the pohutukawa trees.’
The Duke’s brother, or The Duke? Hani repressed a smile. ‘I’m happy for you to play here. Just come and tell me when you’re going home again.’
With a whoop they set off, except for the small blond boy, whose name was Jamie. ‘Why have you got green eyes?’ he asked, staring at her.
‘Because my mother had green eyes.’ Hani repressed a familiar pang of pain. She and her brother had both inherited those eyes; every time she looked in the mirror she thought of Rafiq.
Surely she should be reconciled to never seeing him again by now!
Jamie nodded. ‘They’re nice. Why are you staying here?’
‘I’m on holiday.’ The day after her last attack of fever the principal had told her that if she didn’t take up the offer to go to New Zealand—‘long enough to get this fever out of your system’—the charity that ran the school couldn’t accept responsibility for her welfare. Her air fares would be paid, and the beach house where she’d convalesce was rent-free.
Without exactly stating that they’d terminate her employment if she didn’t go, he’d implied it so strongly she’d been persuaded to reluctantly leave the safety of Tukuulu.
Curiosity satisfied, Jamie said nonchalantly, ‘See you later,’ and scampered off to join the others.
Hani sat back down in the comfortable wicker chair on the deck. Airy and casually luxurious, the beach house was surprisingly big, with glass doors in every room opening out onto a wide wooden deck that overlooked the cove. Her landlord, an elderly man, had met her flight the previous night and driven her here to what he’d called a bach.
Remembering his very English accent, she smiled. No doubt those cut-glass vowels were why the children had decided he must be some sort of aristocrat.
After introducing himself very formally as Arthur Wellington, he’d said, ‘The refrigerator and the pantry have been stocked with staples. If you need anything else, do ring the number on the calendar beside the telephone.’
Hani thanked him for that, but realised now that she’d missed telling him how much she appreciated being given the opportunity to stay here.
She’d do that when she paid him for the groceries he’d supplied.
On a long, soft sigh she took her gaze away from the children long enough to examine the cove. Sand like amber suede curved against the kingfisher expanse of water. Squinting against the bright sky, Hani eyed the headland where the landlord lived. Its steep slopes were hidden by more of the dark-leafed trees that lined the beach, their massive limbs swooping down over the sand.
A formal house to match her landlord’s formal manner? She hoped not. It would look incongruous in this pristinely beautiful scene.
Loud shrieks from the beach dragged her attention back to the game taking place in front of the bach, one that involved much yelling, more laughter, and some frenzied racing around. For the first time in months she felt a stirring of energy.
Smiling, checking that little Jamie didn’t get too close to the water, she failed to notice an intruder until he was almost at the cottage. The soft clink of harness alerting her, she swivelled around and saw a horse—a fine bay, strong enough to take its tall, powerfully built rider without effort.
Her startled gaze took in the rider. He sat easily on his mount—but that wasn’t why her pulses revved into overdrive.
For a second—just long enough to terrify and delight her—he reminded her of her brother. Rafiq had the same coiled grace of strength and litheness, the same relaxed control of his mount.
The same air of authority.
Then she recalled when she’d seen this man before, and an odd, baseless panic froze the breath in her throat. In spite of the bout of fever she’d been suffering when she met him on Tukuulu, those hard-hewn features and hooded eyes were sharply etched into her memory.
As was the feel of his arms around her…And the knowledge that he’d stripped her saturated clothes from her and somehow managed to get her into the loose shift she wore at night.
What the hell was he doing here?
He swung down, looped the reins over a fencepost and opened the gate to come towards her. Subliminally intimidated by the arrogant angle of his head and the smooth, lethal grace of his stride, Hani forced herself to her feet, stiffening her spine and her knees.
Although tall for a woman, she couldn’t match him. Her chin came up; unsmiling, breath locking in her throat, she watched him approach while a feverish awareness lifted the invisible hairs on the back of her neck.
He was—well, gorgeous was the only word she could come up with. Except that gorgeous made her think of male models, and this man looked like no male model she’d ever seen. That effortless, inborn air of command hardened his already bold features into an intimidating mask of force and power, emphasised by a cold steel-blue gaze and a thinning of his subtly sensuous mouth.
He was handsome enough to make any woman’s heart shake—even one as frozen as hers—but something uncompromising and formidable about him set off alarms in every nerve.
He had to be The Duke. A swift stab of apprehension screwed her nerves even tighter. Felipe, the man she’d once thought she loved, had called himself a French count.
It was stupid of her, but the children’s innocent misconception seemed somehow ominous.
Hani knew she should be relieved when he looked at her with a total lack of male interest. Scarily, she wasn’t.
OK, so the last thing she wanted was a man to see her as a sexual being, but…On Tukuulu he’d noticed her as a woman; now he looked at her with complete indifference.
And that stung.
Trying to keep this meeting on a sensible basis, she said warily, ‘Hello. I didn’t realise that you owned this place. Thank you so much for letting me stay here.’
‘I hoped to see you looking a bit better,’ he said curtly.
‘I am much better.’ Yes, her voice was fine—crisp, just as cool and impersonal as his, a far cry from her slurred tone that night at the ceremony. Meeting his merciless survey with an assumption of confidence, she hid her uncertainty with a shrug. ‘Another thing I have to thank you for is your rescue of me.’
One black brow lifted. ‘It was nothing; I happened to be the closest person around.’
Heat tinged her skin. Trying to sound professional and assured, she said crisply, ‘It was very kind of you. I don’t remember much—’ only the sound of his voice, calm and reassuring, and the wonderful comfort of his arms when he’d held her until the shivering stopped ‘—but I know I didn’t change myself.’
His eyes narrowed slightly. ‘Once the fever had broken I went back to the school dance floor, but everyone had gone by then. It didn’t seem a good idea for you to sleep in wet clothes, so I removed your dress.’ In a coldly formidable tone, he finished, ‘I behaved as a brother might have.’
Colour burned into her skin. Hoping her words mingled the right
