Forbidden Seductions: His Forbidden Passion / Craving the Forbidden / Girls' Guide to Flirting with Danger

She wanted to say that Dominic wouldn’t want to have lunch with someone for whom he evidently had so little respect.

She wanted to suggest Jacob start making arrangements for her to return to England at the end of this week instead of next.

But over all her objections, she felt an unmistakable surge of excitement.

And how ridiculous was that?

CHAPTER TEN (#ulink_7c10bf18-58ea-54eb-a661-749e9d2e4abd)

DOMINIC lounged in his chrome and white leather chair, one arm hooked over its back, and wished the glass he was holding contained whisky.

Wine was all very well, and his grandfather was something of a connoisseur. But Dominic needed something stronger. Something to stop his eyes from straying in Cleo’s direction every chance they had.

He’d tried to concentrate on his surroundings. They were having lunch on the sundeck of the company’s yacht, shaded from too much brilliance by a huge canopy, and it was certainly a spectacular setting.

The little town of San Clemente climbed the hill behind the marina, colour-washed walls and red-tiled roofs providing a stunning backdrop to the blue, blue water.

A breeze blew up off the water, rattling the ties of the other yachts moored in the adjoining slips. It lifted the fringe of the canopy; caused a silky coil of Cleo’s hair to curl about her shoulder.

Dammit!

The trouble was, she looked so bloody attractive. She was wearing an off-the-shoulder top of some bronze-coloured fabric that hugged her breasts and outlined her hips. Knee-length shorts exposed bare calves and narrow ankles. She wore a gold chain round her ankle, drawn to his attention by provocative four-inch heels.

There were huge gold rings in her ears, too, that brushed her bare shoulders every time she moved her head. Her hair was drawn loosely back from her face and tied at her nape with a chiffon scarf. But that didn’t stop errant strands escaping and causing him no end of grief.

He swallowed the remainder of the wine in his glass and reached for the bottle of Merlot as his grandfather spoke.

‘Isn’t this nice?’ the old man said, including both of them in his sharp appraisal. ‘My two grandchildren and myself, having lunch together. What could be nicer, eh, Dom?’

‘Indeed,’ Dominic said drily, refilling his wine glass with a surprisingly steady hand. Considering the rest of his body was taut with frustration, he thought he managed it very well. ‘What could be nicer?’

Cleo cast a wary look in his direction. She had few doubts that Dominic wasn’t enjoying the meal. From the moment they’d arrived at the Montoya Corporation’s offices, she’d sensed his resistance to the outing. If there’d been any way he could have got out of joining them without offending his grandfather, she was sure he would have done so.

But, apart from the respect Dominic evidently had for the old man, Jacob was seriously ill, and his time was limited. It would have taken a more ruthless man than Dominic to deny such a simple request.

‘I hope you’re not drinking too much, boy.’ Jacob was nothing if not direct. He nodded to Dominic’s plate, where the better part of his risotto was congealing in the heat. ‘You’ve hardly touched your food.’

Dominic gave a thin smile. ‘I wasn’t hungry, old man,’ he said evenly. ‘It’s too hot for eating.’ He paused before raising his glass to his lips again. ‘Particularly when you’re wearing a suit.’

‘Then get changed!’ exclaimed Jacob at once. ‘You know I’m expecting you to give Cleo a tour of San Clemente later this afternoon.’

‘Oh, that’s not necessary—’ began Cleo hurriedly, but her grandfather ignored her.

‘Me, I’m going to have a rest.’ Jacob blew out a breath. ‘But you’re right. It is hot.’

Cleo turned her head to look at him, aware of an anxiety that was as unexpected as it was misplaced. She hardly knew him, she thought, yet she already felt concerned about him.

Dominic was concerned, too. Putting down his wine glass, he said, ‘Perhaps you ought to get Sam to take you back to Magnolia Hill.’

‘I can rest here just as well as at Magnolia Hill,’ Jacob retorted shortly. ‘Just help me down to the cabin, will you, Dom? It’ll be cooler below deck.’

Cleo chewed anxiously at her lower lip as Dominic got up and helped his grandfather from his chair. One of the crew appeared, possibly expecting to clear the table, but Jacob only waved the man away.

‘Cleo and Dom haven’t finished,’ he said, albeit a little breathlessly as his grandson supported him towards the stairs to the lower deck. ‘Bring my granddaughter some coffee, will you? I think she’d prefer that to the wine.’

By the time Dominic came back, Cleo was sipping her second cup of coffee.

Her eyes darted instantly to his dark face, the enquiry evident in her troubled gaze. ‘Is he all right?’ she asked, putting her cup down as he crossed the deck towards her. ‘The cabins are air-conditioned, aren’t they? He’ll be able to breathe more easily if the air is cooler.’

‘Yeah, he’ll be OK.’ Dominic flung himself back into his chair and regarded her with an intensity of purpose she couldn’t possibly sustain. ‘How about you?’

‘Me?’ Cleo considered picking up her cup again, if only for protection, but she was afraid she might spill its contents. ‘I’m OK.’ She glanced determinedly about her. ‘This certainly is a beautiful place.’

‘Yes, it is.’ Dominic pulled in a long breath and then went for the jugular. ‘I wondered if you’d come.’

Cleo’s eyes widened. ‘Your grandfather invited me,’ she said, and he noted she was back to saying ‘your’ grandfather and not ‘my’. ‘Besides, I wanted to see something of the island before I leave.’

Dominic’s stomach hollowed. ‘You’re leaving!’

‘In a few days, yes,’ said Cleo, concentrating on her finger nudging at her saucer. ‘I’d have thought you’d be pleased. If I’m not here, I’m not a threat, am I?’

‘A threat!’ Dominic’s tone hardened. ‘A threat to whom?’

Cleo pressed her lips together. ‘You know.’

‘What the hell’s that supposed to mean?’ Dominic stared at her, his eyes as cold as green ice. ‘If you’re implying that I might be upset if the old man decides to leave all his money to you—’

‘No!’ Cleo had to look at him now, anguish in her dark gaze. ‘I’d never think anything like that.’ She licked her lips with an agitated tongue. ‘You can’t think I want Jacob’s money! Any of it! I shouldn’t be here. I don’t belong here. I—I just want to get on with my life.’

‘This is your life now,’ stated Dominic harshly. He hated the look of horror he’d brought to her face. But she had to understand that Jacob wasn’t about to let her go, not without a whole raft of conditions. ‘And you do belong here, Cleo. As much as any of us, actually.’

‘No—’

‘Yes.’ With some relucance Dominic got up from his seat and came to take the one his grandfather had vacated beside her. ‘You’re Robert’s daughter. You can’t get away from that. Jacob won’t let you.’

Cleo blew out an unsteady breath and Dominic realised she was trembling. Tiny goosebumps had blossomed all over those pale almond shoulders, enveloping the smooth skin of her throat and puckering the rounded curve of her breasts.

And he had to touch her.

To comfort her, he defended himself. But the minute his hand contacted the fine bones of her shoulder, he wanted to do so much more.

In consequence, his voice was harsher than it should have been when he said, ‘Is the prospect of staying here so terrible?’

Cleo glanced sideways at him. ‘Not terrible, no,’ she said tensely. ‘But, please, let me go. This isn’t helping anyone.’

It’s helping me, thought Dominic unevenly, aware of his pulsing arousal.

But she was right. He was behaving like an idiot.