Out of Hours...Her Ruthless Boss: Ruthless Boss, Hired Wife / Unworldly Secretary, Untamed Greek / Her Ruthless Italian Boss. Кейт Хьюит
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felt wonderful to be wanted.
Back in the room, Lizzie stood by the door while Cormac began to undress, unself-conscious as always. The shutters had been closed, the bed turned down, the soft light from a lamp casting shadows on the tiled floor.
Lizzie watched him shrug off his shirt, the desire from their kiss still pulsing through her. She leaned against the door, one hand on the knob as if she would flee from the room, from what she was feeling.
‘Going somewhere?’ Cormac asked, one eyebrow raised. He was bare-chested, his hands at his belt buckle.
Lizzie closed her eyes, then snapped them open. ‘No…but we need to talk.’
‘All right. Talk.’
‘I’m not going to sleep with you, Cormac.’ Lizzie blushed, lifted her chin. Cormac simply waited, his hands still at his buckle. ‘I can’t do this. I can’t pretend that far.’
His gaze travelled over her slowly, resting on her still aching breasts. His mouth curved in a knowing smile. ‘I don’t think you were pretending all that much.’
Lizzie’s blush intensified; her whole body felt hot. ‘You’re right, I wasn’t,’ she agreed. ‘Before this weekend, I never gave you a thought that way, but now…’ She shrugged. ‘I’ve come to realise I’m attracted to you. As you well know. And,’ she added defiantly, ‘you are to me.’
‘Yes, I am. As I told you before.’ He walked towards her and Lizzie’s hand tightened on the doorknob.
‘Don’t.’
‘Don’t what?’
‘Don’t come closer.’
He paused, took a little step. ‘What are you scared of, Lizzie? Me? Or yourself?’
‘Both,’ she admitted in a raw whisper, and he spread his hands wide.
‘I won’t hurt you.’
Lizzie choked on a laugh of pure disbelief. ‘Cormac, all you’ll do is hurt me.’
‘It would feel very nice at the time,’ he murmured. His eyes raked over her slowly, purposefully, his mouth curling into a smile of seductive promise.
Lizzie shook her head, knowing she was convincing herself as much as him. ‘I’m not into casual affairs. I’m not that…’
‘Sort of girl?’ he finished. ‘But I’m sure you could become one.’ He paused. ‘Who knows what could happen, if we give it a chance?’
‘Are you saying we might actually have a relationship?’ Lizzie said in a voice ringing with disbelief…and damning hope.
Cormac shrugged. He took another step closer and his fingers trailed temptingly down her bare arm. ‘I’m saying let’s see what happens.’
‘I don’t want to.’
He laughed—a rich, indulgent sound. ‘Yes, you do.’
Lizzie closed her eyes. ‘You could seduce me, Cormac. I know you could. I…I find you hard to resist,’ she admitted painfully, her face on fire. ‘But I’m asking you not to. I’d hate myself in the morning…and I’d hate you. That can hardly be good for your commission.’
He stilled, then smiled, letting his fingers skim across her shoulder, over her breast, his smile deepening as he felt her react. He tilted her chin, met her tortured gaze with light, laughing eyes. ‘Let me know if you change your mind.’
‘I won’t.’
He brushed her lips in a kiss that still managed to sear her soul. ‘You keep telling yourself that, Chandler. Maybe one day you’ll come to believe it.’
He dropped his hand and, as if released from a prison, Lizzie stumbled backwards. She grabbed her pyjamas, clutching them to her chest as she escaped into the bathroom to change.
She would keep telling herself that, she thought fiercely. It was the only way to make sure it stayed true.
Cormac stretched in bed and laced his fingers behind his head. His pose was relaxed, calculatingly so, yet a restlessness surged through his body.
A restlessness caused by both desire and dissatisfaction.
Lizzie wanted him. He knew that. And he wanted her…more than he’d care to admit.
It had started as a challenge; it had become a need.
If only she weren’t so innocent…so damn moral, clinging to her virtue like some outraged virgin…She couldn’t actually be a virgin, though. Could she? In this day and age? At twentyeight?
She came out of the bathroom, dressed in her pathetic, shabby pyjamas, and he found his lips twitching as he asked, ‘Hey, Chandler. Are you a virgin?’
Lizzie stiffened, betraying colour flooding her face. A twenty-eight-year-old virgin. No wonder she was playing so shy.
‘Even if I weren’t, I wouldn’t sleep with you,’ she said in a strangled voice, her chin held high, and he felt a reluctant flicker of admiration for her spirit.
‘But think how I could introduce you to the pleasures of the flesh,’ he murmured enticingly, just to see her flush intensify. ‘The pleasures of love.’
She threw him a hard, heated look. ‘But there’s no love involved, is there, Cormac?’
He leaned back against the pillows, eyeing her thoughtfully. ‘That’s what you want, is it? What are you going to do, wait until marriage?’
‘Maybe I will.’ Lizzie lifted her chin. ‘Or at least wait until I meet a man who loves and respects me,’ she finished with cold dignity. ‘You do neither.’ She slipped into bed, her back to him, a sad, hunched little form.
Cormac leaned over and tucked the sheet around her shoulder. ‘But you still want me,’ he whispered, and she stiffened under his fingers.
‘It means nothing.’
‘We’ll see about that.’ He dropped a kiss on the nape of her neck, felt the shudder run through her body, and smiled.
Cormac lay in the darkness, listening to the soft sounds of their breathing. His body still throbbed and ached from the kiss they’d already shared, from the knowledge of her body, inches from his, tense and still. He could smell her scent, lemony shampoo and something else that was just pure Lizzie.
Pure lust.
He hadn’t felt such desire—need—for a woman in a long time. Perhaps ever.
He thought of what she wanted…Love. Respect. His mouth twisted in sardonic acknowledgement. He supposed he could give her that.
If Lizzie were in love with him, Jan would never doubt they were a happy couple. Stears would stop his innuendoes, as well.
The commission would be his…and what an enjoyable way to achieve it.
His mind flicked over the possibilities, the problems. Lizzie would have to believe he was in love with her…for how long? How much? He needed to be believable. She could never suspect.
It was a risk, a challenge—the rush he craved. And now it was a need.
He smiled. He wanted her; he would have her, willing, in his arms.
Soon.
Lizzie sighed, and he could tell by her easy breathing that she was asleep. Knowing such respite was hours away for himself, he rolled quietly out of bed.
He took his sketchbook and pencils from his suitcase and, sitting in a chair opposite the bed, stared hard at the still, sleeping figure before he bent his head and began to draw.