Flood Tide Read Online Free PDF

go.
    She saw bath oil and bath crystals. Ewart touched a switch and soft music filled the room.
    “Anything else you want?” he asked with mock servitude.
    “A cup of tea,” Reah suggested mischievously.
    She turned on the taps, tipped in a generous amount of bath oil and slipped out of her clothes. As she slid under the water, she surrendered herself to the bliss of its relaxing comfort. She dipped her head under, amazed that one minute she could be sitting on the pavement, lost in a big city, almost homeless, and the next having a bath in the most luxurious hotel in Florence.
    The door to the bathroom opened and Reah gasped, swiftly covering her breasts with a big sponge. He was standing in the doorway, staring at her.
    “Don’t panic. I can’t see anything interesting with all this steam. Besides, you are hardly my type. I prefer a more feminine woman. I couldn’t get any tea. Perhaps this will do instead.”
    She heard the chink of something being stood on the wide edge of the bath and then the door closed. It was a tall, tulip-shaped glass full of golden bubbles. She sniffed its delicate aroma, tasted the drink, her hand trembling. It could only be champagne. She took a few sips, trying to quell the jangling awareness of his gaze on her body. How dare he…if he came in again, she would throw something at him.
    She made sure the door was properly closed and soaped herself thoroughly…champagne in the bath. He certainly had style.
     
    When she eventually came out of the bathroom, cool, clean and a little drowsy, Ewart had gone. She trailed across to the windows, wrapped in yards of bath towel, and looked down into the piazza below. It was suffused with rosy afternoon sunlight: children playing with a ball, nuns walking in pairs, old men sitting on the pavement watching the world go by. She could smell rosemary and lavender from the enclosed garden below.
    She yawned, wrapping the towel more firmly round her body. The big bed was soft and inviting. She turned back the cover and pulled over a plump linen-cased pillow. She would just close her eyes for five minutes.
    She awoke when she felt a weight tip down the side of the bed. Sleepily she opened her eyes, then quickly retrieved the bath towel and pulled it up round her shoulders.
    Ewart’s eyes were dark and expressionless, roving over her bare skin, her young face glowing with sleep. The tumbled mane of hair was still damp, and there was nothing she could do to conceal the rise and fall of her small breasts beneath the towel.
    The sheer arrogance of his nearness as he sat on the side of the bed made Reah frighteningly aware of his strength. He knew it too.
    Reah felt her heart quicken. Instinctively she drew back, fighting down her panic-stricken thoughts. What a fool she was, to have let herself get into such a vulnerable position. Seduced by one glass of champagne.
    “I offered you the use of my bath, not my bed.”
    The voice was mocking. She expected any moment to be fighting him off but he did not move.
    She turned her head away, hiding her fear. Her pulse quickened. She felt his mouth on the skin of her bare shoulder. It was a kiss as light as a butterfly’s touch. She felt her body tremble, remembering that other kiss.
    She was appalled by her own yearning weakness as that chaste kiss sent a warning quiver through her limbs. She struggled for composure, refusing to meet his speculative eyes.
    Suddenly Ewart got up and walked over to the wall wardrobe. He began to pull out the hangers, piling shirts, slacks and jackets over his arm.
    “What are you doing?” she asked.
    “You can stay here,” he said. “You can have my room. I’m moving into a suite at the back which has just become vacant.”
    “No, thank you,” said Reah, sitting bolt upright, clutching the towel to her. “I don’t want your room.”
    “I prefer the suite,” said Ewart, as if he had not heard a word of what she had said. “It’s at the back and it’ll be quieter. I’ll