Kitabı oku: «Australia: Wicked Mistresses», sayfa 5
He stepped over the threshold, and a sense of déjà vu filtered through her. Had so much time passed since that sudden rainstorm yesterday? They were here again, standing in the exact same spot, and he was just as imposing and commanding and delicious as ever.
But he wasn’t heading for the bed. He was looking down at her with a mix of desire and depth and …
Trust?
She cleared the lump from her throat and took a breath. Now or never.
“Last night,” she began, “you asked if I wanted to stay.”
He nodded.
She blew out a breath. “Well, Gabriel—see, it’s like this—”
“You want to go back to the resort, don’t you?” His jaw tightened. “You’re missing the spa tubs and silver service.”
“God, no. That’s not it at all.”
His brows snapped together. “You don’t like the resort?”
“If you really want to know …” She scrunched her nose and shook her head. Not a bit.
A pulse in his cheek started to tick and his jaw shifted to one side. “So what’s wrong with it?”
Nina was taken aback. That stony look and tone … Suddenly he seemed so serious. About her dislike of the resort?
He’d said he’d taken this cabin to get away from it all. She’d believed him. But his questions and the intense glint in his eye didn’t sit with his carefree “escape into the wilderness” story. Something didn’t add up.
He wanted to know what was wrong with the resort?
She quizzed him. “Maybe you should tell me?”
He blinked several times before his chin tucked in. “Why would I do that?”
“Because I’m getting the feeling you don’t like Diamond Shores so much either.”
His pupils dilated, swallowing the pale irises until his eyes appeared almost black. “I’m simply interested.”
He crossed the room, sat her on the chair, but she stood straight back up.
His ears were pink with irritation, and there was a weird, distant look in his eye. She wasn’t mistaken. There was far more to his questions than simple interest. Did he trust her enough to tell her what was wrong?
Maybe if she gave him a chance to thaw out?
She collected the bottle off the counter to make two strong coffees. But when she screwed the lid it wouldn’t budge. She clamped the bottle under one arm and twisted hard. Stuck fast.
In the meantime, Gabriel had frowned over. “Are you staying on the island with friends?”
She sighed. If only.
She took a hesitant step nearer. He sounded so gruff. “Why do you want to know?”
“Because I need to know what people are saying. What they’re thinking.”
When he thumped his fist against the wall she jumped. Then he growled under his breath, something about, “… hiding out here … playing Huck Finn … should be back there, making changes …”
With worry choking off her breath, she slowly brought the bottle close to her chest. “Gabriel … what are you talking about?”
Letting out a defeated breath, he sank into the chair.
“I bought this island a week ago,” he ground out. “It’s on the brink of bankruptcy, and I’m here to make sure everything and everyone who doesn’t perform is eliminated.” He lifted his chin. “Pronto.”
The coffee bottle slipped from her hands, smashed, and shattered to pieces. As the crash ricocheted off the walls, Gabriel shot to his feet. The way Nina’s face had paled, the way her hands clutched at her throat, she might have thrown a javelin that had missed his heart by an inch.
She stared blindly at the mess at her feet, then fixed her huge topaz-coloured eyes on his.
“I broke the bottle,” she croaked out, and when her lashes blinked he thought he saw her eyes glisten.
This wasn’t the reaction he’d expected. He hadn’t wanted three cheers, but owning Diamond Shores wasn’t chickenfeed. Or it wasn’t to him. His announcement was at least worth a sentence or two of recognition. Still, God knew how much Nina’s family was worth. Owning an island might well seem inconsequential to many of the guests who stayed here.
He ground his back teeth and ploughed a hand through his hair. It frustrated the hell out of him. Regardless of how far he’d come, there were still times when he felt like someone’s poor relation.
Nina was concentrating on the mess on the floor, as if she couldn’t get her mind around how to clean it up.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he moved forward. “Don’t worry about that.” There was more to worry about than an old broken bottle.
But she didn’t seem to hear. Instead her hands covered her face. “Oh, God, what a mess.”
He took her hands from her cheeks.
“It’s okay,” he said more gently. “I’ll get someone in to clean it up.” But she wound out of his hold, stooped and began to pick up the pieces. He hunkered down and eased the glass from her hand. “You don’t need to do that.” When she collected another piece, he held her wrist. “Nina, I’ll get a maid in from the resort.”
