Competition at the pool.

Mara had been lying beside Richard for almost an hour, enjoying the sunshine and the rather unexpected pleasure of having him almost entirely to herself. The hotel pool was pleasantly quiet, with only a handful of guests occupying the surrounding loungers. Somewhere behind them, soft music drifted from the poolside bar, while the occasional splash interrupted the peaceful afternoon.

Richard appeared thoroughly relaxed. His linen shirt lay folded beside him, and he was reading his book with the occasional sip of sparkling water. Mara had been stealing glances at him over her sunglasses, admiring the broad shoulders and surprisingly athletic build that his usual business clothes tended to conceal. For a man in his mid-fifties, he was in remarkably good shape.

"You're staring, Sugar Plum."

Mara nearly dropped her drink. "I am not!"

Richard turned a page without looking at her. "Of course not."

"How would you know, anyway? You're reading."

"I have excellent peripheral vision."

Mara laughed. "You're becoming terribly smug, Richard."

"I suspect I've always been smug. You're only just noticing."

She settled back against her lounger, smiling to herself. Yesterday she'd been doing all the flirting while Richard carefully avoided encouraging her. Today, however, he seemed to be enjoying their little exchanges almost as much as she was. And that was making him considerably more dangerous.

"Are you actually going to swim?" she asked.

"Eventually."

"You've been saying that for an hour."

"I've been enjoying the sunshine."

"You're frightened I'll beat you in a race."

Richard lowered his book. "Are you challenging me?"

"Perhaps."

"Then I should warn you, I used to be quite a competent swimmer."

"Used to be?"

"Careful, Sugar Plum. You're beginning to sound rather confident."

Mara stood and adjusted her sunglasses. "Come on, then. Let's see what you've got."

Ten minutes later, Mara was forced to concede that Richard Arnett was considerably fitter than she'd anticipated.

He'd slipped into the water with surprising ease and proceeded to swim several lengths with the smooth, economical movements of somebody who'd spent years keeping himself in shape. Mara had attempted to race him, but he'd beaten her comfortably, arriving at the far end of the pool with barely a change in his breathing.

"That's cheating," she complained, pushing wet hair away from her face.

Richard rested his arms along the pool's edge. "How, precisely?"

"You're supposed to let me win."

"Ah. I wasn't aware of that particular rule."

"It's a very important rule."

"Then perhaps you should have mentioned it before challenging me."

Mara splashed him.

Richard laughed and shielded his face. "Good heavens! What happened to the absolute angel I was promised?"

"She drowned."

"Tragic."

Mara splashed him again, harder this time.

Richard retaliated with a small wave of water, catching her across the shoulders. She squealed, laughing as she backed away, and he shook his head in amusement. "You're impossible."

"You love it." The words escaped before she considered them.

Richard's smile softened. "I've always been very fond of you, Mara."

She looked at him for a moment, suddenly conscious that he'd used her name rather than his usual nickname. "I know," she said quietly. Then Mara smiled again. "Race you back?" she said as she cheated to get a head start this time.

Richard chuckled. "Haven't you suffered enough humiliation for one afternoon?"

By the time they returned to their loungers, Mara had decided that swimming was exhausting work, particularly when one's opponent refused to behave like a gentleman and lose gracefully. She wrapped herself in a hotel towel and settled beside Richard, who was drying his hair.

"You're going to be unbearable about winning, aren't you?"

"Almost certainly."

"I should never have challenged you."

"An excellent lesson in humility."

Mara stuck her tongue out at him.

Richard laughed and reached for his water.

For a while, they sat comfortably together, watching the other guests and discussing nothing particularly important. Mara told him about a disastrous holiday she'd taken with Hugh, while Richard recounted an amusing story about a business trip to Singapore.

Eventually, Mara shifted in her lounger and winced. "Something wrong?" Richard asked.

"My shoulder's a bit sore."

"From swimming?"

"Probably. I haven't done that many laps in ages."

Richard glanced at her shoulder. "You were certainly determined to keep up."

"Somebody had to challenge your enormous ego."

"Naturally."

Mara rubbed the back of her neck, trying unsuccessfully to reach the tight muscles beneath her shoulder blade.

Richard watched for a moment. "Would you like a hand?"

