Love Islands: Swept Away

He’d been on the receiving end of that stare every time he walked into a room, just as every time he came within touching distance she found a way to move away. He’d thought she would be happy when he’d arranged for her to work with the chef at the resort restaurant a few hours each day to keep her skills sharp. She’d been pleased and his chef had sung her praises, but Maisie continued to be aloof.

Enough was enough. He wanted that distance gone.

The voice that suggested he might live to regret closing that distance was ruthlessly suppressed. He strolled further into the room and stopped in front of her, arms folded. ‘Our son is waiting.’

Satisfaction burst through him when her eyes lit up with rebellious fire.

‘Um...sorry, Bronagh, I have to go. I’ll be in touch again at the end of the week.’ She smiled and signed off, then glared up at him. ‘Was there any need to be so rude?’

‘Perhaps you should ask yourself the same question.’

A frown marred the light, golden hue of her skin, the result of enjoying the Hawaiian sun. ‘What on earth are you talking about?’

‘You’ve called your friend three times since we got here. You don’t think she’d be offended that you’re micromanaging her from a distance?’

Her eyes widened. ‘Of course not, we discussed me calling her before I left Dublin.’

‘Every other day?’

‘Maybe not, but—’

‘What percentage of your call involved discussing the restaurant?’

She bit her lip and flushed bright red. ‘That still doesn’t excuse your rudely interrupting me.’

‘I’m only doing what you asked, gattina, and reminding you that you said you’d come with us to view the site. If you’ve changed your mind, all you have to do is say so. Lucca would be disappointed, of course, but...’ Romeo shrugged.

She frowned and checked the clock on the laptop. ‘I haven’t changed my mind. I just didn’t realise what the time was, that’s all.’ She looked at him and her gaze swung away almost immediately. ‘I... I’ll be right there.’

He narrowed his eyes when she remained seated. ‘Is there a problem I should know about?’ he grated, realising he was reaching the end of a hitherto unknown rope of patience.

‘No.’ Her lower lip protruded in an annoyed action so reminiscent of their son that he almost laughed. But his annoyance was far greater than his mirth. And it grew the longer she remained seated.

‘Do I need to eject you from that chair?’ he asked softly.

Her loose, waist-length hair slid over her shoulders as she swivelled her chair sideways. ‘I only meant that I’d meet you outside after I get changed.’

He assessed her blue vest top. ‘There’s nothing wrong with what you’re wearing.’

Her colour rose higher. ‘Not the top maybe, but the shorts aren’t appropriate for going outside.’

Romeo’s legs moved of their own accord, skirting the desk to where she sat. ‘Stand up.’

She threw him another of those highly annoyed looks but reluctantly stood.

He nearly swallowed his tongue.

The bright pink hot pants moulded her hips like a second skin and ended a scant inch below where the material met between her thighs. Instant arousal like nothing he’d ever experienced before battered him so hard, he was sure his insides had been rearranged in the process.

‘Che diavolo,’ he managed to squeeze out when he dragged his gaze from that triangle of temptation between her thighs and the silky smooth length of her shapely legs to her bare feet and up again.

‘Don’t blame me,’ she muttered with husky accusation. ‘It’s not my fault your personal shoppers got my size wrong. If you’d let me go with them like I suggested, none of this would’ve happened.’

He met her impossibly blue eyes with a stunned exhalation. ‘Are you telling me all your clothes are too small?’

He’d had a new wardrobe organised for Maisie and Lucca when it had become apparent that she’d packed clothes suitable for an Irish summer, not the tropical Hawaiian heat. And he for one had been tired of Maisie’s ugly swimsuit after seeing it a second time.

She lifted her hand to fiddle with her hair and a glimpse of her toned midriff sent his temperature soaring another thousand degrees. ‘They’re a size smaller than I’d normally prefer.’

‘And you didn’t say something because?’ He was aware his voice was uneven, hell, strangled, and that continuing to stand this close to her while she was dressed like a naughty cheerleader was an immensely bad idea, but his feet refused to move anywhere but closer, the need to slide his fingers between her legs, test the heat of those hot pants, almost overpowering.