Biting her lip, she stood and spun away, her hands bracing the counter. “We should go. We should go now.”
He tugged an earlobe and groaned.
Okay. He had an idea what was wrong.
Stepping closer, he cupped her shoulders. “Don’t be embarrassed. Yes, I own the island, but I’m glad you told me how unhappy you are with the resort.”
When he’d arrived three days ago he’d introduced himself to key people but had insisted that his true identity be kept from the rest of the staff. He wanted to experience April’s wedding and the resort incognito. He’d also made it clear he needed to be informed of every suggestion for improvements and all complaints.
After he’d jogged to the resort this morning, to bring back some wheels, he’d dropped in to his bungalow and had been greeted by an avalanche of messages. Various managers wanted his ear. One guest had complained he’d been injured—the result of an incompetent ski-boat driver. A celebrity wedding had been cancelled; the bride had heard rumours regarding “off” seafood. The music at the nightclub wasn’t exciting enough. The childminders weren’t any fun.
And so it went on.
A meeting was scheduled for the day before he flew back to Sydney—Monday. He and the managers would crunch figures and implement a kick-butt game plan. But this morning he hadn’t wanted to face the hassle. Face the possibility that this time he might have gone beyond his limits. He’d only wanted to get back to Nina and re-ignite the fires which had raged within these walls last night.
She affected him like a drug, and he wanted to enjoy that all-over high again and again. But he’d been an idiot, a coward, to buy into that distraction. His captivating lover also happened to be a guest at Diamond Shores—a guest who’d admitted in the plainest of terms how dissatisfied she was with the facilities. Talk about a wake-up call.
Every day, every minute counted towards getting this resort back on its feet.
He moved to collect the parcel bag he’d brought in.
Nina was right. They needed to go.
“I put your clothes in to be laundered. I had one of the boutique managers—”
“Whose name did you use?”
To clean her clothes?
He frowned. “Mine.”
Surely she wasn’t concerned about a pair of cutoffs? Although second-hand-looking fashion could be sexy.
He retrieved a wrap and a one-piece from the bag.
So, too, was designer fashion.
From the bottom of the bag he handed over a pair of sunglasses. Her eyes rounded and a puff of wind left her lungs; he might have handed her a priceless jewel.
“I’ve seen these in the window. They’re Bulgari.” She pointed out the arms. “Those are real diamonds.”
As if on autopilot, she slipped them on and moved to the window to check her reflection. He was feeling somewhat redeemed, thinking about how big a bonus to give that astute boutique manager, when Nina’s shoulders came down and she lowered the shades.
She turned back with a sombre face. “I can’t accept these.”
He gave her a sidelong look. “You don’t like them?”
“I love them.”
“Then don’t be modest.”
Although he did admire that quality. Women he dated were often eager to hear about gifts—the more expensive the better. When they started talking diamond rings, he stopped calling. He’d had no time for that kind of commitment. He had less time now.
“It’s not modesty.” She joined him and handed the glasses back. “Not really.”
His laugh was edgy. “Nina, you’re confusing me.”
She inhaled deeply, then her gaze lowered.
Why was she acting like this—avoiding eye contact, drawing away from him? It wasn’t that she was overwhelmed by the fact he owned this place. The only other logical answer came to mind.
“I’m not trying to fob you off,” he assured her. “These aren’t payment or a pay-off for last night. I wanted us to spend the day here together.”
He’d wanted her in that bed again tonight. And their time together didn’t have to be over.
Why couldn’t their connection continue back at the resort? He didn’t know how long she was staying, but surely he would be able to wangle at least some quality time with her before he left on Monday.
His hands settled on her hips and he urged her close. “I have an idea. Move your things into my bungalow. You haven’t been happy with Diamond Shores, but I’ll do everything I can to fix that.” His forehead tipped against hers and he grinned. “Our own private beach. The staff will treat you like a princess. There’ll be hell to pay if they don’t—”
“No.”
When she pulled away, the muscles in his gut wrenched. It was all he could do not to drag her back. Was it so important where they were?
Their kind of chemistry didn’t rely on location. Even if important business was calling him away, they could still come together in the evening. After last night—the way she’d given herself so completely—Nina couldn’t pretend she hadn’t come to this island seeking a little one-on-one companionship. A fling hadn’t figured on his agenda, but it had happened. No reason in the world that it couldn’t continue a few more days yet.
