Tortured Rake

by Sarah Morgan

  CHAPTER FOUR

  WHY the hell had he brought her with him?

  At the time it had seemed the only way to make sure she didn’t talk to the press, but he was only now realising what her presence meant. He had company at a time when he wanted it least.

  Not just company. He had Katie—a girl who believed that all would be right with the world providing you had someone with whom to share your problems. A girl who believed talking solved everything.

  It was probably just punishment for dragging her into this mess.

  She was furious with him.

  He glanced at her tense profile, careful to reveal nothing of his own emotions.

  ‘You don’t have to look as though your world has come to an end,’ he ground out. ‘It was a small-time costume drama with second-rate actors. It would have been provincial and boring.’

  ‘It was another step up the ladder.’

  ‘How many steps does this ladder of yours have? You might want to think about taking two at a time or you’re never going to reach the top.’

  ‘Do you have to be sarcastic about everything?’

  ‘That play would not have progressed your career.’

  ‘I had some really original ideas for the costumes. My name would have been on the credits.’

  ‘Which three people would have seen. Anyway, you’d never have got the job.’

  ‘Thanks. So not only did you stop me going, but now you’re telling me I’m rubbish at my job.’ She turned her head deliberately and looked out of the window. ‘Just because I don’t work in Hollywood doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings. I think you’re incredibly mean.’

  ‘Mean?’ Fighting an inexplicable urge to laugh, Nathaniel stared at the back of her head. ‘I haven’t heard that word since I started at boarding school.’

  ‘I bet you were a complete nightmare at boarding school.’

  ‘I had my moments. And for your information, I wasn’t being “mean” or sarcastic, I was being honest. They wouldn’t have given you the job.’

  Her shoulders grew a little stiffer. ‘I heard you the first time. You don’t need to repeat yourself.’

  ‘I saw the costume plot. Your drawings are in a class of their own.’

  ‘Just because I’m not—’ Her head turned. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘Your drawings are in a class of their own. You have great talent. And you would have terrified them. Your work is far too imaginative and original. They would have gone with something “safe” and predictable that has been done a thousand times before. Provincial, boring producers don’t want to rock the boat.’ That assessment was met with a long tense silence.

  ‘You think I have talent? You’re not just saying that because I’m angry with you?’

  ‘I’m saying it because it’s the truth.’

  ‘Oh.’ A confused frown pulled at her brows. ‘Well, that’s nice. Unfortunately you admiring my work won’t pay my bills or help me up the ladder. Not that I expect you to understand. You live in a world of private jets, bodyguards and limousines. I live in a world of rising debt and unemployment.’

  She knew nothing about his world.

  ‘Relax, wardrobe. I’ll make some calls and get you work in Hollywood. If it doesn’t work out with Alicia, then I’ll call Rupert Schneider or Howard Kennington.’

  Her mouth opened and closed. ‘You know all those people?’

  ‘Yes. And they’re always on the lookout for new talent. They’d love you.’

  ‘Y-you’d introduce me? Seriously?’ She looked stunned. ‘Well, thank you. It’s nice to know you do, in fact, have a conscience.’

  ‘Don’t endow me with qualities I don’t possess. I’m introducing you because you have talent, and because I can’t stand a woman who sulks, especially if I’m stuck on an island with her.’

  ‘You should have thought of that before you forced me to come along with you. There is such a thing as karma, you know. You’ll be punished in some way for doing this to me.’

  ‘I’m already being punished. I’m about to be trapped on an island with a woman who can’t stop talking. Man’s idea of hell, believe me.’ Smiling, Nathaniel leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes. Immediately, reality closed in and his thoughts turned dark. He saw Jacob sitting in the front row. Saw those dark eyes looking at him. Knowing. They were bound together by the past. Nothing was ever going to change that.

  His smile faded and his eyes flew open.

  Oh, yes, he was being punished.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Katie’s big green eyes were full of concern. ‘Only you’re gripping your seat really hard.’

  Nathaniel released his grip and the blood flowed back into his fingers. ‘I’m a nervous flyer.’

  ‘You flew a plane in your last film. You have a pilot’s licence.’

