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There wasn’t a beach, but a platform carved from the rock, in the centre of which was an extravagant picnic set-up.

Alex glanced at his watch. ‘Rafa won’t be in position yet. Have something to eat. Carlos and Bianca rose before dawn to lay this out. They think this our first breakfast as husband and wife and they’ve tried to make it as romantic as possible. It would be remiss not to appreciate the food at least.’

Tilly took in the plush cushions and soft throws artfully piled beneath twin broad umbrellas and the gleaming platters of food kept fresh on ice and beneath domes. ‘They’ve done a beautiful job. Oh, I feel awkward,’ she admitted.

‘Forget feelings,’ he advised again brutally. ‘Eat so your mood improves.’

Despite irritation at being ordered, Tilly couldn’t resist the miniature pancakes. She drizzled caramel sauce on one and ate it. ‘Okay, that’s divine. Carlos can cook.’ She picked up another and held it between her teeth as she shimmied out of her linen trousers.

Alex stood at a distance, fists on his hips as he glared at her. ‘You’re going to burn.’

She already was from the flash of heat in his eyes. She’d misread it, surely? ‘Aren’t you going to have any food?’

‘No.’ He twisted away. ‘I’m going to swim.’

‘But what about…?’

Too late. He swung his arms and leapt. She watched his perfectly executed dive into the deep blue water and knew he’d done that a million times before.

So much for photographs, but fine, he could swim, she would feast. But she avoided the champagne. While Alex got in enough distance for triathlon training, she snacked until she was replete and then lay back in the shade beneath the umbrellas. It was still early but already warm and she could easily doze.

‘Don’t fall asleep,’ he called from the water. ‘We still have a performance to get through.’

‘You would look bad if you’ve bored me to sleep.’

‘They’d all just assume I’d worn you out overnight.’

Oh. No. Not thinking about that.

He climbed out of the water then dropped onto the rug beside her, sprinkling her with cold droplets as he did so.

She shivered. ‘Ugh, I hate you.’

Amusement smoked in his eyes and the flash of his smile was devilish and hot. ‘I know you do, but while you’re sparkling with annoyance, I’m going to pull you into my arms.’

‘To show the world we’re blissfully happy?’

The thing was she wasn’t unhappy. Sparring with him was almost fun. Since the midnight fight, the poisonous snark had softened to banter. In fact, despite their clashes, she’d also laughed more in the last day than she had in the last two years. Which was tragic.

‘Where’s your photographer?’ Her awkwardness resurged.

‘On a dinghy in the sea at the only point you can see through the arch. He won’t release anything I don’t approve.’

‘Do I get to approve it too?’

He leaned over her. ‘Of course. You have final say.’

Oh. But she didn’t want to see them, nor did she want Alex to be this human and likeable. ‘We’re taking fake photos because of a fake video…’

‘Yes. Just pretend, Tilly. A performance.’ He huffed a light breath. ‘But even so, I need to hear you say yes to what I suggest. If I don’t, I won’t do it. You understand?’

Her throat tightened, her imagination flaring. What was he going to do? How far were they taking this? Why was she heating up just from that husky edge?

‘Need to hear it.’ He shoved his hair back from his face.

‘Yes.’ Could her heart please quit thundering?

He’d just told her this was a performance. With Alex. Alex, to whom she’d always…reacted.