by Andie Brock
‘No, not as such.’ She turned away and started to wade out of the pool. Her foot was on the first shallow step when she felt Jaco’s hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him again.
‘Then why would you put yourself in danger like that?’
‘I wasn’t in danger.’ Leah gave a contemptuous laugh. ‘I would have been perfectly all right.’ She shrugged his hands off her.
‘Like hell you would.’
‘If it boosts your massive male ego to come plunging in here, thinking you’re rescuing a damsel in distress, then by all means go ahead.’ She desperately tried to claw back some composure. ‘But the fact is I could have coped perfectly well by myself.’
‘Ha!’ Jaco shook his head, glittering droplets of water flying from his hair, incredulity in his scowl. ‘You are something else, Leah McDonald. You know that?’
But, as dismissive as his words were, irritation setting his jaw tight, his eyes were telling a different tale. Drawn to her semi-naked body, they seemed to travel rapidly over every inch of damp skin. Leah’s stomach flipped beneath his blatant scrutiny, her nipples hardening as he lingered on the swell of her breasts before he finally raised his eyes to her face. With nowhere to hide, she could only glare back at him, heat flaring across her cheeks as she hastily adjusted the fit of her bikini top.
It was far too small—she knew that. Since having Gabriel, her modest breasts had swollen dramatically—something she hadn’t fully realised until she’d looked down at herself now, at the bikini that had fitted fine when she’d bought it a couple of years ago, now struggling to contain her new shape.
Something that Jaco had clearly noticed too, judging by the very male gleam in his eye. She saw him swallow, turn his head away for a moment, then look back.
‘You know what? I wasn’t exactly expecting profuse declarations of your undying gratitude, but a simple thank-you might have been nice.’ He fixed her with a lingering stare. ‘Do I not even deserve that?’
‘Very well.’
Leah pushed back her shoulders, clearing her throat. She would say anything if it meant she could get away from him. Away from the torment of his glorious body. From the way he was looking at her, making her feel.
‘Thank you.’ She pouted at him. ‘There—is that good enough?’
‘Not really, no.’ Jaco’s eyes glittered dangerously. ‘I can see I’m going to have to extract my own reward.’
With a flash of bronzed muscle he breached the small space between them, towering over her, blocking out the sun. And as his hands came to cradle her head, his fingers working their way through her dripping tresses, Leah froze, all breath extinguished and her lungs gripped by the same primal need that kept her rooted to the spot.
His head lowered and suddenly his mouth was on hers, his lips so silkily seductive that it was all she could do to stifle a whimper of longing. She had wanted this for so long—dreamed about it, railed against it, but had never, ever been able to ignore it. And suddenly she was returning the kiss, as if on some destructive automatic pilot, her whole body succumbing to the erotic sensations that his expert skills so easily aroused.
Moving his hands around her back, he pulled her closer to him, crushing her cold, damp breasts against the broad expanse of his chest, the slick of moisture sealing them together. As he caught the tip of her tongue with his, Leah responded, and the kiss grew more fervent, more passionate with every highly charged second. Such was his expertise, his sensual masculine power, the sheer perfection of him, that her senses were ripped apart, lost in the mad thunder of her heart.
Jaco slid his hands over Leah’s wet skin, running them down her sides until they stopped at the curve of her waist, where they possessively spanned her midriff. Dio, this kiss felt so good. She felt so good. Holding her tight against him like this, he was at a loss to remember why she was so forbidden, why he couldn’t just sweep her up into his arms, march straight back into the villa and make mad, passionate love to her.
He wanted her so badly it hurt. And not just in his groin, where the force of his erection pressed painfully against his boxers. His whole body thrummed for her, as if he had been struck with a tuning fork and the resonations had spread to every cell within him.
