The Italian's Summer Seduction. Karen Van Der Zee

      ‘Take my hand.’

      ‘I can manage.’

      No way did Milly want physical contact. But he ignored her, taking her delicate hand in his much stronger one and he couldn’t have taken more care of her as he helped her negotiate the scary path if she’d been his best beloved. And observation that for a silly moment made her wish that she really was.

      Her face red with embarrassment at the way her thoughts were taking her, Milly tugged her hand free the moment they reached the soft white sand of the cove, wishing again she’d never embarked on this crazy scheme. She had to remind herself firmly that now that she had to carry on with it as she watched him drop the rucksack in the shade of a rock.

      Then he turned to face the sea, his dark head thrown back, his perfectly proportioned body stretching with sensual animal grace as he welcomed the warmth of the sun on his bronzed skin.

      Milly told herself to look away but she couldn’t. He was magnificent, and when he turned to her, a grin making him look irresistible, and said, ‘We’ll swim first. Race you to the water!’ a skitter of something wicked attacked the length of her spine.

      Those long tanned fingers of his were at his belt buckle. Milly’s heart began a wild tattoo as she became cringingly aware of the scanty nature of the so-called swim wear beneath her shorts and top.

      She could always decline, refuse to go anywhere near the water. There was no law that said she had to.

      But Jilly would never pass up on such an opportunity to flaunt her assets in front of such an eminently desirable male. She was no shrinking violet! Milly knew her twin inside out, knew how she would behave.

      Here in this magical place, alone with the man she loved, she would be hoping to lure him into changing his mind about the veto on marriage, tempt him and then protest her innocence in the matter of theft. Milly was sure she couldn’t go that far, it was too dangerous. The protestations of innocence would have to come from her twin—and the tempting bit. But if she was going to continue to act the part of her twin then at least she had to stay in character.

      As she forced herself to untie her top she noted that Cesare had shed his jeans and was now clad in brief black swim trunks that did zero to disguise his manhood. Gulping, she turned her back on him, her heart fluttering, nervous tension threatening to pull her apart as she reluctantly shed her top and muttered, ‘You go ahead. I don’t do racing.’

      Cesare didn’t move. She was clearly uncomfortable. Desperately uncomfortable. Her back, naked save the narrow ribbons that must hold her bikini top in place, was taut with inner tension. Her fingers hesitated at the waistband of the shorts she was wearing.

      Compassion twisted deep in his chest. Had her hard-nosed twin forced her into this charade against her will? It was beginning to look like it. The Jilly Lees of this world went full tilt to get what they wanted, never mind who got hurt in the process.

      His hands fisted then uncurled at his sides as she took the plunge and stepped out of her shorts revealing smooth firm buttocks, long shapely legs. She was so beautiful. His heart jerked. And then she half turned and his mouth ran dry. The three scraps of fabric that pretended to be a bikini were outrageous, the bottom half barely held in place by a thong.

      Exactly the sort of siren stuff her twin would choose. Plainly not expecting him to be still waiting, she shot him a wild look, her skin flaming, then fled for the sea. Following more slowly, Cesare actively disliked himself for putting her through this.

      He should have told her he knew what was going on the moment they had set foot on the island, demanded to know where her twin was. Not played games.

      Apart from short hair, short fingernails, she and Jilly were physically identical. Yet he had never been remotely attracted to her twin, finding her overt sexiness a distinct turn-off. Which led him to the uncomfortable conclusion that he was definitely attracted to the softer, gentler version.

      Against his will. But still attracted.

      As the cool aquamarine waters closed around her overheated body Milly relaxed just a little. She had truly believed he would have already been in the sea. But he’d been standing there all the time, watching her with those dark unreadable sexy eyes while she’d stripped off her top clothes. From the back she would have looked naked, she thought with a shudder of deep embarrassment, and from the front not a whole lot better. The tiny scraps of fabric did more to tantalise than to conceal.

      And the way he’d looked at her—well, she wasn’t going to think about that! Striking out in a racing crawl, she kicked out for the headland that sheltered the cove.

      She was a strong swimmer and loved the water. In fact she had won cups during her schooldays. It was the one area where she had left Jilly far behind. Jilly hated physical exertion.

      For the first time since she’d made the momentous decision to go along with his belief that she was her twin sister, Milly felt free, at ease with herself and the watery elements as she stroked through the swells. But the rocky headland looked no nearer and at this rate she wouldn’t reach it until a week on Sunday—

      A sudden surge, the impression that she was being attacked by an extra large and determined octopus, had Milly gasping, squirming as Cesare’s head emerged, sea water running in rivulets from his sleek head, his arms tight around her body.

      ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she spluttered in outrage. She had headed out here to escape him for a short but precious time. But he’d followed. Wasn’t the ocean large enough for both of them?

      He was spoiling her pleasure, wiping out that glorious feeling of freedom. ‘Let go of me!’ He was stopping her progress, what there had been of it. And worse, far worse, his grip meant their bodies were touching, breast to thigh. She could feel the hard determined strength of him against her slender curves and it was just too much. Her heart was pounding with the effort to stop herself from pressing much, much closer, winding arms and legs around every bit of him she could reach.

      ‘Saving you from drowning.’ His mouth was taut. The current here is deadly. As I would have warned you if you’d hung around long enough to listen.’ Treading water, he shook his head with a snap of impatience, water droplets scattering. ‘Head back. Now!’

      Shuddering, Milly became aware of the undertow she’d unknowingly been fighting for the last few minutes, dragging them steadily and inexorably towards the horizon.

      Frightened now, she struck out, fighting against the current, heading back to the distant shoreline, aware that Cesare was shadowing her, modifying his progress to hers, and she was more grateful than he would ever know because, strangely, she felt that nothing could harm her while he was with her.

      When at last they were clear of the undertow he powered ahead of her and, seconds later, it seemed, he stood up, finding bottom, the gently swelling water reaching his trim waist.

      Waiting. His features like a thunderstorm.

      Milly swam slowly towards him, her lungs still burning from her strenuous fight against the undertow, the calm surface water hiding the danger. As soon as she was within reach Cesare slid his hands beneath her arms and hauled her to her feet and bit out with blistering fury, ‘Don’t ever pull a stunt like that again!’ his eyes black with fury. His hands tightened on her slender shoulders. ‘Dio mio! You could have died, you bird-brained little fool!’

      And he could have died trying to save her, was her initial mortifying thought, fully aware that he would not have stood idly by and watched her put herself in danger. But his bellowed insult moved her to self defence and she raised her chin, her heart still pounding from her efforts, her breasts heaving, pushing against the clinging, useless scraps of fabric and snapped right back, ‘How was I to know? And you can stop yelling!’

      She shimmied her shoulders wildly, trying to loosen his punishing grip, but his hands just slid down to her waist, tugging her towards him with a bitten out, ‘You—’ Then his mouth was on hers with forceful, angry passion, one hand pressing her body into his until she could feel the