Page 10 of One More Sleepless Night

A muscle started hammering in his jaw and she thought she heard him grit his teeth. ‘Sounds great,’ he muttered.

‘It was,’ she said, briefly wondering if his obvious displeasure was down to her hogging of his pool. ‘Do you mind?’

‘About what?’

‘Me monopolising your pool.’

‘Not at all,’ he said, lifting his gaze back to hers and giving her a tight smile. ‘Make yourself at home.’

‘Thank you,’ she said, and, unable to fathom what the inscrutability of his demeanour was about, decided to continue with the small talk he’d initiated before any more of that weird uncomfortable tension had the chance to return. ‘And how has your day been?’

Rafael rubbed the back of his neck, let out what sounded like a deeply exasperated sigh and sat back. ‘Fruitful.’

‘In the literal or metaphorical sense?’

‘Both.’

‘How come?’

‘I spent the whole day with my estate manager discussing plans for an early harvest.’

‘I imagine you must have had a lot to catch up on.’

Rafael arched a quizzical eyebrow. ‘Why would you imagine that?’

‘Gaby said you haven’t been here for months.’

‘I haven’t.’

‘Why not?’ It seemed a shame when the place was a little slice of heaven on earth.

‘I’ve been busy with work.’

‘And now you’re less busy?’

‘For the mo

ment.’

‘So you’re on holiday too?’

The minute the words were out of her mouth Nicky wished she hadn’t brought up the subject of holidays, because as Rafael fixed her with that startling green gaze of his and leaned forwards she had the feeling that she might be about to regret it.

‘I suppose I am,’ he said. ‘And talking of holidays…’ He paused and she automatically tensed because judging by the probingly intense way he was looking at her there was no ‘might’ about it. ‘Tell me more about yours.’

‘What about it?’ she asked and inwardly winced at her faintly prickly tone.

‘You’re here by yourself.’

‘Evidently.’

‘And indefinitely.’

‘Is that so surprising?’ Her fingers tightened around the stem of her wine glass as she wondered where he was planning to go with this.

He tilted his head and regarded her for a second. ‘I suppose not, but don’t you have work to get back to?’

She forced herself to relax before her defensive air piqued his evident interest in the reasons for her ‘holiday’ even more. ‘Not right now,’ she said, deliberately breezily. ‘I’m freelance.’

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