A drink would be good.’ The tension in his voice reflected the pain he was fighting. ‘Whisky is in the cupboard in the kitchen and you’ll find glasses on the top shelf. Join me. We’ll have drinks on the terrace if I can get myself there.’
Drinks on the terrace?
Tasha felt a flash of alarm. No way. Lounging on the deck, watching the sun go down over golden sand was far too intimate a scenario. That wasn’t what she had in mind at all. This was about inflicting pain, not taking pleasure. Not that she thought she was in any danger of falling for him again, but as a scientist reviewing the evidence she had to concede that it had happened before.
‘A drink sounds like a good idea, but forget the terrace. You only just sat down, and if you keep moving you’ll just make the pain worse.’ Whisky, she thought, laced with arsenic or something equally poisonous. Or maybe just whisky along with the powerful painkiller and antibiotics he’d been prescribed. It would knock him unconscious and then she wouldn’t need to worry about falling for his dangerous charm.
Not that he seemed charming right now. Pain had made him irritable and moody and he leaned his head back against the sofa, jaw clenched, eyes closed. ‘I’ll have it straight. No water. No ice.’
In other words, nothing to dilute the effects of the alcohol.
Tasha walked into the kitchen, knowing that every movement she made was being followed by those fierce black eyes. She remembered him telling her that his ancestors had been warriors, descendents of the Romans who had once colonised the Mediterranean island of San Savarre that was his home. It was all too easy to imagine Alessandro Cavalieri in warrior mode.
Irritated with herself, shrugging off those thoughts, she opened cupboards until she found whisky. Closing her hand around the bottle, she hesitated. It would be really bad for him to drink with the tablets, but Alessandro didn’t seem to care. Clearly he was seeking oblivion. He’d drink whisky and to hell with the consequences. In fact, he’d probably enjoy the experience of alcohol and painkillers. Tasha put the bottle back. She wasn’t here to do what he wanted. She wasn’t here to make his life comfortable. It was already comfortable enough.
She glanced around her. The kitchen was like something from an upmarket show home. Light poured through a glass atrium and reflected off shiny black granite work surfaces. It was smooth and streamlined, designed for practicality as well as show.
‘I could almost want to cook in a place like this,’ Tasha muttered, yanking open the door of the tall American fridge and staring at the contents. ‘Nothing but champagne and beer—typical man. What about food?’ Exploring the lower shelves, she found some mouldy cheese and a dead lettuce, which she removed and dropped in the bin. ‘Good job I went to the supermarket.’
While the ambulance crew had been preparing Alessandro for the transfer home, she’d taken herself into St Piran on a shopping trip for provisions. She’d spent several hours carefully selecting items to help her with her plan, thinking carefully about what would help her cause. Abandoning the idea of using anything from his fridge, she reached for her bag of supplies and pulled out a packet of herbal tea.
Perfect.
She’d yet to meet a man who enjoyed herbal tea.
Humming happily, Tasha boiled water and found two mugs.
Carrying the tea back to the living area, she put the tray down on the low glass table and waited expectantly.
The wait was worth it. His reaction was everything she’d hoped for.
Alessandro stared in disbelief at the pale yellow liquid steaming in the mugs. ‘What the hell is that?’
‘Herbal tea,’ Tasha said earnestly. She groped around for something convincing to say about it. ‘It will be good for you. It boosts the immune system and works as a—as a—as an internal cleanser.’ As a highly trained clinician, she couldn’t believe she was spouting such unscientific nonsense and she braced herself for Alessandro to burst out laughing and demand she show him the data to support her claims, but he didn’t. Instead he glowered at her, his eyes narrowing to two dangerous slits.
‘Is this a joke? This is your idea of taking care of me?’
‘Absolutely. I’m doing what’s good for you.’
‘Whisky would be good for me.’
Tasha made an attempt at a timid smile. Given that she’d never done ‘timid’ before in her life, she was reasonably pleased with the result. ‘Don’t be angry,’ she coaxed. ‘I remembered afterwards that the whisky won’t go well with painkillers and antibiotics so I went for tea instead. I’m supposed to be looking after your health, remember? That’s why I’m here. Try it. It’s delicious. Caffeine-free and so healthy.’
His gaze slid from her eyes to the contents of the mug. ‘It looks like something that’s come straight from the drains.’
‘Really? I find it delicious.’ To prove her point, Tasha took an enormous gulp of hers and just about managed not to spit it out. Utterly vile. ‘Mmm. Are you sure I can’t tempt you?’
‘Is that a serious question?’ The dangerous gleam in his eyes was a reminder to Tasha not to underestimate him. He wasn’t tame. And he wasn’t a pussy cat. He was a man who was used to controlling everyone and everything around him.
And it was clear to her now that he really didn’t want anyone there. He’d only agreed to it to facilitate his early discharge.
She gave a faint smile. That was good, wasn’t it? She didn’t want him to want her here. That was the whole point. She was here to make his life difficult and uncomfortable while proving to herself that his charm had just been the creation of her hormonal teenage brain. So far she was doing well.
Apart from that initial jolt she’d felt when she’d first seen him lounging in the hospital bed, she had herself well under control.
She ignored the tiny voice inside herself that warned her she was playing with fire—that however dangerous he’d been as a boy, the threat was magnified now he was a man.
Handing him a glass of water, she kept up the sympathy. ‘Take your antibiotics and painkillers now and then you can have another lot before you go to bed.’ Unable to switch off the doctor inside her, she frowned at his leg. ‘You should keep that elevated. Wait a minute...’ She grabbed three cushions from one of the sofas and carefully repositioned his leg. Although she was gentle, she knew the pain had to be agonising, but Alessandro didn’t murmur and she felt a flash of grudging respect. At least he wasn’t a wimp or a whiner. ‘How does that feel?’
‘As if a horse trampled on it?’ His dry humour bought a smile to her lips but she killed it instantly, unsettled by the ease with which the smile had come. She didn’t want to find him amusing any more than she wanted to find him attractive. And then her eyes met his and the desire to smile faded instantly.
Sexual tension punched through her, stealing her breath and clouding her mind. The power of it shook her.
‘Take your tablets,’ she croaked. She wanted to look away but there was something about those sexy dark eyes that wouldn’t allow it.
How long they would have stayed like that she didn’t know because the phone suddenly buzzed, breaking
