak to her, nor she to him, yet the silent tension between them pulled at her, making her muscles tense in mental resistance. Her hands pressed into each other in her lap. Her throat felt constricted.

  He drove for a good half an hour, over twisting coastal roads, until he turned into a private drive that led down to the sea—a low-rise beach hotel his destination.

  ‘Lunch,’ he announced tersely, and got out of the car. Silently Anna followed suit, and went into the hotel with him.

  She disliked it immediately. It was clearly a boutique hotel, aimed at a clientele bored with mundane tourism and demanding a novelty of design that Anna castigated as pretentious. So was the menu.

  ‘A vegetarian salad, please,’ she ordered. ‘No dressing.’

  ‘I thought you were starting to eat normally?’ said Leo edgily.

  Anna shrugged. ‘The prices are ludicrous and the menu idiotic.’

  Leo’s eyes narrowed. ‘This is rated as one of the best hotels in the Caribbean.’

  Anna stared at him. ‘The décor is pretentious, the staff snooty, and the guests are all posers. That place yesterday was a million times bette
r.’

  ‘Well, we’re here now,’ Leo returned, and moodily studied the wine list.

  ‘Just mineral water for me—sparkling,’ said Anna.

  ‘I’m glad something is,’ he retorted.

  They ate in virtual silence, Leo grim-faced and Anna tense. Had they really been having an almost normal conversation just twenty-four hours ago? she wondered disbelievingly. Now she could hardly say two words to him. Not that he seemed in the mood for conversation. She was grateful. All she wanted now was to get out of here, back to the villa, and lock herself in her bedroom. Or anywhere. She felt jittery, restless. Looking anywhere but at Leo.

  And yet somewhere deep inside her it was as if an electric charge were building, dangerously overloading her nerves. Her muscles were tense, her skin prickling. Her body seemed alive, but in an alien, uncontrolled way, as if it wanted something—something that she must not, would not think about. Her fingers tightened around her fork, she held her neck rigid, so she could not let herself look across at the man sitting opposite her. A man who seemed as restless, as on edge, as she was.

  Her teeth clenched. She would not look across at him. She would not.

  Doggedly she went on eating, though the food tasted like sawdust for all its exorbitant price.

  Inside her, coiling tighter and tighter, the electric charge went on building. Silently.

  Dangerously.

  The meal crawled to its interminable end. Leo seemed determined to drag it out, ordering a dessert and then coffee, when all she wanted to do was jerk to her feet and get out—out of here, away from him.

  The tension radiating from him was palpable.

  Finally, when she thought she must just scrape her chair back and rush off, he pushed aside his empty coffee cup.

  ‘Anna—’

  His voice was edged, serrated. It had been like that all morning. But now it was worse.

  Her jaw tightened. She said nothing.

  ‘Look at me.’

  What was it in his voice that made her do it? Let her eyes off the leash she had been pinning them down with. Let them lift and meet the dark, heavy-lidded eyes fastening on her.