Page 54 of Booked for Summer

‘Maybe.’ With a gentle touch she hadn’t thought him capable of, he brought her elbow towards the warm flowing water. ‘I can wash my own flipping arm,’ she grouched, trying to pull away. ‘Amazingly, I’ve been doing it since I was three.’

Ignoring her, he kept her arm in his gentle grip and began to carefully wipe at the crusted blood with some kitchen roll.

His body seemed to surround her, caging her in, so all she could think, smell and feel, was him. His coiled strength, the expensive sandalwood cologne he wore, his?—

‘Oh my God, are you really hard right now?’

‘I’m touching you.’ The rough timbre of his voice resonated through her. ‘Of course I’m hard.’ She tried to squirm away from him but his hips pressed against her, his body remaining locked around her. ‘Ignore it. I’m here to take care of you, not fuck you.’

The gravelly words, the insistent, pulsing heat of him, all caused arousal to pool between her thighs. ‘You’re kind of hard to ignore,’ she grumbled.

‘Now you know how I feel.’ Surprised, she turned and caught his eye again. This time there was no amusement. If anything, he looked annoyed. ‘Don’t look at me like this is news to you.’

She was saved having to reply when he turned off the tap and scooped her into his arms, placing her on the sofa like she was something delicate, breakable. To her astonishment, he knelt on the floor and began untying her trainers.

‘Jeepers creepers, stop.’ She jerked her foot away. ‘I can do that.’

He sighed. ‘Why are you turning this into a battle?’

‘Because I’m still cross with you. Because you’re my boss and this isn’t appropriate. Because I’m not comfortable with guys handling my smelly feet.’

Because I’m going to fall for you if you keep showing me these sensitive, caring sides to you.

His hands settled on her foot, clasping it gently. ‘It’s your day off, I’m not your boss today. And I remember you having no qualms about me handling your feet when we were on the boat. In fact, you were happy to put them on my shoulders, to dig them into my ass?—’

‘Stop it.’

He must have read the mess of emotions on her face because he closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. When he opened them again, his expression was full of apology. ‘Sorry.’ He swallowed, staring down at where his fingers wrapped tenderly around her ankle. ‘I just want to make things right between us. I didn’t like what you said, about me turning into a rich arrogant prick. And I didn’t like the fact you were siding with people who don’t like me.’ He lifted his gaze to hers. ‘But by reacting like I did, I proved you were right with both.’

The anger she wanted to feel, sheneededto feel, fizzled out. ‘You’re not arrogant. But I do think you’re so focused on money, on seeing some people here as your enemy, that you don’t see the bigger picture.’ She bit her lip. ‘Philip said your mum left when you were small.’

‘Had a good time gossiping about me, did you?’

‘Wetalkedabout you.’ Annoyed, she tried to pull her foot away again but he held firm.

With tension cracking through the air, he began to slowly undo her trainer. Realising he needed to do this to make up for what he saw as him knocking her off the bike, she gave in and let him. His fingers were gentle as they twisted the ankle, checking how far she could move it before she winced. Clearly satisfied it was as she’d described, a slight twist, he pulled the coffee table closer, placed a cushion on it and then shifted her ankle onto it.

Still, without speaking, he walked over to the fridge and dug into the small freezer compartment to find the peas. Once he’d wrapped them in a tea towel, he pressed them onto her ankle.

And finally he began to talk.

‘I was an unplanned pregnancy for my twenty-two-year-old mom. The guy she had an affair with paid her off. She took half the money and fled, leaving her mom, my grandma, to bring me up.’ His eyes met hers, searching, as if trying to judge her reaction. ‘Don’t you dare feel sorry for me, because she’s the best person I know. She was a cleaner; my pop, a fisherman who died far too early. Instead of using the other half of the money to have a comfortable life, she used it to send me to a prestigious boarding school near Boston, thinking she was doing the best for me.’

It was the shadows in his eyes, the edge to his voice. ‘But?’

‘But she hadn’t factored in how cruel some rich kids could be. Especially when they came across a poor kid with zero connections.’ He gave a shrug of his powerful shoulders. ‘In the end I gave up trying to make friends. It was easier to keep myself to myself.’

Her heart tumbled in her chest. ‘That’s awful.’ Unconsciously, her gaze shot to his eyebrow, the one with the scar.

He gave her a wry smile. ‘One of many skirmishes. I won some, this one I lost. Again, don’t waste your time pitying me. If anything, they did me a favour. I learnt to rely on myself and only myself. Thanks to them, I put all my energy and focus into my studies, determined to make something of myself.’ He looked down at her ankle, at where his fingers gently smoothed across her skin. ‘Adam, and others like him who went to the same school, are part of the old wealth on the island. I’m the worst combination– new wealth. They hate that I made it by purchasing part of the harbourfront instead of inheriting a ready-made business. They hate that I flash my wealth around by buying land to build my own house in the same area they’re living in their big inherited houses.’ His jaw hardened. ‘They consider me vulgar, and they pollute the minds of others to their way of thinking.’

When he raised his eyes to hers, she felt another hard tug on her heart. ‘I don’t listen to other people’s opinions. I make up my own mind.’

He nodded, and rose to his feet. ‘I haven’t told anyone what I’ve just told you. Not even my grandma. How could I tell the woman who thought she was giving me the best start in life, that I was miserable?’

‘Why did you tell me?’

He paused a moment, eyes holding hers captive. ‘When it comes to you, a lifelong habit of keeping my distance seems to fly out of the window.’

---