Hmm. Carla didn’t know about that. In her opinion, staying with Rico would mean approximately thirty-six more hours of trying to keep a lid on the attraction that instead of dissipating seemed to be growing in intensity. It would mean spending time with him, which would result in the kind of stress and discomfort that did not appeal. It would mean further reliance on someone who wasn’t her, and worse, on a man.
On the other hand, it would provide an opportunity to restart her temporarily derailed mission to change his mind about meeting Finn. Earlier, she’d opened an email from Georgie, in which her best friend had asked how she was getting on and whether she’d made any progress. The deluge of guilt and shame she’d felt at the realisation that she’d allowed her own issues to take over had prevented her from replying. She didn’t want to have to admit that she hadn’t made very much progress at all. She didn’t want to have to confess to all the reasons why.
Now was the chance to get back on track and rectify that. If she accepted his proposal and installed herself in his house, Rico would be a captive audience. She’d give him no option but to talk. She might not have much time, but in the course of her career she’d achieved a lot more with less, and here, failure was not an option. This time, nothing was going to get in her way. Her focus would remain unshakeable.
She’d put her plan into action the minute they returned to his island. He wouldn’t know what had hit him. She’d start with his house and go from there. You could tell a lot about a person from the place they called home. And then she’d move on to everything else she wanted to know, such as why he’d really walked out of Finn’s study yesterday lunchtime and what exactly he had against police stations. She’d noticed the tension that had radiated off him when she’d been filling in the forms. It hinted at dark secrets she badly wanted to uncover. For the job she was here to do, naturally.
Why he obviously now had no intention of acting on the attraction he still felt for her was not something she needed to know, any more than why he affected her so fiercely. The mission was her number one priority. It was the only thing that mattered now, so she’d be a fool and a coward not to accept his offer, not to mention an appalling best friend, and she hoped she was no longer any of those things.
‘Thank you,’ she said with a nod, ignoring the flutter of misgiving that nevertheless flickered deep inside her. ‘That would be great.’
* * *
What Rico was doing inviting Carla to stay, to invade his space and shatter his privacy, he had no idea. He’d caught the flare of triumphant satisfaction in her eyes while she’d been considering what best to do. He knew what she was going to attempt. Hadn’t he recognised her tenacity and her resourcefulness and decided to have nothing to do with her precisely because she might slip beneath his guard? By taking her back to his home, by exposing himself to the barrage of prying questions that was undoubtedly coming his way, wasn’t he potentially not just lowering his guard but also quite possibly tossing it aside altogether?
Rico had been taking risks from the moment he’d woken up to the harsh realities of life at the age of sixteen and discovered he cared about absolutely nothing. He had no responsibilities, was accountable to no one, and therefore had zero to lose. So why shouldn’t he pursue the thrill his reckless actions gave him, especially when they unfailingly turned out well?
Telling Carla she could continue to stay with him, however, was reckless beyond belief, a risk too great even for him to take. He knew that. It destabilised the status quo. It threatened the very essence of who he was. So why had his instincts, the ones he’d never yet had cause to doubt, prodded him to do it? Why did inviting Carla into his space, regardless of what she might do with it, feel so right?
Steering the boat towards the jetty, Rico eased off on the throttle and tossed a buoy over the side. The boat bumped gently against the wood, jarring the thoughts knocking around his head, and he threw a loop of rope over the mooring post.
Perhaps he was overthinking this, he thought grimly as Carla grabbed the replacement bag she’d bought and hopped off before he could even think about offering her a hand, which was a relief. Where was the danger really? If she started bombarding him with questions about himself and reasons why he should establish proper contact with his brother he’d be ready. If she decided to get personal, he could choose what to reveal and what to keep secret. He’d been doing it for years. And as for the scorching desire he felt for her, his will power was strong and she’d be gone soon enough.
Shaking off the unease and focusing on the eminently sensible way he was going to handle the next thirty-six hours, Rico stepped off the boat and set off up the cypress tree-lined path that led to the house.
‘What made you choose to live here instead of the city?’ she asked, falling in beside him.
‘It’s cool in the heat of the summer,’ he replied, and it was partly the truth. She didn’t need to know about his craving for space, clean air and greenery after calling the dirty urban streets home for too long. ‘There’s plenty of room for the pool. Plus you can’t land a helicopter in the city.’
‘I can see how that would be inconvenient.’
‘You’ll see just how convenient it is tomorrow when I take you to Milan.’
‘We’re going by helicopter?’
‘Fastest way to get there.’
‘Speed is good.’
Not always. He could think of plenty of occasions when slow was better. But now wasn’t one of them, so he upped his pace, as uncomfortably aware of Carla hot on his heels as he was of the sharp complaint of his muscles.
‘We’ll leave at eight.’
‘I’ll change my flight to Tuesday morning,’ she said with a slight breathlessness that he ruthlessly ignored. ‘Just in case there’s any delay tomorrow.’
‘I’ll take you to the airport.’
‘That would be appreciated.’
‘It’s no problem at all.’
They continued in silence for a moment and then she said, ‘So if I’m going to be staying here for a little while longer, would you show me around? I wouldn’t want to get lost and wind up somewhere I shouldn’t.’
‘Now?’
‘Unless you have somewhere else to be. The standard tour will do.’
‘There is no standard tour,’ he said, faintly disturbed about the thought of her nosing around his home even though it was too late for regrets.