The thumb of his left hand felt the ridge of Leah’s scar, and he softly traced the length of it, feeling Leah flinch beneath his touch. He knew she was self-conscious about the diagonal slash that ran south from her hip bone—the result of her kidney transplant operation. The first time they had been naked together she had tried to hide it, draping the sheet around her, but Jaco had gently removed it, wanting to see all of her, to learn everything her body had to tell him. In his eyes the scar was part of who she was, and it only made her more beautiful.
He shifted his position, breaking the kiss to alter his stance, as if that might somehow bring him to his senses. But it did no such thing. He pulled back far enough to look into the swirling depths of her tawny eyes, and what he saw there only served to throw more fuel on the blazing fire. There was wariness, a drugged sort of surprise, and there was something else—a deep, dark intensity that held all the promise and wonder of what might happen, what might be, if they let it. It was more than enough to tip him over the edge.
He lowered his head to cover her soft pink lips again, to lose himself in more of the heady pleasure of her mouth. His hands strayed over her behind, the skimpy fabric that barely covered her rounded buttocks clammy beneath his touch, sticking to her skin.
His breath hitched into the kiss. Leah had always had a fantastic body, model-slim, with legs that went on for ever. But now that body had taken on a new dimension, with soft curves replacing taut lines, the jut of her hips cushioned against his swollen groin and her breasts so plump, so full, that he longed to see them naked so he could fully admire their new, seductive shape. To see all of her naked, in fact. Because if Leah had been lithely sexy before—now she was irresistibly, off-the-scale, scorching hot.
Her arms had circled his neck and her fingers were laced, holding him firmly to her. It was all the encouragement Jaco needed. Moulding the hard planes of his chest against the cool, damp smoothness of her body, he reached for the knot of her bikini behind her back.
A distant moan permeated his consciousness. Was that Leah, or some guttural noise he had unwittingly made himself? He felt Leah start to move beneath the ring of his arms and reluctantly loosened his grip, realising that the sound was coming from neither of them, but from the baby monitor by the side of the pool.
Putting her hands against his chest, Leah pushed herself back, quickly looking down to check that her bikini was still intact.
Their eyes met briefly, Leah adopting a murderous scowl that was too little, too late. She had already given herself away. Jaco dropped his arms to set her free. But he refused to free her from the frenzied pull of desire between them. If he had to acknowledge the power of it, then so did she.
A highly charged second flashed between them before Leah turned away, hurrying back towards the villa as if her heels were on fire. Jaco stared after her, the sashay of that pert little derriere doing little to cool the blood that was still pumping manically through his veins.
The volume of noise coming from the monitor had ramped up considerably now, building to a full-blown throaty yell by the time Jaco had walked around the pool to pick it up and see a string of red lights flashing across the top. His son had a good pair of lungs.
Carrying it back towards the villa, he suddenly heard Leah’s voice coming through, soft and reassuring, and the crying subsiding to a couple of snuffly grunts. Jaco stood where he was, listening to Leah’s sing-song tone. There was something oddly compelling about eavesdropping on the tender exchange. But unsettling too. Because it made him feel like an outsider—as if he would never be able to achieve even a fraction of the close and loving relationship that Leah and his son obviously already had.
Switching the mon
itor off, he strode into the cool of the villa and carelessly tossed it onto the nearest surface. When the time was right he would work out how to form a bond with his child. The enormity of being a father had yet to fully sink in, but the idea was slowly growing on him. Right now, however, he had too many other things on his mind. D-day was fast approaching. He had to keep his focus.
Going into the kitchen, he went over to the fridge to pour himself a glass of iced water. As the ice cubes rattled down he picked one out and ran it over his lips to cool their raging heat. Looking down at himself, he realised he’d need to sit in a bathtub full of the stuff the way he was going on.
He raked back his hair, silently growling with irritation. The riotous way his body had reacted to the sight of Leah’s bikini-clad form was a distraction he could well do without. He was going to have to get that under control, and fast, or the next couple of weeks were going to get very complicated indeed.
