be serious.’
‘Why not?’
‘Why not?’ She made a sound of disbelief. ‘Why—he doesn’t even like me!’
Cole’s eyes dropped. ‘Maybe he does,’ he said, picking up the spoon that was lying beside the unused place-setting in front of him. ‘Maybe he doesn’t.’ He spun the spoon between his fingers. ‘In any case, he says he wants to see you, and that’s all there is to it.’
‘You wish!’ Joanna stared at him incredulously. ‘If you think I’m going to give up my holiday to go and see an old man who never even gave me the time of day, if he could help it, you’re very much mistaken!’
Cole looked up, and the blue eyes were as cold as steel between narrowed lids. ‘Are you really that hard?’ he asked, his lips curling contemptuously. ‘God, Ma said you wouldn’t come, but I didn’t believe her.’
‘Believe it,’ said Joanna flatly, pressing her hands down on the table and getting to her feet. ‘I wish I could say it’s been a pleasure, Cole, but lying was never my strong point!’
‘Like hell!’
Cole had kicked the chair out from under him, and was up on his feet to confront her, before she could make good her escape. And, even though she stood a good five feet nine inches in her ankle boots, she was no match for his six feet plus. Add to that broad shoulders, a flat stomach, and long muscular legs, and she could see no means of retreat. Short of causing a scene, of course, and Joanna didn’t want to do that, when this was only the second morning of her holiday.
‘Isn’t this rather ridiculous, Cole?’ she asked, looking up at him rather tensely. ‘What do you hope to achieve? You can’t force me to go with you.’
‘Can’t I?’
Cole’s response was predictable enough, but it lacked conviction, and Joanna realised that, for all his belligerence, he was unsure of his ground. It gave her a feeling of triumph just watching him—a rippling sensation of pleasure she hadn’t felt before.
‘I think you’d better get out of my way,’ she said, not afraid to meet his gaze. ‘What can you do to me—that you haven’t already done?’
‘Son of a——’
Cole bit off the expletive, but not before Joanna had glimpsed the raw frustration in his eyes. It was the first time she ever remembered him being at a loss for words, and there was a tantalising enjoyment in watching him squirm.
‘So, if you’ll excuse me——’
Brushing his chest with just the tips of her fingers, Joanna edged around him—and he let her. It was rather like baiting a tiger, she thought, the fluttering excitement in her throat threatening to choke her. It was so intoxicating that she felt quite high, and she could hardly contain herself as she deliberately sauntered across the terrace and into the hotel.
She knew his eyes followed her. She could feel them, boring into her back, as she swayed provocatively between the tables. And she was glad he would see nothing to betray the emotional trauma he had once wrought in her life. Her figure was as slim now as it had ever been, due as much to hard work as careful dieting. Her legs were long, and shown to some advantage in the frayed Bermudas she was wearing with a buttoned vest. Even her hair had the shiny patina of good health, longer now than she used to wear it, and caught at her nape in a silver barrette.
Of course, she came down to earth again as quickly as she had gone up. As soon as she was inside the glass screens, which had been folded back to allow free access between the indoor and outdoor sections of the restaurant, the sense of exhilaration she had felt while she was with Cole quickly abated. Besides, once the desire to thwart his plans had been accomplished, she was troubled by an annoying twinge of conscience. Whatever Cole thought, she was not as hard as he imagined. And, although it was true that Ryan Macallister had never accepted her as Cole’s wife, he was an old man, and dying, if Cole was to be believed.
She paused in the lobby of the hotel, not sure now of what she wanted to do. She had been intending to get a book from her room and spend the morning sitting in the sun, but her confrontation with her ex-husband had left her disturbed and restless.
She needed her swimsuit anyway, so, forcing thoughts of Cole aside, she took the lift up to her room. She was on the fourth floor just one below the penthouse suites. She had a large room, that was part-sitting-room, part-bedroom, with a wide balcony overlooking the Atlantic. All the rooms had balconies, but they were made private by the solid walls that divided them.
As she stripped off her vest and shorts and put on a scarlet maillot, Joanna couldn’t help wondering where Cole was staying. She guessed he must have flown down from Charleston yesterday evening, and it was infinitely possible that he was staying at this hotel. But he had probably just booked in for one night. He had no doubt expected to persuade her to fly back with him later today.
She sighed, regarding her reflection in the long closet mirrors, without really noticing how well the strapless swimsuit looked. Perhaps she should just sunbathe on her balcony this morning, she was thinking. She didn’t think Cole would know her actual room number, and even if he did he was unlikely to come looking for her.
Then she frowned. No, she told herself firmly. She was not going to run away from this. She had proved she could challenge Cole and get away with it. Why shouldn’t she do so again, if it was necessary? It didn’t matter what he said, or what he thought of her. She was a free woman. She could do what she liked.
In any case, she added, in a less than radical afterthought, Cole was unlikely to hang around, once he realised she meant what she said. It was early May, after all. A busy time of the year for him. And if his father was seriously ill——
But Joanna refused to think about it. She would not allow herself to feel guilty about a man who had always hated her, and her beliefs. Dear God, he had even destroyed his own son in his efforts to get what he wanted!
The phone rang as she was pulling an outsize T-shirt over her head. The baggy cotton garment barely skimmed her thighs, but its shoulders would keep her cool if the sun got too hot. It served the dual purpose of covering her swimsuit and providing protection, and she liked it better than some custom-made jacket.
When the phone rang, she hastily jammed her arms into the sleeves, and tugged it down around her. Then, halfway to answer the call, she halted. What if it was Cole? She was not sure she was ready yet for another altercation. She needed time to build her defences. She wasn’t sure she was as immune to his censure as she thought.
But the realisation that it was more likely to be her mother, calling to make sure everything was OK, forced her to think again. Neither of her parents had been particularly keen on her taking this holiday alone, not to mention travelling so far from her home in London. In spite of her abortive marriage to Cole—or perhaps because of it—they had become increasingly protective, and, although she had phoned them on her arrival two days ago, they probably wanted an update on her movements.
Even so, there was a definite edge to her tone as she picked up the receiver, and the woman’s voice that greeted her revealed a similar tension.
‘Jo? Jo, darling, is that you? Oh, God, you sound so clear. Are you really thousands of miles away?’
Joanna’s relief was almost palpable, and, running her tongue over her dry lips, she smoothed one damp palm down the seam of her T-shirt. But with
