they were still beautiful.
‘Punishing me, not you,’ he said.
‘But still...’ She stared at him with interest for a good few moments. ‘You must have really rattled her cage. But you did, by staying away so long.’
She wasn’t frightened of speaking her mind. The more he saw of her, the more she intrigued him. His original intention had been to send her sailing away from the island on a raft made of money. He doubted now he’d met her that she’d stand for that. She was intelligent and defiant, and also extremely attractive.
That sort of interest could get in his way. He couldn’t allow distractions like this girl to knock him off course. She was right about the will throwing everything into chaos. Doña Anna, of all people, should have known his limitations. He could make money hand over fist, but he’d make a lousy parent. Why try to saddle some poor child with a father who was incapable of feeling?
‘We’d better go to the house,’ he said, turning to the main point of his visit.
‘What? No,’ she said.
‘I beg your pardon?’ He swung around to see her digging her little toes into the sand.
‘You should have contacted me in the usual way—to arrange a meeting that didn’t involve a confrontation on the beach at dawn,’ she explained, frowning at him.
He dipped his head to hide a smile. People had been known to try and bribe his PA to secure a few minutes of his time. Rosie Clifton, on the other hand, was only short of his aunt’s walking stick to wave in his face as she did her best to drive him away. But her time was up now. However appealing he might find her, he was a busy man.
‘I said, no!’
He gazed at her with incredulity as she took the few steps necessary to dodge in front of him and block his way. ‘It’s not convenient,’ she explained, holding her ground.
Not convenient for him to tour his house, his island? An astonishing number of doors might have opened in the recent past for orphaned Rosie Clifton, but no door had ever closed in his face. He would visit his house, and he would tour his island. And then he would decide what to do about the girl.
‘Perhaps another time?’ she tempered, reacting to his thunderous expression no doubt. ‘Some time soon?’ she offered with the hint of a smile.
Her charm was wasted on him. ‘Some time now,’ he insisted, moving past her.
HE SHOULD HAVE known she’d race after him. When she grabbed hold of his arm, he felt the power of those tiny fingers as clearly as if they were stroking his groin. The thought of those hands clutching him in the throes of passion was enough to stop him dead in his tracks. Her touch was electrifying. And then there was her spirit. Rosie Clifton might not possess a fraction of his wealth or power, but she knew no fear. It was impossible for him not to admire her just a little.
‘You can come up to the house another time,’ she said, still hanging on to his arm as she stared up into his face. ‘We’ll make a proper appointment. I promise.’
‘Will we?’ he demanded with irony.
As he stared down her amethyst eyes darkened, confirming his growing suspicion that the attraction between them was mutual. And inconvenient, he reminded himself firmly. He wasn’t here for seduction. He had business with Rosie Clifton.
‘Neither of us is dressed for a formal meeting,’ she pointed out. ‘We won’t feel comfortable. And when there are such important things to discuss...’
He awarded her a point for a good, persuasive argument.
‘So...?’ Her beautifully drawn lips parted as she waited for his answer.
‘So I’ll come back,’ he agreed.
‘Thank you,’ she exclaimed with relief.
It was an error on his part. He had given her chance to prepare for the next time. His aunt must be laughing in her grave. Doña Anna couldn’t have planned this better, placing two people with the same aim—one an idealist, and the other a business mogul—in direct conflict with each other. Inwardly, he huffed a smile of admiration. He had to admit, this sort of mischief was right up her street.
‘Before you go...’ She nibbled on her lip.
‘Yes?’
‘I want you to know that I really loved your aunt.’
He shrugged. Should he care? Was she waiting for him to make some comment to echo this? He examined his feelings scrupulously and came up with nothing. The numbness inside him had been there since childhood, he supposed. He didn’t know how he felt about his aunt, though he might have known that nothing short of a dynasty would satisfy Doña Anna.
‘Your aunt brought you up, didn’t she?’ Rosie pressed.
‘Only because my parents preferred the fleshpots of Monte Carlo,’ he said with an impatient gesture that told her to leave the subject alone.
‘That must have hurt you,’ she said gently, as if she cared.
‘It was a long time ago.’ He frowned, hoping that would put her off.
It seemed to. She didn’t say anything more on the subject, but she looked at him with something close to pity, which annoyed him even more.
‘Your aunt said she threw you out when you were a teenager.’ She laughed, seeming to find this amusing. ‘She said it was the best thing she ever did for you—but then she was always teaching people lessons, including me.’
‘But not the type of lesson that would include holding your tongue,’ he murmured dryly.
She ignored him and continued. ‘Doña Anna said old money doesn’t last for ever, and that it’s up to each new generation to make its own luck in life. Which you’ve done in shedloads.’ Her eyes widened with admiration.
Only her innocence and complete lack of sophistication could allow for this, he thought as she went on to list his credentials. ‘First you made a fortune in the tech world, and then you made a second fortune building six-star hotels across the world with state-of-the-art golf courses attached.’ She frowned. ‘I imagine that’s why your aunt left me half the island—to stop you rampaging over here. Rumour says you’re a billionaire,’ she added with startling candour.
‘I don’t much care about that.’
‘She told me that too,’ she called after him as he began to stroll away from her towards the sea.
‘Was there anything she didn’t tell you?’ he said, stopping in his tracks.
‘Oh, I’m sure there were lots of things she left out...’
He could only hope.
‘Did she speak about me often?’ he asked. He was suddenly filled with a need to know. He felt a pang of regret as he asked the question, which was a first for him.
‘She did talk about you—quite a lot,’ Rosie revealed brightly, and with no malice he could detect. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve upset you,’ she said as he turned away.
‘You haven’t upset me.’ Pausing beside one of the gargantuan rocks on the beach, he leaned back against its smooth surface. Like it or not, the girl had brought the past back into clear focus.
‘I should get back,’ she said.
‘Do you swim here every day?’ he said, turning to look at her. Suddenly, he wasn’t so keen for her to go.
‘Every morning—I have done ever since I arrived on the island. Such a luxury,’ she said. Rolling her head back, she closed her eyes as if she was reliving each and every moment she’d spent