Despite his conceited demeanour, there was an edge to the words, indicating that perhaps he wasn’t as sanguine about it as he wanted to be.
The hair trigger that demanded she answer with another denial pushed words to the tip of her tongue. Maceo halted them with a simple slide of his forefinger over her lips.
‘We really should go inside. I’d hate to see this exquisite skin of yours suffer under this sun.’
As if on cue, a thick drop of sweat slid down her throat and over her clavicle.
His gaze zeroed in on it and Faye felt every inch of the bead’s slow trajectory in the rapt expression on his face. Hunger clamoured through her as his nostrils flared. The tip of his tongue glided over his inner bottom lip and Faye experienced it deep in her pelvis, in the hot and needy core of her womanhood.
Move.
She sucked in a desperate breath and dragged her gaze away, only to lose it when his hand slid down her arm to capture hers. Firmly he led her up wide stone steps, through grand oak double doors into a marble-floored foyer with a giant floral centrepiece that gave off sweet perfume through the airy space.
There they were met by a clutch of household staff, who introduced themselves and immediately offered refreshments.
With a cold glass of fruit punch in hand, Maceo shifted into host mode and offered to show her round.
From high-ceilinged rooms with plantation-style shutters that opened out onto exquisite terraces, to a twenty-foot-high pavilion just beyond the main house, fashioned for intimate dining, and a sparkling turquoise pool, every corner of the mansion was breathtaking.
Halfway through the tour Faye kicked off her platform heels, sighing when her feet touched cool stone paving. From a shaded patio, Maceo pointed out the majestic backdrop of the Pitons and the Caribbean Sea. And as her gaze rushed over all that beauty she spotted the sleek yacht moored a quarter of a mile away from the private beach.
It was multi-decked and sizeable, without being overly ostentatious. And yet it sent prickles of awareness skating over her skin. Every space she’d occupied with Maceo so far had offered a sense of freedom—albeit a false one, because Maceo could occupy her space and thoughts even when he was miles away. The yacht, however, seemed...intimate.
There was that word again. Creeping far too often and relentlessly into her thoughts.
‘Does the inside please you as much as the outside?’ Maceo asked when they returned indoors, with that low, deeply disturbing note still in his voice.
Feeling unsettled, she examined his expression for an insight as to the subtle changes in their skirmish. There was no mockery. But there was a quiet, intense emotion she was afraid to decipher.
‘It’s magnificent,’ she answered, simply and truthfully.
He nodded with satisfaction, then straightened from where he’d draped his streamlined body against a wall. ‘Bene. The housekeeper will show you to your room. If you need anything just let the staff know.’
Abruptly he turned away and started to walk off.
‘Where are you going?’ she blurted.
He paused, then shot her a droll look. ‘I’m attempting, perhaps for the first time since we met, to leave while we’re not at each other’s throats. I think the term is to quit while I’m ahead, si?’
Faye was shaking her head before he’d finished. ‘Surely we can find a way to coexist and be...?’ She stopped, because she couldn’t quite find a term that described what not being in conflict with Maceo looked like.
Pleasant? Peaceful? Affable?
Words far too tame for the high-octane friction that existed between them.
‘Without...?’ he pressed, one eyebrow quirked in amusement.
She threw exasperated hands in the air. ‘I don’t know. But I didn’t fly halfway across the world to be left twiddling my thumbs because you’re attempting to be...whatever version it is of yourself you’re being right now. At the very least can we call a truce on hostilities?’
That smile returned, played at his lips while he stared at her. ‘Very well. If that is what you truly wish. Take the remainder of the day. Relax. Work some of the jet lag out of your system. We’ll reconvene at some point tomorrow?’
A knot of tension eased inside her and she realised she’d been holding her breath. Because she’d needed that reassurance of when she’d see him again. Dear God...
‘Sure. Okay.’
With a far too cunning smile, Maceo walked away, leaving her feeling as if she’d walked into another of his silken traps.
The housekeeper arrived to escort her upstairs, relieving her from dwelling on her thoughts. Faye smiled as the older woman informed her with quiet but deep pride that they were in the much sought-after suburb of Soufrière. That she’d worked for the Fiorenti and Caprio families—in her dream job—for over twenty years.