Secrets In The Boardroom. Fiona Brand

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Secrets In The Boardroom - Fiona Brand


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the pelting rain, and counted to ten. When her lids flipped open, Zane was staring down at her, water dripping from his chin, wet T-shirt plastered to his torso faithfully outlining every ridge and muscle. “Two days. Paradise, you said.”

      “It would have been if we’d spent the time in bed.”

      “Huh.” She pushed into a sitting position and checked her ankle and in the process realized that the white camisole she was wearing was now practically invisible.

      Zane crouched down beside her. Lean brown fingers closed around her ankle.

      “Ouch. Don’t touch it.” Despite the slight tenderness, a jolt of purely sensual awareness shot through her.

      His expression was irritatingly calm. “It’s not swollen, so it can’t be too sore. How did you do it?”

      “I saw you and slipped. Twice.”

      The accusation bounced off him. “Can you walk?”

      “Yes.”

      “Too bad.” He pulled her up until she was balanced on one foot then swung her into his arms.

      The rain began to pelt down. She clutched at his shoulders. “I’m heavy.”

      He glanced pointedly at her chest. “There are compensations.”

      He continued on down the hill but instead of taking a broad track to the beach, he veered left heading for a dark tumble of rocks. They rounded a corner and a low opening became visible. “Sebastien’s cave.”

      “I thought it might be near.”

      The mouth to the cave was broad, allowing light to flow into the cavern. Ducking to avoid the rock overhang, Zane set Lilah down on one of the boulders that littered the opening. He shrugged out of the rucksack he had strapped to his back, unfastened the waterproof flap and extracted a flashlight. The bright beam cut through the gloom, revealing a dusty brass lantern balanced on a natural rock shelf and an equally dusty brass lighter lying beside it.

      He crouched down and examined her ankle again. “A bandage would help.”

      She retracted her ankle from his tingling grip. “I can wait for a bandage. Really, it isn’t that bad.”

      “Bad enough that it’s starting to swell.” He peeled out of his T-shirt.

      Murky light gleamed on ridged abs and muscled pecs, the darker striations of the two thin scars that crisscrossed his abdomen. One was shorter and lighter, as if it hadn’t been so serious, the other more defined and longer, curling just above one hip.

      She dragged her gaze from the mesmerizing expanse of bronzed, sculpted muscle, abruptly aware that he knew exactly the effect he was having on her and that he was enjoying it. “Don’t you need to wear that?”

      “It’s either my T-shirt or your top. You choose.”

      She concentrated on keeping her gaze rigidly on the wadded T-shirt. “Yours.”

      “Thought you’d say that.”

      Using his teeth, he ripped a small hole near the hem of the shirt then tore a broad strip, working the tear until he ended up with a continuous run of bandage. Clasping her calf, he began to firmly wind the bandage around her ankle.

      “Don’t tell me, you were a Boy Scout.”

      “Sea Scout.” He ripped the trailing end of the bandage into two strips and tied it off.

      “Ouch. Figures.”

      He wound a finger in a damp strand of her hair and tugged. “Goes with the pirate image?”

      She reclaimed her hair and tried to repress the brazen impulse to wallow in the jolt of killer charm and flirt back. “Yes.”

      Rising to his feet before he gave in to temptation and kissed Lilah, Zane examined the lantern, which still contained an oily swill of kerosene.

      He found a plastic lighter in the rucksack and tried to light it. Frustratingly, the lighter wouldn’t ignite. On closer inspection he discovered that the cheap firing mechanism had broken. Tossing the lighter back in the rucksack, he tried the old brass lighter, which had to date back before World War II. It fired instantly. Seconds later, the warm glow of the lantern lit up the cave. “Close on seventy years old and it still works. They should keep making stuff like this.”

      Zane caught the quick flash of Lilah’s smile, and held his breath at the way it lit up her face, taking her from pale and gorgeous to high-voltage, sexily gorgeous.

      She held his gaze with a boldness that took him by surprise and made his heart race then looked quickly away, her cheeks pink.

      She shrugged. “Sometimes I forget you’re an Atraeus.”

      He shrugged, his jaw clenched in an effort to control the sudden hot tension that gripped him, the desire to compound his sins by grabbing her and kissing her until she melted against him. He had to keep reminding himself he was trying for a measured, adult approach, in line with his desire to try an actual relationship. “Before I was an Atraeus I was a Salvatore. In L.A. that meant pretty much the opposite of what Atraeus means on Medinos.”

      “And that’s when you got the scars?”

      He found himself smiling grimly. “That’s right. Pre-Spiros.”

      Picking up the lantern, he held it high. “Wait here. I’m going to check out the rest of the cavern.”

      And take a few minutes to regain the legendary Atraeus control that, lately, was losing hands down to the hotheaded Salvatore kid he used to be.

      When he returned, Lilah was on her feet. Automatically, he set the lantern down and steadied her, his hands at her waist.

      She released the rock shelf she’d grabbed and clutched at his shoulders. “Every time I see you lately, I seem to lose my balance.”

      “I’m not complaining.”

      With a calm deliberation formulated during a sleepless night and several hours out on the water, he eased a half step closer, encouraging her to lean more heavily on him. “That’s better.”

      She wound her arms around his neck with an automatic, natural grace that filled him with relief. Despite the disastrous conversation the previous night, she still wanted him.

      Her breasts flattened against his chest, sending another jolt of sensual heat through him, but he couldn’t lose his cool. He had said that the next time they made love they were going to go about it in a rational, adult way, and he was sticking to that.

      Lilah met his gaze squarely. “Why did you sail away on your own?”

      A chilly gust of wind laced with rain swept into the cave.

      “I wanted to give you time to think things through. If you had wanted off the island that badly, I would have taken you, but—”

      “I don’t.”

      His mouth went dry at her capitulation. A split second later thunder crashed directly overhead.

      Lilah lifted a brow.

      “Come and see what I found.” An uncomplicated satisfaction flowed through Zane as he picked up the lantern and helped Lilah through to the rear part of the cavern, which narrowed and curved then widened out to form a second room.

      The cavern was furnished with a table and two chairs, a small antique dresser and a chaise longue. As dusty and faded as the furniture was, the overall effect was elegant and dramatic, like a set for an old Valentino movie.

      “What is this place?”

      Zane set Lilah down on one of the chairs and stripped what proved to be a dustcover off the chaise longue revealing red velvet upholstery. “I’d guess we’ve found the location of Sebastien Ambrosi’s love nest.”

      Lilah touched the velvet. She had heard the tale from her grandmother,


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