firmly. ‘Everything will look better by Monday morning.’
Silke watched open-mouthed as he left without offering any further explanation. Not that one was necessary. Despite all her protests it was obvious Henry had gone ahead with his proposal for her jewellery designs to be introduced to Buchanan’s—and it looked as if, in spite of the objections she knew must have come from Lyon, Henry might have got his own way!
Great. Just great!
Did no one ever listen to her?
Well, maybe they hadn’t up until now. But they were certainly going to on Monday morning!
‘ENJOYING your swim?’
That was exactly what she had been doing! Had been. Lyon’s arrival was sure to spoil that.
Her mother had decided to go into the agency today, insisting Silke take the day off, that she needed a little rest and relaxation after being ill on Saturday evening. Henry had offered her the use of his indoor pool in the grounds of their home, an offer Silke had been only too happy to accept. Until a few seconds ago, that was!
She had been floating aimlessly on her back in the water for the last twenty minutes or so, was enjoying the almost tropical warmth of the beautiful indoor pool, plants and loungers around the spacious pool adding to that effect. But at the first sound of Lyon’s voice she had rolled self-consciously on to her front, swimming to the side now as he stood there watching her.
He looked slightly overdressed in his dark three-piece business suit and pale blue shirt, and considering the heat in here he must be feeling slightly uncomfortable. Not that he looked it, just as arrogantly self-assured as usual as he stood looking down at her.
‘It’s a beautiful pool,’ she answered him warily, conscious of her slicked back hair and make-up-less face. She hadn’t envisaged feeling at quite such a disadvantage the next time she saw him, hadn’t for one moment imagined he would interrupt her leisurely swim. But then, when had Lyon ever done anything she expected him to do! Even so...
‘Henry told me you were here,’ he drily answered the question that had been forming on her lips.
Damn Henry. Didn’t her stepfather realise that Lyon was the main stress and strain she was trying to escape from by taking up her mother’s suggestion that she take the day off? Probably. One thing she was absolutely sure of since coming to know him better: that ‘irresponsible old devil’ pose Henry adopted was just that—a pose. He invariably knew exactly what he was doing. Just as he did this time. He wanted his own way just as much as he protested Lyon always did.
‘We had an appointment at nine-thirty,’ Lyon reminded her when she made no response.
‘I cancelled it,’ she told him dismissively as she climbed the marble steps out of the pool, all the time trying not to hurry her movements and show how uncomfortable she felt dressed in only her brief black bikini, her body lightly golden against the dark material. As quickly as she could without appearing too obvious she pulled on the white towelling robe Henry had provided, wrapping a towel about her wet hair before turning to face Lyon again.
And as she looked at the light mockery in his expression she knew that her efforts had all been wasted; he knew exactly how uncomfortable she had felt emerging from the pool in his presence. Damn him as well as Henry!
‘I’m well aware of the fact that you cancelled the appointment,’ Lyon drawled softly. ‘So I thought I would come and see you instead,’ he added challengingly.
‘The “mountain coming to Mohammed”?’ she derided, settling herself down on a white lounger, relieved to do so, as unnerved as she usually was to be in this man’s company.
His mouth twisted. ‘Something like that. Is the water warm?’
Silke looked up at him frowningly; what did the temperature of the water have to do with their conversation about her broken appointment?
‘Is it?’ he persisted.
‘Very,’ she answered distractedly.
‘In that case—’ he took off his tie, undoing the top button of his shirt ‘—I think I’ll go in for a swim too.’
Silke blinked up at him. ‘You don’t have a costume,’ she stated the obvious.
Dark brows rose over mocking grey eyes as he looked down at her. ‘I always have one here for my use,’ he told her tauntingly. ‘Don’t worry, Silke; I wasn’t about to go skinny-dipping!’
Colour darkened her cheeks at his mockery; it was just like him to realise that had been her immediate worry!
‘We can talk once I’ve had my swim,’ he added arrogantly.
‘I was thinking of leaving,’ Silke told him stiffly, still smarting from his derision. But there was no way she could have sat here calmly while he swam naked—and she knew he was arrogantly sure enough of himself to have done exactly that if he felt like it!
He turned slowly back to look at her. ‘Henry told me you intended spending the day here...?’ He arched questioning brows.
Damn Henry; exactly what was he up to? He knew how much she wanted to avoid Lyon’s company, and yet he had told the other man where she was, and how long she intended staying here.
She shrugged. ‘I have things to do.’
‘They can wait,’ Lyon told her arrogantly. ‘At least until after I’ve had my swim and we’ve talked,’ he added drily as she would have protested at his autocratic manner.
Silke glared after him as he went to get changed. Arrogant, arrogant...God, he was so infuriating; she was starting to repeat herself now!
What could he want to talk to her about? Not her jewellery designs, surely? He had made his feelings clear right from the beginning concerning her mother’s motives for marrying Henry, had classed her in the same category. But he had seemed more than a little interested in the jewellery she had been wearing on Saturday...
‘Why so pensive, Silke?’
She had been so deep in thought that she hadn’t been aware of his return, her eyes widening as she looked up at him standing next to her lounger, swallowing hard as she took in the male beauty of him. Brief black swimming trunks covered the lower part of his body, a body that was tautly muscled, covered in a fine dark hair, the skin lightly tanned. He was breathtaking!
‘Silke?’ he prompted softly as she continued to stare at him.
She blinked, shaking her head slightly to break the spell of his mesmerising virility. But it wasn’t easy to do. She had made love with this man, her body pressed against his, his arms like steel bands about her as he claimed her. And as she looked at him she wanted him again. Oh, God...!
He reached out to remove the towel from about her hair, loosening the silky blonde strands down on to her shoulders, his fingers gently caressing, his gaze intent on her flushed face.
Oh, God, could he see the desire in her face? Was her need of him there in
