Out of Hours...Her Ruthless Boss: Ruthless Boss, Hired Wife / Unworldly Secretary, Untamed Greek / Her Ruthless Italian Boss

CHAPTER EIGHT

THIS was how he wanted her. Slender, glistening, perfect, her lips full and parted, ready to be kissed, her body open, willing, ready.

He smiled as he kissed her.

Her lips were soft, sweet, warm and hungry. She kissed him back with an inexpert passion that seared his soul and fired his blood.

Her hands stroked his chest, funny little strokes that weren’t meant to arouse or entice. She was simply exploring.

But it worked. It worked very well.

Cormac lay her in the sand, warm from the sun and damp from their bodies. He wanted to be careful, calculated about what he was doing. This needed to be right. She had to feel…treasured.

He untied her bikini top and let it fall away to reveal pert, perfect, pink-tipped breasts.

She smiled shyly. ‘Am I too small?’

‘You’re perfect,’ he murmured, and brushed his lips against her breast, then found he wanted more. She moaned, her fists clenched in his damp hair, pulling her towards him.

‘Cormac…’

Everything was new to her, wondrous and thrilling. He lifted his head, smiled and moved to the other breast. She arched towards him and he let his hand slide across her stomach to finger the top of her bikini briefs.

She tensed slightly, surprised as his fingers slid underneath the slippery material.

He kept his hand still, waiting for her to agree, to surrender as he knew she would.

After a moment her legs, taut with tension, relaxed, and she parted for him, letting his hand slide under her briefs to the very core of her, gasping as he stroked her with clever, knowing fingers.

‘Cormac…’ She moved, writhed, a stranger to the exquisite sensation she was feeling…he was feeling, watching her. It pleased him to pleasure her.

It was a new feeling.

Somewhere someone laughed, and he realised that even in this secluded cove there were people nearby. So did Lizzie, by the way her body stiffened and her eyes widened.

They stared at each other for a moment, Lizzie wide-eyed and searching, before the moment was broken, the wonderment lost.

Cormac rolled off her, his back on the hard sand, breathing heavily.

Lizzie was fumbling with her bikini strings, trying to make herself decent.

Around a tumble of rocks, two figures emerged. From a distance, Cormac saw it was Wendy and Dan.

Dammit.

‘Hey, you two!’ Wendy called out cheerfully. She glanced at their appearances, still rumpled, both of them stretched out on the sand, and blushed. ‘Did we interrupt some private time?’

‘Wendy,’ Dan admonished. He grinned. ‘They’re newly-weds, remember?’

‘Oh, of course. This could practically count as your honeymoon!’

Cormac chuckled dryly, ran his fingers through his sandy hair and smiled. ‘We’re planning a honeymoon eventually,’ he said, ‘but in the meantime, this will do.’

He glanced at Lizzie, saw her face was white and blank, and mentally cursed. The seduction he’d so carefully planned was shot to pieces. Now he had no idea how she might react.

‘How do you feel the weekend’s going, Cormac?’ Dan asked. ‘From what I can tell, Hassell has his eye mostly on you.’

‘It’s anyone’s game still,’ Cormac replied neutrally. He wanted them gone, wanted to take Lizzie back into his arms and make her believe in him again.

He wanted to repair the damage.

‘Let the best man win, right?’ Dan said with a wry smile. ‘The best architect.’

‘Exactly,’ Cormac agreed with a small smile.

Dan glanced at Lizzie, who hadn’t spoken yet. She was still sitting there, one hand fiddling with her bikini string, her eyes wide and dark.

‘You look like you’ve had a bit too much sun, Elizabeth,’ he ventured. ‘Are you two heading back? I convinced Wendy to try snorkeling—I think we’ll swim back to the beach. Everyone will be returning to the villa soon.’

Cormac paused. There was no point picking up where they’d left off—Lizzie was too shocked. Too embarrassed. He’d have to wait till tonight, in their room. More comfortable anyway, he decided as he brushed some sand from his shoulders. Then there would be no interruptions, nothing to keep them from each other.