She looked at him. "With what?"

"Your shoulder. I could try loosening it up."

Mara's expression brightened. "Oh, Richard. Would you?

He smiled and gestured towards the end of her lounger. "Turn around, then."

Mara sat sideways, gathering her damp hair over one shoulder. Richard moved closer and placed his hands carefully against the tops of her shoulders. The first touch surprised her. His hands were warm and strong, and although he'd rested them lightly against her skin, Mara suddenly became very conscious of just how close he was sitting.

"Here?" he asked, pressing gently beside her neck.

"Mmm. A little lower."

Richard moved his thumbs towards the tight muscles beneath her shoulders. "Good heavens, you are tense."

"Well, somebody made me swim halfway across the country."

"Four lengths of a hotel pool."

"An exhausting ordeal."

He chuckled and continued working carefully along her shoulders.

Mara closed her eyes. It felt wonderful. Richard's hands were firm without being rough, and she found herself relaxing almost immediately. She'd expected a brief, rather awkward attempt at helping her sore shoulder, but he seemed surprisingly good at it.

"Where did you learn to do that?" she asked.

"Years of rowing. You become rather familiar with sore shoulders."

"Perhaps I should challenge you to races more often."

"I suspect that would defeat the purpose."

She laughed softly, then fell quiet.

For Richard, the moment was proving considerably less straightforward than he'd anticipated. He'd offered to help because she'd appeared genuinely uncomfortable, and there was nothing improper about easing a sore shoulder.

Nevertheless, he was acutely aware that this was the first time he'd touched her for more than a fleeting moment since she'd arrived at the hotel. Her damp hair rested against one shoulder, and the faint scent of sunscreen lingered between them.

He concentrated on what he was doing. "Better?" he asked after another minute.

"Much."

"Good."

His hands began to withdraw.

Mara reached up and caught one of them. "Don't stop just yet."

Richard hesitated.

She turned her head slightly, smiling at him. "Please?"

He regarded her for a moment, then gently resumed. "Another minute, Sugar Plum."

"You're spoiling me again."

"I'm beginning to think it's become a habit."

Mara smiled and closed her eyes.

When Richard finally stopped, Mara turned towards him with a genuinely grateful expression. "That was lovely. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

She was still holding his hand.

Richard glanced down, then back at her. "Mara?"

"Hmm?"

"You're holding me hostage."

She laughed. "Am I?"

"I'm beginning to suspect it."

Rather than releasing him immediately, Mara looked down at their joined hands. His was considerably larger than hers, his fingers long and strong, with a few faint marks earned from years of rowing and exercise. She ran her thumb lightly across his knuckles.

Richard became very still. It was such a small gesture, almost absent-minded, but somehow it felt more personal than the playful kiss she'd stolen earlier.

"Mara," he said gently.

She looked up. For once, she didn't have a clever reply ready.

Richard's expression was warm, but there was uncertainty in it too. He could have withdrawn his hand. Mara knew that. He'd been perfectly capable of refusing her advances the previous evening. But he hadn't moved.

"You're very handsome, you know," she said quietly.

Richard gave a small, almost embarrassed laugh. "That's very kind of you."

"I'm serious."

"I know."

"Do you?"

He met her eyes. "Yes, Mara. I do."

The playful atmosphere between them had changed. Mara could hear the water splashing behind them and somebody laughing near the bar, but those ordinary sounds suddenly seemed very far away. She moved a little closer.

Richard watched her, his expression growing more serious. "You're making this rather difficult," he murmured.

Mara's heart gave a little leap. "Making what difficult?"

He smiled faintly. "Being sensible."

For a moment, she simply stared at him. Then she smiled too. "Perhaps you don't always have to be."

Richard looked down at their hands. "I think, in this particular situation, I probably do."

Mara's smile faded slightly, although she didn't release him. "Because of Hugh?"

"Among other things."

"Richard, Hugh and I…"

"I know you're upset with him," Richard interrupted gently. "But that doesn't mean you should make decisions you'll regret tomorrow."

Mara frowned. "You think I'd regret spending time with you?"

"No." His answer came immediately. "Not for a moment."

That surprised her.

Richard looked at her again. "I've enjoyed spending time with you enormously. Probably rather more than I ought to have."

