WARREN
Anthony is waiting for me when we get back to the villa. Leoni walks straight past us, no eye contact, and no hesitation as she heads upstairs.
We both watch her go.
Anthony folds his arms. “She okay?”
“Not really.” I rub a hand over my jaw. “I’m distracted, pissed off, and apparently doing a shit job of hiding it.”
I move onto the balcony and shut the door behind us. Anthony swept the villa twice, found nothing, but I still can’t shake the feeling of being watched in every room.
“She’s confused about why I brought her here,” I mutter. “And I can’t exactly tell her she’s in danger back home. But I also can’t take her on romantic dinners or stroll around the market holding hands when Toni’s men are everywhere, watching and reporting back.”
Anthony shrugs. “It’s not unusual for a man to screw his secretary. Toni wouldn’t blink.”
“Or,” I shoot back, “he’ll see what she means to me in about two seconds and use her to keep me in line. I need to get this over with so I can stop looking over my damn shoulder.” I exhale sharply. “Did you get the reports together?”
He hands me a file. “Profit projections, margins, timelines. Everything he needs to say yes. And honestly? He’d be an idiot to turn this down. Your father was the one who ruined the deal the first time, not Toni. That actually plays in your favour.” He claps a hand on my shoulder. “And you’ve got a few hours before dinner. Spend them with Leoni. You donotwant to take her up that mountain tonight if she’s pissed.”
He’s right.
I head upstairs and find her on the bed, tapping on her phone. Something about the sight irritates me. It’s irrational, and maybe territorial, but I force myself to ignore it.
She glances at me when I enter, her expression blank. No smile. Nothing. She rolls onto her side, putting her back to me.
I swallow the urge to demand to know who she’s messaging. Instead, I pull swim shorts from my case like everything’s fine.
“The pool looks inviting,” I say lightly. “Wanna join me?”
“No.”
I find a swimsuit folded neatly on top of her things. Afullswimsuit. Plain. Simple. Modest. Something that won’t have me gouging out Anthony’s eyes if he so much as glances her way.
Perfect.
I place it at the end of the bed. “I’ll leave that here for when you change your mind,” I say firmly, slipping out of my clothes and into my swim shorts.
She doesn’t answer, so I head downstairs and dive into the pool, forcing my mind onto something simple, like breathing, strokes and rhythm. Anything other than Leoni’s cold shoulder or the storm waiting on that mountain later.
I’m halfway through my sixth length when movement catches my eye.
I turn and inhale an entire lungful of water. I surface choking, spluttering violently as I wipe water from my face, and blink again, because there’sno wayshe’s wearing what I think she’s wearing.
She didn’t choose the full swimsuit.Not even close.Instead, she’s standing by the edge of the pool in a bikini so white it should be illegal. A bikini Iknowwill turn see-through the moment it gets wet.The top is a simple band across her chest, no straps, nothing to secure it if she so much as breathes wrong. Her breasts look as though they’re one deep inhale away from spilling out. But the bottoms—Christ.
The tiny triangle at the front is a lie. Adistraction. Because when she turns, I see the truth. It’s a thong. A scrap of white fabric and arrogance, the string not covering anything, because both arse cheeks are on full display like she picked the damn thing specifically to punish me.
Heat punches straight through my spine. She knows exactly what she’s doing.
She stands there, pretending to adjust the strap at her hip, the sun catching her skin, her hair falling over one shoulder, and her smug attitude playing out across her expression.
Anthony steps out onto the terrace, eyes lifting from his laptop, then he freezes, his eyes on her, wide with shock.
“No.” The word tears out of me, sharp, immediate. I haul myself out of the pool, water streaming down my body.
Leoni glances over her shoulder, all wide-eyed innocence. “Did you want something?” she asks him, actually fluttering her lashes.
Anthony looks like he’s staring into the sun, his eyes going wider and unblinking.