But now she seemed determined to play hard to get.
“I want to go back.” She lifted her eyes to meet his. “And I want to stay in my own room.”
Her cool determination hit him in the chest. He bit down and did what he should have done sooner. He found her arm, brought her back, and held her firmly against him.
His gaze roamed her face as he spoke unforgivably near to her lips. “What about last night?”
He’d meant what he’d said. He’d never wanted to make love to anyone the way he’d wanted to make love to her. He hadn’t been disappointed. She hadn’t been either; he’d made sure of it. After her abandon, why the hard-to-get act now?
He held his breath.
Or had the act been last night?
Had this time away in the bush been nothing more than an adventure for a bored heiress?
She didn’t answer his question. Rather the sparkle he loved to see in her eyes seemed to fade and die.
Gabriel’s heart began to pound. He’d spoken to this woman about trust. About faith. And now, just like that, she wanted out?
She seemed about to say something more—something important. But then the resignation returned to her face and she put out her hand to accept the clothes. “I’ll get changed and we can go.”
He thought about her in those cut-offs … in his arms … in her prima-donna life away from here. He thought about how easily she was prepared to walk away, and a cold ball settled in the cradle of his stomach.
Setting his jaw, he handed over the clothes and, kicking himself for almost falling for a rich girl’s games, stepped aside and let her pass.
CHAPTER SEVEN
NINA moved behind the curtain and changed into the stunning aqua one-piece and matching wrap Gabriel had brought back from the resort.
She ought to feel beautiful. Special. Instead she felt empty. She’d had such high hopes this morning about how this day would evolve, but in these last few minutes everything had soured.
Gabriel had knocked her for six with his admission that he owned this island. Owned it. She hadn’t known Diamond Shores had changed hands since Alice had helped her get her job. In effect, Gabriel was her supreme boss; as well as the woman he wanted to sleep with, she was also one of the problems he needed to have removed. How on earth was she supposed to tell him that?
A few moments later they were tearing along the beach, the bike’s engine roaring, the ocean waves crashing—and Gabriel’s broad, obstinate back in her face. She was torn between needing to wean herself off the magnificent feel of him and desperately wanting to hold on tighter.
As they neared the tall blue side gates of the resort Gabriel changed down gears. When he skidded the bike to a stop, he averted his gaze while she alighted. Her feet on solid ground, she straightened the colourful wrap around her legs, and that empty feeling turned to flat-line hopelessness.
Gabriel Steele’s mission here was to wipe out any rot. Given the many eyes and ears around Diamond Shores, her position wouldn’t be a secret for long. Soon enough he’d hear about Nina Petrelle—her substandard performance, how the other staff disapproved of her breezy ticket in.
She didn’t need to purge herself to him now. Tell him how she’d got to this place in her life. How she’d felt so displaced until he’d brought her back to life last night. He’d find out what he needed to know soon enough. Then it would only be a matter of time before she received her marching orders.
“Can you walk?” He dismounted the bike but kept his sunglasses in place. “I’ll organise a motorised buggy if you’re not sure of your ankle.”
A sea breeze peeled through his dark hair, making it dance above the widow’s peak, but his expression—or what she could see of it—remained unmoved. She hated his stiffness, that formal air. A few hours ago they’d talked and laughed and made the sweetest, and at other times wildest love. Now she had trouble imagining how the firm line of that mouth had pressed such tender affection upon her. The most beautiful time of her life was over.
“I’m fine to walk,” she told him, determined to hold onto what remained of her dignity. “Thank you.”
The mirrors of his glasses flashed in the sunlight as his head dipped a margin. “Can I make an appointment for our doctor to check out your leg and that bump on your head?”
“You’ve done enough.”
Bittersweet longing ribboned around her heart. Yes, he’d done more than enough. He’d saved her life. She was standing here only because of this man’s action and focus. That debt could never be repaid. If she felt gutted now, if she wished things could be different—that time could somehow rewind—she needed to remember she’d been given a second chance and go from there.
She headed off towards her quarters. Her vision had blurred and her heart was steadily sinking when that rich, deep voice came from behind her.
“Nina. Wait.”
Her breath caught. After dashing a tear away, she spun back round. Sunglasses removed, he stood before her in those sexy jeans, his legs braced apart.
“I want you to have dinner with me tonight,” he stated.
