Just then, a flash of pale gold against the backdrop of dark stone captured his attention. His dark eyes narrowed intently as he realised it was the girl from this morning. As he watched she flicked the shimmering mass of her hair over one shoulder and stretched herself out on a towel.
Silently Max moved towards her, his body reacting with instant masculine enthusiasm as his dark gaze swept over her. The pink bikini she was wearing was quite modest, compared to some he had seen, but the figure it graced was the ultimate in feminine allure. Her eyes were closed, and her glorious hair lay in a silken stream over one high firm breast. He had been right about her legs— they were long, slender and very sexy—and her skin was as smooth as silk, with just the shimmer of a tan. Max couldn't take his eyes off her, and he was instantly regret¬ting his promise to Alex to leave her alone.
As he moved closer his shadow fell over her and she opened her eyes.
'Sophie Rutherford, I believe?' he drawled smoothly, and held out his hand. 'I am Max Quintano.' Max watched as she shot to her feet as though electrified. 'This morning did not seem to be quite the right time to introduce myself. Please forgive me for any embarrassment I may have caused you.' He smiled.
'Sophie, yes...' She blushed and took his hand. 'It is nice to meet you, Mr Quintano, but I think it is I who should apologise to you, for locking you in your room.'
Max felt the slight tremble in her hand and looked into her gorgeous green eyes. There he saw embarrassment, but also the feminine interest she could not hide—and mirac¬ulously his hangover vanished. 'Please, call me Max. There is no need to apologise—it was my fault—I must have startled you. Anyway, it is much too hot to argue, and as it happens you are occupying my favourite beach.' He smiled again. 'I wouldn't want to chase you away—I have already done that once today—-please stay and allow me to show you that my apology is genuine and I am not some giant burglar.'
Sophie pulled her suddenly tingling hand from his and almost groaned. 'Did Alex tell you I said that? How em¬barrassing.'
Never before had she felt such instant and overwhelm¬ing attraction for a man. She had taken one look at him this morning and, shocked witless, had behaved like a ter¬rified child

Now, desperate to improve his impression of her, she added with a wry smile, 'But, in my defence, you really are very tall.'
'I'm six foot five—and there is no need for embarrass¬ment, Sophie. I can assure you I am not in the least embar¬rassed by it. However, you do look rather red in the face—how about a swim to cool off?' Max suggested. Not giving her time to answer, he added, 'Race you to the water!'
Of course Sophie followed him. He hadn't doubted for a moment that she would; women had chased him all his adult life.
Wading into the water, Max turned and splashed her, and saw her smile broaden to light up her whole face. He also saw the gleam of mischief in her eyes just before she bent down and splashed him back.
The horseplay that followed did nothing to cool Max's suddenly rampant libido. Had she any idea that when she bent forward her lush breasts were bobbing up and down and almost out of her top? he wondered.
Eventually Max could stand it no longer, and he scooped her up into his arms. 'Trying to splash me, are you? You're going to pay for that, lady,’ he declared, and waded farther out until the water lapped at his thighs.
'Don't you dare!' she cried, wrapping her arms firmly around Max's neck, her green eyes sparkling with laughter.
'There is nothing I wouldn't do to have you in my arms, Sophie,' Max teased, his dark gaze clashing with hers.
For a long moment their eyes locked, and the teasing stopped as desire, fierce and primitive, raced between them.
Sophie's green eyes darkened as for the first time in her life she felt the sudden rush of sexual desire for a man. She was intensely aware of Max's arm under her thighs, his other across her back and under her arm, the pressure of his long fingers splayed against the side of her breast. Her stomach churned and her pulse raced as the rest of the world seemed to stop. She simply stared into his eyes as though hypnotized, and the air between them grew heavy and shimmered with sexual tension.
Her gaze fell to his wide, firm mouth, and instinctively her 1 ips parted as she imagined how his lips, his kiss, would feel.
The next second Sophie was under the water, swallow¬ing what felt like half the ocean. Spluttering and gasping, she stood up and wiped the water from her eyes, to find Max watching her with a strange, almost regretful look on his face.
'I think we both need to cool off a little. I'm going to swim to the headland—see you later, Sophie.' And, like a sleek dolphin, Max dived out to sea, his strong brown arms cleaving the surface without so much as a ripple in the water.

Only later would she realise that a shark would have been a more appropriate metaphor....
