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It would be bliss, absolute bliss to take a leisurely shower and shampoo her hair with the high-end market products lined up in the en suite. To use the hair-drier, wrap her body in the luxurious towelling robe, then slip into that comfortable bed…and sleep.
The temptation was too great, and with quick, economical movements she discarded her clothes, then stepped into the large marbled-tiled shower stall to luxuriate in an endless supply of steaming hot water.
The delicately scented body-wash was heaven, so, too, the luxury shampoo…neither of which she’d been able to afford to use for years.
Had Maria been instructed to stock up the en suite? Or were the products a complimentary gesture to whichever female Duardo took to his bed?
A man of his calibre had women falling all over him. Attracted to his wealth, his social status…and tantalized by his former bad-boy reputation.
Kayla tilted her head and let the water’s needle-spray course over her face. Dammit, it felt so good not to have to consider a tiny heating system that permitted three-minute ablutions before the water ran cold.
It was a while before Kayla turned off the dial, then, towelled dry, she pulled on the robe before tending to her hair.
Bed had never looked so good, and she turned back the top cover, touched the feather pillow with something akin to reverence…
She should unpack—but who was she kidding? The contents of her bag were so basic it would take only minutes to stow them.
As to pulling on clothes…the idea had little appeal. Nor did returning downstairs.
The weight of the day and its outcome descended on her slim shoulders, and she slid between the fine percale sheets with care.
She wasn’t going anywhere.
Duardo could come find her when he was ready.
Kayla slept, unaware of Duardo’s presence, more than an hour later, or that he stood looking down at her pale features in repose.
She didn’t register that he left the room and returned close to midnight, nor did she hear the shower or sense him slide into bed.
It was only when her hand came into contact with a solid, warm ribcage in the early hours of the morning that she freaked out, subconsciously unaware of where she was in those initial few seconds.
She knew only that it was dark, the bed wasn’t her own…and who in hell was controlling her frantic need to escape.
She heard her name…then movement, and the room became bathed in soft light.
Son-of-a-bitch. Duardo bit back the muffled curse as he took in the tumbled hair, the heated cheeks, her heaving body, the stark fear in those brilliant blue eyes…and witnessed the moment comprehension hit.
‘You forgot where you were.’
Oh, dear lord. ‘Yes.’ The simplicity of it seemed ludicrous.
He was close, much too close. The warmth of his skin covering hard muscle and sinew, the clean masculine scent of soap…the sensual heat that was his alone.
Physical awareness as strong as it had ever been. Riveting, hypnotic…pagan.
The need to put some space between them was imperative, and she moved a little, aware of the stillness apparent in the dark depths of his eyes.
He could easily reach for her, draw her in against him and cover her mouth with his own. Soothe, seduce…and have her go up in flames.
As he had, many times, during their magical time in Hawaii. An apt and willing pupil, she’d exulted beneath his skilled hands, his mouth, the feel of him deep inside her.
How many nights had she lain awake, cursing herself for allowing him to walk away? For not having the courage, the perspicacity to stand up against her father.
Now she was back in Duardo’s bed for all the wrong reasons, and she hated him for it.
‘Go to sleep.’
As if!
‘Unless you need some help?’ His drawled query was unmistakable, and she made no attempt to disguise the slight bitterness in her voice.
‘Do I have a choice?’
‘For now.’
‘Thank heaven for small mercies.’
‘Cynicism doesn’t suit you.’
‘Pity.’ She paused as she speared his gaze with her own. ‘I’m not big on warm fuzzies at the moment.’
His soft chuckle was almost her undoing. ‘I seem to recall you being quite talkative at this hour of the morning.’
In the afterglow of exceptionally great sex. When she lay curled into him, her cheek nestled against his chest. A time of dreams, love, hope.
‘I’m surprised you remember.’ Kayla’s response was deliberately tart. ‘With all the women who followed me.’
‘You imagine there were so many?’
Thinking about just how many was like being stabbed in the heart. ‘They would have stood in line for the privilege.’
‘A back-handed compliment, Kayla?’
‘A statement of fact.’
‘Derived from experience?’
‘A trick question, Duardo?’ She was damned if she’d reveal she’d taken no one to her bed…since, or before him.
A silent laugh bubbled up in her throat, almost choking her. The original virgin…a one-man woman. If it wasn’t so tragic, it would be hysterical.
‘Which you’d prefer not to answer.’
‘Got it in one.’
His mouth curved into a slight smile. ‘Are you done?’
She borrowed his words without compunction. ‘For now.’
‘Let’s make the most of the few hours before dawn, hmm?’
For a brief few seconds her eyes held uncertainty, followed by a degree of wariness.
