On the third day, though, he arrived early afternoon, told them he'd be staying overnight and that Alex would be working with him the next day. He sweetened that news with an offer to take them out on the water.
There was a sleek, fast-looking little boat pulled up on a concrete slipway at one end of the waterfront.
Stan, who was not only car jockey on social occasions but gardener and boat wrangler, released it into the water and brought it up to the jetty. Alex had been very tempted to leave Nicky and Max alone on this expedition, but when Nicky inevitably refused to leave Nemo behind, then made it plain he wouldn't go without Alex either, she had no choice.
'This is exactly what I didn't want to happen,' she murmured to Max as she climbed into the boat.
'I think he may be nervous,' Max replied and turned to Nicky. 'Have you ever been in a boat before?'
'No,' the little boy replied. 'Is it going to tip over if I move to the side?'
'No. Look.' Max moved to the side himself, and Nicky relaxed after a moment. 'But we will wear life jackets because that's the law for kids and it's not a bad idea for adults,' Max added.
'What about Nemo?' Nicky enquired.
'Haven't got one for him.' Max grinned. 'So we'll leave his lead on and tie it to this bar.'
A few minutes later they cruised away from the jetty at a sedate speed. Half an hour later, Nicky had released his vice-like grip of Alex's hand and was standing beside Max in front of the centre console, thoroughly enjoying himself as he steered the boat and the spray divided under the bow and wind whistled through their hair.
Alex patted Nemo, who was quite overwhelmed for once in his life, and watched father and son. She could only approve of Max's approach to Nicky. He didn't make a fuss of the boy, but he'd obviously awakened Nicky's interest. In fact she'd seen Nicky look at him with a tinge of awe last afternoon when Max had come home and had spent the couple of hours before Nicky's dinnertime showing him how to fly a kite.
He'd brought the kite home with him and they'd gone to the beach, all bundled up, to take advantage of a stiffish breeze.
It was not only Nicky who'd studied Max with a tinge of awe as he'd effortlessly managed to get the kite soaring; she herself had, although for very different reasons.
Nicky had made his sentiments plain when he'd asked Max if he would one day be big and strong and able to fly kites.
'Sure,' Max had replied easily and ruffled the little boy's hair. 'But you'll be able to fly kites sooner than that. Here, have a go.'
Whereas she'd had to acknowledge that the sight of his tall, athletic body had sent a shiver down her spine, not of cold or fear, but desire …
When they got home from their spin in the boat, a glowing Nicky was to find another treat in store: an early barbecue dinner for them all. Stan had lit the barbecue on the lawn and Mrs Mills had set all the ingredients out. There were comfortable, cushioned basket chairs around a wooden table, and two more braziers, identical to the ones that lit the steps down to the jetty, had been lit.
'Steak, sausages, seafood-take your pick,' Max said.
'Sausages!' Nicky chose immediately. 'On bread with tomato sauce. Yippee!'
'You're easy to please,' Max said and grinned. 'Alex?'
She chose steak and some fish and they talked desultorily as he cooked the food with Nicky playing happily around them as the stars came out and the wind dropped. Mrs Mills might have thoughtfully provided a typical small boy's favourite fare, but she'd also provided a green salad and new potatoes drizzled with garlic butter for the adults as well as warm, crusty rolls.
And when Nicky showed signs of flagging, a bit earlier than usual and before Alex and Max had finished their meals, she came to take him to bed.
'Thanks, that was nice,' he said to Max.
'My pleasure, Nicky. Goodnight.'
'Goodnight … ' Nicky hesitated and Alex held her breath as she got the feeling he was toying with what to call Max, but in the end he just said goodnight again. Alex watched him go off with Mrs Mills, then turned to Max. 'I don't think calling you Dad is far off,' she said quietly.
He raised his eyebrows. 'It hasn't been that long.'
No, Alex found herself thinking, but then it doesn't take long-less than a week in my case …
She moved a little restlessly in her chair. 'No, but I get the feeling he's impressed.'
She helped herself to some more of Mrs Mills' delicious green bean salad. 'How's it going?'
'Back at the ranch, as they say?' He smiled a shade grimly. 'Some tough wheeling and dealing is taking place, all couched in impeccably polite terms. But tomorrow should be relaxing. It's the golf day here on the Coast at Sanctuary Cove.'
Alex wondered why he sounded sceptical about the beneficial aspects of a day's golf, but she said nothing.
'Do you play golf?' he queried.
'Yes. My father was quite a-well, a mad keen golfer. Not that I've played for ages.'
She looked at him warily all of a sudden. 'I'm not expected to actually play tomorrow?'
'No. You can drive the buggy. It's only men-playing, that is.' He pushed his plate away and stretched. 'I can't think of anything worse.'
'Don't you play golf?' Alex enquired with a frown. 'If not, why-?'
'I play off a three handicap; like your father I can be quite mad and quite keen on my golf, but for some reason I'm not looking forward to tomorrow. What I really like is to be able to concentrate exclusively on my game.'
Alex studied him. He was dressed casually again and his hair was ruffled. He looked anything but a high-flying executive at the moment, but she could picture him on a golf course, driving the ball with flair and putting with precision. Her lips quirked as she said, 'How did it get onto the agenda, then?'
'It was requested, that's how. And it didn't seem a bad idea at the time.'
'Would it be impossible to withdraw?'
He cast her a speaking look. 'No, but I won't be withdrawing.'
'You could be tired,' she suggested. 'It's been-hectic.'
He stretched out his legs and clasped his hands behind his head. 'Hectic,' he repeated. 'Not easy to relax, certainly.'
'How do you relax?' Alex asked.
'Wine, women and song,' he replied flippantly and turned his head to study her reaction.
She looked away awkwardly and he laughed with-not that she was to know it-selfdirected irony. 'You're quite safe with me, Alex.'
'I wish you wouldn't say that-' she scowled, suddenly fired from awkward to annoyed '-with quite so much conviction!'
'I thought it would be reassuring.'
'It's more than that,' she stated. 'I mean, I don't mind being reassured, but I do object to being made to feel like the last woman on the planet you would find desirable.'
'I didn't mean to make you feel like that. Come to think of it, I've paid you some extravagant compliments and made it clear you looked sexy enough for most men-'
'In the most backhanded way,' Alex broke in.
He sat up. 'Well, what would you like me to do?'
Alex stared at him, her outrage still plain to be seen, but it was also slipping away fast …
'Oh, dear,' she said, looking down the barrel of having made a fool of herself, not to mention quite possibly giving herself away. 'That may not have come out quite right. Is there any possibility you could understand it was nothing personal?'
'Nothing?' he queried.
'Maybe just my vanity,' she conceded, after accusing herself mentally of being a liar as well as a fool.
He smiled and watched her for a moment, and thought how young, troubled and essentially innocent she looked. She was also probably the least vain female he knew, yet it was only human to resent being told she was 'quite safe' in that context, and curiously lovable.
As for wine, women and song, not that she'd ever know it, but it might not have been so far off the mark. Well, a nightcap maybe, some favourite music in the den, a girl in his arms on the wide, comfortable settee, to relax him from his highpressure business life. This girl?
Especially this girl, he thought with an indrawn breath. How sweet would it be to initiate her into the rituals of love-making? To make her gasp with desire and focus those beautiful eyes solely on him, to very slowly bring alive all her most sensitive erogenous zones. To possess that slender figure, those stunning legs and to be the one to meld the different elements of her personality, her sense of humour, that keen intellect and the scholarly side of her into warm, lovely womanhood …
He gritted his teeth suddenly and forced his mind back to her last remark. 'Uh-