Her defenses were hopelessly inadequate. Not since the morning of her nineteenth birthday, when Tony had failed to turn up for their wedding, had Neale felt so disturbed by a man.

Her boss, luxury-hotel developer Lawton Baillie, was even more intimidating on board his yacht in the Caribbean than he'd been in his London boardroom. Although he obviously delighted in the chase, Neale knew instinctively he would be satisfied with nothing less than total surrender.

But if she ever gave in to him, she'd never be able to live without him, and for Neale, that would mean either ecstasy or devastation.