  ‘Precisely.’ He hauled in all of his professional skills to make sure he didn’t falter. ‘I hate being flown by someone else. I’d rather be the one at the controls but I had a lousy night’s sleep on your lumpy sofa and I didn’t want to crash us into a mountain.’

  Her steady gaze suggested that she wasn’t convinced and he reminded himself that Katie Field noticed things. He couldn’t afford to lower his guard. Which suited him just fine. Apart from last night, onstage, Nathaniel couldn’t remember the last time he’d lowered his guard.

  ‘So this island—’ The hope of new contacts seemed to have cheered her slightly. ‘Where is it? And how do you know we won’t be followed around when we get there?’

  ‘It’s a tropical island off the coast of South America. And the reason I know we won’t be followed around is because we’ll be the only two people on the island.’

  ‘Just us?’ Her voice was a horrified squeak. ‘You expect me to spend two weeks without a single person to talk to?’

  ‘I believe there are two species of parrot found on the island. If you play your cards right, one of them might talk to you.’

  ‘You may think you’re funny, but I’m the sort of person who likes company. If you’re the only person on the island—’ her eyes narrowed ‘—then I’ll just have to talk to you.’

  ‘Talk away. Just don’t expect me to answer.’ Nathaniel watched her through the dark shield of his lashes. ‘On the other hand, if it’s company you want, I’m sure we can find some way of passing the time that doesn’t include conversation.’

  He was arrogant, overbearing—Katie sighed. And insanely sexy.

  How could he be sexy when he was asleep? Strands of dark hair flopped over his forehead giving him a dangerous, rakish look. The bold black brows and darkened jaw were wholly masculine and as for that mouth—

  She looked away quickly, her heart thudding against her chest.

  No, no, no.

  She wasn’t going to do that to herself. Not again. No more fantasies about unobtainable guys. She knew who she was now and was comfortable with herself. Five minutes of idle flirtation with a hot movie star didn’t change anything.

  Blind with tiredness but totally unable to relax enough to sleep, Katie stared out of the window at the tropical islands that studded the sparkling ocean below.

  Some of the tiredness sloughed away as she gazed beneath her. The sea was dotted with emerald-green islands, each framed by white sands and coral reefs.

  Clear turquoise water lapped at secluded coves. Paradise, she thought, with a twist.

  She sneaked a glance at Nathaniel, sleeping beside her.

  He was the twist.

  What secrets was he hiding? Who were Annabelle and Carrie? Why did he feel the need to bury himself on a deserted island?

  The questions spiralled in her head until sheer exhaustion made her fall asleep. When she woke it was to find Nathaniel staring out of the window.

  For a few seconds she saw torment and anguish in his eyes and then he realised she was awake and quickly blanked it.

  What was going on in his life? What was he hiding? ‘Have we arrived?’

  ‘We’re in Rio d
e Janeiro. It’s a short helicopter hop to Wolfe Island.’

  ‘This island—’ she retrieved her bag from under her seat ‘—you said your brother owns it?’

  ‘He’s a hotelier. Very convenient at times like this.’

  ‘Wolfe.’ Katie stared at him for a moment, wondering how she could have failed to make the connection. ‘Sebastian Wolfe is your brother?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘I’ve heard of him, of course. I just hadn’t realised—you never talk about your family.’

  ‘And I don’t intend to start.’

  ‘You’re not close to your family?’

  A muscle flickered at the corner of his mouth. ‘You certainly like to live dangerously.’

  ‘If we’re going to be trapped together for the next two weeks we have to know a few things about each other.’

  Those sexy, slanting eyes were faintly mocking. ‘You need to know I’m dangerous when I’m cross-examined.’

  ‘And I’m dangerous when I’m deprived of human conversation. I’m not cross-examining you. I’m just asking about your family. I don’t see what’s wrong with that. I’m just being polite.’

  ‘Let’s set some ground rules, shall we?’ Thick dark lashes swept down to conceal his expression. ‘You don’t ask me anything personal and I won’t ask you anything personal. In fact, why don’t we just agree to a no-talking rule for the next two weeks? It’s fine with me if we keep our relationship purely physical. We can communicate via body language.’