The unexpected thrill of having him follow her flashed brighter before it fizzled out. Dinner with Gabriel sounded like heaven, but any liaison was out of the question. When he found out who and what she was, he’d understand why.
“Gabriel, please—”
“I’m not taking no for an answer.” He took both her hands in his, and the smile that made her melt sparkled up in his eyes. “You know it won’t do any good to argue.” When she squared her shoulders and stood her shaky ground, he shrugged. “I could always sweep you up and carry you off. It’s worked before.”
A laugh almost escaped.
From churlish to charming—and Gabriel’s charming was so very hard to resist. But she had no choice. Now they were back at the resort, and their positions had changed so dramatically they couldn’t go back to “last night.”
She was working up another refusal when she spotted a woman in staff uniform gaping over at her: Tori Scribbins—Nina’s roommate, and one of her few friends here. Tori’s hand went theatrically to her heart and she pretended to faint. Nina’s smile broke, and Gabriel’s face slanted into her line of vision. With a precision movement he angled her, and next Nina knew she was shrieking with surprise, back in the cradle of those indomitable arms.
Her first instinct was to slap his shoulder, insist he let her down, but more powerful was the knowledge that he wasn’t giving up on her. He never seemed to give up.
Maybe, just maybe …
Was it too stupid to hope again?
But she’d need to explain what was so difficult to put into words—how she’d come to be on this island, why she’d felt so lost—and she couldn’t do that here. They needed privacy. She had a shift in the kitchen that ended at nine tonight. If she went to his bungalow after that …
He’d begun to stride off, but she pushed against his chest to pull him up.
“I’m busy till nine,” she shot out.
His pace died while his crooked smile grew. “Which restaurant do you prefer?”
“Can we eat in? At your place?”
The sparkle in his eyes heated up. “It’s a date.”
Out the corner of her eye Nina spied Tori, leaning against the doorjamb of the room she must be cleaning; her jaw had dropped to the floor. She guessed this scene would look pretty remarkable … a strong, handsome, determined man whisking Nina the waitress away.
Tori was a true romantic. She’d be hearing wedding bells and planning honeymoons. Nina wouldn’t presume to think that far ahead, but perhaps this rollercoaster Cinderella story might have some kind of happy ending after all.
Gabriel was saying, “Now I’ve got you, I might as well carry you to your room.”
Her room was small and bare and in the staff quarters. No reason she couldn’t get everything off her chest there—but no guarantee he would take the news well. Right or wrong, weak or strong, she wanted to hold onto hope as long as she could. Besides, she needed to get to her shift and he needed to get to work …
To his elimination plan.
“I don’t want to be carried.” But she smiled when she added, “And don’t bother arguing this one. Put me down and I promise I’ll see you after nine.”
He studied her eyes, then reluctantly lowered her to her feet. He stole a lingering kiss from her cheek and murmured near her ear, “I’ll have the champagne poured.”
After she’d watched him stride away around a clump of pygmy date palms, Nina turned back to Tori, who was madly waving her over.
When Nina reached her roommate, Tori swept her into the suite and clapped the door shut.
Tori’s coffee-coloured eyes were dancing with excitement. Her large watermelon wedge earrings swung as she clasped her hands under her chin and literally jumped up and down.
“When you didn’t come in last night I didn’t know what to think. I was going to call the alert if you weren’t back by lunch. Now I understand why you went missing. My only question is … why are you back so soon? You should have called in a sickie.”
Nine chewed her lip. She shouldn’t blab. She didn’t want to risk her secret leaking out before seeing Gabriel tonight. But she simply had to talk. She was bursting to spill about the first good thing to have happened to her in weeks.
They’d moved into the main room and now sat together on the massive semi-circular couch which faced a breathtaking view. The flutter in Nina’s stomach beat faster as she told all about her fantastical evening—up to the point where her cliff-top angel had confessed his true identity as owner of the Diamond Shores Resort.
Tori slumped against the silk brocade cushions and held her cheeks. “Oh. My. Gosh. I’d have passed out. He owns the place? Everything?” Nina nodded and Tori tipped closer. “When are you going to see him again?”
“Tonight. After my shift.”
“Are you going to tell him who you are before or after?”
“Before or after what?”
“He throws you down and ravages you, of course.”
Nina’s sucked down a breath. No use denying she wanted that to happen. A few minutes away from him seemed like an hour. An hour would seem like a week. By tonight she would be near ready to throw herself at him.