‘Would I have sounded anything but a diva if I’d demanded they send everything back?’

Since he knew every single one of the women he’d dated before would’ve made exactly that demand, and more, he allowed himself a smile. ‘You’re my wife. You’re well within your rights to demand anything you want, as often as you want.’

She seemed to grow unsteady, her hand reaching out blindly for the sturdiness of the desk. But her gaze didn’t move from his, an action for which he felt almost elated. Romeo couldn’t take in how much he’d missed looking into her eyes until that moment. Which was absurd, but unshakeably true.

‘It’s okay, it’s not a big deal. I can get away with most of the tops and dresses, and I’d planned to only wear the shorts indoors.’ She licked her lips and laughed a touch nervously. ‘Besides, I can stand to lose a pound or ten.’

‘Nothing about your body requires adjustment,’ he growled.

She was perfect. And she was blushing in the full-bodied way again that was pure combustion to his libido.

His eyes dropped to where she was winding one leg around the other, her toes brushing her opposite insole. Hunger clawed through him.

Madre di Dio!

‘Go. Change if you must. We’ll be waiting out front,’ he forced out before the unbearable need pounding through him overcame his better judgement and he bent her over the desk.

She nodded and backed away, turning to hurry out of the door. When he was sure she was out of earshot, he let out a thick, frustrated groan, the sight of her delicious backside seeming to tattoo itself in his mind.

He was nowhere near calm when she emerged in a strapless lilac sundress and flip-flops. Luckily for him, his son’s presence served as enough of a deterrent for his out-of-control libido.

Ten minutes later, it became clear she’d gone back to not fully engaging with him, busying herself with fussing over Lucca and avoiding his eyes when he looked her way.

Gritting his teeth, he focused on delivering them to the first duck-pond scouting location.

They toured three sites before arriving at the perfect place for a duck pond. Well within sight of the villa, the area was flat and clear of trees, within full view of the beach. Not that Lucca would ever be alone, but Romeo was satisfied the security posted at various points around the island would have a perfect view of where Maisie and his son were at all times.

The head of the three-man construction crew he’d hired spread out the blueprint on a portable table and began discussing design and schedules, with Lucca merrily pointing out where he wanted his rocks and fountain situated.

Leaving them to it, Romeo strolled to where Maisie stood several feet away, her gaze on the beach a quarter of a mile below.

Her head jerked up as he neared, and she inhaled sharply at the force of his stare, her eyes widening before she attempted to avert her head. He caught her chin and held her still.

‘You want to tell me what’s going on?’

That blank stare again. ‘Sorry, I don’t know what you mean.’

‘I thought we agreed to make this work,’ he rasped.

‘We are.’

‘You call this making it work?’ he blazed under his breath.

‘Romeo, why are you annoyed with me?’

His low mocking laughter grated. ‘I suppose I should be gratified that you’ve noticed that I am annoyed.’

She pulled her chin from his hand. ‘If it’s about me forgetting about the time of the duck-pond visit—’

‘Don’t do that, gattina. It’s beneath you,’ he cut across her.

‘I don’t know what you want me to do. I’m here for Lucca. Isn’t that what we both ultimately want?’ Her voice pulsed with something he couldn’t put his finger on.

No, he wanted to say. I want you to stop shutting me out.

He stepped closer and her delicate apple shampoo and sunflower perfume washed over his senses. ‘What he needs is parents who exchange more than a greeting and a “pass the salt” when they’re in the same room. I may not know enough about little boys yet, but I know he’ll pick up the tension between us if we don’t clear the air.’

She shook her head. ‘But there is nothing to clear.’

He begged to differ. About to demand the truth, he looked deeper into her eyes and finally got why the atmosphere between them had altered so drastically.

‘Dio, how could I have missed this?’ he muttered almost to himself.

Panic flared in her eyes, darkening the striking blue to an alluring navy. He allowed himself a smile, a little less unsettled now he knew the root cause of her frostiness.

‘We’ll take this up again tonight, when Lucca is in bed.’

‘I have nothing to take up with you,’ she blurted.

‘Then you can enjoy your meal and listen to me talk.’

