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Maybe it was better she’d never met him. She might have ended up more like her brother. A brother she defended like a tiger would defend her cubs. Would she be so quick to defend him if she knew more of his past? He doubted it.

‘So, you haven’t actually known Fletcher that long?’

Her jawline hardened, her mouth tightening. ‘I’ve known him long enough.’

‘Maybe you don’t know him as well as you think.’

‘Look, Mr Caruana, I think we’ve established how you feel about my brother.’

‘Daniel.’

‘What?’

‘Didn’t we agree you’d call me Daniel? And that I would call you by your first name?’

‘I—’

‘After all, Sophie,’ he argued softly, slowing the vehicle for a bend, ‘We are almost related.’

She sat upright in her seat, even stiffer and more tight-lipped than before, and he got the distinct impression she considered the idea of him being her brother-in-law with even less appeal than he contemplated her becoming his sister-in-law, though why that notion should grate he wasn’t entirely sure.

They rounded the last curve and he heard her small gasp of surprise beside him as the first timber and palm bungalow came into view with the hint of more hidden in the dense palm forest beyond. ‘What’s this?’

He jerked on the handbrake and jumped out, offering her his hand. ‘You said you wanted infrastructure,’ he mocked. ‘And I always give a lady what she wants.’

She’d just bet he did. Although her cynicism would have been far more effective if his words had not just sent a burst of heat all the way down her spine.

‘Don’t worry about your things,’ he said as she reached for her briefcase. ‘The only people on the island are my employees. They know if they do anything wrong, they’ll be FBO’d.’

‘“FBO’d”?’ she asked, keeping the rising panic from her voice as reluctantly she put her hand in his, feeling his warm fingers wrap around her hand, feeling his strength, his heat and his sheer masculine power as he helped her out of the buggy. It didn’t help that he was smiling. It didn’t help that she could feel that smile all the way down to her toes.

Surely it shouldn’t feel so good to touch someone who was so arrogant and unlikeable, someone who made clear his feelings that her brother was in no way good enough to marry his sister? Then he let her hand go to indicate she precede him up the steps to the timber deck, and she had to clamp down on a bizarre sense of disappointment. ‘What does FBO mean, exactly?’ she asked with false brightness, wishing she had either her briefcase or portfolio to cling onto, anything to make her hands feel less awkward and empty as she climbed the short flight of steps up to the deck, skirted a table and two chairs and stood by the railing, looking out at the view.

He came alongside her where the bungalow looked out through the thinning spread of trees towards the sandy beach and the promise of oceanic perfection.

‘It means they’ll be on the first boat off.’

‘You mean like on those reality shows where someone gets voted off the island?’

‘There’s no voting involved,’ he said unapologetically, crossing the deck to slide big glass doors that opened to billowing curtains, standing back to let her pass. ‘You mess up, you pay the price.’

She almost laughed. Almost. Until she caught his deadpan expression and realised he was completely and utterly serious. ‘Sounds like a mantra to live by,’ she murmured.

‘It works for me,’ he said simply, swiping off his sunglasses. As she moved past him she wondered if he was only talking about his employees.

This was Daniel’s island and he was in charge. King of his island castle. Thank heavens Monica had agreed to hold the wedding in Brisbane. She couldn’t imagine trying to organise a wedding here with Daniel watching, waiting for every mistake. Not that there was any chance of that happening, no matter what he thought of his ‘infrastructure’.

Sophie entered the bure, removed her sunglasses and felt her heart sink as her eyes adjusted. The sight of the bungalows hidden in the rainforest had been a surprise in itself; the article she’d read had mentioned nothing of scattered bungalows. But, while the decking had been thoughtfully designed, the simple exterior had given no indication of the luxury contained within. The timber-framed glass doors opened straight into a spacious sitting-room decorated not in the usual and unimaginative palm-tree prints but in tasteful russet, cream and coffee shades. The prints on fabrics and walls were minimal, the furnishings inviting, and Sophie applauded every decorating choice.


Tags: Trish Morey Billionaire Romance