Over the weeks that followed, their conversations became more complex—a little guarded but stimulating. The past was never brought up for discussion, which meant unanswered questions lay between them. By the end of the first week, they had enjoyed heated and serious talks and long walks; a new friendship formed, with a tenuous trust beginning to evolve.
Trace indulged her love for the arts and ventured to the theatre with her one night. Afterwards, as they shared a quiet, intimate dinner at the famed Biltmore Hotel, they encountered friends of Crispina. A surprised look crossed their faces on seeing them together. It quickly turned to displeasure at their obvious intimacy. Trace held her hand and didn’t release it. Self-conscious, Diana tried to remove her hand, but Trace held it firmly but gently. After a few moments of uncomfortable chit-chat, the couple said their goodbyes.
Trace reached for his wine glass and swirled the liquid around. He seemed fixated on its movement. “Are you enjoying the music?” Finally, he took a swallow and set the fragile stemware on the table in a controlled matter.
“Yes. It’s lovely.”
He leaned back. “Why are you uncomfortable?”
“I’m not.”
His voice was strained. She could tell he was angry. “Come on, Diana. You can pretend with yourself but not with me. You tried to withdraw your hand when Crispina’s friends arrived.”
Taking her time to answer, she took a sip of her drink. “I was surprised to see them.”
“Really? Or was it the fact that you were with me?”
“I don’t have anything to be ashamed of,” she said.
“I didn’t know if you were going to get up and run or slide under the table,” he said sarcastically.
“You’re being overly dramatic.”
“I don’t think so. It matters to you what they think.”
She sighed. He was vying for a fight, but she refused to get angry. He didn’t want her to have any doubts about their relationship. But she wasn’t comfortable in public, and it showed. “Of course it matters what people think. I have to live in this town. But I don’t let it dictate my life.”
“Who are you trying convince, me or yourself?”
“Trace, we had a relationship in the past.”
“I know. And you never had a problem being with me in public. Why now?”
“I wasn’t John’s widow.”
“Ah, I see. Being married to John made you more aware?”
“It wasn’t easy being a younger woman married to an older man. I never got used to the stares and the whispers, but I never let them see me sweat.”
“You liked having them call you the Ice Princess.”
She inwardly cringed. “I heard people called me that. I didn’t care because I know who I am.” No one knew how much the words wounded her.
“If you say so.”
“Look, I have nothing to hide. I just didn’t expect to see them.”
“Are you sure there isn’t more to it? John has been gone a year. I believe it’s appropriate for you to date.”
“He wouldn’t want me to be alone. Anyway, I would never do anything to embarrass his memory.”
“And being with me does that?”
“I didn’t say that. You’re putting words in my mouth.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“People can be vicious. Words can be damaging. I have a son to think about. I don’t want my decisions to hurt him.”
His tone serious, he said, “No one will dare to say anything to you. You have me now.”
“Do I?” She paused, giving him a sharp look. “For how long?”
“For as long as you want, and in more ways than you can imagine.” His voice smooth and hypnotic, he reached over and took her hand. She tried hard to ignore the heat simmering between them, but each passing day it was getting harder to avoid the need to recapture the magic they’d once enjoyed. The attraction was stronger than before, and trying to fight it was becoming a losing battle. Although Trace wanted more than the occasional touch, he kept his distance and never made a move. At times she would catch a strange look on his face, but it would pass so quickly she would wonder if she had imagined it. It was hard to interpret a complicated man like Trace, who didn’t generally show emotion. He’d made it obvious he wanted her in his bed. Want and need were a part of Trace’s persona, but love wasn’t in the equation. Being a red-blooded man who enjoyed women was normal for most men, but for Trace it was even more so. Resisting Trace’s allure was a full time task. His magnetic pull was strong and addictive.
“I’ll not tolerate anyone hurting you, Diana. If they do, they will have me to answer to.”