CHAPTER FIVE
SITTING DOWN ON the rugged stone step, Leah cupped her chin in her hands and stared at the view. In the distance, framed by an azure sky and a deep blue sea, she could make out the shapes of two small islands, one further away than the other, both hazy against the sky and fringed with a white ring of surf.
Jaco might have refused to tell her exactly where they were, but Leah had worked it out for herself. On her first trip to Capezzana he had mentioned a string of volcanic islands that he owned off the north coast of Sicily, and how he would love to show them to her one day. He had probably forgotten he’d ever told her but, totally mesmerised by the enigmatic Sicilian, Leah had stored away every bit of information she had managed to glean from him.
As she gazed around her now, at the dark soil, the profusion of succulents and cacti, the exotic colourful flowers that thrived in these fertile conditions, she knew this had to be where she was.
Not that the information was of much use to her. Short of putting a message in a bottle, she had no idea how to let anyone know of her plight. It wasn’t as if she could swim to the nearest island. Anyway, it was probably uninhabited, or also owned by Jaco, or both. No, much as she had tried to fight against it, with every furious fibre of her being, she had to accept that she and Gabriel were prisoners here until such time as Jaco saw fit to set them free. Presumably when this hateful business deal had been concluded.
Giving a heavy sigh of frustration, she leant over to pick a bright purple flower, spinning it between her fingers before absently tucking it behind her ear. They had been holed up here for over a week now and, far from lessening, the pressure of being held prisoner was growing worse with every passing day.
The secrets that Jaco was so intent on withholding loomed larger in her head the more time she had to think about them. Because in Leah’s experience, secrets were only there to cover up lies—the sort of lies that could hurt you...badly. Scarred for life by her first attempt at a relationship, she could hardly believe she had done it again—fallen for a scheming, lying cheat. Only this time the drop had been a thousand miles deeper, a thousand times harder.
These were the thoughts that had haunted her for the past nine days and nights, accompanied at all times by the forbiddingly dark and brooding spectre of Jaco Valentino.
Somehow he managed to be both everywhere she looked and yet never actually sharing the same space. His formidable presence filled the air, putting Leah’s fragile senses on high alert, whilst actually having very little engagement with her. In fact, since that kiss by the pool on the first day he seemed to have gone out of his way to avoid her.
That kiss.
The memory of it still shivered through her body. They had been apart for so long, and so much had happened, that Leah had genuinely forgotten the overwhelming power of it—the sheer, wondrous bliss of being kissed by him. She knew she should never have surrendered to it the way she had, that her body had betrayed her in the most blatant way, but how on earth was she supposed to resist? How could any girl not fall under his spell when subjected to such a gloriously erotic onslaught? Much as she told herself that she had to be strong, that she could resist him, would resist him, the fact was Jaco could still set her on fire with nothing more than a slumberous glance from those hypnotic brown eyes.
So it was just as well that he was keeping his distance. The more he kept out of her way the better. She didn’t want anything to do him—especially now she’d discovered that being a two-timing cheat was only one of his crimes. That he had a dark side that struck fear into her very soul.
She would just have to try to bide her time and survive the next few days, and then get as far away from him as she possibly could. Whatever else, she had to control her body’s extreme reaction to him. Stop it from betraying her.
But how? That was the question. How did she stop her heart from banging in her chest whenever he walked into the room? Or leaping to her throat when he spoke to her? How was she supposed to react to the sight of his bronzed body, frequently stripped to the waist, as he wandered around the villa or strolled along the side of the pool, scooping up fallen leaves. Everything about his lithe movements, the flex of his muscles, the gleam of the sun on his dark curls—even the sound of his footsteps—sent her into a spin of craving and confusion that she had no command over at all.
Getting to her feet, Leah headed back up the steps towards the villa. She never liked to stray too far from Gabriel, even when he had just been fed and settled and she knew he would sleep for at least an hour. The idea that there were people out there who might want to harm her baby son because of Jaco’s corrupt business deals still made her feel sick. As did the fact that Jaco was the sort of man who would get involved with such people—worse still, was probably one of them himself.
