He handed her some wine and she leaned in to brush her lips against his, lingering for a tantalising moment that tested his resolve, before withdrawing. She tasted of the sea breeze and cinnamon, and something deeply sensual that was unique to her. Something that made him want to lean in for more.
Blue eyes twinkled. She knew exactly how much he wanted her. ‘Thanks for hiking up with the food, Fotis.’ She raised her glass. ‘Yassou.’
He lifted his own in salute. ‘Yassou, Rosa.’
He loved her reaction to the intimate nickname. The hint of a flush across her throat and the glow of pleasure in her beautiful eyes. It made him want…
Fotis swallowed a mouthful of crisp wine then reached for an olive, breaking their locked gazes.
‘I have a question.’ It had been on his mind for weeks, that incident in Paris that had set the seal on his initial negative opinion. An opinion that didn’t fit the woman he knew.
She tilted her head. ‘Go on.’
‘Tell me about the dress in the Paris boutique. The red one you rejected.’
At first he’d imagined her reaction was simply selfishness. Now he knew better. Her manner at the boutique was at odds with the way she dealt with other people. Completely at odds with how she interacted with the villagers here.
Rosamund paused in the act of laying a tomato slice on a piece of bread. A tiny frown line appeared in the centre of her forehead as she took her time adding another slice. ‘What do you want to know?’
He hated the wariness in her voice and how her lush mouth pinched at the corners. But he wanted more from her, more than sexual gratification. He hungered toknowher. He told himself it was a form of self-protection to understand her, yet an inner voice warned he was in dangerous territory.
So be it. He’d crossed a line with this woman and he couldn’t go back. Heneededto understand her.
‘It wasn’t just any dress, was it? It upset you and you weren’t yourself, the way you handled the situation.’
‘In what way?’
‘You were abrupt. Terse.’ At the time he’d thought that was typical of her, that she was spoiled and angry when she didn’t get exactly what she wanted. The way his mother had been when things didn’t work out to her satisfaction, even the smallest things. ‘That’s unusual for you. You make such an effort to put people at ease, particularly those who aren’t your social equals.’
Her eyebrows arched high. ‘Don’t be a snob, Fotis. Just because my father was a king doesn’t mean I’m superior to someone who makes beautiful clothing, or who can ferry me safely through peak hour Paris traffic.’
As if to emphasise that she’d made her point, she took a big bite of bread and tomato.
He watched her chew vigorously then swallow, but without any sign of enjoyment, as if the conversation had tainted the taste of the food. Her eyes flashed with annoyance yet still he couldn’t drag his eyes away. Her vibrant energy was captivating.
‘I agree. And I know that’s how you feel. Which is why I want to understand what distressed you.’ For shehadbeen distressed, he’d realised.
She looked away to where the indigo sea met the horizon. ‘Maybe I was annoyed at being lumbered with an unwanted bodyguard.’
‘I’m sure you were.’ She hadn’t held back with him. He’d been surprised at how much he’d enjoyed the cut and thrust of their battle of wills. ‘But I know you’d never take that anger out on women who were just doing their job.’
Her head swung around abruptly. Was that dismay in her eyes? ‘You think I was rude to them?’
‘Not rude. Emphatic. They were clearly disappointed.’
Slowly she nodded, then looked down at the food in her hand as if wondering how it got there. She put it down and reached for her wine, sipping slowly. Her mouth curled wryly.
‘You don’t miss much, do you? You must be very good at your job, searching out secrets and hiding them.’
He said nothing, just reached for another olive and popped it into his mouth. Eventually she sighed and took another sip of wine. ‘Okay, I’ll tell you.’ Her gaze snagged his. ‘But it’s private.’
‘I won’t tell anyone. Your secret will be safe with me.’
‘It’s not really my secret, but still…’ She paused as if weighing something up. ‘I feel like I’m the one who’s always sharing with you. You already know I had an experience like your friend Dimi’s. You know why I did what I did in New York.’
‘And you want to know something private about me.’ It was a statement, not a question.
She spread her hands wide. ‘Fair’s fair. You don’tneedto know about the dress to keep me safe, do you?’