Sophie watched him, helpless to do otherwise. Nothing in her nineteen years had prepared her for a man like Max Quintano.
After the death of her mother, when she was eleven, she had been sent to a girls' boarding school by her father. By the time she had reached the age of thirteen she had sprouted up like a beanpole to five feet nine and had become terribly self-conscious. She'd had few friends, and had spent the school holidays at home in Surrey, with Meg the housekeeper, while her father had worked.
A late developer, only in the past year at university had she felt her confidence grow in leaps and bounds. She'd been delighted to discover that being tall was no deterrent to making friends of both sexes, and she had even dated a few boys.
But never had she felt anything like the stomach-flipping, spine-tingling excitement Max Quintano's teasing smile and playful touch aroused in her.
A dreamy smile curved her wide mouth as she walked back up the beach and sat down on her towel, her besotted gaze focusing on his dark head, which was now a distant dot in the water. She could still feel the imprint of his arms as he had lifted her, the touch of his fingers against her breast on her heated skin.... Was this love or just fascina¬tion? she mused, unable to take her eyes off him.
Max turned in the water and struck back towards the shore, his tumescent flesh finally quietened by his strenuous swim. He had not had a woman since returning to Italy from Australia at the news of Paulo's death. He had endured four months of celibacy and was certain that this was the reason for his extreme reaction to the lovely Sophie.
Holding her in his arms, he had known she wanted him to kiss her—and he had certainly been aching to taste her ]ips and a lot more. But he had done the right thing and had left her alone, as Alex had requested. Alex was right. She was too young.
Feeling quite self-righteous, Max strode out of the water and flicked the hair from his eyes. He could see that she was still there on the beach, and as he approached she sat up and smiled. All his good intentions vanished. He was going to be in Sicily for a while, so what was wrong with a little flirtation with a beautiful girl?
'Come on, Sophie.' He reached a hand out to her. 'You have had too much sun. I'll walk you back to the hotel.' As she rose to her feet Max pressed a swift, soft kiss on the curve of her cheek. He heard the sharp intake of her breath, saw the sudden darkening of her incredible eyes his kiss had provoked, and before he made a complete fool of himself added, 'I'll show you the secret of the maze.'
As one week slipped into two Sophie didn't know if she was on her head or her heels. She was hopelessly in love for the first time in her life. Just the sight of Max Quintano set her heart aflutter, and when he spoke to her she was breathless. He treated her with a teasing friendliness, but his casual invitations to join him for a swim or a walk when she was off duty were enough to send her into seventh heaven. Of course she agreed like an eager puppy, and though they were not really dates they were both an agony and an ecstasy to her foolish heart. Max was the perfect gentleman at all times, and as much as Sophie wanted him to he never progressed past a kiss on her cheek.
Two weeks after first meeting Max, Sophie walked out of her bedroom and into the sitting room of the chalet she shared with her friend Marnie, the head receptionist of the hotel. Sophie was sure that tonight would be the night all her dreams would be fulfilled. Max had asked her out to dinner at a restaurant in Palermo—at last, a proper date

'So what do you think, Marnie?' Sophie asked as she made a quick twirl. She had bought the sophisticated green silk designer gown from the hotel boutique that afternoon, hoping to impress Max.


'Let me guess—you are meeting Max Quintano?' Marnie quipped.
'Yes.' Sophie beamed. 'But do I look okay?'
'You look stunning! Max will be knocked for six. But are you sure you know what you are doing?' Marnie asked with a frown. 'I've warned you before about Max and his women. I even showed you a magazine article, remember? I can understand how you feel, but he is a lot older than you, and a sophisticated, experienced man. You're young, with your education to complete. Don't throw it all away on a brief affair—because that is all it can ever be.'
Sophie stiffened. 'I know, and I've heard all the ru¬mours, but I'm sure those stories are vastly exaggerated.'
'Believe what you like—teenagers usually do,' Marnie said dryly. 'All I am saying is be careful. Max is a multi¬millionaire with a matching lifestyle. He rarely stays here for more than the odd weekend. The only reason he is here now is to fill in for his father and his family after the death of his brother. But that is about to change, because I heard today the rest of the family are coming soon—and when they do, Max will not hang around for long.'
'You don't know that for sure,' Sophie said, her heart plummeting in her breast at the thought of Max leaving.
