lot more sex.
He hadn’t had nearly enough of Anna Delane yet—she had a whole lot more to make up for before he’d be done with her.
’Would you like to swim?’
‘No, thank you.’
‘Take the catamaran out? Or the launch?’
‘No, thank you.’
‘Do you want to see the rest of the island?’
‘No, thank you.’
‘As you wish.’
There was no baiting amusement in Leo’s curt voice now. Merely mounting irritation. He picked up his coffee cup and drank, then set it down again. His eyes rested on the woman sitting opposite him.
She was reading a book. A thick paperback that was absorbing all her attention. But then everything and anything absorbed her attention except him. Of him she took no notice whatsoever. She was shutting him out of her existence. She never looked at him, or met his eye, or talked in anything other than the briefest, tersest replies.
She’d been like that since he’d sent for her.
The fact that he’d had to do so had been a source of irritation in itself. He’d come out of his shower to find his bed empty. She’d simply disappeared. It hadn’t bothered him. He’d assumed she’d merely gone back to her own room to shower and dress.
But she still hadn’t appeared even when he’d despatched one of the staff to tell her that breakfast would be on the terrace. He’d eaten on his own, then sent for her again.
That time she’d come down.
And had stalked stiff-backed across to the table just as she had done the night before. As if she’d never spent the night in his bed.
She’d been wearing dark glasses, completely concealing her eyes. Dark glasses, and her hair back in its punishing knot, and wearing tight black leggings and a long-sleeved sweat top. Completely inappropriate for a hot tropical day.
She’d sat down, totally ignoring him, and turned instead to the maid, requesting a pot of hot water and some fruit.
Then she’d twisted her chair slightly towards the sea view, crossed her long legs, opened her book and started reading.
He might not have been there.
For a minute Leo had looked at her, disbelievingly.
Then he’d spoken.
‘Kalimera, Anna,’ he’d said, in a studied tone.
She’d ignored him.
‘Are you always unsociable in the mornings?’ His tone had been even more studied.
No answer.
‘Anna—’
There had been an edge in his voice then.
She’d turned her head towards him.
He’d been unable to see her eyes. The dark glasses were very effective.
Irritatingly so.
‘Yes?’
Her tone had been quelling.
‘Tell me—’ he’d kept his tone light, civil ‘—what would you like to do today?’
‘Nothing, thank you.’
‘There must be something you would like to do,’ he’d persisted, with punishing politeness.
But she’d said, ‘No, thank you.’ In the same tone of complete indifference. And she’d gone on doing so to everything he’d suggested.
Now he just sat here, glaring at her, her nose still buried in her book.
Every last vestige of Leo’s good mood vanished.
The maid came out again, placing the requested items on the table. Anna lifted her head out of her book briefly and smiled her thanks. A brief smile, but a smile all the same.
Leo was pretty sure it was the first smile he’d ever seen from her.
It did something strange to him.
He pushed the strangeness aside, watching as she took a teabag from where she’d been using it as bookmark, placed it in a teacup and poured fresh hot water over it. A tangy, herbal scent came off it as it infused.
‘Do you not drink coffee?’ he asked.
‘Very seldom.’ She picked up a teaspoon and poked the teabag.
Then she forked a slice of fresh pineapple and placed it on her plate. She started cutting it up, lifting small slices to her mouth.
Silently, Leo slid the basket of fresh breads across to her.
‘No, thank you,’ she said.
‘Are you on a diet?’ he enquired.
‘I’m always on a diet,’ she answered, continuing with her pineapple.
‘You hardly need to lose weight.’ His eyes ran over her slim, elegant body.
She turned her head to him then.
‘That’s because I’m always on a diet,’ she replied caustically.
She went back to eating her pineapple, then took two slices of papaya, ate those, and pushed her plate away.
‘What would you like to eat next?’ Leo enquired with punishing civility.
‘Nothing, thank you.’ She picked up her teacup and took a small sip of the hot herbal tea. Then she placed it back on its saucer and resumed reading.
Leo looked at her fulminatingly.
What the hell was she playing at? Pretending last night had never happened? Pretending she’d never cried out, eyes distended with passion, hands clutching at him, shuddering with orgasm in his embrace?
Evidently, yes.
He stared at her balefully. Hell, she should be purring by now! Her body languorous and sensual from its sating last night. She should have undulated towards him wearing something skimpy, like a bikini with a chiffon sarong caressing her hips, wafting up to him, hair cascading down her back, mouth beestung. She should have leant down, draping her arms around his shoulders, murmuring amorously to him, lowering her mouth to his to greet him…
Instead she was sitting ramrod-straight, answering in terse, caustic monosyllables or totally ignoring him.
Christos, who the hell was she to ignore him? Did she really think she’d prefer a police cell to his bed? Obviously not, or she wouldn’t have accepted the bargain he’d offered her. She wanted
