‘You should have made dens onshore. It’s a lot safer.’
‘Safety was never a consideration for me.’
‘I guess that’s why Doña Anna drove you out.’
‘I don’t blame her.’ He laughed. He’d been a rebel through and through, but when he’d left the island he had tried to be a credit to his aunt. He’d thought that meant working as hard as he could to be the best, but even that wouldn’t satisfy Doña Anna. She’d wanted an heir, a dynasty—
‘What the—?’ Rosie had splashed water at him, and now she was running away.
Choice: he could stand on his dignity, or he could give her a soaking.
As he caught up with Rosie and swung her into his arms he asked himself why his aunt had brought him back to the island and put a girl at his side like this—had she been determined to torment him from the grave?
As Rosie shrieked he dumped her in the sea. She shrieked even louder.
She recovered fast. Scooping up armfuls of seawater, she chucked it at him. He fought back. She gave as good as she got. She was so different from the sophisticated women he knew that he started to laugh, and laughing wasn’t helpful when it came to winning water fights.
‘How about I hold you under the waves for half an hour?’ he threatened.
‘How about you catch me first?’ she countered.
And then she was off, like a dolphin, swimming effortlessly in her shorts and top. She could certainly swim. She might have grown up in the inner city, but she’d made up for it since coming to the island. Clambering out of the water, she stood dripping wet in front of him. Her outfit of choice was soaked through, the shorts so ragged, and the top so worn, he doubted even she knew what colour they had been originally. He thought he’d never seen anyone more beautiful.
This was really getting out of hand. ‘We should go,’ he said, bringing the high jinks to an abrupt end by turning his back on her.
He felt her disappointment follow him across the beach, and knew without doubt that he wanted her. Which was more than inconvenient. Lust was roaring through him, making nonsense of his agenda for the day.
Appointments could be postponed, he reasoned. He was under no pressure to leave the island right away. He could send for his people and have them come to him. It would be better for his team to see the island for themselves. He would set up his headquarters at the hacienda. It made perfect sense.
* * *
So much for keeping everything on a professional footing! Playing in the sea? Coming out of the water, looking like a contestant in a wet T-shirt contest with a see-through top clinging to her breasts? What was wrong with her? Was she crazy?
Xavier had kept his gaze confined to her face, but that smile playing around his sexy mouth said she believed he’d got the upper hand. She guessed he hadn’t dumped too many of his sophisticated girlfriends in the sea—not that she was a girlfriend, or even close. At best, she was an irritation. So maybe the island had infected them both with joie de vivre—something else she guessed he wasn’t used to.
When they got back to the house she had to admit he was right about the improvements. Paint was peeling on the front door, and the timber around the windows was rotten. She supposed she should thank him for opening her eyes before the entire house fell on her head.
‘After you,’ he said, holding the front door open for her.
‘Coffee?’ she asked on impulse. ‘Or are you in a hurry to get away?’
‘You still have the documents to read.’
Trust him to remember. But she would take a look. He’d started to open up and so had she. It was the least she could do.
‘But I’d love a coffee,’ he added with a smile that warmed her through.
Was it too much to hope this ease between them could continue, and that maybe they could find some common ground that would enable them to work together for the good of the island? When they brushed against each other as they walked into the kitchen, it was just the lightest touch, but it might as well have been a lightning bolt to her overly responsive body. It was a reminder of how it had felt when he closed his arms around her to steady her. She had liked that feeling. A lot.
She made the coffee, and picked up the documents. ‘I need to look at these alone,’ she explained. Life and fantasy were becoming dangerously entangled. She’d lived on hope for most of her life, and was determined to be realistic now she had responsibilities. ‘I’ll call you when I’m ready. Why don’t you take your coffee into the library?’ she suggested. ‘You’ll be more comfortable in there.’
Was he listening? Xavier was staring at the kitchen ceiling, no doubt chalking up how many cracks there were, before moving on to assess the damp in the corners.
‘Don’t take too long,’ he said, without sparing her a glance.
‘I’ll take as long as I need.’ She meant it. He might exert a magical power over her body, but when it came to her promise to Doña Anna, nothing, not even Don Xavier Del Rio, could swerve her from her course.
* * *
‘No,’ Rosie announced from the doorway to the library where he was sitting. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t accept this.’
He swung around in the library chair to stare at her. He’d been waiting in the library for over an hour. From the look on Rosie’s face, they wouldn’t be having a pleasant chat over coffee any time soon regarding money transfers from his bank to hers.
‘I can’t sign this. I’m sorry.’ Walking deeper into the room, she put the documents on the library table in front of him.
‘Then, what will you sign?’ He stood to face her. He could understand her reluctance to accept so much money. She wouldn’t know what to do with it. But he had advisors who could help her with that. Unless... ‘If you don’t think my offer’s enough...’
‘Your offer is an insult to someone who loved your aunt,’ she argued quietly. ‘If you had offered Doña Anna a fraction of that amount, she could have put everything to rights and you’d have no complaints about the island.’
‘Are you asking for more?’ He hadn’t expected this, but Rosie had him over a barrel.
