THIS WAS THE life, Phoebe thought, rolling onto her stomach and feeling the sun hit the backs of her legs. With the gentle sound of the waves lapping at the shore, the breeze rippling through the palm trees, and the softness of the fine sand beneath her towel, she really was in her own little slice of heaven.
Alex’s abrupt departure had left her standing there feeling like a spare part and wondering if she’d said something wrong. But she’d pulled herself together, and, after asking around to see if anyone needed any help and being assured that everything was under control, she’d found her way to the guest wing, changed out of her jeans into a skirt and had headed for the relative calm of the beach.
The file with all the details of the guests and the research she’d done lay beneath her cheek. She’d committed pretty much every detail to memory and she’d honed the strategy she’d come up with the night before. If everything went according to plan, within a few hours her position would be safe and she could get back to her life.
In the meantime she intended to take full advantage of the calm before the storm. She felt herself drifting off to sleep when the sun went behind a cloud. She shivered and reached for her cardigan.
‘Working hard?’
Phoebe jolted, manoeuvred herself into a less vulnerable sitting position and squinted up at him. ‘I wish you wouldn’t keep doing this.’
‘What?’ Alex said mildly.
‘Creeping up on me.’
‘Sand’s quiet like that.’
So was he, and looming over her like that he was also rather intimidating. The bright sun behind him cast his face in shadow and sunglasses covered his eyes.
He had changed too, ditching the jeans for a pair of khaki shorts. Phoebe couldn’t help running her gaze over his legs: tanned and as muscled as she’d imagined. A vision of them entwined with hers charged into her head and her mouth went dry.
This was ridiculous, she scolded herself, swallowing hard. It was just a pair of legs. Everybody had them. Nevertheless it took every drop of strength she possessed to drag her gaze up his body and reach his face. A tiny smile hovered at his mouth and Phoebe instantly realised that he knew she’d been checking him out.
If he mentioned it she’d attribute the pinking of her cheeks to the sun, she decided, pushing herself to her feet and brushing the sand off her skirt. ‘What’s up?’
‘Nothing’s up. I’m going for a sail. You’re in my way.’
Phoebe glanced round at the acres of sand that surrounded the spot where she’d been lying. ‘It’s a big beach. Is that yours?’ She pointed to the gleaming white yacht moored up against the jetty that stretched out from the beach into the sea.
‘It is.’
‘Pretty.’
‘I think so.’
‘What’s it called?’
‘She is called the Phoenix Three.’
‘Sounds like a pop group. What happened to the Phoenix One and Two?’
‘They sank.’
‘And each one rises from the ashes of the previous?’
‘Soggy ashes, but something like that.’
‘Can I come?’ While she’d learned every possible thing she could about his guests, she’d found out precious little about him. How could she do a proper job this evening without knowing as much as possible? Alex had so far proved remarkably adept at dodging her questions. Trapping him on a boat would be ideal.
‘Shouldn’t you be working?’
‘I’ve done as much as I can from my notes,’ she said. ‘The rest I’ll just have to pick up as I go along.’ She smiled winsomely. ‘I promise not to get in the way.’
Alex ran his fingers through his hair in a gesture of frustration. He clearly didn’t want her on board his yacht. Well, that was tough. She was coming along for the ride whether he liked it or not.
Phoebe glanced down at the cool box he was carrying and decided that she wasn’t above a little manipulation herself.
She stared at it longingly. ‘Is that lunch?’