Bedroom Seductions: Two Weeks in the Magnate's Bed. Nicola Marsh

those monsters. I’ve even seen huge chunks of ice sliding off the face.’

      Maybe he should focus on that ice, focus on all that cold—anything to dampen the urge to leap across the table and drag her into his arms as she stared at him with wide-eyed awe.

      ‘I also love the Mediterranean. Especially Italy. Capri is great, with its ancient cobbled streets and home-made pastas.’

      He could have regaled her with tales of his travels all day, particularly as her wide, luminous eyes were fixed on him, her expression fascinated, but the longer she stared at him the harder it was to forget every sane reason why he couldn’t push their involvement—no matter how much he wanted to.

      He’d seen the devastation in her eyes last night, the lingering hurt from the jerk who had screwed her around, and her desolation at having their relationship labelled a fling.

      He’d planned on backing away then, but once he’d taken her on deck, once he’d kissed her, his plans to leave her alone had drifted away on the night air.

      He wouldn’t hurt her by having a fling. But he couldn’t offer her anything else, considering where he’d be for the next year. So where the hell did that leave them?

      For now, he’d keep things light. He’d promised her a tour today—the least he could do after she’d come through for him with the exercise classes—and he’d make it a fun day for her if it killed him.

      ‘You know, the South Pacific islands are growing in my favourite places ranking all the time.’ He leaned forward and crooked a finger at her. ‘I think the present company has a lot to do with that.’

      She blinked, as if startled by his compliment, and he wished he could wring her ex’s neck for battering her self-esteem to the point where she couldn’t accept a compliment without embarrassment.

      ‘You mean Sujit? I totally agree. His food is to die for. I haven’t been to those other places, but I’d definitely put Fiji first on my list.’

      He grinned at her clever sidestep, but he wasn’t done yet. ‘What about Noumea? How high should New Caledonia rate? I hear their moonlit beaches are magical.’

      The recollection of their first kiss stained her cheeks pink. Her eyes dipped to her banana leaf as he belatedly remembered he was trying to cool down, not get more wound up.

      She waved towards the food. ‘You’ll give me indigestion, flirting on an empty stomach. At least let me put a dent in this feast before you turn on the charm.’

      He laughed, more relaxed than he’d been in years despite his desperate yearning for her. It had been that long since he’d enjoyed a woman’s company enough to spend more than a few hours with her, and while he’d dated infrequently, he’d never experienced such a connection on so many levels with any woman. Not even Magda—and he’d married her.

      ‘Let’s finish up and hit the road. I can’t wait to show you the island’s best beach. It’s isolated, so tourists haven’t wrecked it.’

      She mumbled an acknowledgement and focussed on her food. He wondered what he’d said. She’d been cool one moment, and perspiration covering her skin in a delectable sheen the next. A sheen that had him envisaging all sorts of erotic ways he could clean it off.

      If he were prone to flights of fantasy he’d almost say she was hot and bothered about his mention of being on an isolated beach together. Yeah, and of course she wanted to rip his clothes off too. Definitely wishful thinking.

      ‘Is the food too spicy for you?’

      Her guarded gaze snapped to his, as if trying to read something into his innocuous question. ‘No, it’s fine. It’s just a little hot today.’

      Hot? It was positively burning—though the weather had little to do with it.

      He gestured towards the kitchen, indicating drinks, and Sujit bustled out shortly after, bearing two tall, icy glasses and a pitcher.

      ‘Ever had lassi before?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘It’s made from yogurt. Very refreshing. It should cool you down a tad.’

      While he’d need to dunk in a vat of the stuff to remotely cool down.

      She took a tentative sip, before gulping the cold, sweet liquid and running the frosted glass across her forehead. Her eyelids fluttered shut as a relieved smile curved her lips. ‘That was good.’

      Okay, maybe the lassi had done the trick for her, but he was about to explode—and as she opened her eyes he bit back a groan.

      ‘You’ve got a milk moustache. Here—let me.’ He reached out before thinking better of touching her and pointed at her top lip, his words strangled.

      She laughed and wiped her lip. ‘Thanks. Not a good look.’

      He smiled and stuffed another piece of naan into his mouth, concentrating on his food as he mopped up the last of his curry with the bread—anything to take his mind off how much he wanted her.

      He topped up her glass and she drank again. He had the strongest urge to reach over, pull her head towards him and lick the lassi off her top lip.

      Instead, he had to sit there and watch her do it, her tongue flicking out to caress her lip in a slow sweep, and he almost bolted from the table.

      ‘Finished? I’ll take care of the bill and meet you at the car.’

      She nodded, the loose strands of hair around her face floating in the breeze. The urge to brush them away made his gut clench all over again.

      ‘Thanks for lunch. It was delicious. Sujit’s a great cook.’

      As he pulled out her chair, his hand brushed her bare arm, and he gritted his teeth at the feel of her silky, soft skin. At this rate he wouldn’t be able to walk.

      ‘See you at the car.’

      Her open expression told him she had no idea how much he was struggling with his libido, and he turned away and called out to Sujit, who appeared from the kitchen in an instant.

      ‘Mr Zac, your friend is special.’ Sujit’s singsong lilting accent held a wistful note. ‘You have known her long, yes?’

      ‘Not long. Though I agree she’s special.’

      So special he’d given up a valuable day to be with her. After last night he’d almost reneged on their tour; he could have spent the day catching up on paperwork and following up that fax pointing to their suspected saboteur.

      But his wanting to cancel had been more than business; not only had that jerk of an ex done a number on her for sex, he’d lied to her—and the second Zac had heard that he’d known he shouldn’t get involved.

      He was lying to her too.

      Every moment he let her believe he was a PR manager at sea he was being dishonest, and while catching the saboteur demanded duplicity—and ultimately making good on his promise to his uncle—it didn’t stop him hating every second of his deceit.

      So he’d told her a partial truth to compensate for his guilt—told her how badly he wanted her, expecting her to run at the mention of a date let alone anything else.

      Instead, her response to his kiss had shaken him as much as the fact that she’d stood her ground and hadn’t run. And even while he’d planned on begging off the tour today the memories of her fiery reaction had kept him up all night and drawn him here.

      ‘It must be serious. You have never brought a woman to Sujit’s humble café before. Are you going to marry her?’

      Zac laughed. Life was so simple in some cultures. You met a girl, you liked her, you married her. Either that or your parents chose a bride for you.

      ‘No.’A strange tingle ran up his spine, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. ‘I’m just showing her around