ТОП просматриваемых книг сайта:
Mediterranean Tycoons. JACQUELINE BAIRD
Читать онлайн.Название Mediterranean Tycoons
Год выпуска 0
isbn
Автор произведения JACQUELINE BAIRD
Жанр Современные любовные романы
Издательство HarperCollins
She walked past him, her head high, and made it to the kitchen. With a smile for Anna, busy arranging pastries on a tray, she took a bottle of water from the fridge. She picked up a glass from the bench and sat down at the table with a sigh of relief. She poured the sparkling water into the glass and, lifting it to her lips, drank most of it down in one go.
‘You look like you needed that,’ Anna said, and the compassion in the older woman’s dark eyes restored Selina’s mood a little.
‘You are right, Anna—I did.’ Selina sighed. ‘I never expected the funeral service to be so long. I thought I was going to faint with the heat at the graveside.’ It had nothing to do with the hateful Rion and her recent brush with him.
‘Not surprising. It has been a stressful day for everyone. But hiding in here won’t help.’
‘I’m not hiding—simply taking a break from the guests. Most of whom I don’t know anyway,’ Selina said truthfully.
But she harboured no doubts that they all knew her, and knew the lurid stories about her. From illegitimate granddaughter to adulterous wife, she thought bitterly.
‘One guest you know well: Orion Moralis. I’m sorry, it must have been a shock for you seeing him here. It never occurred to me he that would come to the funeral, because after you left he never spoke to your grandfather again. But I suppose it is the socially correct thing to do.’
‘More likely good business,’ Selina said dryly. ‘And there is no need to apologize. I’ve spoken to Rion and we are friends—it is fine,’ she lied.
‘Thank goodness for that. Apparently his yacht arrived late last night. According to the gardener, who spoke to one of the crew this morning, they were heading to the Egyptian coast but diverted to here. It seems a lot of effort to attend the funeral of a man he had not seen in years. I was worried there might be something else, and I didn’t want to see you hurt again.’
Anna knew the truth about their brief marriage. Selina had confided in Anna when she had so ignominiously been sent back to her grandfather, and Anna believed Selina’s version of events.
‘There is no fear of that happening,’ Selina said, rising to her feet. ‘Now the funeral is over and everything is settled I will be leaving tomorrow morning. I have a flight booked back to England tomorrow night, so I can spend a week with Aunt Peggy before returning to work. I promise, Anna, you have nothing to worry about. You can carry on as usual, looking after the villa until you want to retire. I know my grandfather will have taken care of you.’ She knew this to be true, as her grandfather had told her so before he died. ‘Now I’d better get back to the guests. Hopefully they will start leaving soon.’
‘Good idea. I’ll tell my two girls to slow down with the refreshments—that usually works.’ Anna grinned.
Straightening her shoulders, Selina walked back into the main living room that opened out onto a wide terrace that overlooked the bay and noted that a lot of the guests were outside.
She spotted Rion at once. He was taller than everyone else and standing with two men—probably discussing business. From the couple of social events he had taken her to in the past, she knew that was all he ever did.
As she watched she saw him turn as an older grey-haired man joined the group. The man said something and Rion threw back his head and laughed, his hair shimmering black as a raven’s wing in the sun, his teeth shining brilliant white against his olive-toned skin.
A little curl of heat rippled through Selina’s body—because whatever else Rion was, there was no denying he was breathtakingly attractive. She was disgusted with herself for still reacting to the man, and yet she could not look away. But she wished she had as suddenly Lydia appeared and reached up to kiss Rion on the cheek.
Selina stiffened. It was a timely reminder. How had she not noticed Lydia at the funeral? Or the older man whose arm Lydia now casually looped through hers—obviously her long-suffering husband.
Poor fool, Selina thought cynically, her blood turning to ice in her veins. In that moment Rion looked across at her. Coolly she held his gaze, saw the mocking amusement in his eyes as he raised his glass. A gesture of recognition or in invitation to join the group? She didn’t know or care which, and she turned and walked back inside.
She’d been cured of Rion ages ago, and what she had just witnessed in the garden confirmed her immunity. She strolled across to where the owner of the village bar and some of the other locals stood, and joined their group.
An hour later, with the whirring of helicopter blades, the guests began to leave. Selina smiled and listened to fulsome speeches until her jaw ached, and soon there was only Mr Kadiekis and a few villagers, chatting with a relaxed Anna and her daughters.
‘You still here, Rion?’ she asked with a frown as her ex-husband stopped in front of her. But her pulse didn’t so much as flicker. She had assumed he had gone—or to be honest hoped he had … ‘I thought you would have left by now. The gardener said you interrupted your cruise for the funeral. Very noble, but don’t let us delay you any longer,’ she said bluntly.
Rion arched a brow as he leant a broad shoulder against the wall, effectively blocking her view of most of the room.
‘Your concern is touching, Selina, but I am not in any hurry. Obviously you still have an affinity with gardeners because your information is correct—I am taking a break.’
If his crude crack about gardeners was meant to rile her he was wasting his time. She was totally immune to him.
‘Take a tip from me, Rion—a funeral is not a great way to start a holiday. So feel free to leave as soon as you like,’ she said facetiously.
Rion straightened, trying to ease the almost permanent ache in his groin, which he had acquired since seeing Selina on the beach last night, her gorgeous body clad in the sexy white bikini. For an instant a vivid memory filled his mind. She had stood before him once wearing plain white briefs and a white cotton bra, a picture of innocence, her skin flushed and as soft as silk beneath his fingers as he undressed her completely, here on this island. He felt some indefinable emotion flow through him. Regret?
No. He dismissed the thought that swirled in his mind. He did not do emotions. He just wanted Selina again, and he was determined to have her by friendly means or foul. He didn’t care which, so long as she was his soon.
‘I intend to,’ he said. ‘But as you appear to be free of any male companion at the moment, I thought as an old friend you might like to join me on my yacht for a while.’ He lifted a finger and brushed a tendril of hair behind her ear. ‘You are no longer a teenager, Selina. You have changed into a feisty and exquisitely beautiful woman. I like the new you,’ he said huskily. ‘And the attraction between us is still there. We could have fun. What do you say?’
Rion’s searching gaze swept over the beautiful face turned up to his. In a perfect scenario Selina would say yes, but he half expected an angry no. Her face revealed nothing. She didn’t so much as blink.
‘Your grandfather’s death must have been stressful for you. A couple of weeks cruising will help you unwind, and we can get reacquainted.’
Still no response. Slowly it dawned on Rion that Selina was not reacting as he’d expected—not reacting at all …
‘It is a very kind offer, but I am not interested, thank you,’ she said politely, her usually expressive eyes oddly opaque.
From the first time they’d met