Kate Hewitt - Out of Hours...Her Ruthless Boss

‘Yes,’ Lizzie said.

‘Change your mind?’

‘No.’ She gave a knowing smile of her own. ‘You snore.’

He chuckled disbelievingly and shook his head. ‘No one’s told me that before.’

‘I didn’t think your women stayed the night,’ Lizzie threw back, and he stilled.

‘No, they don’t.’ He paused thoughtfully, although something—not sleep—clouded his eyes once more. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever shared a bed with another person for the whole night before.’

‘Me, neither,’ Lizzie admitted, and he chuckled.

‘That I believe, my little virgin.’

She scooted off the bed and busied herself pulling clothes from the cupboard. ‘What are we doing today?’

‘Jan and Hilda are taking us over to the building site. We’ll talk shop while you ladies gossip, and then we’ll all head to the beach for an afternoon of sun, sand and surf. Tomorrow Jan wants to see our formal presentations.’

‘I really am just here as arm candy,’ Lizzie said with a shake of her head. ‘Whatever anyone says about family values.’

‘Delicious arm candy, at that,’ Cormac said. Somehow he’d sneaked up behind her while she’d been selecting her clothes and now he murmured in her ear, ‘If only I could have a taste.’

‘Don’t,’ she snapped, and he laughed.

‘You’re so easy to rile, Chandler. It almost takes the fun away.’

She turned around, one eyebrow raised. ‘Almost?’

He grinned, suddenly looking boyish and uncomplicated. If only . ‘Almost, but not quite.’

Lizzie grabbed the rest of her clothes and headed into the bathroom. She didn’t like Cormac when he was charming. Didn’t trust him. At his most enticing, he was also the most dangerous.

No, Lizzie realised, she did like him at his most charming—or even just a bit charming—and that was the problem. It would be so easy to succumb to temptation. To desire.

She climbed into the shower, let the hot water stream over her and imagined what that would be like. Feel like.

What would Cormac be like as a lover? Would he be commanding, authoritative, taking control with skilled, knowing hands? Or would he be tender, gentle, awakening her responses with a supreme confidence that didn’t need him to be in control?

Lizzie shook her head, suppressed a shudder. She had no business wondering about Cormac, what he was like as a lover, who he really was. Not if she wanted to keep herself—body and soul—safe.

Yet she was curious. Curious about sex, curious about Cormac. Curious about Cormac as a lover…and as a man. What had made him the way he was? What would change him?

‘The trouble with you,’ she told her reflection in the mirror as she towelled herself dry, ‘is that you’ve had no one to care about since Dani left. You’re just lonely and you want someone to fix.’

The realisation sobered her. Saddened her, too. For the last ten years she’d given her life to her younger sister, had poured her emotions and her soul into Dani’s well-being. She knew it was what her parents would have wanted, and she’d been happy to do it.

But now Dani—carefree, laughing Dani—was gone, happily tucked away at university, and at twenty-eight Lizzie was left wondering what to do with the rest of her life.

Whatever happened, the rest of her life, her personal life, would have nothing to do with Cormac, she told herself sternly. So her mind and heart and treacherous body had all better remember that.

She dressed quickly in white capris and a pale pink blouse—sleeveless, cool and elegantly simple. Since they’d be outside for most 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.