by Julia James
She felt a hand tug at her skirt and looked round—then down.
A small moppet of a child was standing beside her, holding up her wrist.
‘I’ve got a new bracelet,’ she informed Anna.
Her eyes were blue, her hair curly, her sundress pink. So was the bracelet, of pink polished coral.
‘So you have,’ agreed Anna with a smile. ‘It’s very pretty.’
‘My mummy bought it for me from a lady on the beach,’ the moppet said.
‘Lucy!’ A woman’s voice called from a nearby table. ‘Don’t bother the lady, darling.’
Anna looked across to where an Englishwoman in her thirties was lunching with her husband and a little boy.
‘She’s not bothering me at all,’ she reassured the woman. ‘I’m admiring her beautiful bracelet.’
The woman laughed. ‘She’s showing it off to everyone she can.’
Anna smiled. ‘Why not? It’s lovely.’ She looked down at the little girl again. Her smile deepened. ‘It’s a very pretty bracelet,’ she told the child again.
The little girl nodded, satisfied with this response, and moved off to the next table to repeat the exercise with the woman there. Her mother got up and gently guided her back to their own table.
‘Your ice-cream will be here any moment, Lucy—come along.’
She cast a conspiratorial smile at Anna as her daughter, duly diverted, scurried back to her place.
Anna smiled back, but noticed how the woman’s eyes had automatically strayed towards Leo. She was not surprised. Most of the women in the place had cast looks across at him, whatever their age or marital status.
No wonder he’s so full of himself, she thought mordantly. She wondered whether they’d still be lusting after him if they knew he’d threatened her with jail to get her into his bed.
Her face shuttered again. She reached for her water glass.
As she did, she saw that Leo was looking at her. He was frowning slightly, as if he’d been confronted with something unexpected.
Leo went on looking at her. That tiny incident just then, with the child, had taken him aback. Anna had smiled—a warm, kindly smile—clearly charmed by the little girl.
He’d never seen her look like that before. It was—out of character. A side of Anna Delane he hadn’t seen—that shouldn’t be there. Not in a woman like her.
The waiter arrived with their wine and placed the glasses carefully at their places. Anna, he noticed, took a mouthful immediately.
He took a sip from his and leant back, surveying her.
It was strange to see her away from the villa—with other people. Male eyes were drifting across to her repeatedly, but she wasn’t taking any notice. Doubtless for a woman as beautiful as her it was a daily occurrence. Yet, unlike all the other beautiful women he knew, she seemed to radiate absolutely no awareness of male observation. Other women showed they could see it coming their way, and sat there almost preening. Anna simply got on with having lunch.
Was that part of her challenge—that she ignored men who looked at her? Did she do it deliberately? Surely she must. He remembered what had struck him most at the gala launch at the Schloss—that she was completely indifferent to her own beauty.
As he watched her, so extraordinarily beautiful, the object of covert and not so covert male looks, he wondered caustically what they would say if they knew she was a criminal who’d help herself to their belongings without the blink of an eye.
His jaw set. She looked so serenely indifferent, sitting there, ignoring him. As if butter wouldn’t melt…
It made him feel like needling her, forgetting his deal to have a civil day together.
‘So, not tempted by the coral bracelet, then? Tell me, would you steal from a child if it had something you wanted?’
Anna looked at him. ‘That’s a stupid and offensive question,’ she replied coldly.
‘Why? I want to know if there are limits to your venality, that is all. You stole from me, why not from a child?’ Leo jibed.
She eyed him stonily.
‘A crime is not a crime, per se,’ she said. ‘A crime depends upon motive, and on effect on the victim. Is a starving man entitled to steal food from one who has ten times more than he needs? Supposing he stole it for his starving child, to save its life?’
‘You’re quite a moralist,’ Leo observed, eyes narrowing slightly as he lifted his wine glass to his mouth. ‘For a thief.’ He took a mouthful of wine. ‘I asked you once before why you stole from me, Anna—’
‘And I told you it was none of your business. That’s still the case.’
