The Abby Green Modern Collection. ABBY GREEN

the prompt; if she repeated the words enough to herself like a mantra, she might just believe it.

      

      At twelve-thirty Maggie was feeling back to normal. A table had just been delivered with a mouth-watering array of food—fresh fish, salad and crusty bread and a bottle of champagne on ice. She heard the door in the suite open and close and stood slightly awkwardly on the terrace when Caleb emerged. Her heart tripped predictably, the way it did every time she saw him, whether it had been seconds or hours in the interim.

      ‘How are you this morning?’ he asked coolly.

      ‘Fine. Much better. About last night, I’m so sorry, that’s never happened before.’

      He lifted a hand. ‘It’s fine.’

      ‘Okay…’ Maggie trailed off. He clearly didn’t want to discuss it. Maybe he was angry that they hadn’t slept together. Maybe he thought it was an elaborate attempt on her part to avoid it? She suddenly hated the thought he might suspect that of her. She moved closer and put an impulsive hand on his arm. ‘You don’t think that I…Well, that I did it on purpose to…’ She stopped, her face crimson with awkwardness and a cold horror struck her…Had her body somehow shut down because of that too?

      ‘No, of course not.’ And he genuinely didn’t. That thought had never even entered his head and it surprised him now.

      The residue of her disturbing thoughts still lingered and she answered absently, ‘Good.’

      ‘Let’s eat.’

      ‘All right.’

      They sat down at the table that had been erected, complete with a pristine tablecloth and gleaming cutlery. With only the faint sounds of a few cars down in the square, someone calling to someone else, it was unbelievably intimate and private on their little terrace. The scent of the flowers hung heavy in the air.

      Caleb busied himself opening the champagne and poured Maggie a glass before tending to himself. She murmured thanks and tried to appear cool, as though this happened every day for her.

      ‘So what’s on the cards for later? Another dinner?’

      Caleb inclined his head. ‘Yes, I’m afraid so. But you don’t have to come if you think you’re not up to it.’

      His consideration touched her, despite the wall of ice she was trying to pack around her heart as she looked at him. She shook her head. ‘No, I’ll be fine. I’m not normally the fainting type. It’s really never happened before.’ She even felt guilty now because she knew what had brought it on. Not that she could tell him. She had to make an effort to appear unconcerned. As if he didn’t hold her world in his hands.

      She flashed him a rare smile. ‘I can’t wait to fend off more women, listen to people talk about the royal family as though they’re intimate friends and try to decipher your financial jargon…’

      A sharp burst of empathy made him suck in a breath. He caught himself and grimaced, unable to help a rueful smile that transformed his face and took Maggie’s breath away; he seemed to have taken her unspoken cue to be light too. It made him look years younger.

      ‘I’m sorry; I know how boring they can be. As for fending off the women, you saw the worst of the bunch last night. They don’t see me, they see dollar signs, no ring and a potential husband for their daughters.’

      She was thrown by his apology. He seemed for once not to be lumping her into that category and he was wrong—they saw far more than that. He was all the more attractive because of his youth, virility and his wallet. She couldn’t help asking, ‘Don’t you want to get married some day?’

      She could feel herself holding her breath as she saw the expressions flit over his face and the shutters came back down. A muscle twitched at his jaw. His voice was unbearably harsh. ‘With what I’ve seen? Hardly. If I do marry, it’ll be purely a business arrangement…and for children.’

      She couldn’t help the shiver that seemed to invade her very bones at his words. In a way, from the brief experience she’d had of the circles he moved in, she couldn’t blame him. She remembered the looks of pure vitriol that had come her way from those women and could only imagine the conversations in the bathroom. There was a melancholic ring to his words too that made Maggie want to question him, find out what had put it there, find out more about his life, parents…but she couldn’t.

      In an effort to avoid talking about anything too personal, she started chattering about anything and everything. Caleb sat back and studied her. She was casual in a sleeveless crossover top and linen trousers. And something niggled him about that, but before he could figure out what it was, he was distracted. Her face was animated, telling a story, but he was captivated by her movements, the way her eyes widened in emphasising a point. They’d spent two nights sharing the same bed…and still not slept together. That was a first for him. And he knew he couldn’t bear to wait much longer. He’d woken several times during the previous night and even had to take a cold shower at one stage. Again.

      ‘…and that was it, really.’ Maggie stopped awkwardly; she knew he hadn’t really been listening to her. Was she that boring?

      Caleb sat forward. ‘Sorry, I was miles away.’

      ‘That’s okay.’ She smiled tightly.

      Suddenly he felt like kicking himself. He’d hurt her, by not listening to her. And he was perplexed by her reaction. Shouldn’t she be cajoling him now? Making him pay for his lack of attention, sliding on to his lap, trying to entice him to go to bed for the afternoon?

      He shook his head. Her act of innocence was so ingrained that it was second nature. He shook his head at himself. She was reeling him in again.

      ‘What is it?’ Maggie had a look of almost concern on her face.

      ‘Nothing,’ he said harshly. He stood and pushed back his chair; it sounded shrill on the stone ground. Maggie flinched, a tiny movement. ‘You should take it easy this afternoon.’

      She could be cool too. ‘I’m fine, Caleb, really. It won’t happen again. I’m going to do some sightseeing this afternoon.’ She shrugged lightly. ‘I might never be back here again…’

      His eyes narrowed. She really hadn’t said that with any guile. Had she? His mouth quirked dryly. ‘Oh, I’m sure you could persuade someone to bring you here again…’

      She fought off the urge to defend herself from the obvious implication that he meant another lover…if she could even call him that. Right now, when he was being cynical and hateful, it was very easy to forget nonsensical, fantastical notions of being in love. She clung on to it like a shield around her heart.

      ‘I’m sure you’re right.’ And she smiled up at him sunnily.

      ‘I’ll see you this evening. We go out at half seven.’

      She nodded her head and watched as he walked away, sagging back into the chair once he’d gone, only aware then how much tension she’d been holding in.

      

      Maggie was determined that Caleb would not affect her equilibrium, not with thoughts of the evening ahead or his tart barbs. So much for their short-lived truce.

      She was doing a bus top sightseeing tour. But…try as she might, she couldn’t block out the fantasy that hovered annoyingly like a wispy mist on the periphery of her mind. That if they’d met under different circumstances, he could perhaps feel something for her—beyond the mild contempt, distrust, all wrapped up in overwhelming desire, which was the reality.

      She flipped her sunglasses back down on to her nose and grimaced. That was the problem; even if she could indulge herself for one second that Caleb didn’t have an axe to grind with her…then that would only put her in the same category as his usual mistresses. Which meant, she knew well, a bit of fun for a while, being indulged, cosseted, then…he’d walk away. That was what he’d meant last night, when he’d alluded to the fact that they always knew