‘I know you miss David. And I know you’re worried about him,’ he said softly, letting his fingers close around hers.
He envied the closeness she shared with her brother. The absolute trust and dependence. It was pure and powerful and unbreakable.
His chest grew tight. Or it was supposed to be anyway. He forced a smile.
‘But he’s going to be okay. I’ll make sure of that.’
Daisy nodded. His hand felt warm. But it was the warmth and the certainty in his voice that eased the pain in her heart as Dunmore turned back towards her.
After coffee, they sat and chatted easily, until finally Rollo glanced at his watch.
‘We really ought to be getting back.’
‘Of course.’ Standing up, Dunmore patted Rollo on the shoulder. ‘But on one condition. I insist that you both come up to Swan Creek for the weekend. We’ll have lunch, and then maybe, Rollo, we can have another look at that proposal of yours.’
CHAPTER NINE
BACK AT THE PENTHOUSE, they tumbled into bed. It was fast and urgent, both of them gripped by the same hot desperation, furiously goading each other with their hands and mouths and bodies, until finally they shuddered to an explosive climax together.
Afterwards, Rollo gathered her against his damp body and, breathing out softly, drifted instantly into sleep.
Beside him though, Daisy lay wide awake. Beneath the beating of her heart Dunmore’s offer was playing on a loop inside her head.
‘Maybe, Rollo, we can have another look at that proposal of yours.’
Rollo had played it cool. He had shown no hint of triumph. But she knew that the older man’s words were exactly what he had been hoping to hear. What she too should have been pleased to hear. After all, the quicker Dunmore agreed to sell to Rollo, the sooner she would be free of him.
Only she didn’t feel pleased. In fact, being one step closer to Rollo achieving his goal, and thus to her freedom, was making her nerves twitch so that being still was suddenly an impossibility.
What she needed was an anaesthetic—a way to numb her brain. A few rigorous laps of the rooftop pool should do the trick.
Gently lifting Rollo’s arm, she slid off the bed and padded towards the dressing room.
Ten minutes later, she was sliding through the clear blue water, her mind so focused on the rhythm of her stroke that soon her anxieties faded away. Finally she could swim no more and, heart pounding, she pulled herself out onto the deck.
As she wiped the water from her eyes her heart did a backflip. Rollo was sitting on one of the loungers, wearing jeans, his feet and chest bare, a towel dangling from his hand.
She smiled. ‘I thought you were asleep.’
‘I was. But I woke up and you were gone.’
There was a tension in his voice she might have missed had she not grown so attuned to the subtleties of his manner.
‘I was a bit wound up,’ she said lightly. ‘So I went for a swim.’
His eyes rested on her face. ‘What’s up? Are you still worrying about David?’
She was about to nod automatically, but with shock she realised that she wasn’t. She had spoken to her parents and her brother on the way back to the apartment, and they’d been surprised—particularly David—by the news of her engagement. But as she’d expected their happiness had outweighed any misgivings. She felt calmer about everything except—
She shook her head. ‘It’s not David. It’s James. Mr Dunmore.’
His gaze searched her face with a hint of impatience.
‘What about him?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I suppose he wasn’t real before. Now he is. And I liked him,’ she said simply.
‘And that’s a problem?’ His fingers tapped irritably against the arm of the chair.