Out of Hours...Her Ruthless Boss. Кейт Хьюит
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of the day, she caught her hair up in a loose bun, wisps curling around her face.
Back in the bedroom, she saw that Cormac had changed into khaki trousers and a dark green shirt that matched his eyes, deepening them to the colour of the jungle.
‘Don’t forget your swimming costume,’ he said, and Lizzie mentally cringed at the thought of the jade bikini the boutique assistant had chosen for her—two tiny scraps of shiny material and a bit of string. Suddenly the thought of Cormac—never mind anyone else—seeing her in it made her feel horribly exposed and vulnerable.
Reluctantly, she fished the costume out of her suitcase and packed it in a canvas bag with some sun-cream and a hat.
Outside the villa, two Jeeps had been brought around the drive to take them all to the building site. Hilda and Jan were in the first one, and Lizzie saw Geoffrey and Lara snag the back seats of their hosts’ Jeep, no doubt in an attempt to ingratiate themselves with the Hassells.
Dan offered to drive the second Jeep, as he was familiar with driving on the right-hand side of the road, and Cormac graciously agreed.
Lizzie managed a smile as he slid into the backseat next to her, his arm going round her shoulders in an easy, thoughtless manner that she knew had to be cunningly calculated.
She wanted it to be real. The realisation hurt. She’d known this weekend would be dangerous. Cormac would be dangerous.
She hadn’t realised she would be dangerous. Her body, her heart. Her mind, her soul. Unbending, unfurling. Wanting. More.
Wanting what she’d never had.
‘Careful, Chandler,’ Cormac murmured in her ear, his breath feathering her cheek. ‘You’re not looking very happy with me right now.’
Wendy glanced back at them, smiling, and Lizzie forced herself to smile back and pat Cormac’s thigh in a perfunctory way.
Cormac trapped her hand with his own and kept it there, splayed on his thigh, too high on his leg for her comfort. She averted her head, unable to stomach the indecent intimacy.
Dan drove the Jeep out of the villa’s landscaped grounds, following Jan along a paved track that cut through the dense jungle. Lizzie could hear the chattering of monkeys and macaws even over the sound of the engine.
After a quarter of an hour, they broke through the dense foliage and came to a rocky outcrop high over the water. Lizzie took in an awed breath, for the sight of the Caribbean shimmering with sunlight to the horizon was still stunning to her.
Cormac heard the little indrawn breath and slanted her a knowing smile. ‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ he said softly, and for once Lizzie felt he wasn’t mocking her.
He even released her fingers and she dropped her hand into her own lap, feeling strangely, stupidly bereft.
They parked the Jeeps where the paved track ended in a pile of dirt and Jan led the party across the rocks to a flattened area that had already been set up with a table sheltered from the blazing sun by a tent.
Lizzie could feel Cormac’s tension, his energy and excitement as the men sat down to discuss blueprints, dreams and designs.
Hilda led the women down a path through the rocks to a strip of white sandy beach below, and Lizzie saw that a separate vehicle had brought all the amenities for a relaxed day at the beach.
Spread out among folding chairs and towels, sheltered by beach umbrellas, Lizzie tried to relax and enjoy the sun and sand. She felt as if she were drawn as tight as a bow string, every sense and nerve on alert.
‘They won’t be long,’ Hilda said with a smile. ‘Jan has already seen all the blueprints, you know. This weekend was simply a way of meeting the men behind the designs. That’s what is important to us.’
And who was the man behind the design? Lizzie wondered. What front would he present to Jan? She’d no doubt he had something worked out, a façade to maintain. Had he ever shown who he really was to anyone? Had he ever been that vulnerable?
The idea was laughable.
Lizzie glanced around. Lara had already stretched out on a towel, glistening with suntan oil, in a bikini that made Lizzie’s own skimpy one look modest in comparison.
In contrast, Wendy was sitting on a folding chair, one hand on her bump, looking hot and uncomfortable.
Lizzie smiled at her. ‘Can I fetch you a drink?’
Wendy smiled gratefully. ‘Water would be great.’
Lizzie found a bottle of water in one of the coolers and handed it to Wendy. ‘A bit hot, isn’t it,’ she said sympathetically, and Wendy nodded.
‘Yes. Dan didn’t want me to come, as I’m only two months from my due date, but I insisted. This commission is so important to him. He’s been struggling in a large firm, and this could really be his chance to break out.’ She bit her lip. ‘Of course, I’m sure it’s important to Cormac, too…and to Geoffrey…’
‘I’m sure every one of our husbands could design an amazing resort,’ Lizzie said a bit lamely, for she was conscious of another fresh pang of guilt.
If Cormac hadn’t insisted on his own way—and finding his own wife—men like Dan White, good, steady, honest men, would have a better chance at gaining such a prestigious commission.
If she hadn’t agreed…
She was as much to blame as Cormac. No matter what he’d threatened her with, she could have said something. Done something.
She’d simply wanted an adventure too much.
And now she’d had enough, even as she wanted more. There was a part of her that longed to run back to safety, to the shelter of her former life. And another part—a treacherous, tempting part—wanted this. A life. Cormac.
She smiled again at Wendy and returned to her seat, trying to involve herself in Hilda’s cheerful conversation about the resort and its plans.
The words washed over her, soothing sounds, no more than white noise. Her mind buzzed with questions. Questions about herself, about what she wanted.
Cormac.
What was she thinking? What did she want?
Change your mind?
No.
Finally, the men left the rocky outcrop. Lizzie watched Cormac walk over to her, smiling easily although his eyes looked blank, preoccupied.
‘How was it?’ she asked in a murmur. She glanced at Geoffrey, who was looking sulky, and Dan, who greeted Wendy with more concern than he’d ever shown about winning the commission.
‘Fine.’ Cormac raked a hand through his hair. ‘Jan likes my ideas, but Stears keeps making remarks and I can tell they’re starting to hit home.’
‘He knows, doesn’t he?’ Lizzie said, fear plunging icily in her middle.
‘Of course he knows. He can’t prove anything, though.’ His eyes rested on Lizzie for a moment and she felt their warmth, a radiant heat that matched the sun.
They both burned.
‘We’ll just have to be more convincing,’ he said lazily. He pulled her towards him and she was too surprised to resist as he gave her a quick kiss. She knew it was calculated, a staged gesture, but it didn’t feel like it.
For one blazing moment she was conscious only of his lips on hers, hard and warm. He pulled away and there was no mocking laughter in his eyes, no sardonic knowledge. ‘Why don’t you get your swimming costume on?’ he suggested, and Lizzie opened her mouth to protest.
‘We’ll go snorkelling,’ Cormac continued. ‘The fish are amazing here.’
A treacherous thrill shot through her. She wanted to spend time with Cormac, she realised.