ex and her mother’s second husband, and she had plenty of reasons not to trust him. Hadn’t he already indicated that he was an uncaring playboy—the kind of man who took what he wanted simply because his money and position allowed him to be as mercenary as he liked?
Yet here she was in his isolated sanctuary on a remote Scottish island, miles away from anywhere civilised, and until the boatman Rory met her tomorrow to take her back to the mainland she had to make the best of things. She’d sleep a whole lot better tonight if she didn’t antagonise the man.
Despite all of that, she couldn’t help recalling that crazily unreal moment when her gaze had locked with Gene’s and molten desire had made her feel frighteningly weak. For a shocking instant there had been the urge to abandon all reason and surrender to the wild and wanton nature of it... How was any sane person able to explain such a thing?
Rose could only put it down to the fact that her guard was down after all the stress she’d endured recently. Philip was still in the hospital, and out of the blue he’d decided to sell the property to Gene.
One thing was certain: she would do everything in her power to make sure that a repetition of that crazy moment between them wouldn’t happen. In fact she probably wouldn’t rest easy until Gene had signed the documents she’d brought and deposited the funds for the sale into Philip’s account. Then and only then would she be convinced that she’d done the right thing in coming here on behalf of the man who wasn’t just her employer and mentor but her surrogate uncle as well.
* * *
Like many people who loved and appreciated craftsmanship in all its forms, after watching Gene effortlessly put the most sublime meal together Rose had to attest that the man was a supreme artisan.
It had been fascinating to watch him work with his hands. Whether it was slicing onions on a chopping board, rubbing spices between his fingers and sprinkling them into the food as he stood over the stove, or working the delicious ingredients he’d put together in a pan with two or three economical stirs, she’d found herself becoming more and more intrigued by the man. With his handsome profile diligently focused, he looked as if he inhabited another world when he was cooking, and the so-called commonplace activity somehow made him seem much more human...
‘Should be ready soon—would you like a taste?’
In a near trance where she stood by Gene’s side, Rose glanced up at him in surprise. He scooped some food from the aromatic pan onto a metal spoon and offered it to her. She didn’t need to be asked twice.
His compellingly blue eyes glinted knowingly as she expressed her pleasure at what she’d tasted with an appreciative groan.
‘That’s amazing! I’ve never tasted anything so delicious in my life...’
‘Haven’t you? That makes me want to give you more delicious things to try.’
She felt her skin flame red, and a mixture of embarrassment and irritation throbbed through her.
But then Gene stepped towards her.
‘You’ve got some sauce at the side of your mouth...let me get it for you.’
With the pad of his thumb, he wiped it away. But it was no simple gesture. The way he lingered over the task made it seem like some kind of erotic foreplay, and as he pressed his flesh against the side of Rose’s lips it was as though he ignited a flame that wouldn’t easily be extinguished.
There wasn’t a single part of her body that didn’t feel restless and hot. Trapped by his gaze, all she could do was stare helplessly. But at the same time her intuition alerted her to the danger... What was she thinking? Dear God, she was behaving as if she was enjoying his attention. One thing she was sure of: Gene Bonnaire didn’t need another entranced woman pandering to his already inflated ego.
Stepping hastily away, she grabbed some kitchen towel and dabbed at her lips, unconsciously seeking to obliterate his touch.
Watching her, he released a low-voiced chuckle. ‘I hope you’re not feeling nervous around me, Rose? I told you I don’t bite...’ Levelling his chiselled jaw at her, he paused and smiled. ‘That is unless you want me to?’
Rose’s heart thundered so hard in her chest that she wondered he didn’t hear it.
As adrenaline shot through her system on a dizzying white water rapid she straightened her shoulders and aimed for a withering glare. ‘You know, you might think that all women enjoy your insincere flirtatious technique...that they should even be grateful for the attention...but I can assure you that I don’t. That said, I think I should go and lay the table while you finish cooking the food.’
Opening a drawer that she’d learned was full of silver cutlery she grabbed the necessary knives and forks and closed it again. Not waiting for further comment, she strode out of the kitchen with her head held deliberately high, praying as she went through the door that she’d remember where to locate the dining room...
BRINGING A BOTTLE of Scotch whisky over to the coffee table, Gene poured some into the two waiting glass tumblers. His reluctant house guest was sitting with her shapely legs tucked beneath her on the couch, a satin cushion clutched to her belly, her transfixed gaze focused on the scene that played outside the windows as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
He’d witnessed a few wild storms since he’d built his sanctuary but never one quite like this. The thunder was akin to an earth-shattering sonic boom, whose power shook the walls of the futuristic dwelling he was so proud of. And the rain... The rain was like an enraged wild river that had burst its banks and was ruthlessly deluging everything in its wake. It was impossible to see where the sky ended and the ocean began.
And, like the most magnificent firework display ever conceived, the lightning had come.
They’d been expecting it for hours now, and had sensed the atmosphere growing thicker and thicker. It had grown so thick that something had to cut through it to lessen the tension.
Having arrived at last, the electrifying bolts that ripped through the atmosphere with their eerily bright light did exactly that. But the deafening noise and fury even made Eugene’s heart jolt. Sensing a muscle tighten in the side of his jaw, he glanced at his companion. It was plain to see that she was more than a little jumpy.
‘Rose?’ Feeling an uncharacteristic sense of concern, he leant towards her and pressed a glass into her hand. ‘I’d advise you to drink some of this. Not just because it’s the best malt whisky in the world, and I only ever drink the best, but it might help calm your nerves.’
Although her hand shook a little, Rose tipped the glass back and gulped down some of the contents. Almost instantly her incandescent violet eyes flooded with tears. Then she started to cough.
Gene reached round to pat her on the back, his lips shaping an amused smile. ‘You drank that down a bit too quickly, sweetheart. Make the next sip a little slower, hmm...?’
Returning his wry look, she commented, ‘I’ll bear that in mind. It’s pretty powerful stuff, isn’t it?’
‘This particular blend is smoky, sweet and smooth. But I don’t doubt to a novice it can still pack a punch.’
Even as he was speaking a fierce display of dazzling lightning lit up the room, highlighting everything in full cinematic glory.
‘Oh my God!’ Visibly shocked, Rose all but threw herself against him.
Even though he knew it was purely a reflex reaction, instigated by fear, Gene was inordinately pleased that in that instant she genuinely seemed to need him. He’d never experienced anything remotely like the feeling before, and it made his heart race a little.
As the gentle scent of her summery perfume made provocative inroads into his senses he draped his hard-muscled