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the attention, not him. He felt a stab of something reprehensible, and recognised it as envy. The days when he’d hoped to play rugby for England weren’t so far away, but the past could never be recaptured. He had learned to adapt and change direction since then; he’d moved on. But the facts remained: the injuries he’d sustained during a prolonged beating by a gang of thugs had meant the club doctors had been unable to sign the insurance documents he needed to play his part in the professional game. And so his career had come to an abrupt and unwanted end.

      But none of this was Savannah’s fault. He might be drawn to her, but he wouldn’t taint her with his darkness. He would fight the attraction he felt for her. Some might say he needed a woman like Savannah to soften him, but he knew that the last thing Savannah needed in her life was a man like him.

      ‘I’m sorry you’ve missed the match, Ethan.’

      The river was quieter here and he cut the engines. ‘Don’t worry about it. I’ll watch the replay on television later.’

      ‘But you can’t detect the scent of excitement on a screen,’ she said with concern.

      Or feel the ravages of failure, the blaze of triumph … Yes, he knew that, but he was surprised Savannah did. ‘It’s no big deal.’

      ‘Yes it is,’ she said, pulling a face that made him think how pretty she was. ‘You’d be there now if it wasn’t for me.’ Frowning with concern, she began plucking threads from his ancient shirt.

      He didn’t prolong the exchange. He didn’t like people getting close to him. He was a bear licking his wounds in the shadows, full of unresolved conflict and bitterness, and chose not to inflict himself on anyone—least of all an innocent young girl like Savannah.

      ‘Watching England play must be both a passion and a torment for you.’

      Why wouldn’t she let it rest?

      ‘Perhaps,’ he agreed, accepting she meant no harm by these comments and was only trying to make conversation. It was public knowledge that the damage to his spine had ended his career. Lifting he could do, running he could do, but to risk another knock, another blow …

      ‘You could let me off here, if it’s quicker for you.’

      He followed her gaze to a nearby landing stage. ‘I could let you swim to the far bank,’ he offered dryly. ‘That might save some time.’

      Her expression lifted, which pleased him. He didn’t want to intimidate her, though his appearance must have done that already. Mooring up and calling a cab to take her to the airport was what he should do. He should let her go.

      But the decision was taken out of his hands by the sound of rotor blades. The paparazzi’s helicopter was still some way off, but it was approaching fast. There was no time to do anything more than hit the throttle and tell Savannah to hold on.

      ‘They’ve found us?’ she shouted above the roar of the engines.

      Oh, yes. The race was back on. And no way was he going to let them catch her. ‘Yes, they’ve found us,’ he confirmed grimly. ‘Sit tight.’

      The spray was in her hair, her eyes, and her knuckles had turned white with holding on. If she’d been nervous before, she was terrified now. It was one thing showing a brave face to the world when things were going well, but the black, menacing shadow of the paparazzi helicopter would soon beam a travesty of the true situation around the world. Adding fuel to the paparazzi’s fire, she was forced to cling to Ethan as he pushed the powerboat to its limits, because he was the only stable element in a world that was tipping and yawing as the currents played bat and ball with their hull.

      Nothing had gone right for Ethan since she’d turned up in Rome, Savannah thought guiltily, and though he hardly knew her he had insisted on fighting her corner in spite of the personal cost to him. He must be wondering what he’d done to deserve such aggravation!

      CHAPTER FIVE

      AS A surge of water threw the delicately balanced boat off kilter, Ethan fastened his arm protectively around Savannah’s shoulders. At first she tensed, but then slowly relaxed. Ethan had no idea how profoundly his protective instinct affected her. Coming from a man as cold as he was, his smallest touch bore the intensity of a kiss. She could get used to this physical closeness all too easily. But they would soon reach the airport, she would fly home, and she would be nothing more than a tiresome memory to him. But at least the helicopter was wheeling away. ‘Fuel shortage?’ she suggested hopefully.

      ‘I think you’re being a little over-optimistic,’ Ethan said as he powered back the engines. ‘My best guess is they got the photographs they came for and their work is done.’

      ‘How can you be so calm about it? Don’t you care?’

      ‘I don’t waste time regretting things that can’t be changed.’

      ‘But they breached your privacy. Won’t you make some sort of protest?’

      Her heart jolted to see Ethan’s lips tug in a smile. ‘I hope you’re not suggesting I should try to curb the freedom of the press?’

      ‘Of course not, but.’

      ‘But?’ he pressed.

      ‘Well, I just can’t roll over.’

      ‘You don’t have to,’ he pointed out. ‘It’s happened and I’ll deal with it.’

      ‘Okay, well, my parents are going to be devastated. What if the press are there right now, hammering on their door? Ethan, I have to call them.’

      He couldn’t imagine anyone else on earth in this predicament thinking of placing an international call, but he was fast learning that Savannah’s first thought was always for others, and he envied the loving relationship she obviously enjoyed with her parents and would never stand in the way of it. ‘I’ll speak to them first to reassure them, and then you can speak,’ he suggested, warming to her.

      ‘Would you really do that?’

      Her relief made him think he should have done it sooner. ‘Number?’

      As she recited it he punched it in to his mobile phone, and it occurred to him that Savannah must have no idea how lucky she was to have a loving family.

      ‘You didn’t have to do that,’ she said several minutes later when she had finished speaking to her mother.

      ‘I wanted to,’ he admitted. ‘It was the right thing to do,’ he added sternly when Savannah’s face softened into a smile.

      ‘It was very kind of you.’

      ‘It was nothing,’ he argued, turning his attention back to sailing the boat. ‘All I did was point out that my legal team will handle any press intrusion, and reassure your parents that they mustn’t worry because you were safe with me.’

      ‘You gave them your private number.’

      ‘How else are they supposed to call me?’

      ‘Well, thank you,’ she said sincerely.

      ‘Your mother seemed reassured,’ he said, unbending a little. His reward was to see Savannah’s face softening into a smile.

      Her mother had been reassured, Savannah reflected with relief. Her romantic mother had always been a sucker for a strong man, though she preferred them safely corralled on the cover of a book or on a screen at the cinema, and kept a well-trained beta hero at home. She wondered if her mother would be quite so reassured if she could see Ethan in the flesh.

      ‘I have another call to make,’ Ethan told her, turning away.

      As Ethan stood in profile his scars were cruelly exposed, and it appalled her to think one person could do that to another. But surely it couldn’t have been one person—it had to have been more—a gang, maybe? She’d felt a fraction of Ethan’s strength today and he was bigger, stronger and fitter than most men. What kamikaze

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