Eventually, he waved the boy out and quietly shut the door behind him before turning to Sophie.
‘Help yourself.’
Everything was spread on a double-tiered chrome and glass trolley, including a bottle of wine, which Niccolo felt it prudent to steer clear of.
He helped himself to what was there and out of the corner of his eye noted every detail of her slender hands as she scooped salad onto a plate. The very fair, downy hair on them, the length of her fingers and the blunt practicality of her short nails. He could just about catch a glimpse of her blonde hair escaping around her face in untidy tendrils and he could hear her soft breathing as she concentrated on what she was putting on her plate.
He told her what she was expected to do, and he was aware of her answering, her voice low. How had he failed to realise just how pleasing it was to the ear?
Yes, she would make sure Annalise was entertained, but she was here to work and not play...
Were things back to normal?
He damn well hoped so.
Eyes carefully averted, Sophie heard herself relentlessly chattering her way through the meal. The salads were delicious. She ignored the wine, as did he, and instead washed everything down with bottled water.
His eyes were on her, lazy and assessing. She suspected he was probably bored witless with her non-stop twittering, but she was desperate to break a silence that seemed suddenly fraught.
As soon as she had eaten the last of what she thought was an acceptable amount of the fantastically prepared food, she politely pushed her plate to one side and began standing up.
Only then did she risk looking at him.
He too was rising to his feet—so tall, so aggressively masculine...and so close to her... Far too close, close enough to set her heart thumping a panicked tattoo, close enough for her to stumble back a few inches.
Close enough for her to see, with alarm, panic and dark, forbidden excitement, her own dangerous desire mirrored in his lazy, brooding gaze.
After half an hour of ceaseless wittering, she could find no words to break the thick, electric silence. It wrapped around them until breathing became difficult.
‘No,’ she finally croaked. She realised that somehow they had closed the gap between them. She realised thatsomehowher hand was resting on the washboard hardness of his stomach. She could feel him breathing and it was as if they had suddenly become bonded, his energy flowing into her, energising her and terrifying her at the same time.
‘No,’ Niccolo echoed thickly. He stepped back, breaking the spell but not so much that she could tear her eyes away from him. The drag on her senses made her weak, weak with a fierce longing she hadn’t known she possessed.
Loneliness, she thought wildly. Stress and loneliness, and there he had been, the last guy she could ever possibly go for, and all that stress and loneliness had found refuge in him because, whatever stupid attraction she felt, she was inherently safe.
‘I’m tired. I need to go to sleep. I’ll see you...Annaliseand I will see you in the morning.’ She knew that she was stumbling over her words.
Staring at him, she was ashamed that she wanted to see more of what she had seen before, more of that burning desire, but he stepped back as well and looked down for a few seconds, shielding his expression, and then when he lifted his eyes they were cool and controlled and she wondered whether she had imagined the past five intense, scorching minutes.
He didn’t say anything, except to tell her that someone would collect the dishes within the next half an hour, then with a nod he was gone, and she sagged like a puppet, strings abruptly cut.
What had just happened? She didn’t quite know, but shedidknow that it was not going to happen again.
CHAPTER SIX
NOTEVENSIMMERINGtension and a sickening sense of needing to be on guard at all times could detract from the magnificence of her surroundings.
The following day was a busy one, with Niccolo’s clients arriving in stages, some by the very same helicopter that had transported her and Annalise to the yacht, others by speedboats, one of which was a dedicated speedboat that seemed to be stored somewhere within the vast hull of the yacht.
Because of the number of decks on the yacht, all of which overlooked the main entry point, Sophie and Annalise could keep a safe distance while they both watched the comings and goings, fascinated. There was a sense of urgency in the air, which even Annalise felt because she couldn’t quite focus on any of the fun activities Sophie had planned for the day.
The sun was beautifully warm, even in the shade where they both lounged on sofas that perched by one of three outdoor pools, this one small but with a lovely jacuzzi to one side. They could hear the distant sound of voices carrying on the warm air up to where they sat.
They had been shown to the pool area first thing by one of the many members of staff, and several hours later that very same member of staff had been their self-appointed waiter in residence, bringing them drinks and lunch and hovering to make sure their every need was met with speed.
They had swum and done some arts and crafts, and for a couple of hours they had watched a bit of television and then eaten at the private dining area just off the pool area.
And Niccolo? It was a little after four in the afternoon and Sophie had not laid eyes on him yet. She had finally stopped glancing surreptitiously in all directions, like a spy in a B-rated movie, and was just beginning to relax, back at the pool, when she was alerted to Niccolo’s presence by Annalise.
