Название | Patriot Threat |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Steve Berry |
Жанр | Шпионские детективы |
Серия | Cotton Malone |
Издательство | Шпионские детективы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781427258069 |
‘Cold?’
It was more than that. A chill she couldn’t explain. For it was enmeshed in a host of emotions she felt unable to voice. Paramount was the need to seek solitude…for to remain here, close to him, was more than she could bear.
‘I need to go change,’ she managed lightly, grateful when he released her, and she swam to the side of the pool where she lifted herself in one easy movement onto the marble tiles.
It took bare minutes to towel the moisture from her body and fix the towel sarong-style round her slender form, then she picked up a second towel and wound it turban-fashion over her hair.
Without a backward glance she entered the adjacent cabana and made her way through to the guest wing and her suite, where she showered, washed her hair, then donned comfortable jeans, a knit top, and opened her laptop.
If she’d had a choice she’d have opted to follow Teresa’s lead and eat a light meal here, instead of joining Raúl in the dining room. Dinner à deux didn’t exactly appeal for a number of reasons…too many to settle for any one.
Consequently she changed into black silky evening trousers, added a black lacy top, fixed her hair, applied light blusher and lipgloss, and slid her feet into black stilettos.
Informal, almost casual, but with a degree of style, she accorded, and made her way downstairs.
‘Señor Raúl will join you soon,’ Elena imparted as Gianna entered the dining room.
So much for hoping to dine alone. Which, given the intimacy they’d shared, seemed little less than ridiculous.
So suck it up and pretend.
Sure, and she could do that?
Try, a silent voice prompted.
And she did…she really did.
Except Raúl was there, a disturbing, disruptive presence who stirred her emotions to fever-pitch. Even to observe his hands as he ate proved a vivid reminder of just what havoc those hands could cause to her equilibrium…
As to his mouth…she didn’t dare go there.
‘I may be needed in Madrid tomorrow.’ He forked the last morsel of food and pushed his plate to one side. ‘A conference call in this instance isn’t achieving a satisfactory result.’
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