dragged in a burning breath. ‘Owen, I—’
‘Shh,’ he said. ‘Your family is watching.’
He danced her away from the others and into the farthest corner of the deck, where the darkness of night lurked, encroaching on the lights and loud conviviality of the restaurant. Gently he swayed them both to the languid music, talking to her in low tones, telling her just to dance with him. Was it one song, was it three, or five? Time seemed suspended. He muttered her name, his breath stirring her hair, then nothing. And as she moved to his lead she fell deeper into his web.
When the band took a break, she took a moment in the bathroom to try to recover her aplomb—cooling her wrists under the rush of water from the cold tap. She shouldn’t have had those shots. She’d barely drunk a drop since, but she felt giddy. And as she looked at her reflection—at her large eyes, and the heightened colour in her cheeks and lips—she knew she didn’t want to recover her aplomb at all. She wanted to follow this madness to its natural conclusion. Nothing else seemed to matter any more—nothing but being with Owen. Just for while she was on this fantasy island.
She stepped out of the bathroom and saw him straighten from where he’d been leaning against the wall, eyes trained on her door. She walked over to meet him, but her path was intercepted by Vita, her sister.
‘Bella, where have you been all night? More to the point, who is that guy you’re dancing with?’ Vita looked astounded.
‘Owen is an old friend.’
‘How old?’ The disbelief on her sister’s face was mortifying.
‘Well, not that old.’ Bella looked up to where he stood now looming large and close, right behind Vita, his eyes keen. She just kept slim control of her voice and the hysterical giggle out of it. ‘You were born what, about thirty years ago, weren’t you?’
‘Somewhere thereabouts.’ He took the last couple of steps so he stood beside her, circling his arm around her waist as naturally as if he’d done it a thousand times.
Then he smiled at her, a glowing, deeply intimate smile that had Bella blinking as much as Vita. His fingers pressed her slightly closer to him and inside she shook. He held her even more firmly.
When he turned his head to Vita, the smile lost its intimacy but was no less potent. ‘You must be Bella’s sister, the beautiful bride. Congratulations.’
Vita blinked and took more than a second to recover her manners. ‘Thank you…er…Owen. Will we be seeing you tomorrow? You’re more than welcome.’
‘Well…’ he glanced back to Bella and she saw the laughter dancing in his eyes ‘…I’d love to be there, but Bella wasn’t sure…’
‘Oh, if you’re a friend of Bella’s, of course you’re welcome.’
Bella turned sharply, narrowed her gaze on Vita. Did she stress the ‘if’?
‘Thank you.’ Owen closed off the conversation smoothly. And with a nod drew Bella back outside and threaded them through the dancing couples.
Bella went into his arms hardly thinking about what she was doing. Melancholy had struck. Vita had seemed stunned that Bella might actually have a gorgeous guy wanting to be with her. They were probably all watching agog—amazed at the development. Oh, why did she have to be here with her perfect sister and her perfect family—when she was so obviously the odd one out?
He must have read her thoughts because he pulled her close and looked right in her eyes. ‘She’s not that perfect.’
She didn’t believe him. Her little sister, by a year, had always been the one to do things how they were supposed to—the way her father wanted.
‘She didn’t wish you a happy birthday,’ he said softly.
Bella sighed. ‘She’s preoccupied.’ And she was. This wedding was a mammoth operation.
Owen frowned, clearly thinking that it wasn’t a good enough excuse. Warmth flooded her. He was so damn attractive.
‘So how many candles should you be blowing out tonight, Bella?’
‘Twenty-four.’ She hadn’t the energy for joking any more—she was too focused on her feelings for him. And all of a sudden the giddiness took over—she couldn’t slow the speed of her heartbeat; her breath was knocked from her lungs. She stumbled.
His hands tightened on her arms. ‘You’re tired.’
Tired was the last thing she was feeling.
But he stepped back, breaking their physical contact. ‘I’ll walk you to your room.’
Disappointment flooded her. She’d been having a wonderful night and she didn’t want it to come to an end. But it had—with Vita’s interruption the fantasy had been shattered. And Owen was already moving them across the deck, towards the stairs that led to the sandy beach.
She glanced up into his face, hoping for a sign of that glint, only to find it shuttered. Blandly unreadable. The sense of disappointment swelled.
As they reached the steps, Celia stepped in front of them.
‘You’re not leaving already?’ she asked, full of vivaciousness.
‘It’s a big day tomorrow. Bella needs to turn in now,’ Owen answered before she had the chance.
Celia turned her stunning gaze from him to Bella and the glance became stabbing. ‘You’d better put some cream on that sunburn or you’ll look like a zebra tomorrow.’
Oh, she just had to get that jibe in, didn’t she? Bella smarted.
Owen turned slightly. Slowly, carefully, he gave Bella such an intense once-over that she could feel the impact as if he were really touching her, a bold caress. But it was his eyes that kissed—from the tip of her nose all the way to her toes. And then he did touch her. Lifting his hand, with a firm finger, he stroked the red stripe on her chest—from the top of it near her collarbone, down the angled line to where it disappeared into her blouse. His eyes followed the path, and then went lower, seeming to be able to see everything, regardless of the material.
‘Don’t worry.’ He spoke slowly. ‘I’ll make sure she takes care of it.’
Bella stared up at him, fascinated by the flare in his eyes. The flare that had been there from that moment when she’d turned her head to his voice as she’d sat at the bar. It had flashed now and then as they’d talked and laughed their way through dinner. But now it was back and bigger than before and she couldn’t help her response. Every muscle, every fibre, every cell tightened within her. As he looked at her like that, his hunger was obvious to anyone. She’d never felt more wanted than she did in that moment and she was utterly seduced. The whole of his attention was on her and the whole of her responded. But she wasn’t just willing, she was wanting.
She dimly heard a cough, but when she finally managed to tear her gaze from his, Celia had already walked off. Bella managed a vague smile after her general direction, but then, compelled by the pull between them, she walked with Owen—barely aware of her cousin’s and her sister’s gazes following her. She no longer cared. She was too focused on the burn of her skin where his finger had touched, and the excitement burgeoning now as he held her hand and matched her step for step.
CHAPTER FOUR
DOWN on the sand the breeze lifted and the drop in temperature checked Bella.
‘Where are you staying?’ Owen asked, his voice oddly gentle.
‘One of the studios round the back.’ She wasn’t in one of the luxury villas, but a tiny unit in a building with several other tiny units. It was still nice. It didn’t quite have the view and door opening directly onto the beach that the villas did, but it didn’t have the price tag either.
‘Show me.’ Still gentle.
But her mind teased her with what