anything he could threaten her with … and that thought made bile rise from his gut.
Luc realised that he couldn’t hear the sound of water splashing any more and paced back to the balcony. The light was falling now, and dusk was bathing the island in a mauve glow. Jesse suddenly appeared from the trees, rubbing her hair with a towel, once again in that short robe. Luc instinctively ducked back into the shadows, but as if she sensed his eyes on her her head came up sharply, and she looked up in the direction of his room.
Luc saw the tension in her frame, in the way her hand tightened on the towel. Her hair was sticking up in little tufts on her head, and he had the sudden urge to curl his hand around the delicate stem of her neck and …
throttle her
, he told himself angrily, watching as she ducked her head and hurried out of view again.
He cursed himself volubly and denied with every breath in his body that for a moment he’d wanted to be standing in front of her, so he could bring her head closer and tip it up so that he could taste just how soft her lips were.
Luc went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He stripped and stood under the pounding spray. With fists clenched he placed his hands on the tiled walls, his whole body taut with anger, tension … and something much more insidious.
He had no option but to ensure he got off this island before the ten days were up, and he would do whatever it took to achieve that outcome. But, short of torturing Jesse Moriarty to force her to hand over her phone or to communicate with the outside world for him, Luc couldn’t see a solution.
And then it came to him—sneaking into his consciousness with a wicked wink. He’d seen the tiny telltale physicalresponse Jesse had shown to his proximity earlier. It could have been just nerves … or it could have been something else.
A form of torture might not be so beyond the realms of possibility after all—but this would be a very
sensual
form of torture. Designed to sneak past every prickly defence he’d seen so far and uncover the beating heart of the woman, and in so doing render her completely helpless to him.
Jesse was sitting in a chair at the kitchen table, having just eaten a bowl of cereal. The Kouros housekeeper had left the fridge and larder stocked to the gills,
enough for an army
, as Luc had said.
Jesse grimaced; unfortunately it would appear that the housekeeper had expected gourmands, because nothing was ready-made and she cursed that oversight now.
Jesse had to admit that unless Luc Sanchis displayed a skill for making something more complicated than a sandwich they might well starve. She couldn’t boil an egg without burning both it and the water.
She was coiled tighter than a spring, waiting for some sign of Luc Sanchis, figuring he’d have to eat again at some stage. He was a big man, and unlikely to find enough nourishment in a sandwich. But to her knowledge he was still in his room and hadn’t left it since he’d gone there earlier.
Hating how on edge she was, she got up to wash her things in the sink. From where she stood she could see out to where the pool house was just visible through the trees, gleaming whitely in the dusk. The calming effect of her swim earlier had lasted only until she’d looked up to Luc Sanchis’s balcony, because she’d thought she’d seen a movement, but it had only been the gently billowing curtain. Nevertheless his image had been immediate in her mind’s eye. His tall and well-built frame. Those dark, angry eyes.
She’d hurried back into the villa and straight to her room,where she’d dressed in her habitual casual uniform of jeans and a loose top. Usually she was barely aware of the clothes she wore, but as she’d pulled on the jeans she’d felt an alien sense of yearning for something
softer
.
She reflected to herself that she’d never consciously set out to favour less feminine apparel, but the fact was she didn’t own anything remotely
soft
,
Luc realised that he couldn’t hear the sound of water splashing any more and paced back to the balcony. The light was falling now, and dusk was bathing the island in a mauve glow. Jesse suddenly appeared from the trees, rubbing her hair with a towel, once again in that short robe. Luc instinctively ducked back into the shadows, but as if she sensed his eyes on her her head came up sharply, and she looked up in the direction of his room.
Luc saw the tension in her frame, in the way her hand tightened on the towel. Her hair was sticking up in little tufts on her head, and he had the sudden urge to curl his hand around the delicate stem of her neck and …
throttle her
, he told himself angrily, watching as she ducked her head and hurried out of view again.
He cursed himself volubly and denied with every breath in his body that for a moment he’d wanted to be standing in front of her, so he could bring her head closer and tip it up so that he could taste just how soft her lips were.
Luc went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He stripped and stood under the pounding spray. With fists clenched he placed his hands on the tiled walls, his whole body taut with anger, tension … and something much more insidious.
He had no option but to ensure he got off this island before the ten days were up, and he would do whatever it took to achieve that outcome. But, short of torturing Jesse Moriarty to force her to hand over her phone or to communicate with the outside world for him, Luc couldn’t see a solution.
And then it came to him—sneaking into his consciousness with a wicked wink. He’d seen the tiny telltale physicalresponse Jesse had shown to his proximity earlier. It could have been just nerves … or it could have been something else.
A form of torture might not be so beyond the realms of possibility after all—but this would be a very
sensual
form of torture. Designed to sneak past every prickly defence he’d seen so far and uncover the beating heart of the woman, and in so doing render her completely helpless to him.
Jesse was sitting in a chair at the kitchen table, having just eaten a bowl of cereal. The Kouros housekeeper had left the fridge and larder stocked to the gills,
enough for an army
, as Luc had said.
Jesse grimaced; unfortunately it would appear that the housekeeper had expected gourmands, because nothing was ready-made and she cursed that oversight now.
Jesse had to admit that unless Luc Sanchis displayed a skill for making something more complicated than a sandwich they might well starve. She couldn’t boil an egg without burning both it and the water.
She was coiled tighter than a spring, waiting for some sign of Luc Sanchis, figuring he’d have to eat again at some stage. He was a big man, and unlikely to find enough nourishment in a sandwich. But to her knowledge he was still in his room and hadn’t left it since he’d gone there earlier.
Hating how on edge she was, she got up to wash her things in the sink. From where she stood she could see out to where the pool house was just visible through the trees, gleaming whitely in the dusk. The calming effect of her swim earlier had lasted only until she’d looked up to Luc Sanchis’s balcony, because she’d thought she’d seen a movement, but it had only been the gently billowing curtain. Nevertheless his image had been immediate in her mind’s eye. His tall and well-built frame. Those dark, angry eyes.
She’d hurried back into the villa and straight to her room,where she’d dressed in her habitual casual uniform of jeans and a loose top. Usually she was barely aware of the clothes she wore, but as she’d pulled on the jeans she’d felt an alien sense of yearning for something
softer
.
She reflected to herself that she’d never consciously set out to favour less feminine apparel, but the fact was she didn’t own anything remotely
soft
,
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