'No, I don't. But Max and his father do not have the closest relationship in the world. I understand that although he gets on well with his extended family, the person he cares the most about is his stepsister, Gina. It's well known that they have had an on-off relationship for years. Some say she tolerates his other women because she is dedi¬cated to her career as a doctor and not interested in marriage. But rumour has it that Old Man Quintano told Max ages ago he would not countenance such a relation¬ship. As far as he is concerned they are brother and sister, and anything else between them is unthinkable. But cir¬cumstances change, and Max is very much his own master, and if and when he does decide to marry I wouldn't be sur¬prised if Gina was his bride. So be warned, Sophie, and don't do anything foolish.'
Sophie was saved from responding by the ringing of the doorbell, but her happiness of five minutes ago had vanished. However, it returned the moment she opened the door and saw Max, starkly handsome and elegantly clad in an immaculately tailored suit. His tall figure oozed sex appeal, and Sophie's already pounding heart leapt in her breast.
Max turned a smiling face towards the open door and looked at Sophie. For a moment he was struck dumb. Her mass of blond hair was swept up in an intricate knot on top of her head. Her exquisite face was delicately made up to enhance her superb bone structure and fabulous green eyes. As for what she was wearing—the mid-thigh-length sheath of emerald-green silk outlined every feminine curve and lay straight across her high firm breasts. Damn it, he was getting aroused just looking at her.
'You look amazing—and remarkably you're ready,' he said, thinking that she wasn't the only one—he could have quite happily ravished her there and then.
'Yes

She smiled at him and the breath left his body. Max had to remind himself once again that he had promised Alex he wouldn't seduce her—but the trouble was, Sophie intrigued him on every level. She made him laugh, she was clever beyond her years and she was a great companion. As for her physical appearance—he only had to look at her to want her. He should never have asked her out tonight, he realised, because he did not trust himself to keep his hands off her.
Sophie sensed none of Max's doubts, either during the short car ride or as he took her arm and led her into the restaurant—she was simply too excited.
Max ordered champagne, and when their glasses were filled he raised his and said, 'To a beautiful girl and a beautiful night.'
Sophie's face heated at his mention of night. Did he mean what she hoped he meant? Was he at last going to move their relationship to the next level? Kiss her and then make love to her? Yes, she decided as his deep, dark eyes smiled into hers and they touched glasses. With that simple exchange, the mood had been set for the evening.
Sophie let Max order for her, and as course followed course and the champagne flowed freely she fell ever deeper under his spell. They talked about everything and nothing, and Max punctuated their conversation with a smile or the touch of his hand on hers. He fed her morsels of food she had never tried before, watching her every reaction with amusement and something more. By the end of the meal Sophie knew she was totally in love with Max.
'That was a perfect meal.' She sighed happily as Max paid the bill.
Perfect food, maybe, Max thought. But pure torture for him. He was white-knuckled with the strain of keeping his hands off her. He must have been mad to think he could have just a mild flirtation with Sophie, and when he slipped an arm around her waist and led her out of the crowded restaurant it was nearly his undoing. She was tall, and when she leant into his side they were a perfect fit, her hip moving sexily against his thigh.
'I am so glad you brought me here.' She turned her head to smile up into his face. Her teeth were even and brilliant white against the light golden tan of her skin and he felt his body tighten another notch.
He was no masochist. This had to stop or he was in real danger of losing control—not something he ever did. Dropping his arm from her waist, Max opened the car door for her-—but it did not stop his heart hammering in his chest. She looked so utterly exquisite and so damn naive she hadn't the sense to hide her feelings.
'My pleasure,' he said, and abruptly slammed the door.
By the time he slid behind the wheel and started the car he had his body under control. As he manoeuvred the vehicle along the winding road back to the hotel he glanced at Sophie and realised he had no right to be angry with her. It wasn't her fault she had the looks and the body of a temptress and stopped men in their tracks, he thought dryly as he brought the car to a halt outside her chalet.
After their laughter and intimacy over the dinner table Sophie sensed Max's mood had inexplicably changed, and when the engine stopped she glanced up at him and wondered what she had done wrong.
'Home again,' she said inanely, and blushed as she realised she was way out of his league in the sophistica¬tion stakes. But in the next moment he proved her wrong.
'Ah, Sophie,' he drawled huskily. 'What am I going to do with you?'
She saw the sensual smile that curved his firm lips as he reached to slide his arm around her waist and pull her close to the hard wall of his chest. He growled something softly, something she did not understand, and then his mouth covered hers and she didn't care.
