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She worked her way along a row of elaborate jars containing some gorgeous-smelling oils and lotions, sniffing each in turn. A shower or bath, maybe both, really appealed. She felt grubby and creased, but that was probably in comparison to Leandro, who seemed to be creaseless in every way; he was just that sort of person.

She glanced at the jacket she had slung across the back of a chair while she’d brushed her hair and made running repairs to her make-up, but left it there before taking a deep breath. She opened the door and began to explore.

Leandro’s private suite was several times bigger than the castle at home, at least the habitable part. This bedroom, where her luggage had already been decanted into a lavishly large dressing room, was almost scant in décor, the furniture antique but pale, the colours muted and the artwork on the walls eclectic.

‘My father had a snooker table in here.’

Her heart began to pump faster as she slowly turned. ‘You’ve had a shower… If I’d known—’

‘You’d have joined me?’ He dragged a hand through his dark towel-dried hair. He’d changed out of his suit and shirt and was now wearing a thin black cashmere sweater teamed with black jeans.

She didn’t react to the silky provocation, or the wicked gleam in his dark eyes, at least that was what she told herself.

‘I’d have had one too…alone.’

‘I thought you might have got lost.’

His presence set every nerve in her body on edge, some nerves more than others.

She felt colour rise in her cheeks at the acknowledgement.

This constant battle was utterly exhausting. She could see how some women mistook sexual attraction of the gut-punching, brain-numbing variety for love; luckily, she could separate the two. So, just what is your problem, Elsie? What are you fighting and why?

‘It’s a strong possibility,’ she said, struggling to inject a humorous inflection into her voice as she closed down the internal dialogue. ‘I’ll probably need satnav assistance.’ A frown flickered across her face and her laugh sounded slightly manic. ‘This place is massive.’

He was watching her expression. As far as he could tell, she seemed utterly oblivious to the fact that everything she felt was written there. Leandro found it shocking that anyone could allow their emotions this close to the surface.

‘I’ll give you the guided tour tomorrow. To be honest, I rarely use the state rooms, just this wing. I had the administrative centre moved to a separate building. I like space, I do not enjoy the feeling of being closed in.’

‘Well, you have more room than most to stretch your legs.’ And long legs they were too. She willed her eyes not to drop. Instead, she didn’t block the image of him standing dripping by the hotel pool all those years ago, the muscular thighs and sprinkling of dark body hair. To her shame, it was not the first time she’d indulged in recalling the image.

‘True,’ he conceded. ‘Actually, I have Franco’s team looking into the logistics of turning some of the outbuildings into studios for local craftsmen, and we are considering allowing exhibitions to be held in the ballroom to showcase local talent.’

‘And what does the delightful Count Tomaz think of that?’ she asked, the irony in her voice bone-dry.

There was answering humour in his eyes as he responded. ‘I haven’t asked him,’ he admitted. ‘But we have installed some defibrillators at strategic points around the building, so covering all eventualities,’ he admitted with a poker face.

Elsie’s peal of laughter died away and their eyes locked. In the space of a heartbeat the atmosphere, the heavy heart-thudding electricity she could almost taste, filled the space between them.

‘Why are we dancing around this?’ He took a step towards her and she didn’t retreat.

She tried to fan the flames of indignation, focusing on the insolence in his voice, but all she could see was the hunger in his eyes and feel the weight in her limbs.

‘I know the situation is not without its complications, but this is just sex.’

‘Just sex,’ she echoed in a strained whisper. ‘Do you have to be so…c…crude?’

He was now standing close enough for her to feel the warmth of his body. Her nose flared in response to the musky clean scent of his skin. It was hard to think straight, think at all, when in such close proximity to the raw masculinity.

‘I would like to be a lot more crude, and I think you would enjoy it very much,’ he purred. He smiled, looking predatory and incredibly gorgeous.

Oh my God, I am in serious trouble!

‘Is this your idea of foreplay?’ she asked; the mocking note failed to materialise. Turning it into an unrealistic cough, she moistened her upper lip with the tip of her tongue, an action that drew and held his dark stare, raising the invisible downy hairs over her entire body.

‘I’m open to suggestions.’ The suggestive purr made her shiver. ‘You really do have the most incredible skin.’ Fascination etched in every line of his strong-boned features, he traced the curve of her cheek then down the length of her neck with a brown finger without touching her skin.

Her eyes half closed as her heart tried to batter its way out of her chest. The tactile tingling under her skin made her tremble as she tried to remember how to breathe.