Summer Surrender. Sarah Morgan

      Sex was just—well, sex.

      Turning on the taps, she leaned over the washbasin, filled her palms with cold water and splashed her face as if washing her face might also wash away the memories that she’d conjured up.

      It had only been a brief glimpse, but it was enough.

      Enough to strengthen her resolve.

      With the cool water came a feeling of calm and she blotted her face with a towel and stared in the mirror.

      It didn’t matter what dress she chose to wear. It wasn’t going to make a difference to who she was or how she’d chosen to live her life. She was never, ever going to let sexual chemistry cloud her judgment.

      Never. It just wasn’t going to happen. No matter how sexy the man. No matter what the temptation.

      Having seen first-hand the devastation that such a relationship caused, there was no way she was going to make that mistake herself. And wearing a sexy dress and a pair of gorgeous shoes wasn’t going to change that.

      She made decisions with her head and her brain, not with her body.

      It didn’t matter that she was in paradise with a dangerously sexy man and a wardrobe to die for.

      She was still using her brain. She was still in charge of her decisions.

      She could wear any one of those sexy dresses and it wouldn’t make a difference to the outcome of the evening.

      ‘Let’s see which one of us suffers most, Alessio Capelli,’ she murmured under her breath as she selected a lip gloss from the basket of make-up that had been left for her use. Removing it from its packaging, she applied it to her lips and stared at herself with satisfaction.

      Clothes and make-up didn’t dictate your choices in life.

      She could be naked and she’d still be able to resist Alessio Capelli because that was what she wanted to do.

      It was all about choices and she knew which choice she was going to make.

      Alessio strolled up to the open door of the villa and paused, stunned by the vision that confronted him.

      The door was open and he watched transfixed as Lindsay—

      a vastly different Lindsay—twisted her hair into a knot and fastened it with a clasp made from a seashell.

      Her slender form shimmered in turquoise silk, an exotic vision of femininity. His gaze lingered on the curve of her bottom and he felt an instantaneous surge of lust.

      ‘Well—’ without waiting for an invitation, he strolled into the living room ‘—you clearly didn’t have a problem finding something to wear in the wardrobe.’

      And he’d expected her to. In fact he’d prepared himself for protests. But there was no protest. Instead she appeared almost serene.

      ‘Why would I have had a problem?’ Tilting her head, she checked her reflection in the mirror, as composed and controlled as ever. ‘It’s incredibly generous of you to lend me so many beautiful things. Thank you, Alessio.’ With a smile that appeared genuine, she slid her feet into a pair of sparkling jewelled shoes with heels so high that walking should have been impossible.

      Scanning the length of her legs, Alessio was forced to admit that, yet again, Lindsay Lockheart had surprised him. He hadn’t expected a positive reaction to the wardrobe he’d provided. He’d instructed the staff to select glamorous clothes, designed to accommodate the needs of a relaxed woman on a beach holiday.

      Lindsay wasn’t anyone’s idea of a relaxed woman.

      Knowing what he knew about her desire to control every aspect of her life, he was astonished that she’d apparently embraced someone else’s choice of clothes—particularly when those clothes were a dramatic departure from her normal choice of dress. He had a strong suspicion that dressing in a boring and businesslike fashion was all part of her desperate urge to control her surroundings and the way everyone reacted to her. That being the case, he would have expected her to be uncomfortable parted from her crisp white shirt and her safe navy skirt. Instead she was reacting to her new look with decidedly feminine enjoyment.

      Far from rejecting the clothes, she seemed to be revelling in them.

      His experienced eye noted the subtle touches of make-up that drew attention to her soft, lush mouth and her smooth creamy skin.

      And then something in her eyes caught his attention—a cool unspoken challenge that was at odds with a woman who was dressing up purely for pleasure.

      And he knew then that she wasn’t relaxed.

      He smiled to himself, deriving a certain satisfaction from the fact that he’d read her correctly after all. She wasn’t at all relaxed. But she was determined that he wouldn’t know it.

      So why was she wearing the clothes?

      Why wasn’t she standing in front of him demanding that he find her a navy linen suit or something else designed to extinguish the last burning embers of a man’s libido?

      ‘Has your client arrived?’ Still focusing on her reflection, she pushed a few wisps of blonde hair away from her face.

      ‘Not yet.’

      ‘Clearly he has money to burn.’ Lindsay turned to face him. ‘I’m sure you’ll charge him for your time, whether he turns up or not.’

      ‘Of course.’

      They were sustaining a conversation and yet an entirely different form of communication was simmering beneath the surface of cool civility. With his skill at reading women, Alessio noted the slight flush in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the application of make-up and the darkening of her eyes.

      Dealing with his own burn of lust, he wondered how long they were going to play this game.

      ‘I still haven’t managed to contact Ruby.’

      He had a feeling she’d raised the subject of her sister purely to remind him of the reason she was here.

      ‘That doesn’t surprise me. If she wanted you to know where she is, she would have told you.’

      Alessio felt the vicious tug of lust deep in his loins because she looked truly beautiful and something about the way she was looking at him drove every rational thought from his head.

      ‘Something wrong, Alessio?’ She raised an eyebrow and he smiled in response, well aware that she’d won that round.

      Suffer, her eyes were saying and he almost laughed because he was suffering and he was completely sure that she knew it.

      For a brief moment he contemplated backing her against the enormous bed and removing the dress he’d paid for, but he knew that such an unsubtle approach would just give her opportunity to reject him.

      So instead he satisfied himself with a long, lazy look at her.

      The colour of the dress was perfect for her skin and hair; turquoise shot with strands of blue and green, the dress fell from tiny beaded straps and was cut to display the tempting dip between her breasts. Alessio’s appreciative gaze lingered on the hollow cleft and he heard her sharp intake of breath.

      ‘Do you think you could remove your eyes from my cleavage?’

      He smiled. ‘Why would I want to do that? You look spectacular.’

      ‘Thank you.’ She accepted the compliment in a businesslike fashion and walked briskly towards the door. Only once she’d created a safe distance between them, did she turn. ‘Are you coming?’

      Alessio strolled towards her and tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, feeling a flicker of satisfaction as he felt her initial resistance.

      He knew that she was nowhere near as cool and indifferent as she was pretending to be.

      But instead of withdrawing or