Enjoying the heated suspicion in her eyes, he turned and strode back to join the group. The final design of the pond was agreed, an ecstatic Lucca skipping back to the buggy.

Back at the villa, he watched Maisie rush away with an excuse of rustling up a snack for their son. Romeo curbed a smile, satisfied now that he knew what the problem was of fixing it. He was pussyfooting his way through the unfamiliar landscape of being a father. The tension between him and Maisie stood to jeopardise that. The unnecessary argument in his study this afternoon had proved that. It needed to be resolved. And by midnight, the situation between them would be rectified, with results he was sure would please them both.

He picked up his son and hurled him in the air, his heart tumbling over when he received a shriek of delight in return.

‘Again!’ Lucca urged.

Romeo’s smile widened and he complied.

He’d never relied on luck to achieve his goals, but with a tiny bit of luck he’d get his son’s mother shrieking those same words to him by the time he was done with her.

* * *

Maisie inspected the multitude of new dresses in her wardrobe and finally selected a bronze-coloured cotton shift with a crossover bodice tie. She knew she was risking being late, but ever since her conversation with Romeo earlier she’d been dreading the seven-thirty dinner he’d asked Mahina to prepare.

To say she was terrified of that sudden light that had dawned in his eyes after he’d demanded to know what was going on would be an understatement. And that self-assured smile he’d worn from then on had been an even more ominous sign that whatever he intended to discuss with her tonight would be something she might not be able to deny him.

She tied the knot beneath the bodice of the dress and shakily clipped her hair into a loose knot at her nape. The sleeveless design of the dress would ensure she remained cool in the sometimes sultry evening heat.

And if all hell broke loose, there was also the swimming pool to jump into. She gave a short hysterical giggle and slipped her feet into open-toed platform heels.

Knowing she couldn’t linger any longer, she hurried to Lucca’s room and checked on him, smiling at Emily, who was folding laundry in the walk-in closet, before making her way to the terrace.

The light from fat candles giving off evocative scents blended with solar lamps dotted around the garden and pool.

Next to the table set out for two, a tall silver ice bucket held a bottle of champagne. Romeo was nowhere in sight.

Before she could breathe a sigh of relief from the nerves churning her stomach, she sensed him behind her and turned.

He was dressed in black trousers and a fitted black shirt, his sleeves rolled back to reveal bronzed forearms and a sleek watch. With a few buttons opened at his throat, it was impossible to miss the light wisps of hair or the strong neck and the rugged jaw thrown into relief by all that black. That image of a dark lord, master of all he surveyed, sprang into her mind again.

Maisie swallowed and willed her hormones to stop careening through her bloodstream. But even at this early stage in the night, she knew it would be an uphill battle to continue fighting the need that whistled through her with the ominous sound of a pressure cooker reaching explosion point.

‘There you are,’ he murmured in a deep, hypnotic voice. ‘I was beginning to think I’d been stood up.’

‘I wasn’t aware this was a date,’ she replied feebly. The setting sun, the soft Hawaiian music playing from hidden speakers...the way he looked at her, all pointed to this being all about the two of them and nothing to do with their son.

She took a tiny step back as he came towards her, all dark and brooding. His eyes told her he knew what she was fighting. And the calculating gleam told her he intended to make sure she would lose.

‘Come, sit down.’

He walked past her, trailing an earthy scent of spicy sandalwood and his own potent musk that drew her like a supercharged bee to pollen, and pulled out a chair.

With a feeling of walking towards her doom, Maisie approached and took her seat, then gasped when his fingers trailed the back of her neck.

‘You must be more careful in the sun, gattina. You have mild sunburn right here.’

She shivered and touched the slightly sore spot, berating herself for being disappointed because his touch had been for an impersonal reason. ‘September in Palermo was the hottest weather I’d encountered before Hawaii. I think I might need a stronger sunscreen.’

He sat opposite her, his gaze thoughtful as it rested on her face.

As Mahina served their first course, she held her breath, knowing questions were coming from Romeo.

As soon as the housekeeper left, he asked, ‘You never took holidays abroad when you were younger?’

