some time talking, then, before you ripped off his clothes.’
Lindy firmly put aside the startling image of Sam Rourke’s perfect frame. She wasn’t about to be diverted from her theme. The cautious expression she had seen briefly in her sister’s eyes had been enough to worry her.
‘I can’t think of any reason to undress a man who is capable of doing it for himself.’ She couldn’t let this assumption pass unchallenged.
‘I could enumerate them,’ her sister offered generously.
‘I think Sam didn’t want me to be taken by surprise by the gossip,’ Lindy said swiftly—too swiftly. It was faintly shocking to realise that her own brain was fertile enough to make any lesson from Hope on the subject redundant.
‘Sam’s no gossip,’ Hope acceded. ‘Unfortunately, he’s a minority of one. I’m not having an affair with Lloyd.’
Lindy met her sister’s eyes and gave a sigh of relief. ‘I’m glad; I’d hate for you to be hurt. I know how…’ Her voice thickened.
Hope came over and gave her a quick hug. ‘It was an awfully long time ago,’ she said softly, compassion in her eyes. ‘No matter how it looks, I’m not involved with Lloyd, at least not in that way.’
‘Do you think it’s wise to spend the day with him and fuel people’s speculation?’
Hope got to her feet. ‘People’s nasty minds are not my problem,’ she observed sharply.
Lindy didn’t think this was a very practical position to take, but she didn’t voice her doubts. ‘Perhaps they’ll think you’re having an affair with Sam—he is living here.’
‘He’s only stopping for a couple more days. He has a boat that he usually lives on. It’s down here, but it’s in dry dock having its keel hauled or whatever they do to boats. The hotels are overflowing with our lot and, besides, the poor lamb likes his privacy. Anyway, he’s a much better cook than I am.’
‘That’s no great recommendation,’ Lindy said, recalling some of her sister’s more spectacular culinary exploits. ‘Ducks have been known to sink when fed your soufflé.’
‘I’ll probably marry a chef,’ Hope said thoughtfully. ‘A tall one,’ she added with a chuckle as she ducked her head to avoid a low beam. ‘Do you like the room? Isn’t the place a find?’
‘It’s lovely, Hope. Or am I supposed to call you Lacey here?’
‘Don’t you dare! Is it going to be a problem for you with Sam here?’ she said, her expression growing serious. ‘I could ask him to find somewhere else.’
‘Don’t be silly.’ The last thing she wanted to do was play up the whole trivial incident. He was attractive and he’d kissed her—and she’d kissed him, a pedantic voice annoyingly added. She could share a roof with the man and show him how little she was affected by the experience. ‘It was a momentary aberration, that’s all.’
‘If you say so.’
‘I do,’ Lindy responded firmly, not much caring for the tone of her sister’s voice.
It turned out that Hope hadn’t exaggerated the dratted man’s culinary talents. She and Hope returned from a stroll along the beach later that evening to find the table set and delicious smells emanating from the galley kitchen.
‘That smell’s terrific, you lovely man, you.’ Hope peeled off the jacket she had worn against the evening chill, shook out her golden mane and threw her arms around Sam’s neck. She ritually kissed him on both cheeks and Lindy, watching, couldn’t believe that any man wouldn’t be bowled over by her warmth and vitality. ‘I might just keep you on.’
‘Sorry, honey, but my heart belongs to Jennifer.’
‘What a waste,’ she replied with a grin.
Lindy quietly took her place at the table and hoped her strong desire to ask about the identity of Jennifer was not as easy to detect as she suspected it was. Did Jennifer know he went around kissing perfect strangers?
‘Do you feel better after your rest, Rosalind?’ Sam asked as Hope helped herself to a generous portion of home-made pasta.
‘Much, thank you.’ Like a coward, she’d avoided contact with him earlier in the evening by pleading exhaustion—a cop-out, and he probably knew it. It had worked, though. She could now be perfectly objective about his smouldering sexuality.
She heaved a sigh. Who am I kidding? she thought. Seeing him now made her realise that pretending the incident earlier hadn’t happened just wasn’t feasible. It went against the grain, but she’d have to accept that for some inexplicable reason, and even though he symbolised the things she despised in men—the excessive good looks, the calculating charm—she was attracted to him in a basic sort of way. I’m damned if I’m going to act like some star-struck teenager, she decided, lifting her head and looking him firmly in the eye. Both eyes, actually—deep, mesmerising eyes.
She broke a bread roll and found her hands were trembling. ‘Hope tells me you have a boat.’
‘She’s having her hull shot-blasted, but she’ll be back on the water by the weekend. So you’ll be rid of me. That is what you want, isn’t it?’ The latter was said in a voice meant only for her ears, and Lindy sensed the confusion she was fighting was mirrored in her eyes.
‘You’ll have to get used to eating out, Lindy, or cook,’ Hope said with her mouth full. Her sister did everything with such enthusiasm and lack of inhibition that Lindy suddenly felt stilted and awkward by comparison. She was sure Sam must see the contrast. Why on earth should I care if he does? she wondered, angry at this bizarre preoccupation she had with the man.
‘You’ll have to come for a sail on Jennifer when the schedule permits.’ He caught Lindy’s flicker of comprehension. ‘You thought she was a woman, my Jennifer?’ He filled her glass with wine and leaned back in his chair. The candlelight shadowed the planes and hollows of his aesthetically sculpted face and left his eyes areas of mystery.
‘Named for a woman, it’s almost the same thing,’ she responded, realising how astute he was at interpreting the slightest nuance in body language.
‘Not one of mine. I never bothered changing the name when I got her ten years back. The longest relationship I’ve ever had with a female,’ he acknowledged with a lecherous grin.
Hope gave a laugh, accepting the gauntlet. ‘Hark at the sex symbol of our times,’ she teased. ‘‘‘Not one of mine.’’’
Rather to Lindy’s surprise, Sam seemed to appreciate Hope’s mockery. ‘Keeping the name means I don’t have to worry about changing the paintwork every time I part company with a lady.’
‘This boy isn’t as stupid as he looks,’ Hope said, impressed. ‘I’ll get it,’ she added as the phone shrilled.
‘How’s the nose?’ Lindy asked, quelling the panic that threatened as Hope disappeared.
‘Lloyd thinks it’ll be fine if we stick to my left profile.’
‘Seriously?’ she said, examining his perfect right profile.
