overnight? No way would you have let that happen.’
He shrugged. ‘You got me.’
‘You’re quite good.’ He was better than good. ‘Spray cans?’
He nodded. ‘But I wipe my own slate clean now. And I only decorate my own property.’
‘What else?’
He shook his head. ‘Nope. If we’re doing the twenty questions, then it’s your turn to answer.’
She giggled, thrilled inside that he’d opened up just that touch. ‘Okay, what do you want to know?’
‘Past boyfriends.’
‘No. Really?’ That was the most pressing thing he wanted to know about her?
‘Uh-huh.’ His head bobbed, eyes glinting.
‘Not a lot to tell. Dated a couple of boys at high school. Only one serious when I was at university.’
‘How serious?’
‘We got engaged.’
His eyes widened. ‘What happened?’
‘I changed my mind.’
‘You don’t strike me as the kind of person to break a promise easily.’
‘It wasn’t easy. I left the country.’
‘Where did you go?’
‘France for most of the time.’
‘Why did you come back?
‘I missed my family.’ She shrugged. ‘Stupid huh?’
‘No. Not stupid.’ He went to his pack and pulled out his training gear. ‘What did you do at university?’
She’d started law, of course. Had done okay, but didn’t have the family brilliance. ‘I didn’t graduate.’
‘Snap. I left to build the business. Why did you quit?’
She swallowed. ‘That boyfriend. Bad news.’
‘What did he do?’
Cheated, of course. He’d been a law student a few years ahead of her. But he’d only wanted to be with her because of her family’s prestige. She didn’t want to go there. ‘It’s more than past your turn for a question. Past girlfriends?’
He bent and tied his trainer laces. ‘No relationships Sophy, remember?’
‘What about Jayne McIntosh?’
His fingers stilled. ‘What did Charlotte tell you?’
Barely anything—it was a guess. So was her next question. ‘It wasn’t that she didn’t turn you on any more, was it?’
He stood. ‘I never liked this game.’
‘What happened?’
‘Nothing that matters,’ he said shortly. ‘I’m more interested in what’s happening now. Not the past, not the future, but now.’
‘And what is happening now?’ She drew in her lip, wondering if he’d go there—dissect their affair at all.
He paused too. Finally turned—away from her. ‘We’re going for that run.’
They got her some running shoes and shorts from a shop in the town and then he led the way—up the hill, round and down through the forest, finally returning to town and the thermal pools.
Back at the chalet she dressed in his jeans and he cracked the whip.
‘You get back to work.’
It was all right for him—he was sprawled on the sofa reading the paper. But she was on target so found going back to work wasn’t so hard at all.
A couple of hours later he went out, brought back some Thai takeaway for dinner. After they’d eaten Sophy felt as playful as a kitten—the happiness made her feel sparkly from the inside out. She’d had a wonderful afternoon, was pleased with her progress for the show, and had loved his quiet company. She stood up from the sofa, stretched her arms out and twirled round the room.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Expressing myself.’ She lifted her tee shirt and his smile widened. Oh, it was so easy to have fun with him. ‘Come into the bedroom and watch me express myself some more,’ she invited.
She danced the way through, peeling the tee shirt from her body. He followed, and she pushed him onto the bed and knelt over him, enjoying the dominant position. Well, she was wearing his trousers, so she’d be in charge. She knew he liked it slow, and she could do slow for him. She toyed with the edges of her bikini top. He reached out and teased one triangle down a little lower so her nipple was almost exposed.
She slapped his hand away from her. ‘No. My job.’
His mouth made an ‘oh’ and his grin went wider. And thirty seconds later his fingers were back teasing—ruining her concentration.
‘Stop it.’ She batted his hand away again.
‘Make me.’
She paused, an idea bolting in. ‘Okay.’
She got off the bed and went out to the table covered in all her supplies. The ribbon was scarlet, a thin smooth satin. She picked up some scissors too.
He saw them as soon as she went back into the bedroom. Guessed her intention immediately. ‘Oh, no.’
‘Hands up.’
‘No.’
‘Why, Lorenzo—’ she knelt on the bed ‘—you wouldn’t be afraid, would you?’
He gave her a piercing look and held out his hands with a pained sigh. ‘There was me thinking you were straightlaced.’
‘Maybe I’ve discovered a ribbon of recklessness,’ she joked. It was his fault. His influence. His touch. He made her feel free. He made her feel as if she could do anything, try anything, and he’d still accept her.
She bound his wrists together. Wrapped the ribbon around the headboard and tied that too, so his arms were caught above his head. She looked down at his face. He had a smirk. As soon as she finished, he flexed, the ribbon went taut.
His smirk vanished. He stiffened and pulled harder.
‘I don’t think you can break it.’ She leaned closer to him, letting her breasts touch as she taunted. ‘We girl scouts know how to tie knots.’
He pulled again. She saw it dawn in his eyes—that he really couldn’t get free. ‘Sophy. Untie them.’
‘No.’
