Modern Romance March 2015 Collection 1. Кэрол Мортимер

of mind—and his aching body—if his carer had been that muscle-bound tattooed man.

      Tattoos...

      Now that was a tantalising thought. If Samantha did have a tattoo what would it be and where would it be? A flower or a butterfly, perhaps? On her shoulder? Her breast? Or maybe her lower back, at the top of the curve of that deliciously rounded bottom?

      Not helping, Sterne.

      And yet the image—the fantasy—lingered as he washed his hair and rinsed his aching body.

      * * *

      ‘You can turn around now. I’m perfectly decent!’

      Then Xander’s definition of decent must be vastly different from her own, Sam decided as she turned to watch him as he limped awkwardly into the bedroom, another towel, only slightly larger than the previous one, secured about his naked hips. Making the decision she had made, while he was showering, not to show any reaction to his nakedness, completely null and void.

      Because he was definitely perfect. But decent? Absolutely not!

      He looked like a pagan god who had risen from the sea, his chest still gleaming with droplets of water from where he had obviously washed his hair in the shower, that tousled blondness appearing darker when damp, the long length of his legs obviously also still wet and dripping water onto the carpet.

      ‘I can’t bend down that far,’ he drawled as he saw the direction of her gaze.

      ‘You should have called me,’ Sam said briskly.

      ‘I didn’t want to embarrass you again.’

      ‘I wasn’t—’

      ‘Yes, you were,’ he rasped harshly. ‘Are.’ He moved to sit on the side of the bed as he looked up at her through narrowed eyes. ‘The question is why are you, when you’ve been married and have a daughter to prove it?’

      ‘I told you, I’m not embarrassed.’ Sam moved briskly across the room to drop down onto her knees in front of him as she began to towel dry the long length of his legs, taking care to gentle her movements on his injured leg, avoiding the several healing scars running the length of it.

      ‘Liar,’ he drawled.

      Sam looked up at him sharply. ‘I think you have an overinflated opinion of your own sexual prowess, Mr Sterne.’

      ‘Not recently I don’t,’ he admitted.

      The perfect opening... ‘I should have mentioned this to you before.’ Sam kept her head bent as she concentrated on drying his feet. ‘I don’t think—I would prefer, for the duration of our stay here, that you didn’t—I realise this is an imposition,’ she began again, ‘but Daisy is only five, and I really don’t—’

      ‘Do you seriously think there’s a danger of any woman being interested in going to bed with me the way I am at the moment?’ Xander bit out harshly as he obviously guessed where her fumbling conversation was going.

      What Sam thought was that there was a distinct possibility that women would still want to go to bed with this devastatingly handsome and sensual man, even if he were on his deathbed!

      There was an innate sensuality to Xander Sterne that would no doubt still be with him when he was ninety. And the bone structure of his face was such that he would always have that chiselled handsomeness that so many women—including Sam, unfortunately—found so devastatingly attractive.

      ‘Or that I’m even capable of making love to a woman at the moment?’ he demanded.

      Sam raised her brows. ‘I’m sure if you were to experiment that you would find a position that was comfortable— Forget I said that,’ she dismissed as she stood up quickly from drying his feet, her cheeks once again blazing with embarrassed colour.

      What had she been thinking?

      Too much about being in bed with Xander, that was what she had been thinking about!

      ‘I’m intrigued, Samantha.’ He now regarded her teasingly. ‘Exactly what position did you have in mind?’ He looked thoughtful. ‘The woman on the top would probably be the most comfortable for me, I suppose.’

      ‘Look, all I was trying to say a few minutes ago was that I know this is an imposition, but I really would prefer it if you refrained from bringing any women to your apartment for the next two weeks while Daisy and I are staying here,’ she muttered exasperatedly.

      He arched one blond and arrogant brow. ‘Are you going to make it worth my while?’

      Sam blinked. ‘Sorry?’

      He placed his hands on the bed behind him as he leant back on his arms, emphasising the muscles of his shoulders and arms as he looked up at her challengingly. ‘What are you offering if I agree not to bring any women to the apartment while you and Daisy are staying here?’

      Sam’s mouth firmed at what she had been sure was a deliberate and blatant display of his masculinity, followed by what sounded like a proposition. ‘I’m not offering anything in exchange for what I consider to be a reasonable and polite request.’

      ‘That’s one answer, I suppose.’

      ‘It’s the only answer you’re going to get from me,’ Sam assured him stiffly. ‘At the risk of receiving yet another one of your less than subtle replies—do you need anything else from me tonight?’

      Xander couldn’t help but grin as he saw the challenge sparkling in the boldness of Samantha’s gaze, and realised that he was starting to like her. Not just in a sexual way—after his physical response to her earlier, that was a given!—but he definitely approved of her spirited conversation, and her sense of humour too.

      Possibly a first for him where a woman was concerned.

      Over the years Xander had fallen into the habit of dating models and actresses, visually beautiful and physically desirable women. But he hadn’t necessarily got to know them well enough to discover their personalities too. Mainly, because he hadn’t been particularly interested in knowing them that well, as long as they were beautiful to look at and satisfied him in bed. Which really wasn’t as selfishly one-sided as it sounded, because the same was true in reverse; as long as those women could be seen out and about and be photographed on the arm of the billionaire Xander Sterne, they seemed more than happy with the arrangement.

      A little—a lot!—shallow of them, and him, perhaps, but the sort of wealth and power he possessed seemed to attract that type of woman.

      Samantha was totally different from any of the women he had known before.

      And not just because she was a divorced woman with a young daughter.

      Samantha interested him in ways Xander had never even considered with any other woman. He wanted to know about her: her marriage, her husband, and her divorce. More importantly perhaps, what she had done and how she had lived in the years since that divorce.

      And none of that had anything to do with the fact that he’d also like to take Samantha to bed.

      Well, perhaps it had a little to do with it!

      He certainly wouldn’t say no, for instance, if she were to offer to go to bed with him without first telling him any of those things. In any position she wanted.

      Although, from the look of disgust she was shooting him now, he didn’t think that was even a possibility!

      ‘I’m good, thanks,’ Xander drawled.

      Sam didn’t think this man was good at all. Impossible. Temperamental. Sexy. Wickedly outrageous. But he definitely wasn’t good.

      She straightened. ‘I’ll see you in the morning, then, Mr Sterne.’

      ‘Oh, you can count on it, Samantha,’ he murmured as he watched her cross the room to the door before speaking again. ‘I meant to ask, do you have any tattoos?’