Mara's fingers tightened around his. "Then what's the problem?"

Richard gave a rueful smile. "You're asking a very complicated question, Sugar Plum."

"Maybe I don't want a complicated answer."

"I'm afraid that's the only kind I've got."

She studied him for several seconds. Then, slowly, she released his hand.

Richard felt an unexpected pang of disappointment.

Mara leaned back against her lounger, looking towards the pool. She wasn't angry exactly, but she was frustrated. Richard seemed perfectly happy to compliment her, tease her and even admit that he enjoyed her company, yet whenever she tried to discover what those things meant, he retreated behind his good manners.

It was maddening. And, somehow, it only made her want him more.

Richard watched her quietly for a moment before reaching for his sunglasses. "Have I upset you?"

"No."

"Mara."

She sighed. "A little."

"I'm sorry."

She turned towards him. "Do you know what I find frustrating about you?"

"I suspect you're about to tell me."

"You're always so careful."

Richard considered that. "I've generally found it a useful quality."

"Well, perhaps sometimes I'd like you to be a little less careful."

He looked at her for a long moment."Perhaps sometimes I would too."

Mara's breath caught.

Richard seemed almost surprised by his own admission. He glanced towards the pool, then back at her, as though deciding whether he ought to say anything more. Finally, he reached across the narrow space between their loungers and took her hand. This time, he was the one who initiated it.

Mara stared down at their joined hands, then looked up at him. "Richard?"

He gave her a small smile. "You're not the only one who's found the last twenty-four hours rather confusing."

For once, Mara was speechless.

Richard's thumb moved gently across the back of her hand. There was nothing hurried about the gesture, nothing demanding. Yet it felt unmistakably different from the affectionate pats and reassuring embraces she'd known throughout her life. He wasn't treating her like a child. He was treating her like a woman whose company he enjoyed, and whose feelings he was trying very hard not to hurt.

Mara moved closer, turning on her lounger to face him. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"That kiss earlier. When I gave you your credit card back."

Richard smiled. "Ah. The unfortunate accident."

She laughed softly. "Yes. That."

"What about it?"

"Did you really think it was an accident?"

Richard regarded her with amused disbelief. "Good heavens, Sugar Plum. Give me a little credit."

Mara burst out laughing. "I knew you knew!"

"I suspected."

"And you didn't say anything?"

"I thought I'd spare you the embarrassment."

"How very noble."

"I do try."

Mara was still smiling when Richard lifted her hand slightly and pressed a gentle kiss against her knuckles. She stopped laughing. It was an old-fashioned gesture, almost absurdly gentlemanly, and entirely characteristic of Richard. But the deliberate way he'd done it, without being prompted or tricked, made her heart beat considerably faster.

He lowered her hand but didn't release it. "There," he said softly. "Now we're even."

Mara looked at him. "Not quite."

Before Richard could ask what she meant, she leaned forward and kissed him. This time, there was no pretence of an accident. Her lips met his gently, and for one brief moment Richard remained completely still. Then, almost despite himself, he returned the kiss. It lasted only a few seconds. But it was enough. When Mara drew back, Richard was looking at her with an expression she'd never seen before.

Neither spoke immediately. Then Richard exhaled slowly. "Well," he said.

Mara smiled. "Well."

He shook his head, although there was a reluctant smile on his face. "That was probably a mistake."

"Probably," Mara agreed.

"You don't seem particularly concerned."

"I'm not."

Richard glanced down at their still-joined hands. "Mara, I meant what I said about being careful."

"I know."

"And we really ought to talk about this."

"I know that too."

He looked up. "Then why are you smiling?"

Mara's smile widened. "Because you kissed me back."

Richard opened his mouth, apparently intending to offer some sensible explanation. Then he thought better of it. For once, Richard Arnett had absolutely nothing to say.

Mara laughed delightedly and settled back against her lounger, still holding his hand.

They'd crossed a line, and both of them knew it. Whatever happened next, neither could pretend that the attraction between them existed only in Mara's imagination.

And Richard, who'd spent the previous evening congratulating himself on his self-control, was beginning to realise that resisting Sugar Plum might be considerably harder than he'd ever imagined.