LITMIR.BIZ

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to the lower deck. ‘Bring my granddaughter some coffee, will you? I think she’d prefer that to the wine.’

      By the time Dominic came back, Cleo was sipping her second cup of coffee.

      Her eyes darted instantly to his dark face, the enquiry evident in her troubled gaze. ‘Is he all right?’ she asked, putting her cup down as he crossed the deck towards her. ‘The cabins are air-conditioned, aren’t they? He’ll be able to breathe more easily if the air is cooler.’

      ‘Yeah, he’ll be OK.’ Dominic flung himself back into his chair and regarded her with an intensity of purpose she couldn’t possibly sustain. ‘How about you?’

      ‘Me?’ Cleo considered picking up her cup again, if only for protection, but she was afraid she might spill its contents. ‘I’m OK.’ She glanced determinedly about her. ‘This certainly is a beautiful place.’

      ‘Yes, it is.’ Dominic pulled in a long breath and then went for the jugular. ‘I wondered if you’d come.’

      Cleo’s eyes widened. ‘Your grandfather invited me,’ she said, and he noted she was back to saying ‘your’ grandfather and not ‘my’. ‘Besides, I wanted to see something of the island before I leave.’

      Dominic’s stomach hollowed. ‘You’re leaving!’

      ‘In a few days, yes,’ said Cleo, concentrating on her finger nudging at her saucer. ‘I’d have thought you’d be pleased. If I’m not here, I’m not a threat, am I?’

      ‘A threat!’ Dominic’s tone hardened. ‘A threat to whom?’

      Cleo pressed her lips together. ‘You know.’

      ‘What the hell’s that supposed to mean?’ Dominic stared at her, his eyes as cold as green ice. ‘If you’re implying that I might be upset if the old man decides to leave all his money to you—’

      ‘No!’ Cleo had to look at him now, anguish in her dark gaze. ‘I’d never think anything like that.’ She licked her lips with an agitated tongue. ‘You can’t think I want Jacob’s money! Any of it! I shouldn’t be here. I don’t belong here. I—I just want to get on with my life.’

      ‘This is your life now,’ stated Dominic harshly. He hated the look of horror he’d brought to her face. But she had to understand that Jacob wasn’t about to let her go, not without a whole raft of conditions. ‘And you do belong here, Cleo. As much as any of us, actually.’

      ‘No—’

      ‘Yes.’ With some relucance Dominic got up from his seat and came to take the one his grandfather had vacated beside her. ‘You’re Robert’s daughter. You can’t get away from that. Jacob won’t let you.’

      Cleo blew out an unsteady breath and Dominic realised she was trembling. Tiny goosebumps had blossomed all over those pale almond shoulders, enveloping the smooth skin of her throat and puckering the rounded curve of her breasts.

      And he had to touch her.

      To comfort her, he defended himself. But the minute his hand contacted the fine bones of her shoulder, he wanted to do so much more.

      In consequence, his voice was harsher than it should have been when he said, ‘Is the prospect of staying here so terrible?’

      Cleo glanced sideways at him. ‘Not terrible, no,’ she said tensely. ‘But, please, let me go. This isn’t helping anyone.’

      It’s helping me, thought Dominic unevenly, aware of his pulsing arousal.

      But she was right. He was behaving like an idiot.

      Yet, ‘Don’t you like me touching you?’ he asked thickly, all too aware of the warmth of her bare thigh brushing his trousered leg. ‘That’s not the impression I got before.’

      ‘Bastard!’

      The word was barely audible, but the way she thrust back her chair and got to her feet showed how angry she was. Casting a contemptuous glance over her shoulder, she strode across the deck to the rail, and for a moment Dominic had the uneasy feeling that she intended to jump over the side.

      But all she did was grip the rail with both hands and stare out across the water. He guessed her knuckles must be white, judging by the taut muscles tensing in her arms. The stiff line of her spine was eloquent of the resentment she was feeling, the sweet curve of her buttocks above those spectacular thighs made him itch to cup them in his hands.

      Dear God!

      He dragged his hands through his hair, aware that this wasn’t the way he’d intended to play it. Dammit, she had a low enough opinion of him as it was without him making it ten times worse. Yet something about her got under his skin. When he was with her, he couldn’t think about anything—or anyone—else.

      Common sense was telling him to go and get changed into something cooler and take her into town. He’d promised his grandfather he’d look after her, and that didn’t include touching her every chance he got.

      Getting to his feet, he stood for a moment regarding that rigid back, and then, almost of their own volition, his feet moved in her direction.

      He stopped directly behind her, but she didn’t turn. She must have heard his approach, he thought impatiently, waving the ever-attentive waiter away. The soles of his Oxfords made a distinct sound against the floor of the deck.

      ‘Talk to me,’ he said, his breath fluttering the wisps of sable silk that had escaped her scarf. ‘Dammit, Cleo, I’m not the only one involved here. You wanted me yesterday morning. You can’t deny it. If I hadn’t called a halt…’

      Cleo clamped her jaws together. She had nothing to say to him. But he was right. However passionately she might try to convince herself that he’d been totally to blame for what had happened, nothing could alter the fact that she’d been completely blown away by his kisses, had been drowning in the sensuous beauty of his mouth.

      Her silence angered Dominic. Drawing the wrong conclusions, he did something he would never have done if she’d only admitted there were faults on both sides.

      Moving closer, he placed a hand on the rail at either side of her. Now she was imprisoned against the chrome-plated barrier, his lean body taut against her back.

      She moved then, tried to turn, but he wouldn’t let her. With the scent of her warm body rising to his nostrils and the agitated movements she was making only adding to his unwilling response, there was no way he was going to let her go.

      Pressing closer, he let her feel the unmistakable thrust of his arousal. Wedged one leg between hers to feel her sensual heat.

      The little moan that issued from her lips when he bent his head and bit the soft skin at the side of her neck was almost his undoing.

      It was so fragile, so anguished, and a knot twisted in his belly at the sound. But the desire to turn her round and feel her breasts pucker against his chest was consuming any lingering sense he had left.

      ‘Dominic…’

      Her whispered protest only added to the urgent need he had to touch her. The sinuous pressure of her thighs against his pelvis almost drove him crazy with need.

      ‘I want you,’ he said, his voice barely recognisable to his own ears, it was so thick and hoarse with emotion. ‘I don’t care about anything else. I just want to feel you naked in my arms.’

      ‘And then what?’ Cleo challenged him unsteadily, even as her treacherous body arched back against him.

      She so much wanted to give in. But she had to remember who he was, what he was: a man who apparently cared for nothing but his own needs.

      She took a deep breath. ‘Perhaps you’re thinking, like mother, like daughter. That I’m no better than Celeste. That just because a white man looked at her—a married man, moreover—she was happy to let him screw her brains out.’

      ‘No!’

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