Romantic Getaways Collection. Liz Fielding

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room and push him to show her some more of them.

      But she knew, deep down, that that could be a dangerous game to play.

      No, she’d leave her door open to keep an ear out for him in case he needed her, but it was probably best to give him a bit of space now.

      After getting washed in the en suite in her room and changing into one of the large, soft cotton T-shirts Caleb had loaned her she slid beneath the sheets and lay listening to the low murmur of the television in the other room, feeling exhaustion dragging at her eyelids until she could no longer keep them open.

      She slept fitfully, her dreams punctuated with disturbing images from the accident.

      Waking up in the early hours with her heart racing, she had a sudden panic that Caleb might have had a turn for the worse in his sleep and she slipped out of bed to tiptoe silently to his room to check on him. Pushing the door open quietly, she was confused to find his bed empty and looking as though it hadn’t been slept in all night.

      Where was he? Had he left the apartment without her knowing?

      Blood pulsed hard in her head as she moved quickly down the corridor, checking the other rooms, which all appeared to be empty, then ran into the living area, her heartbeat erratic now.

      Relief rushed through her as she spotted him lying on the sofa nearest the windows with a laptop perched precariously on his lap, breathing gently, his face smoothed of its usual fierceness in repose.

      She stood and watched him sleeping for a while, letting the still and silent darkness envelop her as she tried to get a handle on the intense rush of feelings that cascaded through her.

      She’d cared so deeply for him once, had thought at one point that her future would be with him by her side, but then she’d blown it, naïvely choosing the safe—boring, as Caleb had called it—option instead.

      Looking at him now, she realised with a surge of emotion that she missed him. So intensely it hurt. Over the intervening years she’d been able to quash the waves of regret she’d experienced in her weaker moments, but she knew now that she still craved the elated, excited way he’d made her feel, like a habit she couldn’t kick.

      She wasn’t here to get him back though, she told herself sternly, forcing herself to unclench her fists as she walked quietly over to where he lay to lift the laptop off his lap so she could take it back to the bedroom with her—just in case he woke up and decided to keep working. It was highly unlikely he’d ever trust her again, not after the way she’d let him down.

      He was altogether too proud for that.

      But she was determined to make it up to him somehow. Perhaps, if she was lucky, once he was better he’d remember this time they’d spent together and decide it was worth giving their friendship another chance.

      Tiptoeing out of the room, she glanced back briefly to where he lay sleeping, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

      All she could do now was hope for the best.

      * * *

      Caleb woke bleary-eyed from such a heavy sleep it took him a few moments to figure out where he was.

      As the room came into focus he realised he was lying on the sofa in his living room.

      Huh, strange.

      Levering himself up to a sitting position, he felt a twinge of pain in his chest and the memory of waking up in the hospital yesterday after an accident came flooding back. As did the baffling appearance of the beautiful woman who had turned up to take care of him. A woman he couldn’t remember ever seeing before in his life.

      Though he knew her. He knew her.

      And why did he feel as though there was something more to their friendship?

      Feeling his heart rate begin to rise, he forced the perturbing question out of his head for now and turned his attention to what he usually thought about upon waking instead.

      His business.

      He hadn’t intended to work for long last night—just wanting to make sure he hadn’t missed anything important whilst he’d been at the hospital—and had brought out the laptop he’d had stashed under the coffee table, feeling a sense of relief that Elena hadn’t noticed and confiscated that too. After skimming a number of things that didn’t require his urgent attention, the words beginning to blur together in front of his tired eyes, he’d come across a message from Benita that had made him start with worry, causing him to wince with pain as his cracked rib complained.

      He’d turned the problem over and over in his mind for a while, desperately trying to keep his attention focused on solving this hiccup, but his tired brain had had other ideas, insistently pulling him into a deep, overpowering sleep.

      He was awake now though.

      Reaching down onto his lap where he’d left his laptop, he was confused to find it wasn’t there. He sat up carefully, mindful of his damaged rib, and felt along the floor next to the sofa, guessing it must have slipped off his knee whilst he was asleep.

      ‘Looking for this?’ came a softly chastising voice from the other side of the room and he turned his head to see a woman—Elena—standing there with his computer held between her hands. Her brow was creased and her expression guarded.

      ‘I thought you were going to give your poor brain a rest last night so it had a chance to recover.’

      He shrugged and swung his legs off the sofa, then stood up carefully, turning to face her. Twisting his body was not at all comfortable at the moment.

      ‘Like I said, I don’t have time to take a break right now.’

      She huffed out a sigh. ‘Why not?’

      He threw up his hands in frustration, wincing at the twinge of pain this caused. ‘Because there are things going on that need my immediate attention.’

      ‘Like what?’

      Clearly she wasn’t going to give up her questioning. He wasn’t entirely sure he could trust her with details about his business, but something in him, something he couldn’t identify, told him it would be okay to talk to her.

      He sighed. ‘I need to convince a potential American supplier of my small appliance-sized battery that I’m an easy and reliable person to partner with,’ he muttered, folding his arms and rocking back on his heels as he thought about the problem again.

      ‘Apparently he has concerns and is considering backing out of a meeting I’ve taken great pains to set up while he’s over here in Spain. He’s supposed to be coming to Araya Industries on the last day of his visit and I’d hoped to persuade him to include one of my rechargeable batteries in their product range.’

      Walking over to the kitchen, he opened the fridge and extracted a carton of orange juice, which he held up towards her to ask if she’d like some. When she nodded, he grabbed two glasses and poured them both a good measure of it.

      ‘According to Benita, his PA let slip he’d heard a rumour about me being a difficult man to work with and is considering taking a meeting with one of my competitors instead—who is apparently the stable, patriarchal type that Carter

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