things in a month’s time or make sure this place was transformed into the venue of her dreams. Besides, what else did he have to do? He fixed the nymph with a hard stare. ‘Pass me that notebook,’ he said. ‘We have a lot of work to do.’
THE NYMPH CLUTCHED her notebook tightly and glared. ‘We?’
‘We,’ Leo confirmed. ‘Right now this hotel is only fit for a Halloween-themed wedding. I’m sure your knowledge of European feminist history will be very useful when it comes to sorting out the dripping showers, but just in case it isn’t I am intending to stay and oversee.’
‘Really?’ The bright blue eyes were hard. ‘And you know how to fix a dripping tap, I suppose?’
‘I can fix a tap, tile a wall, paint woodwork. Can you?’ It was all true, not that many people knew that. It would ruin his carefully cultivated, trust-funded euro-playboy image if anyone knew just how handy he was with a spanner, just as no one knew that every penny that slipped so seemingly carelessly through his fingers he had earnt. His father had cut him off at eighteen expecting a repentant and obedient son to beg for the purse strings to be reinstated. He was still waiting.
It drove him mad, not having the financial control he yearned for over his son, drove him to distraction that he had no idea where or how Leo obtained the funds for his extravagant lifestyle. And the lifestyle he saw his only son, the future Conde de Olvares, choose to lead drove him craziest of all. Every photo of Leo at another party, in a new casino, with a new model on his arm guaranteed it, Leo made sure of that. In the Conde de Olvares’s rulebook appearances were everything, vices were to be hidden away.
Leo had taken his father’s rule and reversed it. Every vice on the surface for everyone to see, the virtues hidden far beneath. Truth was he barely attended any parties any more—and when he did usually stayed just long enough to be photographed. Valentina had taught him well. Perception was everything.
The nymph tilted her chin defiantly. ‘I’m sure I can learn. I can follow instructions.’
‘That’s good to know,’ Leo said softly and her cheeks burned a deeper red.
‘Look. I can see why you’re worried.’ Her gaze slid over to the nearest bungalow. ‘But I have assured you, repeatedly, that everything is under control.’
Leo followed her gaze. The bungalow was dirty, the white paint peeling off the external walls, the trees and flowers growing so close it was only a matter of time till nature recolonised the building. It needed nails in the roof, a lick of paint and a damn good clean. Hot, sweaty, hard manual work.
His eyes narrowed. Maybe the work would help fix the melancholy he couldn’t quite shake. Leo wasn’t sure he’d ever experienced real, unadulterated happiness, but for the past twelve years he had managed something resembling content; always on the move, always making money, always his own man. But ever since Valentina had announced her engagement, that contentment had become elusive, her glowing happiness a sharp contrast to his darkness.
Leo had always thought that they were cut from the same cloth, but now his baby sister was proving braver—or more foolhardy—than him. Either way Leo was left in her wake. It was an uncomfortable place to be.
His original intention had been to make a few phone calls and get a team of labourers despatched to La Isla Marina then return in a month’s time to enjoy the wedding, but maybe a few weeks getting his hands dirty on a beautiful island with a beautiful girl was exactly what he needed. Time out from his usual regime.
Turning, he held out his hand. ‘Leo di Marquez y Correa,’ he said and braced himself. There was no flare of recognition in her blue eyes, no rise of her straight, no nonsense brows. Nearly everyone Leo met had already formed an opinion of him. Most people either disapproved of him, wanted to party with him or wanted to sleep with him. A very few, those in the know, wanted his investment. He rarely, however, met with blank politeness bordering on disdain.
It would be an interesting challenge to turn that disdain to desire. His blood stirred at the very thought; he did have a few weeks with no plans after all...
‘Anna Gray,’ she said after a moment, making no move to take his hand. ‘Dr Anna Gray.’
‘A doctor as well as an expert on feminism in Europe’s history?’ He smiled to show he was joking, turning on the full force of his charm to see if he could tempt those pink lips to smile.
She didn’t respond in kind, folding her arms defensively. ‘I have a PhD from Oxford, not that it’s any of your business. Look, Señor di Marquez...’
‘Leo.’
‘I appreciate that things look a little ramshackle right now, and I know your sister’s wedding is going to get a lot of publicity...’
‘Publicity which will benefit you.’
‘But I assure you, we are quite capable of getting everything ready in plenty of time...’
‘Then I’m very sure another pair of hands will come in very useful. I’ll make it easy for you, Dr Gray. I’ll sleep on my boat and work for food alone. I won’t even tell my sister just how much needs to be done here. Tell me, are you really in a position to refuse?’
* * *
Anna hugged her notebook tighter, her mind working furiously. She should be snatching Leo’s offer with both hands, but something held her back. She didn’t know whether it was the sardonic look in his dark eyes, the smirk playing about his mouth or the teasing tone in his voice. It didn’t help that he was one of the most insanely handsome men she had ever seen in the flesh. Oxford wasn’t exactly short of overconfident men thinking they could win using their charm alone, but the city didn’t run to Spanish pirates, nor was she used to conducting conversations with practically bare-chested men.
It also didn’t help that her knees weakened every time he fixed that intense gaze on her, that she could feel her pulse speeding up faster and faster. Her friends had been telling her to get out and date more. This must be her body’s way of agreeing if one hard-eyed, hard-chested man could have this effect on her.
Anna dragged her thoughts away from Leo’s chest and back to the matter at hand, her eyes narrowing as she considered his far-too-good-to-be-true offer. ‘Don’t you have a job to go to? How will you manage to take a month off work with no notice?’
‘I work for myself and I am a famously forgiving boss.’
Lucrative boss if that boat was anything to judge by. ‘It’s not up to me,’ Anna said finally. ‘My mother owns the island.’
‘Then lead on. I’ll present my credentials to your leader.’
Anna tried to hold his amused gaze, but to her frustration her own dropped first. She could stand up in front of a full lecture theatre without breaking a sweat, turn overly confident undergraduates into shaking shadows of their former selves with one disbelieving arch of an eyebrow, but in front of this man her defences crumbled. ‘Fine,’ she said tightly. ‘Follow me.’
As she led him along the overgrown paths, Anna was aware of Leo’s keen gaze taking in every crack, every break in the path and the surrounding buildings and worry shivered through her once again. Had the resort
