LITMIR.BIZ

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herself from her family.

      ‘I don’t think families suck.’ She dragged her eyes from his mouth, horrified to find herself thinking about sex. Again. ‘But sometimes they’re messy. I still think you should stick together. Is your brother older than you?’

      His gaze was watchful. ‘If you don’t want to end up in the pool, you should change the subject.’

      ‘Sorry. I’m not used to having banned topics of conversation. I’ll try and talk about the weather. Or the gardens. This place is truly beautiful.’ Katie looked around her and saw a mesh of palm trees and foliage, the green broken up by splashes of bright tropical colour. Spotting a large green gecko basking in the sun by the pool, she reached in her bag for a sketchbook.

      ‘You’re drawing him?’

      ‘Why not? He’s lovely.’ Her pencil flew over the page and she took out a box of pastels and played with colour combinations. ‘I love the mix of turquoise and tropical green. Those colours would be gorgeous in silk.’ She narrowed her eyes, imagining it, spinning designs in her head.

      ‘If you like colours so much, why do you always wear brown.’

      Her pencil stilled. ‘I like brown.’ And she was invisible in brown. Katie tightened her grip on the pencil. Just holding it soothed her. ‘I still love the feel of my pencil. It reminds me of when I was a child. I used to watch all the Hollywood movies and redesign the costumes.’

      He locked his arms behind his head. Muscles rippled. ‘Favourite movie of all time?’

      ‘Gone with the Wind.’ She kept her eyes on her sketch pad and not on those muscles. ‘Fabulous costumes and so romantic. What about you? I guess it’s Alpha Man.’

      ‘I never watch my own movies.’ Dropping his arms, he leaned across and looked at her drawing. ‘I love the old Hitchcock films. The 39 Steps and Notorious—Cary Grant. One of the greatest actors never to win a Sapphire.’

      ‘Does it mean that much? Winning a Sapphire?’

      His answer was to spring to his feet and dive into the pool.

      Katie put down the pencil, feeling guilty

      She shouldn’t ask him anything personal. It wasn’t as if they knew each other. They were just two strangers trapped together by unfortunate circumstances. And yet, after the emotion she’d witnessed at the theatre and in her flat, she felt as though she did know him. She knew little bits—Annabelle, Carrie—small pieces of a jigsaw that meant nothing because there was no picture.

      Frustrated, she watched as he cooled off in the pool. The sweat prickled her back. The sundress felt like a coat but there was no way she was removing it.

      The initial euphoria at finding herself in paradise, dimmed. It was only paradise if you could afford the time off. She couldn’t. If she couldn’t find herself another job fast, she wouldn’t be able to pay the mortgage. Her career would stall. Her dream would die.

      And she wasn’t prepared to give up on her dream.

      By the time Nathaniel pulled himself out of the pool her stress levels had reached breaking point. ‘Does this place have Internet access?’

      He reached for a towel and dried his face. ‘Why?’

      ‘I need to look for a job. You said you’d introduce me to costume designers, but I don’t see how you can do that when we’re here. I need to do some job hunting.’

      ‘Wait there.’ Without enlightening her as to his intentions, he strolled into the villa. Moments later he emerged carrying a thick sheaf of papers held together by an elastic band. He dropped it into her lap. ‘Read that. It’s the script for my next movie.

      I’m finalising the funding soon. We haven’t chosen a costume designer yet.’

      Katie stared at the sheets of paper, looking for the meaning behind the gesture. He felt guilty? No, Nathaniel Wolfe didn’t do guilt. Then why? Just to shut her up, she decided. To give her something to occupy her so that he didn’t have to spend time with her. ‘There’s no way you’d give it to someone like me.’

      ‘Do me some sketches and we’ll talk.’

      She kept the hope ruthlessly in check. ‘Because your conscience is pricking you and you feel guilty that you lost me my job?’

      ‘I’ve already told you, when it comes to my work, I don’t have a conscience.’ Without a flicker of regret or apology, he confirmed her own thoughts on that topic. ‘I pick the best person for the job. I liked the drawings I saw in your flat. The question is, can you do it again with a contemporary script? This isn’t Shakespeare.’

      He liked her drawings enough to give her a chance? ‘Are you acting or directing?’

      ‘Directing. Don’t think about actors when you read it—just think about the characters.’

      ‘So are you giving up film acting?’ Refusing to be intimidated by his silence, she tightened her fingers on the wedge of papers in her lap. ‘Was that why you agreed to a stint on the stage in London?’

      ‘Don’t you ever stop asking questions?’

      ‘Sorry. I’m not good with silences. I’m trying to be polite.’

      ‘We’re not at a palace garden party.’ His soft drawl brushed over her nerve endings and Katie looked at him.

      ‘You’re not the only one finding this situation difficult. You could be a little more friendly.’ And a little less intimidating. A little less masculine. A little less … everything.

      The smile that tugged the corners of his mouth definitely wasn’t friendly. It was dangerous. ‘Change into a bikini and I’ll show you how friendly I can be.’

      He was just baiting her, she knew that. He couldn’t possibly be serious. A man who had his pick of women wasn’t ever going to pick her.

      Katie thought about her sister’s perfect bone structure and endless legs. Next to Paula, she’d never felt anything but depressingly ordinary and a man like Nathaniel Wolfe was never going to be interested in ordinary.

      Her fingers tightened around the bunch of papers. ‘How long until dinner?’

      If he wasn’t going to talk, she might as well read the script.

      Nathaniel waited impatiently, his fingers strumming a rhythm on the table. Two messages sat unopened on his phone, both from Jacob.

      His temper and his mood simmered along at one degree under boiling point. Even on the other side of the world, his past hunted him. ‘Did Katie say how long she would be?’

      ‘I knocked on her door but there was no answer. I thought she might have been asleep. You had a long flight.’ Ben poured chilled wine into a glass. ‘You want me to call her again?’

      ‘I’ll do it myself.’ Desperate for distraction, Nathaniel left the phone on the table and strode back inside the villa towards the guest suite. The door was shut. He tapped once and received no answer so he opened the door and walked in.

      And stopped dead.

      Katie lay on her stomach on the bed, dressed only in a skimpy lace plunge bra and an equally skimpy thong, both in the same shade of hot pink. The headphones from her bright pink iPod trailed from her ears and she lay with her chin on her hand, completely absorbed by the script. Her head bobbed in time to the music and occasionally she made a little sketch in the margin.

      Nathaniel’s mind blanked. He forgot about the texts waiting for him on his phone. Instead he stood still, transfixed by the creamy curve of her bottom revealed by the thong. He remembered the lacy camisole she’d worn to bed. Nothing about the way she dressed hinted at a secret love of sexy underwear. Underneath all that boring brown she’d been wearing hot pink lacy silk?

      Engulfed by a scorching flame

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