But she couldn’t afford any more delays. The longer she kept her secret from Gabriel, the more chance he had of finding out the truth. It was better the news came from her.
“I’ll tell him as soon as I get there.”
They would either kiss, and the fun times would be on again, or he would not be amused and would refuse to contribute to delinquent behaviour as far as resort standards and reputation were concerned. Then again he was the boss. He could make new rules.
Sinking further into the couch, Tori draped her arms over her head and spoke to the rattan fan, circulating air around the vaulted wood beam ceiling. “I bet he kisses like a dream.”
Nina recalled the sensation of Gabriel’s lips covering hers … the way his mouth had coaxed her into sublime submission. “He kisses better than a dream.”
He was drop-dead delectable. That body. That face. That creamy, dreamy voice.
“Maybe he has a brother you could introduce me to?” Tori pushed up and, sashaying over to her vacuum cleaner, gave her watermelon earring a sassy flick. “I could handle putting my duster out to pasture.”
Nina was watching that earring swing. “You could get in trouble, wearing those.” No jewellery was allowed other than studs and a watch. Mr Dorset, the general manager, was a stickler for dress code. Mr Dorset was a stickler for every rule.
Tori struck a pose oozing with attitude. “You’re playing ‘to the manner born’ and I might get in trouble?”
The joke was that Nina was to the manner born. She hadn’t appreciated the privileges she’d enjoyed growing up. She hadn’t missed them when she’d had a well-paid job. Her life had seemed full. She’d been good at what she’d done. Her colleagues had respected her and vice versa.
Tori was deep in thought, fingering that earring. “If you ask me, management need to loosen up. Don’t be overly friendly with the guests,” she sing-songed. “Don’t cough in public or we’ll dock your pay.”
“You wouldn’t be docked for coughing.” Unless it was excessive.
Adjusting the vacuum head, Tori sent her a dry look. “This place needs a darn good shake-up. And you can tell your rich boyfriend that from me.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” Tori stepped on the power, the vacuum roared to life, and she swung her hips in a hoola circle. “Work it, baby.”
Promising to give Tori an update, either tomorrow or later that night, depending on how things went, Nina headed off to change. But she was preoccupied with hoping things would go well, buoyed by fond thoughts of her previous job back in Sydney. She’d belonged at Shimmer magazine in a way she would never belong here. One thing was certain. She needed to feel that sense of belonging again.
While dragging her uniform out from the single-door wardrobe, the phone extension caught Nina’s eye. She’d asked the receptionist at Shimmer to keep her ear to the ground; sometimes management cut too many corners and people were needed back to fill the gaps. So why not take the initiative and call?
A moment later a voice Nina didn’t recognise answered the connection in Sydney, and Nina cleared her throat. “Hello. Would Abbey King be there?”
“Abbey left last week. Can anyone else help?”
Nina’s stomach bottomed out. Abbey was gone too? “Uh, I’m not sure who’s there any more.”
“May I ask who’s speaking?”
“Nina Petrelle.”
“And you’re enquiring about …?”
“I used to work there.”
The receptionist’s tone changed, became low and flat. “Shimmer have no vacancies at this time.”
Nina’s hand fisted around the receiver as suffocating heat crept up her neck.
I was in charge of Features, she wanted to say. I used to buy a latte with extra sprinkles every morning before work. I used to sit around the boardroom and discuss upcoming stories and strategies with my colleagues. I was part of that office, dammit!
The receptionist’s voice infiltrated the red haze. “Hello? Were you calling about a job?”
Nina set her teeth. “I already have a job.”
She slammed the receiver down.
Don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry.
If she started she might not be able to stop, because that same draining question was whispering again in her mind …
Who are you? Where will you end up?
She knew she would survive. It was just a matter of staying strong.
But if Gabriel threw her out tonight she didn’t know what she’d do.
With a spring in his step, Gabriel headed down the wide slate path, which was lined by a jungle of lush tropical garden. Unwilling to admit defeat, he’d made a no-holds-barred play to see Nina again and she’d acquiesced. He wasn’t prepared to throw in the towel without at least writing a closing chapter to their beach-side affair.
When he’d told her that he owned this island resort initially he’d thought she was embarrassed. Then he’d thought she was being a princess, and then he’d surmised that he’d merely lost his appeal. But when she’d walked away, resigned yet also somehow brave, he’d known something more lay behind her change in attitude.