She shook her head. ‘There was never time for holidays. Or any free time for that matter. Dedication to my studies seven days a week from kindergarten till I graduated from law school saw to that.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘Your parents demanded this of you?’

‘Yes.’

When she didn’t elaborate further, he pressed. ‘Tell me about them.’

‘I thought our pasts were out of bounds?’

Reaching for the chilling bottle, he poured her a drink before serving himself. ‘They are, but I seem to have shared a lot of mine with you without meaning to. I think it’s time we address the imbalance.’

Looking away from him for a moment, she contemplated the last of the lingering orange-and-purple sunset and the stars already beginning to make an appearance.

She didn’t want to talk about her parents, or the single-minded ambition that drove them and had made her childhood an endless drudge of trying, and failing, to please them.

And yet, she found herself nodding.

CHAPTER NINE

SHE PICKED UP her fork and tasted the exotic fruit and prawn salad, and busied herself with chewing while pushing her food around on her plate as she struggled to find the right words.

‘My parents knew very early on that I wasn’t academically gifted as they were—they’re both Fulbright scholars and prize academic excellence above everything else.’

‘Including you?’ he asked astutely.

She swallowed and answered without looking up. ‘Including me. I was an accident, who turned even more burdensome when I was unable to fulfil my full potential in their eyes.’ When he didn’t respond, she risked a glance.

His face was set in a carefully blank expression, but she glimpsed a look in his eyes, a kinship, that made her throat clog.

Clearing it, she continued. ‘To say they were stunned their genius hadn’t been replicated in me was an understatement. I was five when they made me take my first IQ test. They refused to believe the result. I took one every year until I was fifteen, when they finally accepted that I wouldn’t be anything more than slightly above average.’

She sipped her champagne, let it wash away the bitter knowledge that she would always be a disappointment in her parents’ eyes.

‘Did they stop pushing you at this point?’ he enquired sharply after helping himself to the last morsel on his plate.

Her mouth twisted. ‘On the contrary. They pushed me harder with the belief that as long as they continued to polish me I would turn into the diamond they wanted instead of the unacceptable cubic zirconia.’

‘I disagree with that description of yourself, and the assessment that you’re average, but go on,’ he encouraged, lounging back, all drop-dead-gorgeous danger, to nurse his drink as their first course was cleared away.

She shrugged. ‘There’s nothing much to add to that. They were indifferent to everything in my life besides my academic achievements, such as they were. When I told them I wanted to be a lawyer, they grudgingly accepted my decision, then immediately started pulling strings for me to be hired by one of the Magic Circle law firms in the country. When I told them I was taking three months off and then returning to take a position at a firm in Dublin, our relationship strained even more.’

‘But you didn’t back down?’

She laughed bitterly. ‘It’s hard being an average child of two geniuses, who hadn’t wanted a child in the first place. I guess I’d reached a point where I’d had enough.’ She’d wanted to lash out, rebel against the oppressive weight of her parents’ indifference. Palermo had been her moment of rebellion. And while she would never regret having Lucca, she was beginning to be afraid that the one man she’d rebelled with had set a benchmark for all other men to come. And that each and every one of them would be found wanting.

She drank some more, felt the bubbles buzz through her veins and loosen her tongue. She even managed a less strained smile when Mahina delivered their second course.

‘I presume that three-month vacation included your stop in Palermo?’ he asked when they were alone again.

With the unburdening of her past came an unexpected increase in appetite. Or it could’ve been the alcohol.

Shrugging inwardly, Maisie tucked into the grilled mahi mahi and gave an appreciative moan. ‘Yes. I’d always been fascinated with all things Italian.’ She paused, glanced at him and saw the mildly mocking brow he lifted in her direction. Flushing, she returned her attention to her plate. ‘I had some money saved from when I worked part-time at uni, and toured the whole of Italy. Palermo was my third stop.’

‘And did your relationship improve once you resumed your career?’ he asked. His questions weren’t prying, as she supposed hers had been. He seemed to be interested in her life, her past, and not just as a means of passing time at the dinner table.

