Free Guilty Passion by Laurey Bright Page B

found your sister-in-law wandering all alone on the beach.”
    Ethan gave him a nod and transferred his gaze to Celeste. “You look better,” he said.
    Jeff turned to her. “Have you been unwell?”
    Suddenly impatient, she said, “I’m perfectly all right. I’ll just go and wash my hands.”
    â€œLunch is ready,” Ethan called after her as she made for the stairs.
    She hadn’t realised it was so late. Mrs. Jackson must have left. When Celeste came downstairs again, Ethan was alone at the table on the terrace, but another plate was set opposite his, and he was helping himself to salad and French bread and sliced ham.
    As she paused in the doorway he said, “Come and eat.”
    â€œThank you. Jeff didn’t stay long, did he?”
    â€œDisappointed?”
    Suspecting a sneer in his voice, she looked up quickly as she took her chair, but he was spreading butter on a thick piece of bread. “He seemed nice,” she said. “You didn’t invite him for lunch?” There was plenty of food on the table, more than she and Ethan could possibly eat on their own.
    â€œI did,” Ethan said shortly. “He declined.”
    â€œI’m not surprised.”
    It was Ethan’s turn to look up, his brows sardonically raised.
    â€œYou seem to be in a bad mood,” Celeste said. “If it’s because you felt obliged to make lunch for me, you really needn’t have, you know.”
    â€œI’m not in a bad mood.”
    â€œAll right, you’re not. You’re just naturally surly.”
    He put down his fork and sat back. His mouth was grim, but a gleam of reluctant humour lit the dark eyes. “Okay,” he said. “I admit it. But it has nothing to do with making lunch for you.”
    â€œWork not going well?” she guessed.
    He paused, then picked up his fork again. “Not particularly. I take it
you
had an enjoyable morning.”
    That sarcasm was there again, but she decided to ignore it. “Yes, thank you. Jeff says you often skip lunch.”
    â€œI forget it sometimes. I eat when I’m hungry.”
    â€œI could make lunch for you,” she said, “and bring it to your workroom if you don’t want to stop.”
    â€œThanks, but you needn’t wait on me.”
    â€œBy the same token,” she argued, “
you
don’t need to wait on
me
. I can make my own lunch if I’m hungry. And I can cook dinner, if you like. I feel I should do something to earn my keep.”
    He shrugged. “If you insist. Sure you feel up to it?”
    â€œThere’s nothing wrong with me.”
    â€œSo you keep saying.” He regarded her thoughtfully.
    Celeste said, “Jeff says you attended a conference in Sydney.”
    â€œI attend quite a number of conferences.”
    â€œLast month. He seemed surprised that Alec and I hadn’t seen you then.”
    â€œI saw Alec. We had lunch together on the second day. He didn’t mention it?”
    â€œNo.” She didn’t look at him, concentrating on her salad. “He didn’t say anything about it.”
    A constrained silence fell, and Celeste pushed away her plate.
    â€œYou haven’t finished.”
    â€œI’ve had enough.” She stood. “Do you want a cup of coffee?”
    â€œNo, I’ll take one up to the workroom with me. What do you plan to do this afternoon?”
    â€œI have no particular plans. But I might swim. I haven’t been in the water yet.”
    â€œI’ll come with you.”
    â€œThere’s no need—”
    â€œI’m not sure I ought to allow you to go in alone.”
    â€œYou said it was safe.”
    â€œFor a normally healthy person and a strong swimmer, yes. Don’t argue, Celeste. Give me half an hour and we’ll go together.”
    After dealing with the dishes, Celeste pinned her hair up, covered most of her body with sunscreen and donned a one-piece