He remembered their conversation the previous night … the way she’d opened up.
What had knocked the wind out of her? he wondered. She’d said she wanted to know who she was. He’d blamed her general dislike of the resort on service and facilities, but after seeing how bereft she’d looked before he’d called her back, he knew it went deeper than that. The obstacle, the crisis bringing her down, was waiting for her here.
Something dug into his hip. He reached and pulled a shell from his pocket. Before leaving this morning he’d found it on the bathroom shelf. Knowing Nina must have left it there, on impulse he’d taken it with him. He focused on the shell’s decorative rays and remembered Nina’s incredible smile.
He held the shell tighter.
He wouldn’t rest until A: he found out all of Nina’s story, and B: he fixed whatever was wrong. If she needed an ally, no matter how busy he got here, he’d be it.
“Excuse me, Mr Steele?”
Gabe wheeled around. Horace Dorset, General Manager of Diamond Shores Resort, was striding up the path. Dorset, with a lemon rosebud adorning his lapel, gave him a pleasant, enquiring look. “Everything well with you, sir?”
“I received your message,” said Gabe. Dorset wanted to speak with him about standardising staff prerequisites. Good plan, but not now. “I’ll get back to you tomorrow.”
Dorset nodded, but didn’t bow off. “I see you’ve introduced yourself to some of the staff.”
Gabriel cast his mind back. “No. Only the managers.”
“The young lady …?”
Young lady? He meant Nina?
Gabriel laughed. “You’re mistaken. Nina’s a guest.” Dorset’s brows slanted, then he shook his head. “You’re confusing her with someone else,’ Gabriel pointed out. Although he wasn’t sure how anyone could mistake an air that confirmed an impeccable upbringing … the way she held herself … the way she spoke.
Dorset thought she was staff? Absurd.
And yet Dorset kept looking at him with something like pity pinching his brows.
Gabriel thought more, then waved an impatient arm towards the hotel. “I saw her go into her room, for God’s sake.”
“Not her room, Mr Steele. A housekeeping trolley was outside. Perhaps Nina entered to help another staff member clean.”
Gabriel probed Dorset’s cool gaze. If Dorset thought this was funny, he wasn’t laughing. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“The woman you saw is a waitress. Nina Petrelle started with Diamond Shores six weeks ago.” Dorset’s shoulders rolled back. “We like to pride ourselves on our standards, and I’m afraid Nina has made one too many errors. I’ve been patient so far, but this episode, withholding her identity from a guest—from you, Mr Steele—is an infringement that cannot be ignored. Measures must be taken.”
Gabriel’s mind felt frozen. He opened his palm and glared at the shell. Had he heard her name right?
“The staff are well aware of our number one rule,” Dorset continued. “No fraternising with guests. I want you to know I’m very strict on that. It can be tempting for a single young woman to covet what others here enjoy—”
Gabriel shot up a hand. He was interested in only one thing. “What did you say her name was?”
“Nina.”
“Last name?”
“Petrelle.”
Nina Petrelle. Anthony Petrelle’s baby sister?
A thousand memories flashed through his mind—playing touch in the Petrelles’ enormous manicured backyard … surfing at Bondi that last summer … Anthony’s sister, that right little madam, sticking it to him every chance she got. If she wasn’t jeering at his favourite shoes, she was niggling about his numerous after-school jobs, or insisting he should do them all a favour and buy a new pair of glasses.
She’d been the kind of over-indulged kid who had a tantrum if no one noticed the new designer ribbon in her silky blonde hair. Nina Petrelle had been the poster girl for spoilt rotten. But for the sake of his friendship with Anthony, who’d been as down to earth as the next bloke, he’d kept his mouth shut.
Gabriel shook his brain and came back to the present.
How the tables had turned. When he’d known Nina last his surname had been Turner, his mother’s name. But if Nina didn’t recognise him, he sure as hell hadn’t recognised her. For one, she was twice the size—and in all the right places. Her hair was six shades darker too.
He remembered her body writhing beneath him in the firelight last night and his insides twisted.
He’d made love to Nina Petrelle?
Dorset’s voice cut into his thoughts. “Mr Steele, I apologise for her behaviour. Gold-digging will not be tolerated here. I’ll go speak with her now.”