Nothing to keep him from gaining her trust, her love, and enjoying it. Using it.

‘Yes, we’ll go back with you,’ he said.

Nodding, Dan and Wendy waded into the shallows. Cormac turned to Lizzie.

‘Come on, sweetheart,’ he said, keeping his voice gentle. ‘You do look like you’ve had too much sun.’

She gave him an odd look. ‘You think so?’ He held out his hand to help her up and she shrugged it aside. ‘I’ll stay here.’

Cormac bit back his impatience. ‘You heard Dan. Everyone’s getting ready to go back to the villa.’

She looked at him, a new coldness in her eyes. ‘I’ll walk.’

‘Lizzie…’ he warned, and she shook her head.

‘No, Cormac, don’t. Don’t control me. Not now.’ She stood up, brushed the sand from her legs. ‘I’ll see you back at the beach.’

Without waiting for his response, she headed down the stretch of empty sand, her pace resolute, her shoulders thrown back.

Cormac cursed aloud. He should follow her, he supposed, make sure she didn’t do something stupid like get lost or burst into tears.

Still, he didn’t want to create a scene. He had no idea how she would react now, what she might do because she was hurt, furious or just plain frustrated.

This could, he realised savagely, cost him the commission.

But he was still going to seduce her. Tonight.

The sun was low in the sky, casting a golden sheen on the calm surface of the sea, when Lizzie finally found her way back to the makeshift camp. She hadn’t realised how jagged the coastline was; walking had taken far longer than swimming would have.

She’d kept her mind blank, filled with the white noise around her, the soothing rush of waves on to sand, the call of seabirds, the rustling of the palm trees that fringed the beach.

It was easier to concentrate on those sounds than the memories which jangled and clamoured within her, desperate to be heard.

The memory of Cormac’s lips on hers, his hands on her…

No. Her hands went up to her face and, despite her best intentions, the memories came anyway, rushed over her in an endless tide of regret and wonder.

She couldn’t believe…

No.

Cormac. With Cormac.

She’d expected to feel desire, lust. But she’d felt tenderness, emotion, need.

And he hadn’t felt anything.

Why couldn’t it be uncomplicated? Why couldn’t she be uncomplicated?

Why couldn’t she give Cormac her body while keeping her heart?

She knew there was no feeling on his side. No matter how much she hoped or wondered. If he felt anything for her, it was casual, careless affection. Fleeting and fuelled by lust.

That was all it was.

Could it be enough? For her?

Was she willing to accept so little, simply because it was more than she’d ever had?

Lizzie shook her head. No. She wanted more, wanted what she’d told Cormac. Love. Respect. Marriage, even.

Nothing he was prepared to give her. Nothing she should want from him.

And yet…

She wanted him.

She didn’t trust him. And she didn’t trust herself.

Yet the want, the need, the hunger was still there, even as she knew that an affair with Cormac would lead only to more hunger, more need that could not be satisfied. Not by Cormac.

He wasn’t interested in loving her. He didn’t even respect her. And marriage was out of the question.

So where did that leave her? Nowhere, Lizzie realised with a grim smile, except exactly where Cormac wanted her…in the palm of his hand. Literally.

Cormac saw her as she approached the camp, and there was a look of thunderous fury on his face as he strode towards her, grabbing her by the shoulders and giving her a little shake before he kissed her hard on the mouth.

‘Where were you? We’ve all been half mad with worry, thinking you were lost or dead—’

‘I told you I would walk,’ Lizzie said stiffly, her mouth bruised from his kiss. ‘I didn’t think you’d care.’

‘I didn’t think it would take you so long,’ he retorted. ‘I had visions of you trying to swim back, being caught in the undertow.’ He sounded both accusing and anguished, and over his shoulder Lizzie saw Hilda smiling in concern, Jan looking worried.

