laughed then, a harsh, cynical sound that assured her of what he thought of that idea. He didn’t have to say anything. After all, he had had ample opportunity to ask her in the past, and he never had.
Suddenly, feeling ridiculously desperate for his approval, she murmured, ‘Believe it or not, Kane, even I stay at home sometimes to wash my hair.’
‘Meaning?’
‘I wasn’t doing anything in particular.’
The look he shot her was one of pure scepticism, which just showed her how pointless it was, she thought, even trying to change his mind about her.
‘Must be tough,’ he observed, his mouth turning mocking, ‘doing nothing all day and then having nothing to do all night.’ His eyes were more serious now, uncomfortably assessing. ‘I would have credited you with more intelligence than to drift around the world—as you admitted in your own words—“killing time”.’
Would he? She looked at him quickly. Did he consider her intelligent? Worth something? That her life had some value? Something warming and utterly reckless stole along her veins.
‘Who says I’m drifting round the world?’
‘Aren’t you?’ he said grimly. And before she could answer, ‘Life isn’t all one whopping big party, Shannon. I’d hoped you would have learnt that by now.’
She glanced out of the window, biting her tongue to stop herself hurling back just how big a party life had been for her. A little way ahead, rows of countless masts pointed skywards from the bobbing dinghies in the marina; small sailing craft, moored alongside the gleaming hulls of more powerful motor vessels.
‘Isn’t it?’ Hair stirring in the wind, she brought her attention back to him again. ‘Maybe not for you, Kane, but, as we both know, I’m one of the privileged few. I’ve never been required to work. Daddy foots the bill for my every need through direct debit once a month—and I sleep late most days so I can get my kicks out of enjoying myself every night!’
Something in her outburst made him gravitate towards her, broad shoulders turning, mouth firming in disdain. He was altogether too big, too dominant and too disturbingly sexy, she thought with a tightness in her throat, noticing the way the soft fabric of his trousers pulled across his thighs as he breathed in a voice low enough so that their driver wouldn’t hear, ‘And am I supposed to be impressed by that?’
It was no good, she realised, despairing at the condemnation that glittered beneath those thick, dark lashes. Because, of course, she hadn’t been trying to impress him, nor was any of it true. But the fact that he was so ready to believe the worst about her only fuelled her determination to let him.
‘Go to hell,’ she murmured, turning away.
In the marina, with Kane having paid off the taxi, Shannon shrugged aside the assistance he offered, making her own way beside him along the quay.
‘Which is yours?’ she quizzed sarcastically, glancing at some rustic-looking fishing tubs that made up the line of moored vessels, along with small masted craft and compact cabin cruisers, built for speed but with very little comfort.
She was lagging behind him, finding it increasingly difficult to match his stride.
He stopped beside one of the small cruisers, cutting an impressive figure against the sleek, gleaming lines of an oceangoing motor yacht that caught Shannon’s attention just ahead of them, waiting for her to catch up.
Now, that would suit you more, Kane, she fantasised, dragging her weary eyes from what had to be over fifty feet of sporty-looking, unadulterated opulence. That’s more your style. Fast. Powerful. Expensive.
‘Are you all right?’
She had suddenly become the subject of his hard assessment and knew, as she drew level with him, that those shrewd eyes had seen the dampness that beaded her forehead, the way her chest was lifting a little too rapidly, making her breathing shallow.
‘I’m fine.’ She wasn’t, though. She was feeling exhausted.
‘Is it the bang on the head?’
‘No, I’m OK,’ she uttered, moving past him so as not to draw attention to herself. Just not as well yet as she had thought.
‘Like hell!’ he muttered, moving to catch her, lift her, and then, as if she were weightless, to step with her onto the gleaming yacht.
CHAPTER TWO
‘YOU didn’t have to carry me on,’ she breathed, when he had made short work of the teak-laid steps to the covered aft deck and set her down in front of the yacht’s sloping glass patio doors. ‘I was perfectly capable of managing on my own.’
‘Were you?’ At the press of a button, the doors glided open on to an interior of pure luxury, cream leather settees contrasting with polished maple, soft carpeting complementing a ceiling panelled in suede. ‘For one thing,’ Kane said, ushering her down the few steps that gave the low-level saloon complete privacy from the quayside, ‘you’ve been dazed. For another you looked on the verge of collapse. You’re pale. You’re dark under the eyes. On top of which, you’re far too thin. In fact, you look an absolute wreck!’
‘Thanks,’ Shannon sent back over her shoulder with a rather pained grimace. ‘Remind me to return the compliment sometime.’
He guided her up more carpeted steps into what comprised a beautifully appointed dinette and galley.
Back in the city, sirens wailed—police vehicles racing to control the disturbance.
‘Sit down,’ Kane commanded softly.
As much as she resented taking orders from him, in this instance Shannon was grateful to sink down onto the soft cream upholstery of the semicircular settee, rest her arms on the gleaming oval table around which it curved.
‘I’m serious, Shannon. You look dreadful,’ he reiterated, dumping her bag down on the table. ‘What have you been doing for the past—what is it? Two, two and a half years?’ Censure burned in the eyes that raked disapprovingly over her. ‘Playing too hard, as usual?’
Broodingly she watched him move around the marble-topped counter in the galley—as well-equipped as any modern kitchen—and fish for something in a cupboard before turning on one of the sparkling chrome taps over the sink.
‘If you know, why ask?’ she challenged, humouring him, because, after all, he knew it all, didn’t he? ‘I think it’s called “burning the candle at both ends”, but then you never do that, do you, Kane? Or are you just so big and strong that you can deflect all that hard living?’ An involuntary glance over those broad shoulders and unquestionably fit physique made her blood race, increasing the ache at her temples as he strode back to her.
‘Let’s take a look at that,’ he said, without answering her.
Disconcertingly, he caught her chin, his touch surprisingly gentle as he inspected the injury she had sustained to her forehead.
‘The skin’s not broken, but I don’t think you’ll escape without some bruising.’ Deftly he applied a cold compress to the wound with the moistened lint he had taken from
