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cheese course, all washed down with a rather good rioja. Sancia Garcia might not know how to run a hotel, but she did know how to employ a good cook and right now, sitting on a sheltered patio with a view of white beaches and an azure-blue sea, Leo felt a stir of that elusive contentment for the first time in months.

      Sure, there was an entire island to be renovated and made fit for Valentina’s arrival in just under a month, but the sense of urgency was lessened by the rich dark coffee, the richer wine and the last sliver of cheese temptingly within reach. Lessened by the knowledge he could make a phone call and an army of labourers would be despatched forth to take care of every detail. But mostly lessened by Dr Anna Gray’s palatable disapproval. She had only eaten soup and a little cheese, had refused wine and was very obviously making copious lists proving just how busy she really was.

      It was quite adorable. Not that Leo looked for adorable in women. He didn’t really look for anything beyond the very, very superficial. What was the point when he had no intention of getting into anything deeper than casual? He chose carefully, ensuring the women he dated were as uninterested in his inner life as he was in theirs. He needed to be sure that they wouldn’t be looking too closely at him. Too closely into him. That all they were interested in was his blue blood and deep pockets.

      Of course here, out of the public eye, the usual rules didn’t apply. It would be an interesting challenge to see just what it took to make Dr Anna Gray put down her pen and notepad, wipe those frown lines off her forehead and smile. Interesting, but all too risky. He’d known Anna for less than three hours and he already knew that she was the type who would always dig deeper—and that made her dangerous. Besides, he was pretty sure she didn’t understand the ‘good time’ rule and that made her absolutely off-limits.

      ‘Hit me.’ He pushed his coffee cup to one side, propping his elbows on the table as he turned towards Anna. ‘What’s first?’

      Anna brushed a lock of dark hair away from her forehead and Leo froze, awareness of her every movement shivering through him. For one endless second she was imprinted on him, her long graceful neck, her sweep of long, wavy hair, the shrewd expression in her clear blue eyes, and the vulnerability he saw behind them, a vulnerability he sensed was usually kept well hidden.

      ‘First?’

      Leo nodded at the notebook Anna carried like a talisman. ‘On your list.’

      ‘Oh.’ Her hand lay over the page protectively. ‘I’ve put together a list of supplies we need before we can really get started so I think I need to take a trip over to the mainland today. There really isn’t any time to waste.’ She glared meaningfully at his plate. ‘Mama, I’ll need to take your dinghy. Is that okay? Is the car still kept in the same place?’

      ‘No need to borrow your mother’s boat. I’ll sail you over.’ Leo sat back in his chair and watched Anna try and come up with an excuse to avoid his company.

      Anna blinked. ‘There’s no point taking your boat such a short distance.’

      ‘No, but my dinghy is at your dock.’

      Sancia glanced from Leo to Anna, her expression amused. ‘The car is parked in the harbour lot as always, querida. There’s a big store on the outskirts of town, about five kilometres from the harbour. You can’t miss it.’

      ‘Right.’ Anna pushed her chair back and stood up. ‘Let’s go.’

      Leo didn’t move.

      She tapped her foot, her eyes gleaming dangerously. ‘In your own time, señor.’

      Sancia sighed, shaking her head at her daughter. ‘Querida, you are in Spain now. The store will be closed for siesta. There’s no point in going now.’

      ‘A siesta sounds like an excellent suggestion.’ Leo winked at Anna. ‘I’ll see you at the jetty in two hours, Dr Gray. Bring your lists.’ And he stood up. ‘Thank you, Sancia, that was delicious.’ He bowed over Sancia’s hand and tossed another wink in Anna’s direction before sauntering away, fully aware that Anna was glaring at him. His back prickled with awareness; he could almost feel the burn as her eyes bored into him.

      Funny to think he had had no agenda this morning beyond popping over to what he had assumed to be a perfectly run luxury resort in order to reassure his sister. Now he had a month’s work ahead of him and a hostile colleague. He couldn’t wait to get started.

      * * *

      Anna stared down at the bucket of tepid, dirty water resentfully. She’d decided not to waste the two hours her mother and Leo were choosing to spend sleeping and instead had got started scrubbing down the outside of a couple of bungalows. Not that she had got very far. Right now getting the island into any kind of order seemed like a Sisyphean task—especially if long lunches and longer siestas were going to be the order of the day.

      Still, at least she had made a start. She would get the groundskeeper and chambermaid to continue while she was on the mainland; but she really needed to talk to her mother and find out when the seasonal staff were due to start, and how many they were expecting. Without adequate staffing they would never get the island ready in time. Luckily the interiors of the bungalows were in a better state than she’d expected. They needed some cosmetic work, a good clean, taps and showers fixing, a quick paint, but the furniture was still good, simple, but well-crafted. A few luxurious touches, new cushions, rugs and accessories should bring them up to date. After all, if Valentina wanted marble and gilt she would have booked a hotel. She was after an authentic Spanish touch and that, at least, La Isla Marina could provide.

      Picking up the bucket, Anna tipped the water down the drain. She’d worked her way through several buckets of water, lugging them to the desired spot, sloshing water down her legs as she did so. Her hands were red, two nails already broken. She made a mental note to add gloves to her list.

      Had it really only been half an hour of work? It felt like eternity and she had barely started. This morning she’d been full of a sense of purpose, if a little daunted. Now she just felt like Cinderella, toiling away while the rest of the household slumbered, and just because she had volunteered for domestic drudgery didn’t mean she couldn’t help feeling resentful. She wouldn’t mind so much if Rosa weren’t swanking about somewhere, carefree, on the other side of the world, if her mother didn’t look at her as if she were being fussy, if Leo di Marquez hadn’t shown up...

      Anna pushed her hair off her forehead, grimacing as she realised just how sweaty she was. What was Leo’s deal anyway? What kind of man just decided to put a month aside for his sister’s wedding with no planning, no notice? Placing the bucket on the floor, Anna tried to stop her mind dwelling on the planes of Leo’s chest, the strong, sensual mouth, his mocking eyes. He knew how attractive he was all right—and there was nothing Anna distrusted more than a man convinced of his own worth, his own desirability. After all, she’d been taken in before, been badly burnt before.

      She’d mishandled him from the first, allowing him to put her on the back foot even though he was the trespasser. It wouldn’t—couldn’t—happen again. She needed weapons, she needed armour, she needed control, she needed facts.

      Her mother and sister might rely on intuition and spontaneity, but there was much more comfort in knowledge and plans. That was why she had become an academic, not because of her father’s pre-eminence or because it was expected of her, but because she liked to dig deep, to find out the facts, to draw her own interpretation. If Leo’s sister was some kind of media star then it shouldn’t be too hard to find out exactly who he was, what he was. And then she would be prepared.

      Mind made up, Anna headed back to the villa, letting herself through the hidden door that separated the public spaces from the family’s private rooms. The wooden staircase was narrow and dark as she climbed all the way to the top floor and the turret bedroom that had been hers since she was a baby. Nothing had changed: the same iron bedstead stood in the corner, the same pictures hung on the whitewashed walls, the same colourful blankets were heaped on the bed. It was sparse and small, but Anna liked the memories of when they had been a proper family, Rosa in the other turret, her parents nearby, her grandparents still alive.

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