Of course. This was part of Cormac’s charade. He’d given her her cue, and was undoubtedly waiting for her response.

‘I’m sorry, darling,’ she said, and he relaxed a bit. ‘I didn’t realise you’d worry so much.’ Or at all. ‘Forgive me?’

‘You’ll just have to make it up to me later.’ He gave her a wolfish smile and, taking her hand, led her towards the waiting vehicles.

Lizzie closed her eyes and let him lead her. For a moment she’d thought he hadn’t been acting. For a moment it had felt real.

Never. Never.

The ride back to the villa was quiet save for the chattering and whirring of birds and bugs as twilight gave way to a cloak of velvety darkness.

By the time they arrived, everyone was tired from a day in the sun, and Hilda arranged for trays to be brought privately to the rooms.

She patted Lizzie’s cheek in farewell. ‘We’ll see you at breakfast. All couples have their quarrels, no?’ Behind Hilda, Lizzie saw Jan frown at Cormac.

The afternoon had cost him, she supposed, in credibility. God knew it had cost her something, too.

Lizzie managed to smile rather weakly at Hilda. She was not looking forward to enforced quarters with Cormac all evening.

Back in the room, he said tersely, ‘Do you realise how dangerous that stunt you pulled was? Jan kept making remarks about how easily I’d managed to lose my wife, and Stears jumped in, saying maybe I’d never had her in the first place.’

Lizzie shrugged. ‘You obviously made up for it with that little display of husbandly concern. Jan and Hilda looked thrilled.’

He paused. ‘Yes, that was rather good, wasn’t it?’ He ran a hand through his hair and gestured towards the bathroom. ‘You can have the shower first.’ He paused again and Lizzie glanced at him, saw him frowning. ‘Then we should talk.’

She nodded, surprised and a bit wary, before gathering her things and heading for the blessed oblivion of a hot shower.

Standing under a jet of scalding water, she wondered what Cormac wanted to talk about. No doubt he was afraid she’d read something into the afternoon, something that obviously wasn’t there. She understood the afternoon had been about lust, and lust only. She didn’t need a lecture.

Yet the realisation hurt. It was stupid, because she’d known all along and yet it still hurt. She hurt.

What would have happened, she wondered, if Wendy and Dan hadn’t disturbed them? Would Cormac have taken her right there, on the hard sand?

Would she have let him?

Would she have been able to resist?

After her shower, she put on a simple shift dress in loose cotton. She exited the bathroom, combing her fingers through her damp hair, and Cormac didn’t say a word as he moved past her to take his own shower.

There was a light knock on the door and a member of staff from the kitchen brought in a tray of food.

‘Thank you,’ Lizzie murmured, and glanced down at the makings of a delicious meal—a chicken dish fragrant with cloves and banana, cornflour pancakes and a fresh fruit salad. For dessert there was coconut cream pie.

She decided to wait for Cormac to eat, even though she dreaded seeing him, talking to him. She could still hear the sounds of the shower and suddenly the room seemed too small, too hot and confined.

Lizzie threw open the shutters and gulped in a breath of fresh sea air, tangy with salt and heavy with the fragrance of frangipani and orchids.

The windows of their room looked directly out onto the beach and, without even thinking about what she was doing, Lizzie swung her legs over the low sill, landed in a flower bed and took the few short steps to the sand.

She felt better out there, under a cool night sky, the air as soft and heavy as velvet. She heard the rustle of palms in the breeze, the lap of the waves and the sound of laughter from another bedroom.

She sat down on the sand, cool and hard in the darkness, and drew her knees up to her chest, her chin resting on top.

She didn’t know how long she sat like that, her mind blessedly blank, but eventually she heard the creak of the shutters and then the sound of Cormac swinging himself over and walking across the sand.

‘What are you doing out here?’

‘Being by myself,’ she replied, and heard him sigh.

‘Chandler…’

‘People might be able to hear,’ she warned him in a low, terse voice.

