head and tossed it next to her robe. ‘But as I’m sure your father has told you, I’ve no pretensions to being a gentleman.’
‘So if you’re not an idiot and not a gentleman, what are you?’
‘Honest?’
He reached for his belt.
‘Stop! What do you think you’re doing?’
‘Joining you in that oversized hot tub while we discuss why your resignation is not going to happen,’ he said, then paused as he was about to slip the buckle. ‘Unless you’d rather get out and join me over here.’
They had been naked together for an entire night, no holds barred. He’d already watched her take a skinny dip, seen her run across the beach. Modesty was ridiculous but nothing would induce her to climb out and walk over there with him watching her every step of the way.
‘I didn’t think so,’ he said when she didn’t move, and the buckle was history. He flipped the button at his waist and dropped his trousers to reveal a pair of soft white boxers that clung to his hips and buttocks like cream to a peach...
‘That’s far enough!’
She’d had her hands inside that underwear, her hands on that tight backside as she’d undressed him. In her head he was already naked. In her head she wanted him naked, beside her, inside her...
‘Pass me my robe.’
He hooked it off the rock and held it out. She snatched it from him, wrapped it around herself, careless of the hem falling into the water.
She’d intended to climb out and go back up to the villa so that she could face Cleve wearing proper clothes, but he was already walking across rocks worn smooth by centuries of water running from the spring and foaming into the sea.
‘I was going to get out,’ she said.
‘Why?’ He found himself a comfortable spot to sit opposite her, stretched his arms out along the rocks and closed his eyes. ‘Your sister’s villa is a wreck but I’ll put up with it for this.’
‘Not necessary. You’ll be on the next ferry out of here.’
‘I don’t think so.’ His smile had a touch of the old Cleve Finch—like the devil in a good mood. ‘Jerry Parker’s been trying to sell me his Lear for months. We closed the deal yesterday afternoon and I thought I’d celebrate by taking a few days off and seeing what it could do.’
She frowned. ‘There isn’t a commercial airport on the island.’
‘No, but there’s a flying club. They gave me permission to land and one of the members gave me a lift here.’
The international camaraderie of flyers...
‘Who’s looking after Goldfinch?’
‘I promoted Lucy to Operations Manager.’
‘Oh... Well, not before time,’ she said. ‘She’s been doing the job for the last year.’
‘You might not be so keen when I tell you that she’s brought in Gavin Jones to cover your absence.’
‘Tell her to give him a contract because I’m not coming back.’
Cleve had always run an early morning circuit of the old wartime airfield that was Goldfinch’s base but since Rachel’s death he’d run longer and harder. His shoulders were wide, his body lean, the muscles in his limbs strongly defined and his long, elegant feet were just a toe length from her own.
Worse, while she was no longer naked, the thin silk of her robe was clinging to every inch of her body. Even in the warmth of the pool her nipples were like pebbles and she lowered herself deeper into the water.
He smiled. ‘Was the sea very cold?’
‘Why are you here, Cleve?’ she demanded.
‘Did you think I’d let you run away?’
‘I’m not—’
‘You pull a sickie, tell Lucy you’re going on holiday and leave your resignation on my desk. In my book that’s running away.’
Okay, he had a point but she’d needed time to work this out. To try and find a way to tell him about the baby without destroying him.
‘I was sick.’ Seriously. ‘And I didn’t want to tell Lucy before I told you that I’d got another job.’
‘First you run away and then you lie. There is no job.’
‘I’ve had plenty of offers.’
‘That I don’t doubt. I know of at least three companies who’ve attempted to lure you away from me in the last year. More money, the chance to get rated on larger aircraft, but you turned them all down.’
‘You knew?’
‘There are no secrets in this business. If you’d accepted a job offer I’d have heard about it ten minutes after you’d shaken hands.’ He looked across the pool at her, his face giving her no clue as to what he was really thinking. ‘If you’d got a great new job,’ he continued, ‘you’d have told the people you’ve worked with for years, colleagues who care about you, who would want to throw the kind of party that you’d never forget.’
‘I don’t need a hangover to remember you.’ He’d already given her the most precious gift... ‘I’ll never forget you. Any of you,’ she added quickly. ‘And the reason you haven’t heard about my new job is because I’m going to work for my father. In the design office.’ Because of course that was what she’d have to do. She was effectively grounded, not by regulations, but by the memory of what had happened to Rachel, and she’d have to live close to home so that she’d have baby support, at least until the baby was old enough for day care. ‘Jack was right,’ she added.
‘Are you telling me that you’ve caught the eye of some lucky man and you’re going to settle down and raise babies?’ His voice was low, but a muscle was ticcing in his throat. ‘Only forgive me for mentioning it, but a month ago the most exciting thing in your diary was a darts match in the village pub.’
‘Cleve...’
‘Does he know about the pity—’
‘Stop!’ She stood up, water streaming from her, the robe clinging to her body, her legs, the material no doubt transparent, before he could say the word. Turn what had happened into something dirty. ‘Not another word.’
She stepped out of the pool, grabbed her PJs and sandals and ran, dripping, back up the path to the house. And, lo, as if the day couldn’t get any worse, Matthew Stark was hovering by the open veranda door.
Terrific.
‘Did I trip over the bell and summon you like some genie, or is this a social call?’ she asked.
‘No. Yes,’ he said, flustered by her attack. ‘I was a bit concerned...’ His voice trailed away and she didn’t have to look around to know that Cleve was walking across the garden towards them. Matt’s face said it all.
‘Is this him?’ Cleve hadn’t bothered to put his trousers on over his wet underwear. Why would he?
‘I’m sorry,’ Matt said. ‘I thought you were on your own.’
‘So did I,’ she snapped. ‘How wrong can you get?’
‘A COUPLE OF WEEKS,’ she muttered as she grabbed her wheelie and retreated to the privacy of Sofia’s bedroom. A little time to get her head around an entirely new future. Was that too much to ask?
The shutters were closed and the light bulb didn’t respond to the switch but there was enough light filtering through the louvres to find