The Holiday Escapes Collection. Sandra Marton

silence stretched and stretched until it was finally broken by the slow release of his sigh. ‘Yes,’ he said as her eyes slowly came back to his. ‘Yes, perhaps it is.’

      She ran her tongue over the parchment of her lips. ‘Damon…’

      He reached out with a fingertip and pressed her mouth closed. ‘No more talking of the past, Charlotte.’

      He gave her a crooked smile and, bending down, replaced his finger with his mouth in a soft brush-like kiss that made her lips cling momentarily to his as he pulled away.

      She watched as he moved to the door, the words to call him back locked in the middle of her throat. What would be the point in telling him she loved him? It wasn’t what he wanted from her.

      Not now.

      Not again.

      Not ever.

      Charlotte opened her eyes during the early hours of the morning to see Damon lying beside her, his deep and even breathing indicating he was sound asleep.

      She lay looking at him, her fingers itching to reach out and touch his shadowed jaw, to trace the sensual curve of his mouth and the length of his aristocratic nose.

      His legs moved until they were touching hers, her whole body shivering as she felt the rough abrasion of his masculine hair along the silky length of her shins and calves.

      His lips moved and a soft breathless sound came out. ‘Loula…’

      Her eyes widened, her whole body freezing in shock. Her stomach hollowed in anguish as she edged away, her limbs feeling uncoordinated and useless as she got awkwardly out of the bed.

      She heard the sound of him moving behind her. ‘Charlotte?’

      She turned and gave him an acidic glare. ‘Yep, that’s me. Nice of you to remember my name.’

      He eased himself up on one elbow, his brows moving together over his still sleepy eyes. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’

      She folded her arms crossly. ‘You were calling out for your lover.’

      He brought a hand up to his jaw and gave it a quick rub. ‘Which one?’

      Her mouth dropped open. ‘You mean there’s more than one?’ she choked.

      ‘I am not sure how to answer. You surely did not expect me to be celibate for the past four years?’

      She turned away in disgust. ‘Please spare me the sordid details of your sexual exploits.’

      ‘You are jealous.’

      She swung back around to deny it but the room began to spin alarmingly and she clutched at mid-air to steady herself. ‘No…’ She tottered for a moment, her eyes trying to focus on something stable, but even the bed seemed to be in motion.

      Damon leapt out of bed and reached for her before she toppled forward. ‘Here, sit down and put your head between your knees,’ he said as he gently directed her back to the bed.

      Charlotte did as he said, closing her eyes so she didn’t have to cope with the rolling of the floor as well.

      ‘Are you feeling unwell?’ he asked.

      She groaned as a wave of nausea rose like a swelling tide in her stomach. ‘Oh, God…I think I’m going to be sick…’

      She only just made it to the en suite bathroom in time, before she threw up the meagre contents of her stomach.

      Damon rinsed the mess away and, using the basin’s twin, quickly rinsed a face cloth and handed it to her.

      ‘I think I should call the doctor,’ he said. ‘You must have picked up a bug of some sort from the flight.’

      Charlotte clutched at the basin as the room began to spin out of control again. She could hear his voice coming at her through a vacuum, the concern in his tone moving further and further away from her. She turned her head sideways to try and bring him back into focus but he was a dark blur. She felt her legs folding, leaving her without support. Even her fingers gradually lost their grip, the tingling of her fingertips making her feel as if shifting grains of sand were beneath her skin instead of flesh and blood.

      She felt Damon take her weight as she slipped sideways, her eyelashes struggling to keep open, but the sickening swirl of the bathroom was too much for her. She gave in to the lure of dark oblivion with a soft sigh of resignation…

      ‘How long has she been unwell?’

      Charlotte opened her eyes at the sound of the heavily accented voice. She saw Damon standing by the bedside with a man carrying what looked to be a doctor’s bag.

      ‘I’m not unwell,’ she said, struggling upright. ‘I’m fine now…’

      Damon pressed her back down gently. ‘No, indeed you are not, agape mou. Dr Tsoulis will take your temperature at the very least. What you have might be catching. I do not want Emily’s first real holiday to be spoilt by illness.’

      Charlotte flopped back down. She didn’t have the energy to fight him and certainly not in front of the doctor. ‘All right, but I can assure you it’s just jet lag.’

      The doctor took her temperature and gave a shrug. ‘No, she is not running a fever,’ he said and reached for his portable blood pressure machine.

      ‘I told you I’m perfectly fine.’

      ‘When was your last menstrual period?’ the doctor asked as her blood pressure was measured.

      Charlotte could feel her face heating under the watchful gaze of Damon. ‘Um…I’ve been a bit irregular lately…’

      ‘Which means we cannot exactly rule out the possibility of pregnancy,’ Dr Tsoulis said and reached for a syringe.

      Charlotte gulped. ‘What are you doing?’

      ‘I would like to run a few blood tests on you as well as a pregnancy test,’ he said as he placed a tourniquet on her arm. ‘Fainting is often associated with anaemia. Have you been feeling unusually tired of late?’

      ‘Yes…’ She winced as the needle pricked her skin. ‘Ouch!’

      ‘I am sorry,’ the doctor said, releasing the tourniquet. ‘You have small veins.’

      He placed a sticky patch on the puncture site and gave her a reassuring smile. ‘I am sure this will tell us what we need to know. In the meantime I suggest you get as much rest as you can.’

      Damon escorted the doctor out and, after a few minutes, returned with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. ‘Emily is with my mother,’ he informed her. ‘She has had breakfast and is keen to go swimming.’

      ‘Doesn’t she want to see me?’

      ‘I told her you were resting,’ he said. ‘I do not want her to worry unnecessarily.’

      Charlotte could feel her resentment building. ‘I told you I am not sick, Damon.’

      ‘We will not know that until the test results come in.’

      ‘Anaemia is not contagious.’

      ‘You might have any number of things wrong,’ he pointed out. ‘I would like to play safe until we know for sure.’

      ‘You’re doing this deliberately, aren’t you?’ She sent him an accusing glare. ‘You’re nudging me out of Emily’s life so she won’t miss me when you get rid of me for the second time.’

      He looked down at her with a brooding expression. ‘You are developing a persecution complex. I have no intention of getting rid of you. Our relationship will not end until such time as we both desire it.’

      ‘If you were being truthful you’d admit you’d like to end it right now,’ she said. ‘So you can get on with your relationship with Loula