air, he had never felt so gloriously alive.
Reluctantly breaking the kiss, still holding her close, he gazed into violet eyes as bright as the stars in a moonless night, stunned and bewildered by the ardency of their kiss. He’d crossed an unspoken boundary, knew he should apologise. Knew it would be a lie.
‘Do you want another apology?’
How could Alina ask an apology of him when she’d willingly contributed to the kiss? When she’d seen the concern in his eyes as he’d surfaced beside her? When it had been him she’d been thinking of as she’d floated in the semi-darkness, lost in a hopeless fantasy?
There’d been no sound—only a crackling in the air surrounding her skin. She’d opened her eyes and dream had become reality. A splash and a moment later she’d been enveloped in strong arms, his lips nuzzling her neck.
As if nothing had happened. As if his mother hadn’t treated her with contempt. She’d bristled, hit him in an effort to get away.
His sincere contrition had chastened her; his defence of her had quelled her resentment. His claim that she enhanced his life had spun her back into her daydream and his kiss had been everything she’d imagined and more. She could no longer deny that she wanted him—rampantly hormonal or for real. Where that took them, she had no idea.
‘I don’t ever want you to say sorry unless you truly mean it. I’m the one who ought to apologise, for acting like an immature schoolgirl. I should have kept calm this morning and placated her.’
She was blurting out waffle, keeping back the words she really wanted to say.
The incongruity of the situation suddenly hit her. She was in a dimly lit pool, treading water with an almost naked, definitely aroused man whose very presence threatened her safe, isolated, unemotional existence.
‘Ethan, I...I can’t... Oh, hell, I can’t shop.’
Ethan’s eyes widened when she swore. His hold loosened, giving her the chance to paddle backwards, putting distance between them. He caught her at the steps, his touch light yet compelling. His hand framed her cheek. His little finger lifted her chin, enabling him to study her face with the intensity she no longer found intimidating. Especially when the warm, caring gleam in his dark blue eyes said he’d wait as long as it took for her to confide in him.
She quivered: from his look, from his hold, from her fear of his reaction. From everything about him.
His lips curled in reassurance. ‘If I let you go now, will you explain what that meant when you’re dry and dressed?’
When she’d had time to rethink, time to decide to try again. When he’d be corporately attired, in his business persona again.
Her eyes blurred with tears. She needed help—the sooner the better.
‘Of course I can shop—that’s ridiculous. It’s buying stuff to wear when I meet the people in your world that’s so daunting. Those fancy boutiques scare me; even the upmarket department stores are discouraging if you don’t follow the latest trends. Reading magazines doesn’t help, because I have no idea what’s suitable for what event.’
‘I like you in blue.’ Instant and believable. He gently wiped the corners of her eyes with his thumb. ‘And your new dresses look great.’
‘They were easy. Summer daywear. Once I start meeting people you know I’ll be judged on how I look, what I wear. How I speak. I’m afraid I’ll fail you.’
Her mouth stayed open, unable to form more words as her brain seized on her last thought. Failing Ethan, having her unsuitable image impact on him, was her number one fear. Perhaps an avoidable situation if one woman had behaved as a loving mother should.
‘Why couldn’t your mother be more like Louise? Then I’d be able to ask her for help.’ As soon as the words were spoken she wished them back. Gave a choked snort of a laugh.
‘Stupid question. If she were we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I need to manage by myself.’
ETHAN HAD LOST track of the number of times he’d been racked with guilt these last several weeks. There’d been days when it had been as prevalent as breathing.
He’d given Alina a credit card, assuming she’d enjoy shopping. A lot of the women he knew—including his mother—considered having unlimited credit their due right, an essential element in their pursuit of looking stunning on the arm of their partner at any public or private function.
Alina was different. No demands, no preconceived notions. Absolutely no idea how beautiful she was.
He placed his hands on her waist, lifted her onto the side of the pool, and checked his watch.
‘We’ll meet in the lounge in, say, thirty minutes?’
‘For what?’
His pulse hiked at the endearing way her brow wrinkled and her eyes narrowed, as if she expected a reprimand.
‘A shopping trip. If I’m the one you’re dressing for, I guess I ought to help in the selection.’
His reward was a beaming smile and sparkling eyes—worth any amount of waiting outside changing rooms or carrying umpteen promotional bags. The single experience he’d had accompanying a female shopper had left him disinclined for a repeat, but this was for Alina.
‘You mean it?’
He ran his finger down her cheek. ‘I told you—I take care of what’s mine.’
She was on her feet in an instant, grabbing a towel on the way to the door. He followed, hoisting himself from the water, giving himself a quick dry-off before retrieving his clothes.
* * *
It wasn’t working. Ethan felt way out of his depth, wished he’d offered to find someone else to help her. He knew when a woman looked chic, understood the way it transformed her inner attitude. The selected clothes weren’t having that effect on Alina. They were in the third boutique, and she’d modelled the tenth outfit.
The assistants had been helpful, yet there was an edge to their attitude he couldn’t fathom. Was it him? His obvious antipathy to this environment? Was it sweet, shy Alina, who hadn’t looked comfortable at all, posing awkwardly as if she’d rather be anywhere else?
If she lifted her chin, held her shoulders back and stood proud, the effect would be so much better. He groaned inside. He’d promised to help her—failure wasn’t an option.
‘This isn’t working, is it?
Her voice echoed his thoughts as she came up behind him, wearing the dress she’d left home in. He swung round, ready to protest.
Alina stopped his words with two fingers on his lips, ignoring the tingles her action generated.
‘You’re uncomfortable with it all, and I’m as helpful as seagulls at a beach picnic. I can tell what clothes aren’t right on me. Others...’ She shrugged. ‘I have pictures in my head of women
