Launching himself after his fast-disappearing host, Mike decided not to fight the situation any longer. He was here with Natalie for the next two days. He might as well enjoy them, as she said.

‘So what do you think of the Helsingers now?’ Mike asked as he rolled over and picked up the remote control of the huge plasma-screen television that was built into the wall opposite their bed.

It was their first actual conversation since they’d retired to their cabin after lunch. Talking had not been an immediate priority on Mike’s agenda, and, as usual, Natalie had been with him all the way.

When he rolled back, she snuggled up to him, running her fingers lightly through the smattering of curls that covered the centre of his chest.

‘I really liked them,’ she said. ‘Impossible not to. Impossible not to like this boat as well. Just look at the size of this cabin. And the sheer luxury.’

Mike could not help but agree. The walls were wood-panelled in a rich, warm-coloured wood, the gold carpet on the floor thicker than any carpet he’d ever come across. The bed was simply huge, and, whilst its green and gilt brocade quilt was currently on the floor, Mike had to admit that it would not have looked stray in a palace. Neither would the en suite bathroom, which was made entirely in black marble with gold fittings.

The furniture all looked like genuine antiques, but possibly they were reproduction. Only the lighting was modern, being recessed to give the illusion of more space. The walk-in robe-cum-dressing-room was surprisingly large, and already hung with all their clothes by the time they’d come down, making Mike glad that he’d gone shopping with Reece.

‘I like them too,’ Mike admitted, flicking through the satellite channels out of curiosity before turning the television off again. He had better things to do than watch TV.

‘You were a big hit with Chuck,’ he said, lying back and wallowing in the feel of Natalie’s hands on him.

‘That’s nice,’ she murmured.

‘He virtually told me the partnership’s mine.’

Natalie’s head shot up. ‘He did? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?’

‘Couldn’t. My tongue was otherwise occupied.’

She laughed, then levered herself over to lie on top of him, resting her chin on her hands, which she’d folded over his heart. ‘So it was. You know you’re very good at that. Not all men are, you know?’

‘Thank you for reminding me that I wasn’t your first.’

‘Don’t tell me you’re jealous.’

‘Would that be a surprise?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘Then prepare to be very surprised. Because I’m very jealous,’ he growled, rolling her over and pinning her underneath him. ‘Of every man you’ve ever been with.’

‘Don’t make it sound like a legion. I haven’t had all that many. Unlike you, Mike Stone.’