‘To sleep,’ he added with a tinge of amusement before settling onto his back, and he proceeded to do just that within a very short period of time.
Much to her relief.
Or, so she told herself as she deliberately banished the slow-curling desire insidiously invading her body.
CHAPTER THREE
KAYLA came awake to morning sunshine filtering through the curtains and the knowledge that she was alone in the vast bed.
A quick glance at the time, and she hit the floor running.
The hospital…She’d promised Jacob she’d be there before he went in for surgery. Forget breakfast, she decided as she took care of bathroom necessities…she’d grab something later.
Clothes…jeans, a singlet top, jacket. Hair caught into a practised knot and secured with a large clip, minimal make-up, lipstick…and she emerged into the bedroom to see Duardo in the process of adjusting his tie.
Well-groomed, attired in impeccable tailoring, he looked every inch the executive entrepreneur. And far too ruggedly attractive for any woman’s peace of mind.
Especially hers.
‘You should have woken me.’ The words were almost an accusation.
‘What happened to good morning?’ His New-York-accented drawl held indolent amusement, and she threw him a heated glance.
‘Thanks to you, I’m going to be late.’
‘Maria has breakfast ready for you.’
‘I don’t—’
‘I’ve already phoned the hospital. Jacob won’t be transferred down to Theatre until nine.’
‘—have time to eat,’ she concluded.
‘Yes, you will.’ He subjected her to a raking appraisal, noting the fine bone structure, a slenderness that was almost too lean. How many meals had she missed in the past? ‘Spence will drive you there.’
She opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again.
His expression remained unchanged. ‘It’s his job description.’ Only part of it. He extracted a cellphone from his jacket pocket and handed it to her. ‘Yours. The essential numbers are already programmed in on speed-dial.’
Kayla thrust it into her shoulder bag, and looked in silent askance as he withdrew a sheaf of papers.
‘Your signature is required on the marriage-licence application.’
Duardo handed her a pen, indicated where she should sign, then handed her a legal document. ‘A copy of the pre-nuptial agreement for you to read. You have an appointment with my lawyer at midday to sign the original.’
Oh, my. She felt her stomach twist into a painful knot. All legalities taken care of. Somehow she didn’t feel inclined to thank him.
Calm, she had to remain calm. ‘I imagine you’ve arranged a date for this marriage?’
‘Tomorrow. A Celebrant will conduct the ceremony here at the house.’
‘Tomorrow.’ She swallowed the sudden lump that had formed in her throat.
He withdrew his wallet, extracted several notes and handed them to her. ‘I’ll organize a bank account and charge-card in your name this morning. Spence will ensure you tend to the necessary paperwork.’
‘You’re not afraid I might abscond?’ The query emerged with more flippancy than she intended, and his gaze narrowed fractionally.
‘Be warned, you wouldn’t get far.’
A chill settled deep in her bones. ‘I made a deal,’ she voiced quietly. ‘There’s too much at stake for me not to honour it.’
Duardo collected his briefcase in one hand and picked up his laptop. ‘I’ll see you tonight.’
‘Late,’ Kayla qualified, and at his raised eyebrow she added in explanation, ‘Jacob. Hospital.’
‘Spence will drop you there this afternoon.’
‘I can use public transport.’
‘But you won’t.’ There was an underlying hint of steel apparent, which she chose to ignore.
‘Why not?’ Besides, she wanted some degree of independence.
His eyes seared hers. ‘You want to draw battle lines?’
Her head tilted a little as she held his gaze. ‘Yes.’
‘We’ll discuss issues over dinner.’
‘Let’s do that.’ Without a further word she made her way downstairs, aware he descended them at her side, and she didn’t so much as spare him a glance as they reached the foyer and went in different directions.
Kayla found the informal dining room, and greeted the hovering Maria with a smile.
Orange juice, coffee, cereal, fruit, eggs benedict…it was a veritable feast. Her appetite, which had taken a dive, was sufficiently tempted to have a little of each.
For years, breakfast had been a gulp-and-go affair as she inevitably raced to meet the train. To sit down and savour food without the immediate need to rush proved something of a rarity.
Spence appeared as she drained the last of her coffee, and she grabbed her bag and followed him out to the four-wheel-drive.
They struck peak-hour traffic, which slowed their progress down, and although she had a host of questions, she asked only one. ‘Did you know Duardo in New York?’
An easy smile parted his mouth. ‘For a number of years. When I expressed a desire to move to Australia, he suggested I take care of security for him.’
Had they worked the streets together and kept one step ahead of the law? Moved on and up by the skin of their teeth and sheer luck before exchanging the shady deals for legitimate ones? Taking risks no sensible person would touch, gambling both life and limb in the driven desire to succeed?
