‘Yeah. I took to programming like a duck to water and never looked back. I never did get my higher school certificate. I refused to sit for exams. I was a rebellious beggar back then. But it didn’t matter in the long run. I made it by myself.’

‘That you did,’ she said in a way that made him feel quite proud. ‘But what happened to your brother, Mike?’

Mike grimaced. Women! They had to know the ins and outs of everything, didn’t they? They couldn’t let sleeping dogs lie.

‘He died. When he was eight. Meningitis. His foster parents didn’t recognise the symptoms till it was too late. They thought he had the flu. Poor kid never stood a chance.’

‘That’s terribly sad, Mike. I’m so sorry.’

‘Now you know why I don’t want to be responsible for a child’s life. I couldn’t bear it if I was a bad father.’

‘But you wouldn’t be. You’d be an exceptional father, for that very reason. You’d care more than most men.’

‘Would I?’ He could just as easily be a chip off the old block.

‘Yes, you would,’ she insisted.

Her arms wrapping tightly around him brought the most incredibly moving emotion. If only her seeming belief in him were real. If only he could trust it, and himself.

‘Would you have a baby with a man like me, Natalie?’ he heard himself asking her, his voice still holding scepticism. ‘Would you, really?’

Her lips, which had been planting tantalising kisses over his back, stilled.

Mike could just imagine what was going through her head.

‘I might,’ she said at last.

Yeah…right.

He twisted round to look into her eyes. ‘You’re just saying that.’

‘No,’ she denied. ‘I’m not. Do you want me to have your baby, Mike?’

His stomach swirled with a sudden nausea. ‘Good God, no,’ he denied gruffly. ‘What I want is for you to stay with me after we leave this yacht. I want you to come live with me, not as my wife. As my woman.’

Her eyes searched his. ‘For how long?’

‘For as long as you like.’

She frowned. ‘I can’t promise to stay for ever, Mike.’

Mike knew exactly what she was saying. One day, she’d want more than he was willing to give her.

But that one day wasn’t today, he thought with ruthless resolve as he pushed her back onto the bed.

‘How long have we got before we have to get dressed for pre-dinner drinks?’ he asked huskily as he wrapped her legs around him and thrust into her.

‘About an hour,’ she replied, moaning softly when he set up a powerful rhythm.

An hour. A day. A lifetime.

There would never be enough time, Mike realised on alternate waves of ecstasy and despair. Never!

CHAPTER FIFTEEN