She shivered. He was still classified by many as a hard and ruthless businessman. When it came to running Pisano, he could be unrelenting, making sure the executive board was on top of their game. He didn’t take kindly to people who took their jobs for granted. His explosive temper had showed itself when an executive came unprepared to a meeting. Even the strongest person would cringe at one of his cold and direct glares. Enemies were many, and friends were few. What people thought of him didn’t faze him. Despite it all, he was respected as a man of great strength and intelligence, a force to be reckoned with.
“Thanks, but I can take care of myself.”
He let loose his gorgeous smile. She caught her breath at the brilliance of it.
“I’m certain you can. But humor me and let me have the pleasure of protecting what belongs to me.”
She bristled, as he’d known she would at the remark. She prided herself on being strong, highly intelligent, and, yes, sometimes stubborn, but she knew she was no match against Trace’s power. His ability to eradicate a person, whether it was business or personal, was legendary. One didn’t cross Trace, nor ask for forgiveness or another chance to do business with him. He could be a cold and rancorous man. However, marriage to John had taught Diana not to back down from a fight, and for that she was grateful. Trace wouldn’t find the naïve young girl of five years ago. He was in for a very rude awakening.
* * *
For a weekend trip, they sailed down the coast. They watched the dolphins jumping high out of the water, gasping with excitement and joy at seeing the beautiful animals at play. Then Trace let her take a turn behind the wheel of the huge motor yacht. He taught her to steer. It was a lot different from driving a car. The exhilaration of the experience was powerful and liberating.
As the sun disappeared, they sat on deck watching seagulls as they flew over searching for a chance to grab food from unsuspecting boaters. It was a beautiful evening and very relaxing and peaceful. Leaning back against the lounge chair, she sipped a chilled glass of fruit juice and closed her eyes, enjoying the evening air.
Although relaxed, they were acutely aware of each other. Accepting Trace’s weekend invitation had been a major step. She was nervous, wondering about what would happen next. She blew hot and cold and was angry with herself because she couldn’t make a decision to be with him or not. They were enjoying themselves, and she saw a side of Trace he had never shown before. Had he really changed that much in the last five years?
Trace lay in the lounge chair beside her looking handsome and virile. His blue polo shirt enhanced his well-built body. With his arms stretched above his head, his eyes concealed behind sunglasses, and his breathing slow and even, he appeared to be asleep. The white shorts showed off his tan and muscular legs. He always tanned easily, and being in the sun most of the morning had given a beautiful golden hue to his skin.
The last bit of sun lit his face. He made a physically potent picture and she felt a tremor inside. She was losing control—fast.
He turned and caught her staring at him. He removed his Giorgio sunglasses. Blue eyes stared back at her with a burning intensity. “Are you glad you came?” he asked, not breaking eye contact as he swung his legs to the side of the lounge.
“Yes, I am.” She took a sip of her drink. “It’s beautiful out here.”
“Good. I want you to enjoy yourself. You’ve been working hard.”
Surprised, her mouth gaped open. She didn’t realize he knew the effort she’d put into making sure the two major marketing segments due in a week were completed. “Are you feeling empathy for me?” she quipped with a smile.
He grinned. “No, you have a team of marketing managers and graphic designers who work for you. You don’t have to do everything yourself.”
“I enjoy what I do.”
“Everyone on your team knows how dedicated you are,” he drawled, lifting his glass of lemonade. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”
She raised her glass and touched it against his. “Here’s to a great marketing strategy.”
“And to us,” he added.
She pulled the glass back. “There’s no us, Trace. There’s you and there’s me. Two separate entities.”
“Really?” His voice was low and seductive. “We’re together—alone on the ocean.”
The pit of her stomach began to churn. “We’re not alone. There are crew and staff on board.”
“For all intents and purposes, we are alone. The staff and crew work for me,” he emphasized. “No one would dare disturb us.”
