Читать книгу The Duke's Proposal - Sophie Weston - Страница 8

THE tall, lithe man leaned on the balustrade and looked out to sea. The simple cottage was hidden away in the hotel grounds, a long way from the hustle and bustle.

He gave a deep sigh of pleasure.

Night. Warmth. A breeze, soft as a woman’s breath, across his skin.

Voices wafted over the murmurous water but he was alone. Just as he always was.

So? That was what he had chosen all those years ago. That was what he had stuck with. You make your choices. Then you live by them.

But sometimes, on a perfect night like this, when the air was heavy with the scents of leaves and the sea, he found himself wondering. What if it had been different? How would it feel if she were here with him?

‘“The not impossible she”,’ quoted Niall Blackthorne aloud, mocking himself.

Across the bay, the entrance to Casino Caraibe Royale was lit up like Las Vegas. Already people were arriving in their hired limousines. Pretty soon the steel band would start.

Party time, thought Niall.

He shook himself out of his uncharacteristic reverie and stretched lazily in the gathering dark. He was shirtless, his tanned legs bare under the disreputable denim shorts. At nightfall the air was still warm along the skin. It was only later that the wind off the sea would really get up. And he would go to work.

He grinned, thinking about it. Showered and smooth-shaven, his hair gleaming blue-black in the moonlight, his tuxedo tailored to perfection, he would drive over to the casino. He would circulate among the tourists and the professional gamblers, aloof and mysterious, and play blackjack and roulette and poker.

Sometimes he won, and people envied him. Sometimes he lost, and they marvelled at his cool indifference. But either way they kept their distance. Even the women who fancied themselves in love with the enigmatic gambler never stayed. He never wanted them to.

Now, just for a moment, in the hot, quiet night, he could pretend that he was the beach bum he looked like. There were compensations for being alone, he reminded himself wryly. No woman would tolerate his beach bum side for long. Even if he wanted her to.

And of course he didn’t. His grin died. Soberly, he looked at the shifting starlit ocean.

Face the truth, Niall.

He was a one-woman man. And the one woman belonged to someone else.