Page 221 of Modern Romance Collection December 2024 Books 5-8

Was that why she had got under his skin and into his dreams? That was certainly a first for him, this feeling of wanting more. He had never wanted to be the kind of man who could be controlled by his desires, because that would take him dangerously close to becoming like his father.

But despite this arrangement supposedly being on his terms, Sydney seemed to be full of ways to make him question who he was and what he wanted.

The trouble was he knew what he wanted.

He felt his legs slow beneath him.

It was strange to admit it, given that he’d had any number of sexual partners since he’d lost his virginity in high school, but he had forgotten how pleasurable sex could be. For as long as he could remember, sex had been about satisfying a physical need.

And yet here he was, up at dawn after a night spent feverishly stripping Sydney in his dreams, his body hard and aching and jangling with a need that he couldn’t still or stifle, and it felt very personal.

But that would change today, he realised with a rush of relief. The regatta was always rammed. They would be surrounded by people and after the regatta there was lunch and then cocktails and dinner so, basically, the opposite of personal.

Looking down at his watch, he stopped and reset the timer. If he ran fast enough, he would still have time to lap the island and shower before they had to leave. It would be cutting it fine but that was what he did, who he was. He didn’t just meet, he welcomed a challenge, and, starting the timer again, he began to run.

Shifting back against the leather upholstery, Tiger gazed at the brilliant, saturated blue water as Angelo guided the speedboat across the waves. The lagoon had its own unique character. It was part of the Adriatic and yet it was separated from the vast expanse of sea, protected by seawalls and the prayers of the population. To him, it felt like an oasis, and Sydney clearly thought so too.

He let his gaze drift over to where she was looking across the water, transfixed almost.

‘Are you okay? I can get Angelo to slow down.’

She turned, her forehead creasing above her nose. ‘Why would he do that?’

‘I thought you might be feeling sick. You didn’t eat much at breakfast.’

Her eyes found his, startled, the soft brown irises huge in the sunlight. ‘No, I’m fine. I was—’ She gave him a small, stiff smile. ‘Iama bit nervous, but I don’t feel sick.’

‘Don’t be nervous. You’ve got this.’ His eyes moved over her face then dropped to her short-sleeved silk shirt in wide horizontal stripes of sky blue and white and the pleated blue skirt she was wearing. She had put her hair up in some kind of soft, muddled updo and the whole effect was very pretty, very sexy.

‘So stop worrying and enjoy the view.’

He watched her head turn. Her lips parted.

‘Welcome to Venice,’ he said softly.

Her smile snagged at his senses. ‘I couldn’t really see it properly when we arrived because it was dark.’ In the sunlight, she looked excited, her nerves forgotten. ‘It doesn’t look real. It looks like a mirage.’

‘I know what you mean. But we’re still some way out. Up close, it will all feel a lot more real.’

Tiger was right, Sydney thought as they made their way through the palazzo to the balcony where they would be watching the races. There were a lot of people. More people than she had ever seen in one place and the noise and the energy felt in-your-face real.

As they walked towards the sponsors’ balcony, Tiger was welcomed like a returning monarch, fresh from a victorious battle, although, so far, he hadn’t introduced her to anyone. Not that it mattered. He was the one they wanted to get close to, and it seemed as if everybody wanted to greet him and, although she had been telling the truth when she said that she didn’t feel sick, she felt dazed by this sudden reminder that he was a big deal. The main event.

He looked the part, all golden eyes and tanned skin and yet another suit that fitted every curve and angle of his body. She wasn’t the only one to notice either. Women watched him like hawks. Except that made him sound as though he were a rabbit or a mouse, and he was neither. He was a tiger.

‘Tiger, how are you? I thought I heard screaming.’ A dark-haired man wearing an artfully crumpled linen suit grabbed Tiger by the arm and pumped his hand enthusiastically. ‘I heard you were a sponsor this year. Thought I might see you here for the film festival. Lot of beautiful women—’

He glanced at Sydney as if seeing her for the first time, his eyes narrowing appreciatively. ‘But I see you’re already covered in that department. Scotty Aldridge, and you are?’

‘Heading out to watch the races. Gotta watch my team,’ Tiger said smoothly, cupping Sydney’s elbow in his hand and sidestepping her past Scotty Aldridge as he leaned forward.

‘Is there a problem?’

Tiger frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You haven’t introduced me to anyone. I might as well not be here.’ It shouldn’t matter. This wasn’t real. He wasn’t her ‘boyfriend’, but he had been off with her.

She glanced down at her blouse and skirt. ‘Is it what I’m wearing? Do you not like it?’

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