Wicked Surrender: Ruthless Awakening / The Multi-Millionaire's Virgin Mistress / The Timber Baron's Virgin Bride. Sara Craven
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‘One of those situations where ignorance is definitely bliss.’ His tone bit. ‘But you’re a really splendid actress, my sweet,’ he went on, after a pause. ‘Because when I came in to check on you, just after dawn, I’d have sworn you were flat out. I thought I even detected a little snore. How wrong can anyone be?’
She shrugged. ‘I’d say the field was wide open.’ She sat down, determined not to show her inner disturbance at the thought of him watching her sleeping, and unfolded her table napkin. ‘But you seem to have insomnia problems too, if you were lurking around in the small hours.’ She gave him a small, flat smile. ‘Conscience troubling you, perhaps?’
‘Not at all,’ he said. ‘These are busy waters. I had no wish for a moment’s inattention to result in our being mown down by a tanker.’
The arrival of the attentive Enrique, with glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice and a basket of warm rolls, followed almost at once by scrambled eggs with chorizo and another large pot of coffee, saved her having to find a reply.
‘I hope the sea air has given you an appetite,’ Diaz remarked, offering her the pepper mill.
‘I wouldn’t know,’ Rhianna said icily, aware, to her everlasting shame, that her mouth was watering in response to the aroma from her plate. ‘Being shut up in that five-star cell you condemned me to, I didn’t know it existed. After all, I could hardly open a window to check the ozone levels.’
‘Well, your freedom has been now fully restored, and you can breathe again.’ He indicated a powerful-looking pair of binoculars lying on the table beside him. ‘Are you interested in bird-watching? It could be a good day for it, now we’ve left the sea mist off Brest behind us.’
‘I’m afraid your plans for my shipboard entertainment are doomed,’ she returned, doing her damnedest not to eat too fast, even though these were the best scrambled eggs she’d ever tasted. She added untruthfully, ‘I really wouldn’t know a canary from a robin.’
‘I think Biscay goes in more for shearwaters and arctic terns,’ he said. ‘But maybe you prefer mammals. We can usually offer a selection of dolphins in good weather, or, if you’re lucky, you might even spot a whale.’
‘If I was lucky,’ she said stonily, concealing a flash of delight, ‘I wouldn’t be here in the first place. And why would I want to see a whale anyway?’
‘Because they’re rare and beautiful creatures,’ Diaz said quietly. ‘I thought like might call to like.’
Rhianna looked down at her empty plate, her throat tightening as he paused.
‘Besides,’ he went on, ‘you might get cast one day in another remake of Moby Dick, with the advantage of being already acquainted with the main character.’
‘Unlikely,’ she said, forbidding herself even a marginal smile. ‘Female roles are pretty thin in that particular epic.’
‘I’m sure they’d adapt it to accommodate you,’ he said, pouring more coffee. ‘A girl stowaway on the Pequod who slowly wins the heart of Captain Ahab and turns him from his revenge to joint ownership of a seafood restaurant on Nantucket.’
She shuddered. ‘Oh, God, don’t even suggest it. Someone might hear.’
‘But if not that,’ he said, ‘there’ll be other roles to play eventually.’
‘I hope so,’ Rhianna said slowly. ‘I wouldn’t like to think that Lady Ariadne would be all I’d be remembered for.’ She bit her lip. ‘But at the moment I’m not looking beyond the next series.’
‘And what would have happened to that,’ he enquired levelly, ‘if Simon had asked you to marry him after all? If he’d wanted you to keep the baby? What price Lady Ariadne then?’
Be careful, said the voice in her head. Be very careful. You can’t give anything away.
She shrugged again. ‘That was never going to happen,’ she said. ‘I knew it. Simon certainly knew it. And we both made our choices long before you decided to interfere. Whatever you may have seen or heard, or think you know, the wedding was never in any danger from me.’
She sent him a cool smile. ‘So now you’ll have to live with the knowledge that it’s all been a total waste of time. That you’ve carried me off for nothing, Mr Penvarnon.’ She lifted her chin. ‘Therefore, why don’t you admit defeat, turn this expensive piece of equipment right around, and take me back to England?’
He pushed his chair back and rose. ‘Because it’s far too late for that, Rhianna,’ he said softly. ‘It always has been. And if you don’t know that, sweetheart, then you’re lying not just to me but to yourself as well.’
And he walked away, leaving her staring after him, her mouth suddenly dry and her pulses pounding.
In spite of the breeze, it was still hot enough for Rhianna to be thankful for the awning above the sun deck, where she lay on a cushioned lounger. But even in its shade her clothes were sticking to her.
I didn’t bring a bikini on this trip, she thought wryly, because it never occurred to me I’d have time to sunbathe. Besides, I knew I could always borrow a costume from Carrie if I fancied a quick swim in between pre-wedding chores.
But maybe a bikini, or any kind of swimwear, would not be a good choice for these particular circumstances. Being fully dressed might not be comfortable, but it seemed altogether the safer option.
In view of his parting shot, she’d been half tempted to go to her stateroom and stay there, not venturing back on deck at all. But that might suggest she was disturbed by what he’d said, and she couldn’t afford that. She had to appear indifferent, even relaxed, if that was possible.
So she’d simply collected her sunglasses, and the book she’d intended for the journey back to Paddington, and she was now struggling to lose herself in it. The reviews had been good, and it was by an author she liked, but the story was failing to hold her.
Real life seems to keep intruding, she told herself, endeavouring not to glance at the bridge, where Diaz, his shirt discarded, was seated at the controls, and thankful for the designer shades concealing the direction of her gaze.
What’s wrong with me? she demanded silently. I’ve seen plenty of men in less than he’s wearing. Come to that, I’ve seen him in far less too, only I was too young to appreciate it. Even if I’ve never been able to forget… But would the image of him emerging from the water like some dark sea god be the one she would take with her into the approaching wilderness?
Or would their encounters of a few months ago prove more potent in the end? Become the ones to be treasured?
Like the moment when she’d glanced across the crowded room at the sponsors’ party and seen him there, unchanged and unmistakable after nearly five years, chatting to the Apex chairman and his wife.
She’d never really expected to see him again, so the shock of it had held her breathless, motionless for a moment, captive to all kinds of contradictory emotions. Then, obeying an imperative she’d barely understood but had known she might regret, she’d murmured an excuse to the group around her and begun to make her way towards him.
Halfway across the