‘I hope you’re joking?’ she flared. ‘What you’re offering is a ridiculous amount. You could buy a country for that. You’ve obviously got far too much money—’
He cut across her with an angry gesture. ‘Then, what do you want?’
He hadn’t achieved his level of success without taking every element of a deal into account. He’d seen other people fail when emotion was involved, which was yet another reason for him to remain exactly as he was. He would accept that there was no way of accurately calculating nostalgia in a monetary sense, but he’d done his very best.
‘I want a say in the future of this island, and you’re asking me to sell my right to that.’
‘Correct,’ he agreed. ‘And my offer’s fair.’
‘No.’ Rosie shook her head. ‘I won’t do it. I’m not thinking of me, but—’
‘Doña Anna and the islanders?’ he interrupted. ‘Yes. I know your passion where they’re concerned. But if you really want the best for them, you should leave the island to me.’
She huffed incredulously. ‘Do you think there’s even the slimmest chance of that?’
He shrugged. He’d up his offer if he had to. He did so, naming an amount that would make most people reach for a chair. Rosie didn’t even blink. But then, it was as if all the emotion she had so successfully suppressed in life broke free. Snatching up the documents, she ripped them to shreds in front of his eyes.
‘That’s what I think of your offer!’ she blazed.
Enraged, she was magnificent, but he remained focused on the deal. ‘Everything has its price,’ he said calmly.
‘You still don’t get it, do you?’ she exclaimed, frowning with frustration. ‘Even you don’t have enough money to tempt me to sell my share of the island. You can’t calculate everything in terms of money. When we were on the beach and you told me how much Doña Anna had done for you, and I told you I understood, beca
use she’d done the same for me, I thought we were beginning to understand each other. But we’re further apart than ever, because it’s all about money for you. You don’t care about the island. The only thing you care about is your bottom line. And winning,’ she raged.
‘That’s easy for you to say—you don’t have people depending on you for their jobs.’
‘There’s plenty of work on the island,’ she argued.
‘Growing vegetables?’
‘Why not?’ she blazed. ‘What’s more important—another golf club, or more food, good organic food?’
‘Another of your little fantasies,’ he suggested.
‘If you would only agree to help the islanders with your connections, instead of driving on with your plan, I believe this island could be successful in every way.’
‘Just as you believe you can live here with no visible means of support.’
‘If I have to, I will.’
‘But you don’t have to,’ he roared.
His tone shocked her. She had shocked herself. She was facing Xavier, braced for battle, when they were both usually so controlled. Somehow, combined, they were combustible. And now she couldn’t stop. ‘You can’t buy the island, and you can’t buy me!’
‘Actually. I can,’ he said with infuriating confidence.
She huffed incredulously ‘You seriously think you can put a price on me?’
‘I’m a businessman. That’s what I do,’ he countered.
‘You’re only a businessman thanks to the aunt you neglected—the aunt who gave you everything to help you become the man you are today. Do you think she’d be proud of you now?’
‘I would think so, yes,’ he said calmly, though niggling at the back of his mind was his aunt’s unreasonable demand for him to provide an heir. What on earth had caused her to put that in her will?
His apparent composure rattled Rosie. It was as if a dam had been breached and now a lifetime of suppressed passion came flooding out.
‘I don’t agree,’ she snapped. ‘Doña Anna expected more of you than this. I’m guessing that’s why she gave me a say in her will.’
He could have told her that he’d sent regular payments to his aunt for years, but that she had distributed the money to the islanders, rather than keeping anything back for herself, but he was done trying to reason with Rosie Clifton.
Passion roared between them as she whirled around to stalk away. Catching hold of her, he brought her back. Cupping her face, he made her look at him, and then he finished the kiss he wished he’d started the night before. Rosie made angry sounds deep in her throat. He countered these with a lifetime of experience in seduction that only succeeded in making her madder still, but her lips were soft and warm, and he could be very persuasive. He had never felt such a desire to kiss a woman before, and within a few moments she was fighting to keep him close as animal instinct took over.
He wanted her. That was all he knew. He wanted her now—here on the library table. No waiting. No thought. Just sensation. Need and passion combined inside him, driving the primal urge to mate. His hands claimed her buttocks. He pressed her hard against his straining erection. She responded by throwing her head back, and groaning with need as she thrust her hips hungrily against his.
Fortunately for both of them, an alarm bell went off in some part of his brain. One of them had to show restraint. Unfortunately, as Rosie showed no sign of letting him go, that had to be him.
Her face was flushed with passion as he held her at a safe distance. Her eyes were as black as jet. She wiped the back of her hand across kiss-swollen lips, as if she couldn’t believe what she’d done. ‘My answer’s still no,’ she said.
He laughed. He couldn’t help himself.
‘You think this is funny?’ she demanded in fury.
‘Not in the least,’ he admitted. He was impressed.
‘I’m leaving,’ she said.
‘For good?’
‘This isn’t a joke, Xavier.’
He cut her off at the door. Planting his fist on the smooth wood above her head, he kept her trapped in front of him. ‘My office will send the documents through again. May I suggest you sign them next time?’
