emotions to blot out the crazy, reckless feelings she was experiencing for Leon.
But, try though she did, feeling bitter suddenly seemed like a wasted emotion—because Craig and what he had done didn’t seem to matter so much any more.
CHAPTER SIX
K AYLA DIDN ’ T SEE Leon the next day, or the day after that, and when he did come down to the cottage again, looking stupendous in a white T-shirt and light, hip-hugging trousers, it was only to deliver logs to Philomena.
‘So you’re still roadworthy, then?’ Kayla remarked, almost coyly, when he came into the sitting room after offloading and stacking the logs beside the huge indoor oven, still embarrassingly mindful of their conversation the last time they had met.
‘Just about,’ Leonidas reassured her with a self-effacing grimace. ‘And I see that you’re just about as cheeky as ever.’
‘No, I’m not,’ Kayla asserted, thrilled nevertheless by the sensual gleam in those midnight-black eyes that seemed to promise some delightful retribution if she didn’t stop. Wildly she wondered if he had been right the other day, and she
had
been taunting him solely for his attention. Because despite all he had said about no attachments and no strings, she wanted that attention now—like crazy! ‘We were wondering why we hadn’t seen you,’ she said, as nonchalantly as she could.
‘We?’ He picked up on her deliberate choice of pronoun—and on the little tremor she couldn’t keep out of her voice. Obviously, from the way his mouth compressed in mild amusement. ‘Are you saying you missed me?’
‘No.’ Kayla was glad that Philomena had left the room—though not before she’d noticed how the woman had laid agrateful hand on Leon’s arm for the work he had just done. The unspoken affection the two of them shared touched Kayla immensely.
Yet she
had
missed him, she thought, and Leon knew it too—evidently from the way he laughed in response.
‘In that case you won’t object to spending the day with me,’ he said, deliberately misinterpreting what she had said. ‘Philomena told me you were asking one of her neighbours about the little island the other day—about if you could book a trip across there.’
He meant that dark mass of land she could see jutting out of the sea from practically every aspect of this hillside.
‘She also mentioned that you spend far too much time worrying that you aren’t doing enough to help her around the place. She wants you to enjoy your holiday—so do I—and as there are no organised trips to that island I’ll be happy to take you over there myself.’
Even as he was suggesting it Leonidas told himself that he was being unwise. He had assured Kayla—as well as himself—that he wasn’t prepared to have any sort of relationship with her, but try as he might he just couldn’t keep away. Yet if he spent time with her, he warned himself, he would be deceiving her with every word he uttered. And if he didn’t…?
If he didn’t then he’d go mad thinking about her, he admitted silently, feeling the thrust of his scorching libido flaring into life just from sparring with her, not to mention from the scent of her, which was acting on his senses as powerfully as if he’d just opened the door on some willing wanton’s boudoir.
Her appearance wasn’t helping his control. She was wearing white shorts, which showed off far too much of those deliciously creamy legs, and a sleeveless lemon blouse tied under her breasts. It revealed just enough of her shallow cleavage to make him want to see more, and left her gradually tanning slender midriff delightfully bare.
‘Thanks, but I think I’ll give it a miss today,’ she said, disappointing him.
‘Suit yourself,’ he muttered, turning away. He was relieved that the decision had been made—especially since he had been entertaining the strongest desire to tug open that tantalising little blouse and mould her sensitive breasts to his palms until she sobbed with the
But, try though she did, feeling bitter suddenly seemed like a wasted emotion—because Craig and what he had done didn’t seem to matter so much any more.
CHAPTER SIX
K AYLA DIDN ’ T SEE Leon the next day, or the day after that, and when he did come down to the cottage again, looking stupendous in a white T-shirt and light, hip-hugging trousers, it was only to deliver logs to Philomena.
‘So you’re still roadworthy, then?’ Kayla remarked, almost coyly, when he came into the sitting room after offloading and stacking the logs beside the huge indoor oven, still embarrassingly mindful of their conversation the last time they had met.
‘Just about,’ Leonidas reassured her with a self-effacing grimace. ‘And I see that you’re just about as cheeky as ever.’
‘No, I’m not,’ Kayla asserted, thrilled nevertheless by the sensual gleam in those midnight-black eyes that seemed to promise some delightful retribution if she didn’t stop. Wildly she wondered if he had been right the other day, and she
had
been taunting him solely for his attention. Because despite all he had said about no attachments and no strings, she wanted that attention now—like crazy! ‘We were wondering why we hadn’t seen you,’ she said, as nonchalantly as she could.
‘We?’ He picked up on her deliberate choice of pronoun—and on the little tremor she couldn’t keep out of her voice. Obviously, from the way his mouth compressed in mild amusement. ‘Are you saying you missed me?’
‘No.’ Kayla was glad that Philomena had left the room—though not before she’d noticed how the woman had laid agrateful hand on Leon’s arm for the work he had just done. The unspoken affection the two of them shared touched Kayla immensely.
Yet she
had
missed him, she thought, and Leon knew it too—evidently from the way he laughed in response.
‘In that case you won’t object to spending the day with me,’ he said, deliberately misinterpreting what she had said. ‘Philomena told me you were asking one of her neighbours about the little island the other day—about if you could book a trip across there.’
He meant that dark mass of land she could see jutting out of the sea from practically every aspect of this hillside.
‘She also mentioned that you spend far too much time worrying that you aren’t doing enough to help her around the place. She wants you to enjoy your holiday—so do I—and as there are no organised trips to that island I’ll be happy to take you over there myself.’
Even as he was suggesting it Leonidas told himself that he was being unwise. He had assured Kayla—as well as himself—that he wasn’t prepared to have any sort of relationship with her, but try as he might he just couldn’t keep away. Yet if he spent time with her, he warned himself, he would be deceiving her with every word he uttered. And if he didn’t…?
If he didn’t then he’d go mad thinking about her, he admitted silently, feeling the thrust of his scorching libido flaring into life just from sparring with her, not to mention from the scent of her, which was acting on his senses as powerfully as if he’d just opened the door on some willing wanton’s boudoir.
Her appearance wasn’t helping his control. She was wearing white shorts, which showed off far too much of those deliciously creamy legs, and a sleeveless lemon blouse tied under her breasts. It revealed just enough of her shallow cleavage to make him want to see more, and left her gradually tanning slender midriff delightfully bare.
‘Thanks, but I think I’ll give it a miss today,’ she said, disappointing him.
‘Suit yourself,’ he muttered, turning away. He was relieved that the decision had been made—especially since he had been entertaining the strongest desire to tug open that tantalising little blouse and mould her sensitive breasts to his palms until she sobbed with the
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