It was as though a starburst exploded in her brain, sending shock waves to every nerve-ending in her body. He slid his tongue seductively between her softly parted lips, exploring the sweet, moist interior, and her hands in¬voluntarily reached up to clasp around his neck.
His kiss was more than she could ever have imagined, and Sophie closed her eyes and gave herself up to the wonder of his embrace. She felt his hand stroke up to cup her breast, and as his thumb grazed the silk-covered, suddenly taut peak, a fiery wave of desire scorched through her veins.
'Dio! How I want you,' Max groaned

Sophie's fingers were tangled in the sleek dark hair of his head, and her tongue—at first tentatively and then te¬naciously—duelled with his as an ever-increasing hunger consumed her.
Max heard her moan when he finally lifted his head, and saw the passion in her dazzling green eyes. He knew she was his for the taking. He almost succumbed—after all, he was not made of stone, and denying his body was not something he was used to. But he had made a promise to Alex, so he had to rein in his carnal impulses.
Gently he pushed her back against the seat, and got out of the car, drawing in a few deep, steadying breaths as he walked around to open her door. 'Come on, cara.'
Hazy-eyed, Sophie glanced at the hand Max held out. It took an enormous effort on her part to still the shaking in her own hand and take the help he was offering, and step out of the car.
She looked at the staff chalet and back at Max, her body still strumming with excitement, not sure what to do. what to say.
Sensing her uncertainty, Max curved an arm around her waist and led her to the door. Once there, he turned her in his arms and narrowed his dark eyes on her bemused face—he would make it easy for her.
'Thank you for a lovely evening, Sophie. I won't come in. I have some international calls to make—different time zones, you understand.' He brushed his lips against her brow and said regretfully, 'I am leaving tomorrow, but maybe we will dine out again the next time I am here?'
Max wanted her, but he had a growing suspicion that once with Sophie would never be enough. He didn't believe in love, but he was astute enough to recognise that what he felt for Sophie and how he lost control around her could very easily become dangerous to his peace of mind.
'Thank you—I would like that,' she murmured.
Max saw the naked adoration and the hurt in her eyes, and much as he wanted Sophie he knew Alex was right— she wasn't for him. He had watched her with the guests, the staff and with the children she quite happily looked after whenever she was asked. She was so caring and everyone adored her. Sophie deserved the very best, and he was far too much of a cynic to believe in love and happy ever af¬ter—whilst she was too young and too much of a romantic for the kind of affair he enjoyed. The timing wasn't right. Maybe in a few years, when she had completed her studies, and if she was still single... who knew...?
'Good night, sweet Sophie.' Because he couldn't resist touching her one last time, he lifted a finger and traced the outline of her lips, saw her smile. 'That's better. A young girl like you should always be smiling,' he drawled softly, his dark eyes enigmatic on her beautiful face.
He opened the chalet door, and with a hand at her back urged her inside with a wry twist of his lips. She was temptation on legs, and far too responsive and eager for her own good—not every man had his self-control.
'And be careful,' Max warned her as frustration rose up in him. He spun on his heel and left. His decision was made. He would take a flying visit to Russia, to iron out a few problems with the manager of his Russian operation. As he recalled, the company's receptionist, Nikita, was a very in¬ventive lover. With the arrogant confidence of a wealthy man in his prime, he told himself the world was full of beautiful women more than willing to share his bed. He didn't need Sophie, and he would dismiss her from his mind.
Sophie watched Max walk away, wishing he would at least look back and give her some sign that he cared. But it was in vain.
Later that night, when Marnie found her curled up on the sofa, red-eyed from weeping and looking miserable, she gave Sophie the benefit of her opinion.
'What did you expect after one dinner date? An avowal of love? Cheer up, girl. Max Quintano can have any woman he wants and he knows it. You were a pleasant di¬version while he was here.' She shrugged. 'Who knows? If he returns he might take you out again, and if he does just remember what I told you before: a brief affair is the best any woman can hope for from him.'
Marnie's words didn't help, but at least they made Sophie face up to reality. Her first ever crush on a man and it had to be on Max Quintano—-a much older, super-rich mining tycoon, and a womaniser by all accounts. Where had her brain been? He was as far out of her reach as the moon. Her mistake had been in mistaking a teenage crush for true love, she told herself flatly, and she had to get over it. At least she hadn't slept with him....
But somehow that thought gave her no comfort at all.