But strangely—and this she didn’t even understand herself—Jaco also made her feel safe. Deep down she knew that no harm would ever come to Gabriel while he was under Jaco’s protection. Such was his authority, his total dominance, that she had no doubt he would have everything covered—every potential danger would have been anticipated and dealt with. Which, she supposed, explained why she and Gabriel were holed up here.
The villa was quiet when she stepped inside, her eyes taking a moment to adjust from the bright sunshine. She’d started towards the kitchen with the idea of making herself some coffee when something made her change her mind and she turned back towards her bedroom. Her heart stopped. The door to her room was wide open, yet she knew she had pulled it almost closed when she had left.
Adrenaline surged through her, speeding her silently forward until she reached the doorway, where she came to a sudden halt. There, standing with his back to her, looking down into the crib, was Jaco. Leah paused, waiting for her breath to steady.
She assumed he must have heard her approach—indeed that he would be able to hear the way her heart was banging with alarm. But as the seconds ticked by and he showed no sign of acknowledging her presence she realised she must be mistaken. He appeared to be so intent on studying the contents of the crib that he hadn’t noticed her arrival at all.
Leah moved slightly to the side of the doorway so that she could observe the scene less obviously. She could hear Gabriel stirring now, recognised the shuffling sound of his legs kicking against the sheet before his little arms appeared, waving around with determined purpose. She watched as Jaco leant forward, her curiosity overriding her natural instinct to rush in and scoop Gabriel up herself.
‘Ciao, piccolo uomo.’ The words were softly uttered under Jaco’s breath. Hello, little man.
Leah stared, spellbound, as Jaco tentatively held out a finger and Gabriel made a grab for it, grasping it in his fist.
‘That’s right.’
Leah could hear the smile in Jaco’s hushed voice.
‘I am your papà. Pleased to meet you.’ He reached forward with his free hand to stroke Gabriel’s curls lightly.
From her covert position, Leah watched, her
breath hitched with surprise. Up until now Jaco hadn’t shown the slightest interest in his son.
‘Va bene.’ Jaco rolled back his shoulders, almost as if he was having to psyche himself up. ‘Let’s pick you up, shall we?’
He paused for a second, before finally grasping Gabriel under the arms and lifting him carefully out of the crib.
‘There we are.’ He held him cautiously at arm’s length, slowly turning him first one way and then the other, as if considering him from every angle. Front-facing again, Gabriel stared back at him, unblinking. ‘You are a fine little fellow, aren’t you?’
In response Gabriel started to kick his legs beneath him, but his eyes never left his father’s face.
Jaco smiled at him. ‘And lively too.’
Carefully transferring Gabriel to the crook of his arm, Jaco wrapped his arms around him so that he was nestled against his chest. ‘There—how’s that?’
Neither of them looked one hundred per cent comfortable. Jaco’s biceps were bunched way too hard for Gabriel’s weight, making a pillow of stone to support his head. And his arms were wrapped so tightly around and under Gabriel that corded veins showed beneath his tanned skin. But, surprisingly, Gabriel made no move to escape. Apart from one leg, which he had kicked free to dangle over Jaco’s arm, he seemed content to snuggle there, looking up at his father with something bordering on adoration in his eyes.
Leah sucked in a silent breath. She hadn’t expected this—this visceral, deep-rooted response to the sight of her son in his father’s arms. She couldn’t explain what it was, knew only that it had weakened her bones, that if it hadn’t been for the door frame she feared she might have slid to the ground. But still she couldn’t stop staring at the two of them, mesmerised by the sight of their skin-to-skin contact, Gabriel’s pale softness against Jaco’s dark strength. Despite the awkwardness they looked right together—bonded. Almost as if this moment had been preordained.
Which was stupid.