Leo started to feel the anger running in him again. But, as their food arrived, his attention was diverted.
‘Is that what you ordered?’ he asked, eyeing the succulent dish sceptically.
‘Yes,’ Anna said. ‘It’s by way of celebration.’
‘Celebration?’
She gave her acid-sweet smile. ‘My night off,’ she told him.
For a second his face darkened, then, with visible effort, he made his expression relax. ‘It’s good to see you eat sensibly for once.’
Anna glanced up at him, midway into spearing a fat, crispy prawn.
‘I’ve told you—I have no choice. Models all have to be underweight for their height. It’s part of the stupid fake mystique of high fashion.’
Leo began to eat. ‘You sound very hostile to your career.’
Anna gave a shrug. ‘I just don’t have any illusions about it. I never did,’ she added reflectively.
‘I thought it was a dream come true for most women—to be a model?’
She ate some more, luxuriating in the rich flavours.
‘The fashion industry treats models like garbage—remember the charming Signor Embrutti, wanting Jenny to strip off, not giving a toss that she didn’t want to? Think that’s unusual? Models have to be incredibly tough to survive.’
‘That should suit you ideally,’ riposted Leo sardonically. ‘I also remember you threatening with your contract terms and conditions at Embrutti.’
Her face darkened. ‘That slimeball! I’ve worked with him before, so I insisted that all four models should have a no strip clause as soon as I knew Justin the Obsequious had hired him for the shoot—’
‘What did you call him?’ Leo set down his knife and fork.
‘Should I have called him Justin the Toad?’ returned Anna limpidly. ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, surely you know the man is a total toerag?’
‘He is keen to do his job well,’ Leo replied quellingly.
‘Keen to lick your boots, more like. Yes, Mr Makarios. Of course, Mr Makarios. Anything you say with spots on, Mr Makarios.’ She looked at him. ‘You don’t genuinely want to surround yourself with toadies, do you?’
There was a puzzled, incredulous expression on her face.
Leo’s mouth tightened and he started to eat again.
‘My staff know that I expect—and get—the highest-calibre performances from them. In exchange they are very well paid indeed. As,’ he pointed out acidly, ‘you and the other models were for the work you did.’
‘And we worked our backsides off, believe me! Do you have any complaints about the quality of our work? You saw us in action, after all.’
‘No, you were all perfectly professional,’ he allowed. ‘Even with you threatening contracts at the photographer. You do that often, do you?’
‘When I have to. I learnt the hard way. When I was starting out some ad agency creep insisted on bare boob shots. My agency told me to do it. I walked out. It cost me that job, and a lot of work afterwards. From then on I ensured a no strip clause was in every contract I signed.’
Leo was frowning at her.
‘Why is it such a big deal? Nudity is nothing these days.’
Anna put down her fork and stared at him.
‘OK, so strip off. Go on. Flash yourself around at these good folk here. Put some flesh shots of yourself in a glossy mag. Make sure your friends and r
elatives see it. Make sure total strangers on the London Underground see it.’
‘Do not be absurd!’ Leo retorted stiffly. ‘You are a fashion model. You—’
Her eyes flashed green fire.
‘Yes—I am a fashion model,’ she spelt out. ‘I model clothes. I do not model not wearing any clothes. Can you possibly understand the subtle difference?’
Leo glared at her. Her aggression was ludicrous—it was absurd—it was insolent—it was—
It was justified.
He took a sharp, deep breath. He flung his hands up as if in surrender.
‘I take your point. But,’ he went on, genuine puzzlement showing in his eyes, ‘if you dislike modelling so much, why did you become one?’
Leo leant back again, lifting his wine glass to his mouth. Anna’s eyes followed the movement, watching the way his long, strong fingers curved around the bowl of the wine glass, the way his sensual, mobile mouth indented as he drank. How the strong column of his throat worked as he swallowed.
Weakness ebbed through her, dissolving and debilitating. Dear God, but he was just so beautiful to look at…
She came back with a start.
