The Flaw In His Diamond

‘Roman Quisvada.’

‘I beg your pardon?’ She gazed up, bewildered for a moment as he spoke.

‘Introductions,’ he said. ‘As you’re coming to stay in my home, I think we should at least be civil to each other.’ He took her hand in a firm grip.

The handshake might have lasted no more than a few seconds, but the effect lasted a lot longer.

‘Call me Roman,’ he murmured, staring down at her.

As in emperor? Conqueror?

The count’s stare suggested either description was apt. One thing was sure, Roman Quisvada only accepted one rank, and that was Commander-in-Chief. Where he led others followed. When he spoke others listened. And much as a wolf wouldn’t trouble himself about the ants he trod on, she barely registered a blip on his radar.

Were those black eyes laughing at her again? Arrogant man!

Infuriatingly, her body didn’t seem to care. There didn’t seem to be an insult he could deal her that could stop her wilful body craving him. Or her eyes devouring him, Eva reluctantly conceded. ‘Well, I’m glad I’ve got your interest at last,’ she said coolly, checking her towel was securely fixed.

‘Oh, you’ve got my interest,’ he confirmed as he started to mount the stairs. ‘Though there may come a day when you wish you hadn’t.’

‘Are you threatening me?’ Her voice sounded much smaller than she had intended.

‘I’m just letting you know I’ll be watching you.’

Her pulse leapt at the thought, while her mind warned her frantically that this was not a good thing. ‘That’s fine by me,’ she said with a careless shrug. ‘You can waste your time watching me all you want. I don’t know what you think I’m going to do.’

‘Right now you’re going to take a shower and change your clothes, and then you’re going to meet me in the hall.’

She bridled at his orders. And wearing what? A tee bearing the name of an ancient rock band and a fresh pair of jeans? A wedding had been the very last thing on her mind when she left Skavanga, and it certainly wasn’t in her nature to insult the bride and groom by turning up wearing something like that. ‘I’d much rather wait on the sidelines for you.’

‘I’m sure you would. But that’s not how it’s going to be, Eva. We’re going down to the village together, and we’re going to attend the wedding together.’

‘Won’t people ask questions?’

‘And if they do?’

‘Wouldn’t it be easier for you to spare a few minutes to talk to me before you leave for the wedding?’ she suggested, trying hard not to register Roman’s intoxicating, warm and spicy scent.

‘Easy isn’t my way, Eva.’

‘Well, if a wedding’s more important to you—’

‘That’s enough,’ he rapped, shocking her into silence. ‘Shall we both examine our motives for being here, Miss Self-Righteous? I’m here on the island for my cousin’s wedding. What’s your excuse?’

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