A Gift for a Lion by Sara Craven Page B

and emotional appeal that made her ache inwardly. She sat, her feet tucked under her, her whole being absorbed in the wild and lonely music, and as the last chords died away she came back to earth with a start to find Leo Vargas' eyes fixed on her face. For a moment her gaze held his, then the heavy lids drooped enigmatically over his strange amber-coloured eyes, and he seemed to withdraw to a distance again, leaving her with that same lonely ache that this music had induced. She had excused herself rather hurriedly and gone to her room, for once obscurely grateful for the locked door and the sheltering walls, only to come face to face with the same hooded gaze from his namesake, staring down at her from the ornately gilded frame.
    She had made up her mind after that to keep out of the way once dinner was over, but here she was forestalled. The next time she had dined downstairs, she and Nick had been alone, Leo dining in his study with some business papers which had arrived urgently for him from the mainland, Nick explained. He did not join them later either, even when Nick put on a miscellany of romantic tunes and coaxed her into dancing with him. He was an excellent dancer and Joanna could have thoroughly enjoyed herself if it had not been for the thought that at any moment Leo Vargas might emerge from his study to find her in his cousin's arms. Why she should have found that such a disturbing prospect Joanna preferred not to consider too closely, and anyway it did not happen. The study door on the other side of the great tiled expanse of the entrance hall remained tightly shut.
    He was obviously determined to keep her at a distance, she thought, and as her aim was to see as little of him as possible during her enforced stay in his house, then she should have been happy. Yet it was useless to pretend that his attitude made her feel particularly elated or to deny that even the sound of his voice in another room could rouse her to a kind of nerve-jangling awareness that had nothing to do with the fact that he was certainly her jailer and quite possibly a criminal as well.
    But even as she acknowledged the thought, that warning quiver ran along her senses and a shadow fell across the smooth tiles that bordered the pool edge. She did not need to look up to know that Leo Vargas stood beside her. Anyway, to have looked at him she would have had to stare up into the sun, which would have put her at a disadvantage, so she continued to watch the dancing water in feigned unawareness of his presence.
    'Leo!' Nick's jovial greeting brought that little piece of play-acting to an abrupt end. 'Joanna is boasting that she is a better swimmer than I am. While it is no doubt true, this is a slur on the honour of the Vorghese men which you must wipe out. I insist that you challenge her.'
    'What makes you think that Signorina Leighton would accept my challenge?'
    She had to look at him then, shading her eyes against the sun's glare. Clad merely in the briefest of swimming trunks he was magnificent, lean but superbly muscled with broad, powerful shoulders. She had felt the smooth strength of his chest under her fingers and she was thankful that the expression in her eyes was hidden from him with the naked longing to touch him again that she knew must be revealed in spite of herself. She was shaken by the feelings his very presence was able to arouse in her. She had always believed that physical desire should go hand in hand with mental harmony in any relationship. Yet she doubted whether she and Leo Vargas shared even a thought in common.
    She said very deliberately, trying to keep her voice cool, 'I would accept any challenge that you issued,
signore
.'
    'And you accept that in any contest between us there can only be one winner?' He slanted a mocking eyebrow at her.
    'I do.' Joanna said. 'But I'm not committing myself as to the identity of that winner, she added silently.
    'Well,' Nick called impatiently, 'are you two going to race each