Page 26 of One Forbidden Night In Paradise (Hot Winter Escapes)

How had she got Chase so wrong?

Because he led you to believe he was something he wasn’t.Her shoulders bowed a little as Holly’s voice popped into her head.

And you didn’t ask him the right questions, Ed chimed in.You never do because if you did, you couldn’t in all conscience date most of the idiots you end up with.

That’s not fair, she countered angrily.You were the ones telling me to let my hair down. So I did, I had a one-night stand. Surely the point of casual sex is that it’s casual. You don’t need or want to know anything.

And she hadn’t: not even his surname.

Exactly.She could practically see Holly rolling her eyes.And nothing’s changed. He’s still a one-night stand. He just happens to be a one-night stand who owns an island and a yacht.

And an amphibious plane, Ed added.Which is awesome, by the way, but doesn’t alter the fact that you’re on holiday and this is about having fun, remember?

I am having fun, she protested.

But Holly and Ed had disappeared, probably in disgust that she had travelled thousands of miles simply to miss the point.

‘You can use this room.’ Chase swung open a door. ‘I’ll get someone to bring you a wetsuit and you can get changed.’ Stepping into the cabin, she nodded mutely. The decor was similar to the interior of the house. There was rattan furniture, pale walls and eau-de-nil furnishings and all of it hinted at a scale of wealth where money was no object.

‘Is everything okay?’

Chase’s voice, cool and deep like the ocean, made her turn round. ‘Yes.’ She nodded. ‘But what was the name of your insurance company again?’

He hadn’t told her, and she knew from the tiny pause before he answered that he was trying to work something out in his head before he did. ‘Monmouth Rock,’ he said at last.

She stared at him, her heart jumping in her throat. She knew next to nothing about insurance, but there couldn’t be many people on the planet who didn’t know that name. She could even picture the logo: the towering dark rock rising out of the foam-topped waves. It was on the front of that football shirt she had bought for her brother’s birthday.

‘You own Monmouth Rock.’

It was a statement, not a question, but he nodded anyway.

‘I’m the majority shareholder.’ His green eyes were opaque, impossible to read. Gazing up at him, she felt the jumble of pieces inside her head that hadn’t seemed to fit together suddenly slotting together to make a picture. Chase Farrar was one of the super-rich, those mythical creatures for whom ordinary problems like paying the mortgage were mere pinpricks.

And what about pleasure?

Her skin felt suddenly hot and tight. If you could do anything, go anywhere; if nothing was beyond your reach then no doubt ordinary pleasures would seem just that. Ordinary. Dull. Uninspiring.

No wonder he was here chasing treasure.

‘I see.’

His shoulders shifted. ‘It didn’t seem important when we met.’ He meant important enough to share with someone he was simply having sex with. And he was right, she thought, mentally listing the many things she could have told Chase, but had chosen not to, for exactly the same reason.

‘I suppose not.’

He stared at her for a few seconds, his green gaze burning into hers, and she held her breath, aware that they were alone, and terrified suddenly that he would want something in return. A kiss, a secret.

You show me yours... I show you mine...

‘Come up on deck when you’re ready,’ he said curtly and then he turned and stalked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

As promised, one of the crew members brought her a wetsuit, and she stripped down to her bikini. The wetsuit fitted like a glove, as it should, and she felt another flicker of excitement as she made her way to the deck.

Five people were already suited up, including Chase. As he walked towards her with that familiar lazy, dangerous ease she felt her stomach quiver. That five-millimetre neoprene was hugging his body in all the right places.

‘It’s a good fit,’ he said, his gaze moving critically over her in a way that made the wetsuit feel as if it were dissolving into her skin.

‘Okay then, time to swap onto the dive boat.’

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