Love Islands: Red-Hot Sunsets. Jane Porter

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Love Islands: Red-Hot Sunsets - Jane Porter


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air like an invisible electric charge.’ He laughed with some incredulity. ‘You’re not going to believe this, but it’s something I can’t remember feeling in a very long time, if ever.’

      ‘And you think I should be flattered?’

      Lucas frowned because this wasn’t the reaction he had been expecting. ‘Frankly, yes,’ he told her with complete honesty.

      Katy gaped, even though she knew very well why a woman would be flattered to be the object of attention from Lucas Cipriani. He was drop-dead gorgeous and a billionaire to boot. If he made a pass at a woman, then what woman was going to stalk off in the opposite direction and slam the door in his face? He probably had a queue of them waiting to be picked.

      Her lips tightened because what he saw as a flattering, complimentary approach was, to her, downright insulting.

      At least the creep Duncan had had the wit to approach her a little less like a bull stampeding through a china shop.

      But then, Katy concluded sourly, time wasn’t on Lucas’s side. They were here for a limited duration, so why waste any precious time trying to seduce her into bed the old-fashioned way?

      ‘That’s the most egotistical, arrogant thing I have ever heard in my entire life!’

      ‘Because I’ve been honest?’ But Lucas flushed darkly. ‘I thought you were all in favour of the honest approach?’

      ‘Who do you think I am?’

      ‘I have no idea where you’re going with this.’

      ‘You think that you just have to snap your fingers and someone like me will dump all her principles and come running, don’t you?’

      ‘Someone like you?’ But she had scored a direct hit, and he was guiltily aware that he had indeed compartmentalised her, however much he had seen evidence to the contrary.

      ‘The sort of person,’ Katy informed him with scathing distaste, ‘Who needs a good, long lecture on making sure her little head doesn’t get turned by being on a big, expensive boat—oh, sorry, super-yacht—with the great Lucas Cipriani! The sort of person,’ she added for good measure, ‘Who comes with a dubious reputation as someone who thinks it’s okay to hop into bed with a married guy!’ It made her even madder to think that she had fallen into the trap of forgetting who he really was, won over by his charm and the random confidences he had thrown her way which she had sucked up with lamentable enthusiasm.

      And what made her even madder still was the fact that he had managed to read her so correctly! She thought she’d been the model of politeness, but he’d seen right through that and homed in laser-like on the fevered core of her that was attracted to him.

      ‘You’re over-analysing.’ Lucas raked his fingers through his hair and sprang to his feet to pace the cabin before standing by the window to look at her.

      ‘I am not over-analysing,’ Katy told him fiercely. ‘I know what you think of me.’

      ‘You don’t.’ Unaccustomed to apologising for anything he said or did, Lucas now felt...like a cad. He couldn’t credit how she had taken his interest in her and transformed it into an insult, yet he had to admit to himself that his approach had hardly been handled with finesse. He’d been clumsy, and in no one’s wildest imagination could it have passed for honesty.

      ‘I know exactly what you think of me! And you’ve got a damned cheek to imagine that I would be so easy that I’d just fall into bed with you because you happened to extend the invite.’

      ‘I... I apologise,’ Lucas said heavily, and that apology was so unexpected that Katy could only stare at him with her mouth open. He looked at her with a roughened sincerity and she fought against relenting.

      Glaring, she stood up. Her good intentions of sweeping out of his cabin with her head held high, now that she had roundly given him a piece of her mind, were undermined by the fact that she was wearing next to nothing and had to hobble a bit because the grazes on her knees were killing her.

      ‘Katy,’ he murmured huskily, stopping her in her tracks. He reached out to stay her and the pressure on her arm where his fingers circled her skin was as powerful as a branding iron. She had to try not to flinch. Awareness shot through her, rooting her to the spot. ‘I don’t, actually, think that you’re easy and I certainly don’t take it for granted that you’re going to fall into bed with me because that’s the kind of person you are. And,’ he continued with grudging sincerity, ‘If there’s a part of me that is still wary, it’s because it’s my nature to be suspicious. The bottom line is that I want you, and I might be wrong but I think it’s mutual. So tell me...is it?’

      He took half a step closer to her, looked down and suppressed a groan at the delicious sight of her delicate breasts encased in stretchy fabric. ‘If I’ve misread the signals,’ he told her, ‘Then tell me now and I’ll back off. You have my word. Nor will I let it affect whatever lies down the line in terms of your position in my company. Say no, and this is never mentioned again. It will never have happened.’

      Katy hesitated. She so badly wanted to tell him that, no, she most certainly was not interested in him that way, but then she thought of him backing away and leaving her alone and she realised with a jolt how much she enjoyed spending time in his company when they were tossing ideas around and sparring with one another. She also now realised that underneath that sparring had been the very thread of sexual attraction which he had picked up with his highly developed antennae.

      ‘That’s not the point,’ she dodged feebly.

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘I mean...’ Katy muttered sotto voce, red-faced and uncomfortable, ‘It doesn’t matter whether we’re attracted to one another or not. It would be mad for us to do anything about it. Not that I would,’ she continued at speed, face as red as a beetroot. ‘After Duncan, I swore to myself that I would never make the mistake of throwing myself into anything with someone unless I really felt that they were perfect for me.’

      ‘I’ve never heard such nonsense in my entire life,’ Lucas said bluntly, and, feathers ruffled, Katy tensed and bristled.

      ‘What’s wrong with wanting the best?’ she demanded, folding her arms, neither leaving the room nor returning to the bed, instead just standing in the middle as awkward as anything. He, on the other hand, looked totally at ease even though he was as scantily clad as she was. But then, he obviously wasn’t the sort who gave a jot if his body was on display.

      ‘Nothing’s wrong with wanting the best,’ Lucas concurred. ‘But tell me, how do you intend to find it? Are you going to present each and every candidate with a questionnaire which they will be obliged to fill out before proceeding? I’m going to take a leap of faith here and assume that you didn’t know about Powell’s marital status. You went out with the man and presumably you believed that he was the right one for you.’

      ‘I made a mistake,’ Katy said defensively.

      ‘And mistakes happen. Even if you’re not being deliberately misled by a guy, you could both go out in good faith, thinking that it will go somewhere, only to discover that you hit obstacles along the way that make it impossible for you both to consider a life together.’

      ‘And you’re an expert because...?’ Katy asked sarcastically.

      ‘People are fond of self-deception,’ Lucas delivered with all-knowing cool. ‘I should know because I witnessed it first-hand with my father. You want something badly enough and you try and make it work and, if it all makes sense on paper, then you try all the harder to make it work. In a worst case scenario, you might actually walk up the aisle and then into a maternity ward, still kidding yourself that you’ve got the real deal, only to be forced to concede defeat, then cutting the ties is a thousand times more complicated.’

      ‘You’re so cynical...about everything.’ She harked back to the lack of trust that had made him think that the only solution to saving his deal was to isolate her just in case.


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