Summer Surrender. Sarah Morgan

ridiculously sentimental about everything and you take it far too personally.’ His gaze was suddenly thoughtful. ‘Or maybe it is personal. Is it personal, Lindsay? Or do you feel this strongly on every subject?’

      Her mouth dried. ‘I care, that’s all.’

      ‘I know. I’m just wondering why.’

      ‘Because I’m a human being.’ Deeply regretting ever starting the conversation, Lindsay concentrated her attention on the Caribbean Sea, which sparkled beneath her in the dazzling sunlight. She’d forgotten that he was a lawyer. With a few simple words he’d turned everything around and suddenly she was the one in the dock.

      She needed to be careful.

      Really careful.

      ‘So what do you want me to do?’ Realising that they’d finally arrived, she turned to him. ‘I mean, I expect you were planning to brief me on the flight, but I was ill—do you have something I should read? What’s my role?’

      He circled a word on the page in front of him and then looked up. ‘Your role, Lindsay, is to act as my assistant.’ His dark eyes held hers for a moment and she felt everything inside her grow warm.

      Appalled by her extremely unwelcome reaction to him, she frowned and dragged her gaze from his. ‘I know that I’m your assistant, but I’m just not sure what you expect of me. Some details would be helpful.’

      ‘I expect you to make our client feel comfortable. We need to make him feel that we understand his situation and that we’re committed to representing his interests.’

      ‘All right.’

      ‘I don’t expect you to ask if he’s tried counselling.’

      Lindsay swallowed. ‘Fine. Are you going to tell me about him?’

      ‘Not yet. His presence on the island is top secret. If his identity was leaked, it could cause a problem. The owner prides himself on guaranteeing the absolute discretion of everyone on the island.’

      ‘But he trusts you?’

      ‘Lindsay—’ his voice was gentle ‘—I am the owner. It’s my island.’

      ‘Yours?’ She looked at him stupidly and then out of the window at the sugar-soft sandy beach that stretched towards a stylish beachfront villa. Another villa was visible farther along the sand. ‘You own this? I thought you were a lawyer, not a property magnate.’

      ‘I have several business interests.’ He slid the file into his briefcase.

      Lindsay arched an eyebrow. ‘Worried that the divorce business might not sustain you into your old age, Alessio?’

      ‘It’s good business practice to diversify and I find my various business interests complement each other. You’d be surprised how many men are eager to check into remote, five-star luxury in order to escape their marriages.’

      ‘Escape responsibility, you mean.’

      Alessio gave a faint smile. ‘As I was saying, Kingfisher Cay fits nicely into my business portfolio. The rich and famous are guaranteed an exclusive hideaway in which they can lick their wounds, safe in the knowledge that the world’s press aren’t watching them.’

      ‘And safe in the knowledge that their exclusive private villa comes with free legal advice.’

      ‘I wouldn’t exactly describe it as “free”.’ Alessio leaned across and unfastened her seat belt, his eyes settling on her black skirt. ‘I have a feeling that the first thing you might want to do is rethink your wardrobe. You’re going to be extremely hot in that suit.’ He was uncomfortably close to her and although she wanted desperately to look away, somehow she couldn’t quite manage it. It was as if he were holding her there, trapped. Helpless. Something flickered in the depths of his eyes, something raw and elemental, and her heart started to bump rapidly against her chest.

      ‘I have a change of clothes in my bag,’ she said hoarsely, but still he didn’t move, the temperature between them rising to intolerable levels as he held her gaze.

      Then he released his own seat belt and stood up. ‘Good.’

      She thought he was smiling, but she couldn’t be sure because he was talking to the pilot in rapid Italian and then the door of the plane opened and sunlight and warmth filled the cabin.

      Alessio turned, his hair gleaming blue-black under the burning sun, more shockingly handsome than any man had a right to be. ‘Welcome to Kingfisher Cay.’

      So he was handsome, she’d always known that.

      Damn the man.

      Feeling hot, sticky and desperately unsettled, Lindsay dumped her small overnight bag on the floor of the villa and burst out laughing. When Alessio had told her she would be staying in a villa she’d imagined that she’d be sharing something relatively modest with several other people. Instead, the smiling staff member who had met their seaplane had led her to a private villa. A villa just for her. And her overnight bag looked as out of place as she felt.

      The spacious living room opened directly onto the beach and was decorated in a sophisticated palette of cool colours that created an atmosphere of restful calm. The bedroom was dominated by an enormous teak four-poster bed, draped in acres of light creamy muslin and dressed with piles of silk cushions in elegant, restrained shades.

      Lindsay stared around her in disbelief, so distracted by her surroundings that she forgot she was hot, sticky and desperately uncomfortable. She forgot about the hot burn of sexual awareness that had been with her ever since she’d arrived at Alessio’s office. She even forgot that she still hadn’t managed to contact Ruby. She was so stunned by the sheer luxury of the villa that for a moment she simply stood there.

      What was she doing here?

      Had this really been Ruby’s life? It was hardly surprising she’d loved her job if this was one of the perks.

      She strolled through a door and found herself in a lavish marble bathroom that again opened directly onto the beach. Taking in the multispray shower and the array of exclusive toiletries, Lindsay shook her head.

      It was possible to lie in the bath and stare at the palm trees swaying on the beach.

      If staying here was work, what did Alessio Capelli do for entertainment?

      Hearing footsteps behind her, she turned and saw a pretty blonde girl dressed in a white uniform standing in the doorway.

      ‘I’m Natalya. I’m your housekeeper for the duration of your stay at Kingfisher Cay. Anything you want, you have only to ask. I expect you’re hot and tired after your journey. Would you like to change while I unpack for you?’

      Unpack? Unpack what, exactly?

      Lindsay’s eyes slid to her bag. It sat forlorn and abandoned in the centre of the polished wooden floor. ‘I don’t have much luggage. I wasn’t expecting—This was a bit of an—impulse trip.’

      As if anyone would come to a place like this on impulse. Even for the elite few fortunate enough to be able to afford it, it would be a rare treat. For the rest of the population, the silky sand and turquoise sea of Kingfisher Cay would never be more than a picture to drool over in an exotic travel brochure. Except that this place didn’t feature in travel brochures.

      Natalya didn’t appear to find the absence of luggage at all odd. Obviously accustomed to the odd behaviour of the rich and famous, she simply smiled. ‘We pride ourselves in being able to provide anything and everything you need. If you like, you can give me a list. Or I can simply provide you with what I think you’ll need for a happy and comfortable stay here.’

      Lindsay smiled at that. ‘You’re even prepared to do my thinking for me?’

      ‘We’re used to living here,’ Natalya murmured. ‘We know what you’re likely to need.’

      ‘I don’t