Stopping dead in his tracks, he turned. ‘Is that a challenge,señorita?’
‘Youmentioned competitive spirit,’ she reminded him.
The wait of a few short seconds felt endless to Rose, and then Raffa turned slowly to face her. ‘Race me?’ he queried.
‘Why not? I race my brothers.’
‘Head start?’ he offered.
‘If you think you need it.’ Without waiting for a reply, she launched herself backwards in the water. Raffa followed and, in a stroke or two, overtook her.
‘You should have mentioned you swam for Ireland,’ he teased when they reached the far side.
‘Good race,’ Rose gasped.
When Raffa sprang out, he dipped down again to take hold of her hand.
‘Thank you,’ she said as he hauled her out of the pool as if she weighed nothing.
‘You’re an excellent swimmer,’ he remarked as he tossed a towel in her direction.
‘And you’re an excellent liar. You beat me by half a pool’s length.’
‘Only because I was going slowly,’ Raffa teased, with a look that heated her from the inside out.
‘I’m challenging you to a rematch,’ she shouted after him.
‘I look forward to it.’
‘So long as you don’t allow the result of that swim-off to affect your judgement when it comes to my job?’
‘I enjoy swimming with you,’ he said, displaying the power in his formidable torso as he opened his arms wide. ‘We can have that race any time you like.’
‘I’ll take you up on that,’ Rose promised.
He grinned.
‘This is a fabulous way to spend your time,’ she remarked as they settled down on the sunbeds.
‘It is a great way to travel,’ Raffa agreed. ‘Efficient,’ he concluded with a thoughtful nod.
An incredulous laugh burst out of her. ‘Only a billionaire could say that. The rest of us catch the bus, or hope it doesn’t rain when we take the bike out of the shed.’
She was never quite sure how far she could push it, and it was a relief when Raffa laughed too.
Seeing his life through Rose’s eyes was like seeing it through a new and extraordinary prism. As he followed her gaze across the pristine deck, he noticed, for perhaps the first time, what she meant. Their surroundings were spectacular. And so was she. Unaffected by wealth or status, Rose was one of those truly rare things: a very nice person. And as such, he should give her a swerve. There was too much darkness inside him, too much unresolved anger and grief. Bad things happened to people he cared about, and it would be ridiculously easy to become involved with such an intriguing and attractive woman.
Was Rose so different beneath the surface?Didn’t she have shadows too?
He wouldn’t add to them. ‘Dinner’s at eight o’clock sharp,’ he reminded her.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll be there.’
He held her stare a dangerous beat too long, before springing up and walking away. ‘I have business calls to make,’ he called over his shoulder.
‘And I have swotting up to do, in case you feel like testing me this evening on the names of all those people you want me to meet.’
‘Later,’ he confirmed.