‘Well, however much I moan about it, it still beats packing biscuits all day long in the local factory,’ she returned, taking a mouthful of wine herself, to restore her composure. ‘I never did well at school, so higher education was out.’
‘You don’t strike me as unintelligent,’ observed Leo. ‘Why did you not do well at school?’
She looked at him, surprised. Leo Makarios didn’t look like the kind of man to assess any woman for her intelligence. Let alone her. Perhaps, she thought acidly, he assumed that a thief had to have a basic degree of intelligence.
‘I’ll answer that for you,’ he said dryly. ‘I can’t see you taking kindly to a teacher’s authority.’
Anna’s face was expressive. ‘Some were OK,’ she allowed. ‘But most of them…’ She didn’t finish the sentence. Then she shrugged. ‘But I was the one who was the fool—I should have been smart enough to make school work for me. Instead…’ She shrugged again. ‘Anyway, when I was eighteen I got spotted by a talent scout for an agency, trawling the shopping malls of north London. That got me started.’ She took another mouthful of wine to wash down the spicy prawns. ‘My gran—she’d brought me up—hated it. She thought I’d be dragged into a den of iniquity. She was right, of course. But luckily I wised up pretty fast. And toughened up. I don’t put up with garbage any more.’
The wine was coiling slowly through her veins in the warmth of the day and the rare pleasure of eating filling food. The combination made her feel strangely relaxed. Maybe that was why she was able to talk like this to Leo Makarios. She took another forkful of food, her eyes flickering to his face. It was odd, definitely, to be talking to him.
Leo contemplated her.
‘Are you as aggressive with your lovers?’ he enquired.
Anna’s fork stopped halfway to her mouth, and lowered again.
‘I don’t have lovers,’ she said tightly.
Leo stared at her.
Anna Delane didn’t have lovers?
He wanted to laugh out loud. Of course a woman as beautiful as she was had lovers. Men must have been swarming around her since she hit puberty!
Did that mean she’d helped herself, though? She certainly threw you out of her bedroom, right enough!
He jabbed angrily at the piece of lamb fillet he’d just cut. It always came back to that, didn’t it? Anna Delane throwing him out of her bedroom. Spitting with outraged virtue even while her breasts were still taut and aroused from his caressing…
A hypocrite. That was all she was. Saying one thing with her mouth while her body spoke a quite, quite different language…
‘What do you mean, you don’t have lovers?’
His own question interrupted his thoughts, which were leading him in a direction he did not want to go on a day he’d told her she could have the night to herself.
Anna resumed eating.
‘I mean I don’t have lovers,’ she repeated. ‘What’s the big deal?’
‘Why not?’ There was genuine incomprehension in his voice, as well as underlying disbelief at her extraordinary assertion. ‘You are far too beautiful not to take lovers.’
The flash of green fire came again. ‘You mean I have some sort of duty to offer myself on a plate to all comers just because they fancy me?’ Her voice was shrivelling with contempt.
‘Of course not. I merely mean that with your looks you could have the pick of my sex.’
Anna’s mouth tightened. ‘With you as a prime example? No, thanks.’ The green flash came again. ‘Look, I thought the deal was we were going to try and be civil to each other. So stop going on at me, all right? Can’t you talk about the weather or something?’
He sat back. ‘Very well,’ he said heavily. There was an expression in his eyes she could not read. ‘So, what would you like to do after lunch?’
She shrugged. ‘You know the island, not me.’
‘Would you like to do more shopping?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Good grief, what is it with you? I don’t need or want to buy anything else, thank you. Actually—’ a thought struck her ‘—what I do want is a swim, to cool off. Is there a beach nearby?’ Another thought struck her. ‘But maybe with your ankle you can’t go in the water?’
‘That is not a problem,’ replied Leo airily, astonished that she’d actually condescended to voice a preference to him. ‘And I know just the beach to take you to.’ His eyes gleamed. ‘Tell me, can you surf?’
Anna stared. ‘Surf? In the Caribbean? It’s flat as a millpond!’
Leo laughed. ‘Not on the Atlantic coast, it isn’t.’