  Katie chose to ignore that. ‘You can ask me anything you like. I don’t have secrets. And I can’t not talk for two weeks. Talking is how I relieve tension.’

  He leaned towards her, his blue eyes two narrow, dangerous slits of simmering sensuality. ‘Want to know how I relieve tension, wardrobe?’

  ‘No, I do not.’ Trapped by his gaze, she found it hard to breathe. He was a man who clearly understood the effect he had on women.

  As if to confirm that, his smile was slow and confident. ‘Sure?’

  ‘Completely sure.’

  ‘But you’re curious.’ His voice was soft and seductive. ‘Admit it—you’ve been wondering how it is going to feel when we eventually stop all this self-control nonsense and kiss each other.’

  ‘I haven’t. It hasn’t crossed my mind.’

  ‘You’re a terrible liar.’

  ‘And you’re impossibly arrogant. And arrogance,’ she said breathlessly, ‘is never an attractive trait, even for the Sexiest Man Alive.’ Her heart was pounding and the blood hummed in her ears.

  ‘You think I’m the sexiest man alive?’

  ‘I was quoting opinion polls.’ Thoroughly flustered, Katie looked out of the window again. ‘We’re landing.’ Thank goodness. How come he always knew what to say and she never did? How come he never seemed to feel awkward?

  He unbuckled his seat belt and leaned across to do hers. ‘Let’s move. The helicopter is waiting.’

  The first thing that hit her when she stepped out onto the island was the intense heat and the colours. Deep green palm trees shaded milky white sand, and a parrot added a flash of exotic red as it took refuge in the trees clustered in the centre of the island. The hot sun was a ball of orange and the sea was a magic carpet of glittering jewelled blue.

  ‘Beats London in February.’ Nathaniel took her arm and drew her away from the helicopter. ‘Here we are. Home sweet home. Otherwise known as Paradise Villa. All the bedrooms open onto the terrace and overlook the sea. Take your pick.’

  Feeling hot and sticky in her jeans, Katie walked into the house and stopped dead, stunned by what she saw. ‘Oh, it’s—’

  ‘Yes. My brother has flawless taste. It’s the jewel in his company crown. VIP all the way.’

  Katie gazed around her. The outdoor living area was cleverly designed to offer maximum shade while making the most of the breathtaking views. Exotic plants swayed lazily in the breeze and deep cream sofas invited relaxation and indulgence. The only sound was the swish of the sea as it rushed onto the sand. It was another world. ‘Who can afford to stay here?’

  ‘We can.’ Nathaniel urged her forward. ‘Most of the living space is outdoors, obviously, because of the view. Terrace, infinity pool, hammocks—you’ll find everything you need to chill out and do nothing. If you get bored doing nothing, there are water sports.’

  Katie felt faint. ‘So when people come here, they book the whole island?’

  ‘Indeed they do. They come here for peace and quiet and to experience the unique challenges of having hot sweaty sex in a hammock.’ His smile was slow and sexy. ‘You’ve never tried sex in a ham mock?’

  ‘You’re not funny.’ Feeling as though she’d been plunged into a furnace, Katie pulled off her jumper. ‘Is there somewhere I can buy some clothes? Next time you kidnap someone, warn them to pack for hot weather. I’m boiling to death wearing jeans in this heat.’ Or maybe it wasn’t the heat. Maybe it was him …

  That disturbing blue gaze was slumberous. ‘The staff were instructed to put some clothes in your room.’

  Great. Her worst nightmare. Someone else choosing her clothes.

  Speculating on the sort of woman the staff would have expected to see with Nathaniel Wolfe and sensing major embarrassment, Katie’s heart sank. She’d rather wear jeans and risk heatstroke. ‘I can tell you now that nothing will fit.’

  ‘If nothing fits, then you can walk around naked.’

  ‘You’re still not funny.’ Lifting her chin, Katie walked across the terrace and back into the villa. ‘I presume the bedrooms are this way?’

  ‘That’s the master suite. Unless you want to share it with me, you need to turn left.’

