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‘He’s a
businessman,
for heaven’s sake.’
    Tycoons Taryn had seen on television or in the news were sleek, well dressed and well manicured. The thought of them being dangerous anywhere but in the boardroom was laughable.
    So what made her foolish mind fix on that word to describe Cade Peredur?
    Instinct, she guessed,
    And Cade had certainly
looked
dangerous when he was scotching those greedy tongues of flame. He’d used her wet towel like a weapon, flailing it with an economy of movement that showed great strength as well as determination.
    Also, there had been something in his manner when he approached Jason that had indicated a formidable male threat—one Jason had recognised.
    OK, Cade was dangerous, as any strong man could be. But he was in complete control of all that strength. And none of it was directed at her.
    So she didn’t have to worry or feel intimidated.
    Images of his powerful body filled her mind. Water-slicked and gleaming, every long muscle lovingly delineated, he’d stolen her breath away.
    Yes, her decision to see no more of him had been the right one. She glanced down, frowning at the sight of the tight fist pressed against her heart, and let her hand drop, spreading out the fingers before shaking them so they relaxed.
    Plenty of women must have felt the same surgingchemistry when they set eyes on Cade Peredur. Some of them would have ended up in his bed.
    ‘Lots, probably,’ she said aloud to a fantail flirting its tail from a nearby bush as it kept its beady black eyes fixed on her.
    Smiling, she confided, ‘Men like Cade Peredur—men who positively
seethe
with masculine confidence—al-ways know they’ve got what it takes to make a woman happy in bed.’
    Unless she was inherently cold …
    But not one of his lovers had managed to make their liaison permanent.
    And when—
if
—she ever fell in love properly, with a man who’d understand her fear of sex and help her overcome it—she wanted permanence, a lifelong alliance like that between her parents. She wanted trust and equality and a family, laughter and commitment and security.
    None of which immediately brought Cade to mind.
    ‘So forget about this love business,’ she told the fan-tail. ‘Because I don’t think the sort of man I want exists in this world.’
    And she’d keep away from any more chance meetings with Cade Peredur. Next time she was struck by the urge to go to the beach she’d slake it with a shower. She wouldn’t have to keep it up for long; he had to have things to do and places to go—empires to run, worlds to conquer, women to overwhelm—so he’d soon leave New Zealand.
    And, once he was gone, her life would return to normal. No chills, no cheap thrills when those hard blue eyes met hers, no shivering awareness of his sheer physical impact …
    For several moments more she stood looking downat the blackened landscape, frowning at the ugly stain across the grass and the rank smell of incinerated vegetation.
    Then she stiffened her spine and got into the car and drove back to the sleepout she rented in an orchard a few kilometres from the village. Basic but comfortable, it boasted a miniature kitchen and a slightly larger bathroom, and the wide terrace outside made up for the lack of space within.
    Clean once more, and in fresh clothes, she picked up an apple from the bowl on the bench and dropped into the lounger to demolish the fruit, carefully not thinking of Cade Peredur.
    She needed to find work. She’d quite enjoyed selling souvenirs to tourists, but the summer wave of visitors through the village had receded, leaving her behind.
    Jobless and drifting …
    Ever since Peter had killed himself, an aching emptiness made her question the value of her existence.
    ‘Time to stop it,’ she said out loud, and made a sudden resolution.
    Drifting was for slackers, for losers.
    It was more than time to find some direction to her life. Before she’d gone to the United Kingdom, she’d enjoyed her work in