hints at tight abs. Now, there’s a look. Worn with black jeans, naturally.’
‘Naturally.’
‘Of course, if you want to go all out, you could let your hair grow a little, just so the ends curl at your nape, but kept well groomed—although wild and unruly is also a captivating look. Women love to have something to grab on to in the throes of passion. I could consider a moustache, well trimmed, although I think kissing a man with one could be rather hard on the lips.’
‘Anything else?’
‘Don’t wear a gold neck chain. They’re so yesterday. A Rolex is a must. And I do like a ring that makes a statement. Platinum set with two rows of diamonds. Hand-crafted leather shoes. Preferably Italian.’
‘What’s wrong with Spanish?’
‘Absolutely nothing. I’m merely offering my personal preferences here.’
‘I would never have guessed.’
‘You did suggest we talk clothes,’ she reminded him with a sweet smile. ‘I could, if asked nicely, assess your wardrobe.’
‘There is nothing wrong with my wardrobe.’
‘Of course not. If I recall correctly, everything is colour-coded—suits, shirts, ties, trousers, even shoes.’
‘And that’s a fashion crime?’
‘Not at all. It merely accentuates your need for order. I, on the other hand, rather enjoy the seek and find method… I’m invariably surprised.’ Not quite true, for she did keep everything together in neat groups. Besides, she could always put her hand on what she needed at any given time.
The Mercedes began to lose speed, and within seconds Raúl used a remote to open the gates to Teresa’s villa.
‘There, you see,’ Gianna offered in a deceptively mild voice. ‘We managed to survive the drive without once lapsing into an argument.’
His eyes gleamed with amusement. ‘The day isn’t over, minx.’
‘If that’s an endearment, it sucks.’
‘What would you have me call you? Querida? Amante?’
‘Please don’t. They no longer apply.’
He drew the car to a halt beneath the porte-cochère, and she collected her package and slid from the passenger seat, supremely conscious of him as they passed through the massive double doors into the lobby.
‘Thanks for the ride,’ she said quickly as she made for the staircase.
‘Think nothing of it.’
There were several hours until dinner, hours which she needed to fill productively, and somehow subsiding into a chair with a book held little appeal. The time difference meant it was too early to call Annaliese at Bellissima, and her brother, Ben, would be out taking his early-morning run.
She needed action of the physical kind—exercise that would use up her excess energy. A hard workout would do it, but she’d need to drive to the nearest gym…which was where?
Elena would know. She quickly changed into cotton trousers, pulled on a tee, then stowed shorts, a tank top, sneakers and her wallet into a backpack and made her way down to the kitchen.
‘Of course, señora. I shall tell Miguel.’
Except instead of handing her a set of keys Miguel insisted on acting as chauffeur, in spite of her assurance all she needed were specific directions.
‘The señor insists.’
‘There was no need to disturb Raúl,’ Gianna protested, only to incur a frown in dissent.
‘I respectfully disagree. The señor insists you do not venture away from the villa alone.’
You have to be joking. Words she didn’t express aloud. Instead, she merely inclined her head. ‘Would you mind waiting? I need to discuss something with the señor.’
Did she ever!
The office door was closed, its heavy panelled door an imposing statement which failed to deter her from issuing one brief knock before entering.
Raúl glanced up from the computer screen, caught the determined look in those blue eyes, and settled back in his chair to view her with deceptive indolence.
On one level he was amused to discover she imagined she could do battle with him…and win. Yet her barely concealed anger was intriguing.
He was scheduled to participate in a conference call in five minutes, which didn’t allow much time for the inevitable verbal tussle she intended to perform.
‘Miguel has instructions to deliver and collect you from wherever you want to go.’
Her eyes flared. ‘I don’t need a bodyguard. And don’t you dare refer to Miguel as anything else.’
He lifted both arms and crossed them behind his head as he regarded her thoughtfully. ‘You’d prefer to drive to a destination you’re unfamiliar with, perhaps even misinterpret directions and end up on a winding mountain road?’
He almost expected a verbally aggressive denial, and she didn’t disappoint.
‘I lived and drove a car in Madrid, remember?’
‘Mallorca is not Madrid.’
‘In which case I’ll call for a taxi.’
‘Doing so won’t necessarily eliminate a possible confrontation involving media attention.’
He saw her eyes widen, then begin to narrow. ‘What precisely are you saying?’
‘Sierra is holidaying on the island.’
And hunting him.
Raúl shook his head. ‘Think again.’
Her? Comprehension occurred swiftly as she envisaged a few scenarios Sierra was capable of manufacturing…none of which were pretty.
‘And you were planning on telling me this…when?’
‘After dinner, when Teresa retired for the evening.’
Gianna’s gaze didn’t waver. ‘You believe Sierra will contrive a supposedly chance meeting…and you don’t think I’m capable of handling her?’
‘I’d prefer not to see you put in that position.’
She took a deep breath and expelled it slowly. ‘Don’t underestimate me,’ she warned with silky intent. She longed to fling a verbal barb, only to restrain herself from doing so.
It irked that he knew, and her eyes flashed blue fire.
‘My