Nor was it. To Anna’s astonishment the wide, sandy beach that Leo drove to after they’d finished lunch curled with breakers rolling in from the east. He parked the car by a small café-bar just on the sand, and Anna slipped into the restrooms to change into one of the two new swimsuits she’d bought that morning. Leo, it seemed, had his trunks on underneath his trousers anyway. As she emerged, she saw him standing on the sand, stripped to the waist, a pair of colourful boogie boards under his arm, newly purchased from a beach vendor.
‘Surf’s up!’ he told Anna, grinning, and handed her a board. Then, turning on his heel, he ran with a limping gait into the water and plunged over a breaking wave. With a sudden, inexplicable burst of exuberance, Anna ran after him and did likewise.
Foaming water burst over her head—cold for a second, and then warm. She gave a shout, and found herself grinning back at Leo, hair slicked back, torso glittering with diamonds.
‘Watch out!’ he called, as another wave curled towards them. ‘Turn around, board to your midriff—wait, wait… Now!’ Leo launched forward, catching the wave and creaming in towards the shore, weaving his route between the other surfers and swimmers.
Anna was less lucky, and missed the wave. But she caught the next one, and the exhilaration of being powered effortlessly into shore was intoxicating. The moment she grounded she was up on her feet, ploughing back out to sea to repeat the process, over and over again. Beside her, Leo set the pace relentlessly, exchanging grins with her as the water’s power swept them inshore time after time.
Finally, after what seemed like a million waves, Anna beached herself in the shallows, lying on her board, dragging in the ebbing surf. Leo came and flopped beside her.
‘I’m done in!’ she gasped.
Leo jack-knifed to his feet lithely and held a hand down to her.
‘Time for a cool drink,’ he said.
Anna took his hand without thinking, letting his strong fingers curl around hers, and got to her feet. He went on holding her hand as they waded ashore, boogie boards under their arms. The sun was hot on their wet skin, the sea dazzling. Gaining the shade of the wooden café-bar was blissful, and Anna flopped down at a table.
‘Enjoy it?’ asked Leo, flopping likewise.
Anna grinned. ‘It was fantastic!’
For a moment their eyes held, with nothing in them except mutual good humour. Then one of the waiting staff undulated over to them, with the characteristically graceful islander gait, and asked what they would like.
‘Long, cool, and a lot of fruit juice, please.’ Anna smiled at her.
‘Twice.’ Leo nodded. The woman smiled, and undulated back to the bar, sandals flapping lazily on the ground.
Anna’s eyes went after her.
‘They walk so gracefully, the islanders. Even when they are no longer young or slim. It’s very striking. I can’t work out how they do it.’
Leo leant back.
‘It’s because they never hurry,’ he answered. ‘It’s too hot to hurry. So everyone relaxes.’
Anna gave a crooked smile. ‘Wise people,’ she commented. ‘They know what’s important in life.’
“‘Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers”,’ Leo heard himself murmur, repeating the line of poetry that had come to him when he had been out on the villa’s terrace that first night.
Anna’s quizzical glance rested on him.
‘Somehow that sentiment doesn’t go with the hotshot business tycoon,’ she said dryly.
Leo’s eyelashes swept down. ‘Is that how you see me? A hotshot business tycoon?’
‘It’s how you see yourself,’ she riposted.
She expected to see his expression bristle, but instead there was a strange look in his eye.
‘It’s what was expected of me,’ he said slowly. His dark eyes rested on her. ‘You escaped your background, Anna. I didn’t.’
She frowned, confused. ‘Why would you want to—given your background?’
‘I grew up with a lot of physical riches—but not much else.’
A snort escaped her. ‘Poor little rich boy?’
‘How close were you to your grandmother?’ he asked, ignoring her sceptical comment.
She looked away a moment. ‘Very. She was all I had. My mother died when I was five, and as for my father—well, even the child maintenance people couldn’t find him. So it was just Gran and me. Which is a lot more than some kids get in life, so I’m not ungrateful, believe me. But sometimes it was…’ She paused.