He nodded, the fading light from the diminishing lanterns as they ran out of gas making it harder to work out his expression. ‘Materially, I grew up with nothing. You know that. My friends back then had nothing either. All we had to look forward to was a future of yet more nothing. Then I went to that school where everyone oozed polish and confidence, where everything was possible and the future was for the taking. Even the sun seemed to shine more brightly. I was a fish out of water. I spoke differently. I dressed differently. And after I’d been there a while, the same was true when I went back home. I didn’t fit in in my old world. I certainly didn’t fit in in my new one where it was impossible to forget I was very much a charity case.’
The trace of bitterness I could hear in his voice tightened my chest. A charity case? I’d had no idea he’d felt it so keenly.
‘You were an all-round star,’ I said, suddenly burning with an unfathomable urge to redress the balance. ‘You won every prize going, whether in the classroom or on the sports fields. That wasn’t because anyone felt sorry for you. It was a very competitive environment. You weren’tallowedto win. You just did. All the time. You completely deserved your place there. Far more than I did. I mean, let’s be honest, it’s not a coincidence that my father built the business centre the year I showed up.’
His brows snapped together. ‘Do you really think that?’
‘The evidence speaks for itself.’
‘That’s utter rubbish,’ he said. ‘You’re one of the brightest people I know. You aced your exams and the university you went to only takes the best.’
‘Ah yes, but who’s to say my dad didn’t pay for me to get in?’
‘How can you think so little of yourself?’
I hadn’t always. I’d brimmed with confidence once upon a time. But the shattering of my beliefs had led to a reassessment of everything and as a result I was permanently riddled with doubt. ‘It’s hard not to when people have always just sort of abandoned you.’
‘What people?’
‘My friends. My boyfriend at the time. My parents. They all disappeared in one way or another when the going got tough. There was clearly nothing about me personally that was worth hanging onto then. It’s hard to believe that there might be now. Even Seb lives halfway across the world. All those adjectives you used to describe me—they aren’t innate. I simply had no choice if I wanted to survive.’
‘You underestimate yourself.’
‘I don’t. I know what I am,’ I said, realising from the set of Nick’s jaw—clearly outlined despite the dying light—that I wasn’t going to win that particular argument and deciding it would be more worthwhile to redirect the conversation back to him. ‘And if anyone’s underestimating themselves it’s you. Look at what you’ve achieved. Yes, you were given opportunities by others, but you made the most of them. Not everyone who went to that school did. One of my classmates even ended up in jail. You obviously inherited your mother’s work ethic. Your success is wholly your own. If you truly have everything you could possibly need, then you more than deserve it.’
His gaze was intent on mine. ‘I don’t haveeverythingI could possibly need.’
‘No, well, everyone needs a place to belong.’ I thought of the way he’d once wolfed down his food and the patched and darned second-hand uniform that had made him an easy target for the entitled jerks at school, of which I’d been one albeit without the bullying streak. And then I thought of the sports car, the confidence and the success, the custom-made suits and the watches, the penthouse apartments and the private tropical island we were stuck on. ‘Although I must admit you seem very comfortable in the world you currently inhabit.’
‘I enjoy the trappings that come with success, but I saw what happened to your father’s businesses and the consequences of that. I take nothing for granted. I’m under no illusion I couldn’t lose everything—’ he snapped his fingers ‘—just like that.’
‘That doesn’t seem likely.’ Nick had billions and he wasn’t desperate to win back a wife who’d gone astray. ‘By your own admission you’re not reckless—what happened earlier with the generator notwithstanding—and you never let the personal interfere with the professional. And that’s another reason for drawing a line under what just happened. We’re in business together.’
‘You’re not an ordinary client.’
‘Nothing about any of this is ordinary.’
‘Least of all you,’ he said, the certainty of his voice sending a brief dart of doubt arrowing through me that I batted aside because I’d had years to ruminate on everything and I knew what was what. ‘Your inferiority complex is unnecessary, Amelia. Our so-called chasm-like differences are non-existent. You’re using your brother as an excuse. He wouldn’t give a toss what we got up to. And to hell with the personal-professional conflict of interest. I’m too good at my job for that to be a concern.’ He took a purposeful step towards me and my heart began to race. ‘You should know that I want to do what we just did again. Over and over again. We have years of wasted time to make up for and there are things I’ve imagined doing to you that would have you screaming with pleasure and begging for mercy.’
The heat that was now blazing in his eyes ignited a fire in the pit of my stomach quite suddenly, my head emptied of everything but one single thought. ‘What things?’
Wicked wasn’t a word that I’d have ever associated with Nick, yet it was the only way to describe the gleam that appeared in his eye and the smile that played at his mouth. ‘I guess you’ll never know.’
CHAPTER NINE
BEFOREICOULDgive in to the insane yet impossible desire to demand detailed, physical clarification on the matter ofthe thingswhen they were neither here nor there, I swiped a torch from the floor, turned it on and announced I was off for a shower. That it would be cold as a result of the power cut and the generator breakdown, which Nick pointed out, was not a problem. I was hot and sticky and desperately needed to cool off. I could only hope that there was enough water left in the tank to do the job properly.
Once in the relative sanctuary of the bathroom, I checked the window and the storm that was raging beyond. After a swift assessment that resulted in the conclusion that the risk of harm was minimal, I set the torch down and stripped off my clothes. I switched the tap to cold, then braced myself and stepped in.
But the shower wasn’t the cooling, cleansing experience I’d been anticipating.
The minute I ducked beneath the flow of water—which, this being the tropics, wasn’t nearly icy enough—it struck me that Nick’s scent and his mark on me were sluicing off my body and being washed straight down the drain, and it felt strangely like a loss.
As I lathered up, the memory of his hands on me and the way he’d held me tight while he took me to the edge of the world and then hurled me over it slammed into my head and wouldn’t budge.
When I ran the loofah over my abdomen, the sensitive skin there tingling and twitching, I found myself wondering what—if anything—was going on inside and what action I’d take in the event I made it to a pharmacy in time.
And then, as I stood rinsing off the bubbles, hoping to feel the zesty freshness my shower gel promised but instead feeling hotter and more skittish than ever, remnants of our conversation began to rattle round my head like the most fiendish of riddles.