She dragged her mind back from the confusing mists of her childhood and realised that Alessio was watching her intently. And she knew that even if nothing but pain was to follow, she would have done exactly the same thing again if she’d been given the choice. ‘I’m not blaming you, if that’s what you’re worried about.’
Suddenly she was relieved that she’d made the decision to get up before he awoke. It had removed the temptation to snuggle against him and initiate the type of intimacy that she knew he hated.
It had also removed the utter embarrassment of having to face him for the first time in the revealing spotlight of the morning sunshine.
‘Lindsay—’
‘Can we talk about something else?’ She interrupted him quickly, adjusting the hat again simply because she needed to do something with her hands. Something other than sliding them round his neck. ‘I completely understand that being trapped on a boat with the woman you spent the night before with must be your idea of a nightmare. But you really needn’t worry. I don’t want to talk about it either.’
She waited for him to give some indication that he was grateful for her sensitivity, but he simply studied her in brooding silence until the longing inside her became so acute that she knew that if she didn’t move away she’d do something that would embarrass both of them.
Alessio Capelli has taught me everything about passion, she thought desperately, but what he hasn’t taught me is how to walk away afterwards.
Three hours later Lindsay lay in a luxuriously scented bath, staring at an unbroken view of smooth white sand and palm trees.
She felt drained after the emotional battering she’d received over the past twenty-four hours, but, strangely enough, she also felt calmer than she’d felt in years.
For the first time ever her heart rate stayed steady when she thought about her mother.
And when she thought of Ruby it was with resignation rather than desperation.
And as for herself—
On the bed next door was her dress, laid out ready for the evening. It was the simplest dress in her new wardrobe. Powder-blue and summery rather than sexy. And that suited her.
The last thing she wanted was Alessio thinking she was trying to engender a repeat performance.
She was painfully aware that if they hadn’t been trapped on an island, she wouldn’t be seeing him again. And clearly he was finding their continued proximity a major cause of irritation.
They’d arrived back at Kingfisher Cay just before lunch. Alessio had immediately leaped from the boat onto the narrow wooden jetty, paused to exchange a few words with the staff member hovering ready to take the boat, and then strode off to his villa without so much as a single smouldering glance in her direction.
It was obvious from his body language that he had no desire to spend another moment in her company.
And had that hurt?
Yes. It had been agony, because no matter how many times she told herself that this was what she’d expected, she’d still wanted something entirely different.
Lindsay sniffed and slowly rubbed the bubbles over her skin. Even though she knew exactly who he was and the rules he played by, she was still human enough—female enough—to have wished that he’d swept her into his arms, carried her to the nearest private place and demanded a repeat performance.
But Alessio Capelli didn’t do repeat performances, did he?
She slid farther under the bubbles, trying to ignore the recurrent buzz of electricity coursing through her body. It was as if he’d flicked a switch, but hadn’t bothered to turn it off again afterwards.
And now she had to live with the consequences.
The next time she chose to have a wild fling, she was going to make sure that she’d planned her escape route. Instead of both being able to go their own ways, pretending that nothing had happened, they were both trapped here in paradise—forced to confront each other. And everything about the setting was designed to make that as hard as possible.
Kingfisher Cay was designed for romance. From its curved soft beaches, to the privacy of its coves, it was a place for lovers.
Exasperated with herself, Lindsay stepped out of the bath and reached for one of the large, soft towels that had been laid out ready for her use.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
She’d known what he was like.
She wasn’t going to turn into one of those sad, deluded women who thought they’d be the one to make a bad boy change his wicked ways.
Wrapping the towel around her body, she sat on the edge of the bath, staring blindly at the smooth, tiled floor.