Love Islands: Red-Hot Sunsets. Jane Porter

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Love Islands: Red-Hot Sunsets - Jane Porter


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as he did. ‘On a two week holiday, probably with those bodyguards of yours who brought me from the office, where I won’t be allowed to do anything at all because I’ll be minus my mobile phone and minus my computer. And, when you’re done with your deal, you might just pop back and collect me, provided I’ve survived the experience.’

      Lucas clicked his tongue impatiently. ‘There’s no need to be so dramatic.’ He raked his fingers through his hair and debated whether he should have taken a slightly different approach.

      Nope. He had taken the only possible approach. It just so happened that he was dealing with someone whose feet were not planted on the ground the way his were.

      ‘The bodyguards won’t be there.’

      ‘No, I suppose it would be a little chancy to stuff me away with men I don’t know. Not that it’ll make a scrap of difference whether your henchmen are male or female. I’ll still be locked away like a prisoner in a cell with the key thrown away.’

      Lucas inhaled deeply and slowly, and hung on to a temper that was never, ever lost. ‘No henchmen,’ he intoned through gritted teeth. ‘You’re going to be with me. I wouldn’t trust anyone else to keep an eye on you.’

      Not without being mauled to death in the process.

      ‘With you?’ Shot through with an electrifying awareness of him, her heart sped up, sending the blood pulsing hotly through her veins and making it difficult to catch her breath. Trapped somewhere with him? And yet the thought, which should have filled her with unremitting horror, kick-started a dark, insurgent curiosity that frankly terrified her.

      ‘I have no intention of having any interaction with you at all. You will simply be my responsibility for a fortnight and I will make sure that no contact is made with any outside parties until the deal is signed, sealed and delivered. And please don’t tell me the prospect of being without a mobile phone or computer for a handful of days amounts to nothing short of torture, an experience which you may or may not survive! It is possible to live without gadgets for a fortnight.’

      ‘Could you?’ But her rebellious mind was somewhere else, somewhere she felt it shouldn’t be.

      ‘This isn’t about me. Bring whatever books you want, or embroidery, or whatever you might enjoy doing, and think about it positively as an unexpected time out for which you will continue to be paid. If you’re finding it difficult to kick back and enjoy the experience, then you can always consider the alternative: litigation, legal bills and no job.’

      Katy clenched her fists and wanted to say something back in retaliation, even though she was dimly aware of the fact that this was the last person on the planet she wanted to have a scrap with, and not just because he was a man who would have no trouble in making good on his threats. However, the door was opening and through the haze of her anger she heard herself being discussed in a low voice, as if she wasn’t in the room at all.

      ‘Right.’

      She blinked and Lucas was staring down at her, hands shoved in his trouser pockets. Awkwardly she stood up and instinctively smiled politely at his secretary, who smiled back.

      He’d rattled off a chain of events, but she’d only been half listening, and now she didn’t honestly know what would happen next.

      ‘I’ll have to phone my mum and dad,’ she said a little numbly and Lucas inclined his head to one side with a frown.

      ‘Of course.’

      ‘I talk with them every evening.’

      His frown deepened, because that seemed a little excessive for someone in her twenties. It didn’t tally with the image of a raunchy young woman indulging in a steamy affair with a married man, not that the details of that were his business, unless the steamy affair was ongoing.

      ‘And I don’t have any pets.’ She gathered her backpack from the ground and headed towards the door in the same daze that had begun settling over her the second his secretary had walked into the room.

      ‘Miss Brennan...’

      ‘Huh?’ She blinked and looked up at him.

      She was only five-three and wearing flats, so she had to crane her neck up. Her hair tumbled down her back in a riot of colour. Lucas was a big man and he felt as though he could fit her into his pocket. She was delicate, her features fine, her body slender under the oversized white shirt. Was that why he suddenly felt himself soften after the gruelling experience he had put her through? He had never in his life done anything that disturbed his conscience, had always acted fairly and decently towards other people. Yes, undeniably he could be ruthless, but never unjustly so. He felt a little guilty now.

      ‘Don’t get worked up about this.’ His voice was clipped because this was as close as he was going to get to putting her mind at ease. By nature, he was distrustful, and certainly the situation in which he had encountered her showed all the hallmarks of being dangerous, as she only had to advertise what she knew to her ex. Yet something about her fuelled an unexpected response in him.

      Her eyes, he noted as he stared down into them, were a beguiling mix of green and turquoise. ‘This isn’t a trial by torture. It’s just the only way I can deal with a potential problem. You won’t spend the fortnight suffering, nor is there any need to fear that I’m going to be following you around every waking moment like a bad conscience. Indeed, you will hardly notice my presence. I will be working all day and you’ll be free to do as you like. Without the tools for communicating with the outside world, you can’t get up to any mischief.’

      ‘But I don’t even know where I’m going!’ Katy cried, latching on to that window of empathy before it vanished out of sight.

      Lucas raised his eyebrows, and there was that smile again, although the empathy was still there and it was tinged with a certain amount of cool amusement. ‘Consider it a surprise,’ he murmured. ‘A bit like winning the lottery which, incidentally, pretty much sums it up when you think about the alternative.’ He nodded to his secretary and glanced at his watch. ‘Two hours, Vicky. Think that will do it?’

      ‘I think so.’

      ‘In that case, I will see you both shortly. And, Miss Brennan...don’t even think about doing a runner.’

      * * *

      Over the next hour and a half Katy experienced what it felt like to be kidnapped. Oh, he could call it what he liked, but she was going to be held prisoner. She was relieved of her mobile phone by Lucas’s secretary, who was brisk but warm, and seemed to see nothing amiss in following her boss’s high-handed instructions. It would be delivered to Lucas and held in safekeeping for her.

      She packed a bunch of clothes, not knowing where she was going. Outside, it was still, but spring was making way for summer, so the clothes she crammed into her duffel bag were light, with one cardigan in case she ended up somewhere cold.

      Although how would she know what the weather was up to when she would probably be locked in a room somewhere with views of the outside world through bars?

      And yet, for all her frustration and downright anger, she could sort of see why he had reacted the way he had. Obviously the only thing that mattered to Lucas Cipriani was making money and closing deals. If this was to be the biggest deal of his career—and dipping his corporate toes into the Far East would be—then he would be more than happy to do what it took to safeguard his interest.

      She was a dispensable little fish in the very big pond in which he was the marauding king of the water.

      And the fact that she knew someone at the company he was about to take over, someone who was so far ignorant of what was going on, meant she had the power to pass on highly sensitive and potentially explosive information.

      Lucas Cipriani, being the sort of man he was, would never believe that she had no ongoing situation with Duncan Powell because he was suspicious, distrustful, power hungry, arrogant, and would happily feed her to the sharks if it suited him, because he was also ice-cold and utterly emotionless.

      ‘Where


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