Jane Porter - Love Islands - Red-Hot Sunsets

Aggravatingly seeming to read her mind, privy to every dark leap of imagination that had whirled through her head in a series of colourful images, Lucas replied, ‘I’m sure that you’ve already conjured up dire destinations. So, instead of telling you, I’ll leave you to carry on with your fictitious scenarios because I suspect that where you subsequently end up can only be better than what you’ve wasted your time imagining. But to set your mind at rest...’

He patted the pocket of the linen jacket which was dumped on the seat next to him. ‘Your mobile phone is safe and sound right there. As soon as we land, you can tell me your password so that I can check every so often: make sure there are no urgent messages from the parents you’re in the habit of calling on a daily basis...’

‘Or from a married ex-boyfriend?’ She couldn’t resist prodding the sleeping tiger and he gave her a long, cool look from under the dark fringe of his lashes.

‘Or from a married ex-boyfriend,’ he drawled. ‘Always pays to be careful, in my opinion. Now why don’t you let me work and why don’t you...enjoy the ride?’

CHAPTER THREE

THE RIDE PROBABLY TOOK HOURS, and felt even longer, with Katy doing her best to pretend that Lucas wasn’t sitting within touching distance. When the helicopter began descending, swinging in a loop as it got lower, all she could see was the broad expanse of blue ocean.

Panicked and bewildered, she gazed at Lucas, who hadn’t looked up from his papers and, when eventually he did, he certainly didn’t glance in her direction.

After a brief hovering, the helicopter delicately landed and then she could see what she had earlier missed.

This wasn’t a shabby holding pen.

Lucas was unclicking himself from his seat belt and then he patiently waited for her to do the same. This was all in a day’s work for him. He turned to talk to the pilot, a low, clipped, polite exchange of words, then he stood back to allow her through the door and onto the super-yacht on which the helicopter had landed.

It was much, much warmer here and the dying rays of the sun revealed that the yacht was anchored at some distance from land. No intrusive boats huddled anywhere near it. She was standing on a yacht that was almost big enough to be classified as a small liner—sleek, sharp and so impressive that every single left wing thought about money not mattering was temporarily wiped away under a tidal wave of shameless awe.

The dark bank of land rose in the distance, revealing just some pinpricks of light peeping out between the trees and dense foliage that climbed up the side of the island’s incline.

She found herself following Lucas as behind them the helicopter swung away and the deafening roar of the rotary blades faded into an ever-diminishing wasp-like whine. And then she couldn’t hear it at all because they had left the helipad on the upper deck of the yacht and were moving inside.

‘How does it feel to be a prisoner held against your will in a shabby cell?’ Lucas drawled, not looking at her at all but heading straight through a vast expanse of polished wood and expensive cream leather furniture. A short, plump lady was hurrying to meet them, her face wreathed in smiles, and they spoke in rapid Italian.

Katy was dimly aware of being introduced to the woman, who was Signora Maria, the resident chef when on board.

Frankly, all she could take in was the breath-taking, obscene splendour of her surroundings. She was on board a billionaire’s toy and, in a way, it made her feel more nervous and jumpy than if she had been dumped in that holding pen she had created in her fevered, over-imaginative head.

She’d known the guy was rich but when you were as rich as this, rich enough to own a yacht of this calibre, then you could do whatever you wanted.

When he’d threatened her with legal proceedings, it hadn’t been an empty threat.

Katy decided that she wasn’t going to let herself be cowed by this display. She wasn’t guilty of anything and she wasn’t going to be treated like a criminal because Lucas Cipriani was suspicious by nature.

She had always been encouraged by her parents to speak her mind and she wasn’t going to be turned into a rag doll because she was overwhelmed by her surroundings.

‘Maria will show you to your suite.’ He turned to her, his dark eyes roving up and down her body without expression. ‘In it you will find everything you need, including an en suite bathroom. You’ll be pleased to hear that there is no lock on the outside of your room, so you’re free to come and go at will.’

‘There’s no need to be sarcastic,’ Katy told him, mouth set in a sullen line. Her eyes flicked to him and skittered away just as fast before they could dwell for too long on the dark, dramatic beauty of his lean face because, once there, it was stupidly hard to tear her gaze away.

‘Correction—there’s every need to be sarcastic after you’ve bandied around terms such as kidnapped. I told you that you should look on the bright side and see this as a fully paid two-week vacation.’ He dismissed Maria with a brief nod, because this looked as though it was shaping up to be another one of those conversations, then he shoved his hands in his pockets and stared down at her. She looked irritatingly unrepentant. ‘In the absence of your books, you’ll find that there is a private home cinema space with a comprehensive selection of movies. There are also two swimming pools—one indoor, one on the upper deck. And of course a library, should you decide that reading is a worthwhile option in the absence of your computer.’

‘You’re not very nice, are you?’

‘Nice people finish last so, yes, that’s an accolade I’ve been more than happy to pass up, which is something you’d do well to remember.’

Katy’s eyes narrowed at the bitterness in his voice. Was he speaking from experience? What experience? She didn’t want to be curious about him, but she suddenly was. Just for a moment, she realised that underneath the ruthless, cool veneer there would be all sorts of reasons for him being the man he was.

‘Nice people don’t always finish last,’ she murmured sincerely.

‘Oh, but they do.’ Lucas’s voice was cool and he was staring at her, his head at an angle, as if examining something weird he wasn’t quite sure about. ‘They get wrapped up in pointless sentimentality and emotion and open themselves up to getting exploited, so please don’t think I’ll be falling victim to that trait while we’re out here.’

‘Get exploited?’ Katy found that she was holding her breath as she waited for his answer.

‘Is that the sound of a woman trying to find out what makes me tick?’ Lucas raised his eyebrows with wry amusement and began walking. ‘Many have tried and failed in that venture, so I shouldn’t bother if I were you.’

‘It’s very arrogant of you to assume that I want to find out about you,’ Katy huffed. ‘But, as you’ve reminded me, we’re going to be stuck here together for the next two weeks. I was just trying to have a conversation.’

‘Like I said, I don’t intend to be around much. When we do converse, we can keep it light.’

‘I’m sorry.’ She sighed, reaching to loop her long hair over one shoulder. ‘Believe it or not, I can almost understand why you dragged me out here.’

‘Well, at least drag is an improvement on kidnap,’ Lucas conceded.

‘I’m hot, tired and sticky, and sitting quietly at my desk working on my computer feels like a lifetime ago. I’m not in the best of moods.’

‘I can’t picture you sitting quietly anywhere. Maybe I’ve been remiss in not getting out and seeing what my employees are doing. What do you think? Should I have left my ivory tower and had a look at which of my employees were sitting and meekly doing their jobs and which ones were pushing the envelope?’