Fiona Brand - Secrets In The Boardroom

In the end she changed into a simple but elegant ivory cotton dress with an intriguingly low cut neckline that she usually teamed with a thin silk camisole.

She inserted pearl studs in her ears and spent a good ten minutes on her makeup. The results weren’t exactly spectacular, but Zane hadn’t given her much notice. Feeling buoyed up but more than a little on edge, she strolled out to the main sitting room.

For the next two days she had a guilty kind of permission to put her marriage plans to one side and immerse herself in a passionate experience. Unfortunately, she was going to have to play it by ear. Nothing in her extensive research on dating with a view to marriage had prepared her to cope with a rampant love affair with a totally unsuitable man.

Zane was already on the deck dressed in fitted dark pants that outlined the muscular length of his legs and a loose, gauzy white shirt. On another man the semitransparent shirt might have looked soft and effeminate, but on Zane the effect of muslin clinging to broad shoulders was powerful and utterly masculine. With his hair sleeked back in a ponytail, the studs in his ear were clearly visible, making him look even more like his piratical ancestor.

Somewhere classical music played softly. Marta had set the table, but this time it was glamorously romantic with white damask, gleaming gold cutlery and ornate gold candlesticks. Lit candles provided a soft, flickering glow, highlighting the Lalique glassware. With the deck floating in darkness above the rocks and the sea luminous and gleaming below, it was easy to fantasize that she was standing in the prow of a ship.

Dinner was a gazpacho-style soup with fresh, warm rolls, followed by a rich chicken casserole with pasta. Desert was a platter of honeyed pastries, fresh figs and soft white cheese.

Marta and Jorge cleared away. When Zane indicated they should go inside, she preceded him gladly, grateful for the distraction from the growing awareness that they were finally alone.

Feeling even more nervous now, Lilah walked around the huge sitting room, studying the artwork on the walls. She stopped at a beautifully executed watercolor of a rocky track, which culminated in a cave.

Zane’s deep, cool voice close to her ear sent a tingling jolt of awareness through her. “That came from the old villa. One of the few possessions that survived the World War Two bombing.”

She forced herself to study the familiar signature at the bottom right-hand corner of the painting, although with Zane behind her she was now utterly distracted. “Of course, one of Sebastien’s.”

“You might recognize a couple of landmarks.” He reached past her to indicate a familiar headland, then farther in the background, a high peak. “It’s a painting of an area behind the old villa.”

She tensed at Zane’s proximity. It was ridiculous to be so on edge. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t kissed a number of times, made love.

The warmth of his breath on her nape sent a shivery frisson down her spine. “Would you like a drink?”

When she turned, he had already moved away and was at the drinks cabinet, a decanter of brandy in one hand, a balloon glass in the other. “No. Thanks.”

He splashed brandy in the glass and gestured at the comfortable leather couches. “Have a seat.

Lilah chose an armchair close to the fire, sank into the cloud of leather and tried to relax. She blushed when she registered Zane’s gaze lingering in the area of her neckline, and tried to brazen out the moment.

“Why didn’t you tell me that Peters was gay?”

She stiffened at the question. “And how would you know that?”

“I was interested. I made a few inquiries.”

Outrage stiffened her spine. She knew what Zane did for a living. He was The Atraeus Group’s fixer. If there was a difficult situation or a problem with personnel, Zane took care of it along with a sinister clutch of characters, one of whom happened to be Spiros. “You mean you had me, and Evan, investigated.”

Irritation gleamed in his dark eyes. “I asked a few questions in the Ambrosi office. That girl who works in PR? What’s her name?”

“Lisa.”

“That’s it. She told me.”

Lilah let out a breath. She should have guessed. Lisa, who was a romantic at heart, would have been dazzled by Zane. She would have hemorrhaged information in the belief that Zane was truly interested in Lilah. “I agreed to be Evan’s date on a few occasions to help him keep up the charade that he was straight for his accounting firm, that’s all.”

Zane positioned himself to one side of the fireplace, the brandy balloon cradled in one hand. “And what about Evan’s boss?”

Her mind flashed back to a moment at the charity’s annual art auction two years ago when Zane had found her fending off Britten after she had asked him a few leading questions on the subject of marriage and he had gotten the wrong idea.

“I thought you were involved with both Peters and Britten.”

“Climbing the corporate ladder?” Which explained why he had practically ignored her for two years.

“Something like that.” He finished his brandy and set the glass down on the mantel.

Lilah kept her gaze glued on the flames. “And after we made love, when you knew I hadn’t slept with Evan or Britten, or Lucas, why didn’t you bother to contact me?”

“I figured we both needed some time. Besides, I needed to go out of town. Broome, to be exact.”

Lilah’s head came up at the mention of her hometown. “To check out the pearl farms?”

“I wasn’t interested in the pearls on that trip. I went to see your mother. I needed her permission.”

For a moment she actually considered that Zane had done something crazily old-fashioned and had declared his intention to ask for her hand. Almost instantly she squashed that idea. Firstly, he hadn’t asked her anything remotely like that, and since he’d walked into the interview room at the airport there had been plenty of time. Secondly, he would have to both want her and love her to propose marriage. “Permission to do what?”

“To pay off your mother’s mortgage and outstanding loans.”

She shot to her feet, any idea of a romantic idyll gone. “You’ve got no right to meddle in my family affairs, or offer my mother money.”

“The agreement has nothing to do with you and me. Or our relationship.”

“We don’t have a relationship, and my mother is in no position to repay you.”

“I don’t want the money back.”

She went still inside. “What do you want, then?”

“I already have it. Peace of mind.”

She frowned. “How can paying off my mother’s house give you peace of mind?”

“Because it takes financial pressure off you. Your mother was worried about you.” Reaching into his pocket, he produced a slip of paper.

Lilah recognized the check she had written out and expressed to her mother so she could make arrangements with her bank to pay off her mortgage. Clearly, the check had never been cashed.

He dropped the check on the coffee table. “You can give that back to Lucas.”

The coolness of his voice jerked her chin up. “It isn’t Lucas’s money. Although indirectly he, and you, did help me earn it.”

Zane’s brows jerked together. “The money didn’t come from Ambrosi, I made sure of that.”

“No. Some of my paintings sold. With the notoriety of my being involved with Lucas, then you, the gallery owner put huge prices on the works and sold out in one day.” She picked up the check. “This was the result.”

He took it from her fingers, crumpled it in his fist and tossed it into the fire. “Do you know what it did to me to see that check? I thought Lucas was helping you out financially.”