So she found herself recounting the one painful event in her life she’d sworn never to revisit again. ‘Not once they found out I was pregnant by a man whose last name I didn’t even know. Both my mother and father came from broken homes. They were estranged from their parents by the time I grew up. I know they hadn’t planned on getting married, but they did because my mother fell pregnant with me. When I in turn got pregnant, the confirmation that the apple truly didn’t fall far from the tree was too much for them to stomach.’ The words fell from her lips in sharp bursts, the pain she’d smothered away in her heart rising to stab her once again.

She chanced a glance at Romeo and saw that he had frozen, his face a taut, forbidding mask.

‘So they severed ties with you?’ he asked in a chilling voice.

‘Not exactly. But they had views on how to bring up Lucca that I didn’t welcome.’

‘What views?’

‘They wanted me to put him in the care of nannies to start, and then boarding school when he was four—’

Romeo’s curse stemmed the flow of her narrative. ‘So he wouldn’t get in the way of your career?’ he bit out.

‘Yes,’ she replied, her throat painful with the admission that no matter what she achieved, she wouldn’t be worthy in her parents’ eyes.

His breath hissed out in pure rage. ‘Madonna mia,’ he sliced out, his nostrils flaring as he struggled to control himself. ‘Did you consider it?’ he asked with a narrow-eyed stare.

‘No. I gave up my job, enrolled in a gourmet cooking course, then moved to Ranelagh to open the restaurant.’

A morose silence fell over the table, their half-eaten meal growing cold as the sharp cries of cicadas pierced the night.

‘This wasn’t how I planned this evening unfolding,’ Romeo said several minutes later after he’d refilled her glass.

Maisie laughed self-deprecatingly, that buzz in her veins somehow making the pain throbbing in her chest sharper. She was sure it was light-headedness that made her enquire breezily, ‘So how had you planned this evening going, then?’

He didn’t answer for a long time. Then he stood, tall, imposing, breathtaking. ‘Come, we’ll walk on the beach for a while.’ He grabbed his glass and the half-finished bottle in one hand and held out his other. ‘Let the night air wash away unpalatable memories.’

Maisie knew she ought to refuse, that the alcohol swirling through her bloodstream would inhibit any rational decisions she needed to make.

And yet she found herself sliding her hand into his, rising to her feet and discarding her shoes when he instructed her to.

The walk to the beach was lazy, the sultry night air and soft ukulele-threaded music emerging from hidden speakers seeming to slow everything down to a heavy, sensual, irresistible tempo.

He let go of her hand when they reached the sand, filled their glasses with the last of the champagne, then walked a few feet away to dispose of the bottle.

Toes curling in the warm sand, she strolled to the water’s edge, laughing softly when the cool water splashed over her feet.

For a single moment, Maisie dared to wonder how it would be to be in this place with the man of her dreams under different circumstances; if she’d been on a real honeymoon, not a desperate attempt to thwart a wizened old thug’s threats.

The path her parents had set her on as a child hadn’t left much room for dreaming. She’d been too busy trying to earn their love, to make herself worthy of their acceptance, to entertain such flights of fancy.

But she was a grown woman now, and surely there was nothing wrong with letting her imagination run wild for a few minutes, in letting her senses be overwhelmed by this beautiful place, this breathtaking man beside her?

She drained her second glass and didn’t protest when Romeo took it away, then returned to stand behind her. Her breath shuddered out when he slid his hands over her shoulders and started a gentle massage of the tension-knotted muscles.

‘What are you doing, Romeo?’ she asked shakily after several minutes, when she started to melt beneath the warm kneading.

‘You’re tense. Why?’

‘Probably because you’re touching me.’

‘You were tense before I touched you. Did I do something to make you this way?’

She released a single bark of laughter. ‘The whole world doesn’t revolve around you, Romeo.’

‘Perhaps not, but if there’s a problem going on with you it needs to be addressed, do you not agree?’ He turned her around, looked into her face and frowned. ‘Are you bored? Do you require more challenges?’

‘No, I’m finding the lessons with Chef Sylvain illuminating and Mahina is teaching me a few Tongan recipes that will come in handy when I return to Ranelagh.’

His mouth compressed but he nodded. ‘But you’re not happy. Don’t deny it.’