‘You’re not listening to me,’ she gritted out, meeting his unblinking stare fearlessly. ‘I’ve no intention of signing your wretched documents.’
For just an instant he wanted to kiss her again. Then the wall he lived behind snapped back into place. It was time for Señorita Clifton to hear some hard truths. ‘Your job here is done,’ he said evenly. ‘You need an income to live on, and that has to come from somewhere.’
‘But not from you,’ she said. ‘Or do you think I’m incapable of earning a living?’
Pulling his fist from the wood, he stood clear of the door as she straightened her clothes and walked out.
Leaning back against the wall, he closed his eyes. Rosie Clifton was the most infuriating woman he’d ever met, but at least he now understood why his aunt had liked her—loved her, he amended. It had to be love that prompted such a generous bequest, unless his aunt’s sole aim had been to torment him.
He decided not. His aunt had been spiky, but never vengeful. And Rosie Clifton’s spirit had been forged under circumstances of extreme difficulty, which was why she had no trouble standing up to him. She might be naïve in many ways, but she was courageous and resilient. He guessed his aunt had seen something of herself as a young girl in Rosie.
* * *
‘Xavier...’
He turned at the sound of Rosie’s voice. She stood framed in the doorway. She had brushed her hair and washed her face. She looked a lot calmer.
‘I came to say I’m sorry.’ She lifted her chin. ‘I haven’t been very businesslike.’
‘Neither of us has been very businesslike.’
‘We were a little overheated,’ she admitted carefully.
Putting it mildly, he thought. Even now he wanted her. He wanted to see that furious fire light again in his arms.
‘I’ve been thinking how this place could look,’ she said, glancing around, ‘if I could persuade you to restore things, rather than to knock them down and rebuild. Maybe we could work together? I was angry before, after reading those documents, but I can’t let my pride stand in the way of improvements.’
‘And?’ he prompted.
‘And I’ve got a proposition for you.’
It had taken courage for her to come back and confront him. There was nothing to be gained by frightening her away—if anything could frighten Rosie Clifton. ‘I’m listening,’ he encouraged.
‘It’s not a long-term plan,’ she explained, frowning as if the words wouldn’t come easily. ‘We’d have to see how it progressed year by year.’
‘Not long term, then?’ he observed dryly.
‘I mean not permanent,’ she said, refusing to be diverted from her thoughts with humour. ‘With your money, and my understanding of the island and the people who live here, you could fund improvements, while I undertake the project management for you. I’d draw up proper accounts—’
As if that were all it entailed, he thought as she went on. Her intentions were good, but the island needed more than a few light touches, it required major renovation work, both to the house, and to the infrastructure. Architects and engineers—a whole raft of specialisms would have to be employed. ‘All my projects are money-making schemes.’
‘Then, you can afford one that isn’t.’
‘This sounds like a vanity project to me. You’re asking me to pour my money into a house and island so that you can live here in comfort.’
‘That’s not it at all,’ she argued, but her cheeks blazed red as it dawned on her that it must have sounded exactly like that to him.
‘This island has to pay its way,’ he said bluntly.
‘I’m trying—and with your help and influence, maybe investors would listen to me.’
‘As I have no previous experience or interest in farming, why would they?’
> ‘So you’d stand in my way—when you weren’t busy trying to find someone to give you an heir, that is.’
He was shocked that she would throw that in his face.
Xavier thought he held all the cards, but she wasn’t even close to admitting defeat. She would find a solution to this. She had to.
‘You should consider my proposal, Rosie. More money. You’d be secure for life. For the good of the island alone, you should accept it.’
But then she’d have all the money in the world to help the island, and no right to do so. ‘My answer has to be no.’
There had to be a way out of the impasse. Doña Anna must have anticipated this situation, but what had she wanted Rosie to do? It was as if there was an unwritten message in the will, and she just wasn’t getting it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
HIS TEAM ARRIVED that same afternoon. The dining room would serve as his boardroom for now. No one would stay overnight, so accommodation wasn’t a problem, and the launch would take everyone back to the mainland.
Rosie was baking in the kitchen. She was up to her elbows in flour when he looked in. She had white smudges on her nose and cheeks, and added more with the back of her hand when she saw him.
‘Ah, good, thank you,’ he said, surprised and pleased at the effort she was going to on his behalf.
She frowned. ‘Why?’
‘Why what?’ he asked, halfway out of the door.
‘Why are you thanking me?’
‘You anticipated my request,’ he suggested with a shrug.
‘Your request?’ she queried, putting even more smudges of flour on her face.
He moved to one side as she moved past him to put her baking tray into the oven. She looked perfect for her role in the day ahead: casual, low-key, and efficient. His aunt would have tolerated nothing less. He found her very sexy in form-fitting jeans that clung lovingly to her curves. He lingered a moment as her simple white T-shirt rode up when she bent down, drawing his gaze to her soft, silky skin and the swell of her buttocks. ‘Beautiful,’ he murmured, temporarily distracted.
‘The muffins?’ she declared, straightening up. ‘I’m using one of my all-time favourite recipes.’
A Diamond for Del Rio's Housekeeper Page 6