frowned, his eyes fixed on her face. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘Nothing at all.’ She could just imagine how a man like him would react to a woman with a migraine. Deciding that it was best to make her escape while she could, she stood up gingerly. ‘If you’ll excuse me for a moment. I need to use the bathroom.’
His eyes lingered thoughtfully on her face. ‘Last door on the left.’
Wishing he weren’t studying her quite so intently, Lindsay followed his directions and pushed open a door. Had circumstances been different she would have been amazed by the beautiful bathroom that confronted her, but as it was she felt too ill to react with anything other than relief at the prospect of privacy.
Closing the door carefully behind her, she put her hand on her stomach and took a deep breath. How long was the flight to the Caribbean? She hadn’t even asked, but without her medication she knew that she was going to be ill for all of it. And it was going to be horribly embarrassing.
Why now? Why now, when she really needed to have her wits about her?
Her head throbbed and she just wanted to lie down, but the thought of doing so in front of Alessio prevented her from returning to the cabin. Instead she sat down on a chair and leaned her head against the cool, marble wall, closing her eyes.
If only the pain would stop—
She didn’t know how long she sat there. She was in too much pain to move; so much so that when the bathroom door opened, she barely reacted.
‘Maledizione,’ a rough masculine voice cursed softly, ‘how long have you been like this? Are you ill?’
‘Migraine. I’ll be OK. Just leave me alone for a bit.’ Her eyes tightly shut against the light, Lindsay felt a firm masculine hand touch her forehead and then he muttered something under his breath in Italian.
‘I thought you were looking pale. Why didn’t you say something before?’
‘Alessio, please just go away,’ she muttered. ‘You’re difficult enough to deal with in good health. Trust me, you don’t want to be in here. I think I might be sick.’
Apparently undeterred by that warning, he scooped her easily into his arms and carried her through a door that led to a bedroom. Then he laid her gently on the enormous king-size bed. The soft pillow was cool against her cheek and it felt so wonderful to lie down that she gave a moan of gratitude.
‘Maybe you’re not all bad,’ she mumbled. ‘At this moment in time I almost like you.’
His eyes gleamed. ‘Stop talking, Lindsay. You might say something you regret.’
‘Sorry. Forgot you don’t want women to like you.’ She winced as another bolt of pain shot through her head. ‘Well, this must be a first for you. Tucking a sick woman into your bed.’
‘Do you have tablets in your bag?’ He sounded cool and efficient and her eyes drifted shut, her teeth gritted against the pain.
‘Forgot them. Packed in a hurry.’ She snuggled deeper into the pillow. ‘I didn’t even know planes came with beds. I guess it’s an essential item for a man like you.’
‘Believe it or not, I don’t use it for seduction. Being able to sleep when I need to makes me more efficient,’ he said dryly, pulling a heavy silk cover over her. ‘So—what am I going to do with you?’
The pain was agonising and she winced as a shaft of light penetrated the window. ‘You’re going to pass me my phone. I need to try calling Ruby again—’
‘Stop thinking about your sister and think about yourself for once.’ A frown in his eyes, Alessio leaned across and closed the blinds, shutting out the beams of sunlight. ‘Better?’
She never would have believed him capable of being so thoughtful. But her stomach was still churning and she was terrified that she was going to be sick over his handmade shoes. ‘I think you’d better leave now—for your sake.’
It seemed as though he was following her advice because he rose to his feet and left the room. But he returned moments later with a bowl and placed it by the bed, apparently unfazed by the situation. ‘I’m going to fetch you a doctor.’
If she’d had more energy Lindsay would have laughed. They were in mid-air, for goodness’ sake. Where was he going to find a doctor?
Perhaps he meant that he was going to talk to a doctor on the phone, but what good would that do?
The pounding in her head was unbearable, but when she heard voices next to her she gingerly opened her eyes and saw a man standing with Alessio.
With a frown, he sat down on the bed, asked her a few questions and then opened his bag.
Dimly in the back of her mind Lindsay was wondering how Alessio had managed to produce a doctor in mid-air, but her head was hurting too much to care and she was almost sobbing with gratitude as the doctor gave her medication and then left the room. Moments later, something deliciously cool was placed gently against her throbbing head.
She opened her eyes a slit and saw Alessio sitting next to her. He’d removed his tie and the sleeves of his white shirt had been rolled back to reveal strong forearms shadowed with dark hairs. As always he looked strong and capable and, surprisingly perhaps, not the slightest bit put out by her sudden illness. ‘The doctor thought this might help.’
‘Thank you. That feels wonderful. Why are you still here?’ But she felt intensely vulnerable and pathetically grateful to him for not walking out and leaving her alone. ‘I suppose your ego won’t allow a woman to claim a headache when she’s in your bed.’ Her remark made him smile.
‘Be quiet and go to sleep, Lindsay.’
‘You really are impossibly good-looking,’ she muttered as the medication started to take effect and her eyes drifted shut. ‘It’s a shame you’re such a selfish bastard.’
CHAPTER FOUR
SHE woke to find the pain gone and Alessio sprawled on the bed next to her, his eyes closed.
Still sleepy, Lindsay gazed at his dense lashes and the hard lines of his perfect bone structure.
So this was what it felt like to wake up next to a really, really gorgeous man. Like not getting up, she thought dreamily. Like spending all day lying in bed staring at him; counting those incredible eyelashes, studying the blue-black stubble that darkened his jaw, following the sensuous curve of his firm mouth.
Even relaxed and asleep, he looked strong and hotly masculine.
She was still in the process of contemplating his mouth when his eyes opened and he looked at her. His gaze locked with hers and for a sizzling moment they shared something agonisingly intimate. The response of her body was instantaneous and without thinking what she was doing, Lindsay lifted a hand and touched his cheek.
She felt the roughness of his jaw against her sensitive palm—man against woman—and then she saw his eyes narrow slightly.
‘I gather you’re feeling better?’ His voice was roughened by sleep, but it was enough to pierce