She gave a small laugh. “I’ve always known you were arrogant, but you continue to astound me,” she said, and caught a look of surprise on his face. That in turn surprised her. He really had no idea how arrogant he was. He expected everyone to conform to his wishes, commands, and dislikes as if they were the norm.
“I’m confident. I don’t see anything wrong with that.”
“There is a difference between being confident and just cocky.” She leaned back against the chair and raised her face to the fleeting sun. She inhaled deeply, smelling the saltiness of the water as the breeze gently blew across her.
He gave a hearty laugh. Diana raised her head up and looked at him, spellbound. She didn’t believe she had ever heard him laugh with such robust abandon.
“You amaze me, Diana. Five years ago you would’ve never said that to me. You were such a nice girl,” he teased.
She rolled her eyes at him. “I’m still a nice girl.” She leaned back again and closed her eyes.
There was a comfortable silence. “Are you ready to concede?” he asked.
“What?”
“That we have moved to the next level in our relationship.”
She turned toward him and searched his eyes. He was waiting for a response. She started to act as if she didn’t know what he was talking about, but decided against it. She tilted her nose in the air and gave him a haughty look. “I concede to a tenuous friendship and nothing else.”
He grabbed his heart. “Oh, Diana, you wound me.”
She frowned. She wanted to stick her tongue out at him, but it was a childish gesture. Instead, she rolled her eyes at him again and tilted her nose in the air. “You haven’t convinced me I want a relationship with you, and you won’t.”
He threw back his head and laughed again. He is going to disrupt every sleeping creature in the ocean if he keeps that up, she thought.
“We’ll see. I still have time left before the will is satisfied,” he said.
Despite his relaxed posture, those piercing blue eyes studied her thoughtfully for a moment, giving nothing away.
She wasn’t fooled. Trace had set out to get her in bed. Once he’d made up his mind to do or to get something, it was accomplished come hell or high water. How long could she evade him? She was afraid she would succumb, no matter how much she fought the inevitable. But she wanted to be the one to control when and where it happened.
Her nose picked up his masculine scent. He had ventured near without her realizing it. He leaned closer to her. The dark stubble on his jaw seemed to intensify his masculinity; she swallowed, trying to clear the lump that had formed in her throat.
“It’s time for dinner.” He offered his hand and waited. A warm rush came over her when she placed her hand in his. Feeling she had crossed over another threshold, she stood. Too close, they stared at each other, breathing in deep breaths. Diana was the first to break the connection.
“I didn’t realize it was that late. I’m starved.” She slowly pulled her hand from his.
“I see nothing has changed. You still love to eat,” he said, leaving her no doubt that he was referring to more than food.
Her heart flipped. Every angle of his strong, handsome face was concentrated on her. The arrogant prince of an extremely rich family with ancestry that could be traced back centuries, he represented his legacy well in his demeanor. These past weeks in his presence had been savory torture. Both of them were aware of each other but hadn’t given in to their desires. They’d redirected their energy into building their relationship. He hadn’t tried to seduce her, not once. But she wished he had—didn’t she? She was afraid to answer the question.
“Food is my weakness. I’m a certified foodie, but I try to be careful what I eat. The pounds can sneak on without you noticing.”
His eyes glided up and down her body. “There’s nothing wrong with your body. In fact, you could stand to add a couple of pounds. You’re beautiful.” He paused. “No, let me correct that. You’re perfect.” His voice had grown husky. It brought a warm flush to her face and a tingle in the lower part of her body.
She tried to hurry past him and stumbled. He caught her arm. “Thank you. I’m going to shower and change. Give me thirty minutes and I’ll meet you in the stateroom.”
He chuckled and released her. “I remembered it usually takes you thirty minutes to shower and two hours to dress.”
“Having a small child changed all that.” She reached for her sarong and wrapped it around her hips. The entire time he watched her movements. Finally, she grabbed her sunglasses, put them on, and walked away.
She released a nervous breath when she reached the bottom of the steps.