  Katie turned left so sharply she almost fell over.

  The door to another bedroom suite was open and she escaped inside, her eyebrows lifting as she saw the rose petals sprinkled on the white silk bedcover and the candles clustered around bowls of scented flowers.

  It was a room for romance. A room for loving.

  ‘Miss Katie?’ A smiling woman ambled slowly into the room carrying soft fluffy towels. ‘I’m Rosa, and if there’s anything you need during your stay, you just have to ask.’

  Katie frowned, confused. ‘I thought—He said we were on our own.’

  Rosa laughed, her smooth brown face alight with amusement. ‘Bless you. This place has a staff of twenty. But we all live on the mainland. We arrive in time to make breakfast and leave after supper. So you have the best of both worlds. I arranged for some clothes for you, but if they’re not right just let me know.’

  They were going to be too tight, all the wrong colours and it was going to be hideously embarrassing. But Katie was too polite to complain. ‘I’m sure they’ll be perfect. Thanks very much.’

  Perfect or not, it was a relief to peel off her jeans. After a deliciously cool shower in a luxurious bathroom with one side open to the beach, she wrapped herself in a soft fluffy white towel and wandered into the walk-in closet. Oh, to live like this. An array of colourful bikinis had been spread out for her and she gave them a single horrified glance and reached for a primrose sundress. Yellow was too bold a colour for her, but it was better than squeezing into a bikini in front of Nathaniel Wolfe.

  She slipped on the dress, relieved to find it fitted perfectly. It was extremely pretty—in fact, the only thing wrong with it was the colour. It was so bright. And she never wore bright clothes. She preferred to blend into the background.

  With a short laugh, Katie looked in the mirror and shook her head.

  No chance of blending in dressed in yellow. Slipping her feet into a pair of pretty flip-flops, she walked back onto the terrace feeling as conspicuous as a sunflower in a vegetable patch.

  Nathaniel had stripped off his shirt and was sprawled unselfconsciously on the white sun lounger in nothing but a pair of low-slung board shorts that showed off his rippling abs. ‘It’s going to be hard to swim in a dress, wardrobe.’

  Feeling about as appetising as a pie
ce of uncooked pasta, Katie sat down neatly on the sun lounger furthest away from him. ‘I’m not swimming.’ Strip almost naked and parade in front of a man who was fed a daily diet of size-zero women? Please.

  He glanced up from his phone. ‘You can’t swim?’

  ‘I can swim if I want to. I don’t want to.’

  ‘Why not? Swimming is the only way to stay cool.’

  Katie slid off her sandals. ‘Actually, I’m not hot.’ A sardonic smile touched the corners of his mouth. ‘You look hot to me.’ Leaving that ambiguous com ment floating in the air, he leaned across and passed her a glass of chilled lemonade. ‘What was wrong with the selection of bikinis Rosa bought you?’

  ‘Nothing was wrong with them.’

  ‘Then why aren’t you wearing one of them?’ Abandoning subtlety in favour of honesty, Katie glared at him. ‘Because there is no way I’m wearing a bikini in front of you!’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Is that a serious question?’ Judging from his blank expression, she decided it was. ‘Nathaniel, there are basically two types of women—the padded version and the unpadded version. You hang out with the unpadded version. I’m the padded version. You’ve probably never met one of me before.’

  ‘The padded version?’

  ‘I’m designed with extra cushioning,’ she muttered, ‘built for comfort, not speed. And now can we please talk about something else?’

  ‘That’s why you won’t wear the bikini?’ A slow smile spread across his face. ‘Because you’re worried about your body?’

  ‘Call me vain, but I don’t want to spend the whole day sucking in my stomach.’

  ‘So don’t.’ Smiling, he leaned back against the lounger and closed his eyes. ‘Women have such a distorted view of what a guy finds sexy. If the rest of you is anything to go by, I’m sure you have a very sexy stomach. Put the bikini on, and I’ll give you my verdict.’

  Her gaze drifted to his wide shoulders and hard chest. He had the body of a man who lived a physical life. ‘I’d rather boil alive than let you see my stomach.’