She was dozing in bed late one morning exactly one week after they’d first arrived on the island when Sebastien strolled into the room, vibrant and masculine and just pulsing with his usual energy.
Alesia forced herself awake, wishing that she had even a fraction of his apparently limitless energy. ‘Sorry—’ she yawned, brushing her hair away from her face and rubbing her eyes ‘—couldn’t wake up this morning.’
‘That’s because of last night,’ he teased, the sensual flash of his dark eyes a heated reminder of the intimacies they’d shared.
As she held his gaze, Alesia felt her stomach roll over and wondered if she’d ever be able to look at him without experiencing that intense burst of sexual excitement deep inside her. He only had to walk into a room and her insides fell away. Especially now when he was wearing only a pair of swimming shorts. He maintained a punishing exercise regime and the results showed in every pulsing inch of his impressive physique. From the broad, muscular shoulders to his lean, flat stomach and long legs, he had the most amazing body she’d ever seen and she couldn’t look at him without wanting him to take her back to bed. It didn’t matter that he didn’t love her. It didn’t matter that he thought she was a gold-digger. She was just desperate for him.
She was a hopeless case.
‘I’ll get up in a minute,’ she promised, wishing that he’d suggest they spend yet another day in bed. It was the only place she wanted to be with him.
He surveyed her with amused eyes. ‘I’m feeling shamefully guilty that we’ve been here for an entire week and you haven’t swum in the pool once,’ he teased, scooping her up and carrying her on to the terrace. ‘I’ve kept you pinned to the bed and that isn’t exactly fair.’
Staring dreamily at his staggeringly handsome face, it took a moment for Alesia to realize what he had in mind.
And by then it was too late to stop him.
She experienced a second of heart-stopping panic and then he dropped her into the pool and darkness closed around her.
Guilt-ridden and seriously worried for the first time in his life, Sebastien paced backwards and forwards across the marble floor while the doctor he’d had flown in examined a white-faced Alesia.
It had been little consolation to him when she’d recovered consciousness because she’d proceeded to shiver so violently that no amount of blankets seemed to warm her. It was as if the chill came from the inside.
‘She’s suffering from shock,’ the doctor said calmly, finishing his examination and closing his bag. ‘Physically she’s fine. Swallowed a bit of water when she went under so she might be feeling a bit sick, but apart from that no lasting effects. Mentally it’s another matter. At a guess I’d say that she suffers from a phobia about water. Probably wasn’t such a good idea to drop her in the pool.’
Unaccustomed to being lectured or to being in the wrong, Sebastien gritted his teeth and took the criticism levelled at him with remarkable restraint.
Never in his life had he felt so utterly remorseful and if a sound telling off was what it took to make him feel better, then he was more than willing to take it on the chin.
He didn’t care.
All he cared about was the fact that Alesia still looked as pale as the marble on his floors and that her eyes were haunted. And he truly wished the shivering would stop.
Reluctant to leave her alone for more than a few minutes, he walked the doctor back to the waiting helicopter, a frown in his eyes. ‘You’re sure I shouldn’t fly her back to Athens tonight?’
‘My advice?’ The doctor handed his bag to the pilot and looked Sebastien straight in the eye. ‘She needs rest. I think you should keep her here tonight, give her time to get over the shock, then fly back tomorrow when she’s feeling better.’
Pausing on the threshold of his living room, Sebastien noted grimly that her skin exactly matched his white sofas and decided to take the matter of her recovery into his own hands.
He strode over to a tray of drinks and closed lean bronzed fingers around a curving bottle.
Moments later he slipped an arm under Alesia’s shoulders and scooped her up, making a mental note to instruct his chef to stuff her full of food on their return to Athens. She was far too fragile.
He lifted the glass to her dry lips. ‘Drink.’
Obediently she took a sip and then choked and pulled a face.
‘It’s disgusting.’
‘On the contrary, it’s an extremely expensive brandy,’ Sebastien informed her, his voice thick with strain as he lifted the glass to her lips again. ‘You are still suffering from shock. Please drink.’