‘Lizzie.’ Somehow her name on his tongue sounded so intimate. He sat down next to her, his arms resting on his knees. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.

Lizzie turned and looked at him, surprised and wary. She couldn’t see much of him in the moonlight, no more than the gleam of his eyes and teeth.

‘What for?’

‘For what happened earlier,’ Cormac said.

She stiffened, shrugged. ‘Sorry? That’s not exactly a compliment.’

‘It wasn’t meant to be.’ He lifted his hand as if to touch her, then dropped it. ‘I took advantage of you,’ he began heavily, ‘and I shouldn’t have.’

Lizzie stared at him suspiciously. ‘This doesn’t sound like you.’

He shrugged lightly. ‘I’m not a monster…am I?’

‘Sometimes I wonder,’ she mumbled, and he stretched his legs out on the sand.

‘I can’t really blame you for thinking that, can I?’ he said with a sigh. ‘I dragged you into this. I didn’t give you much choice.’

Lizzie raised her eyebrows. ‘Don’t tell me you’re feeling sorry for that!’

He was silent for a long moment. ‘No…’ he finally said, his voice little more than a breath. ‘Not exactly.’ He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, let his fingers trail down her cheek.

Lizzie tried not to tremble. Not to lean into his hand. Not to show him how much she wanted him.

He already knew, anyway.

He dropped his hand, gave an awkward little smile. ‘Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I’ll stop.’

‘Stop?’ she repeated, and realised she sounded disappointed. ‘Stop what, exactly?’

‘Trying to get you into my bed.’ He gave a little laugh. ‘I want you, Lizzie. I want to make love to you. But I won’t. I know you want…you need more from me.’ He paused, and there was a tender uncertainty in his voice that made her mouth dry and her heart ache with both need and hurt. ‘I just don’t know if I can give it.’

She’d never expected this from him, and only now she realised how much she’d wanted it. Wanted him, his honesty and his kindness. Wanted someone looking at her, listening to her. Loving her. ‘Thank you for being truthful with me,’ she said after a long moment.

He inclined his head in silent acknowledgement. ‘Shall we eat?’

She nodded, and he stood up, reaching a hand out to help her up. This time she took it.

Her mind spun as they headed back to the room. He helped her over the window ledge, smiled briefly with a selfdeprecating humour that seemed entirely at odds with his careless arrogance.

Who was this man?

The real man?

The man underneath. She’d seen glimpses of him, flickers of something real. Something warm and vibrant. She realised now how much she wanted to believe there was more to Cormac than the ambition and the affairs. More than manipulation.

She wanted to believe in this.

She helped herself to the meal, then sat on the edge of the bed, her legs tucked under her.

Cormac sat in the chair opposite and dug in with gusto.

‘This is delicious,’ she murmured, trying to think of something to say, wanting to break the silence that had sprung between them, a silence of uncertainty, of possibility.

Cormac nodded in agreement. ‘Tell me about yourself,’ he said.

Lizzie looked up at him with an expression of patent surprise. ‘Do you really want to know?’ she asked, and he gave a little laugh.

‘Actually, yes. I’ve worked with you for two years. I should know a little about you.’

Lizzie raised her eyebrows, still sceptical. Still afraid. Yet hoping…

Hoping so much.

‘I thought it was your policy not to know,’ she said, and shrugged. ‘Besides, there isn’t much to tell. You’ve already gathered the facts from my CV. My life has consisted of working for you and taking care of my sister. End of story.’

‘What about your parents?’

‘They died in a car accident ten years ago.’

‘When you were eighteen,’ Cormac clarified, and she nodded.

‘Yes…Dani was eight. She was an unexpected addition to our family.’

Cormac took another bite of chicken, chewed thoughtfully. ‘So what did you do when that happened?’

He actually sounded interested, Lizzie thought with disbelief. Caring. As if he wanted to know her as a person, and not just a willing body. ‘I got my secretarial qualifications,’ she said. ‘Then I went to work for an architectural firm, Simon and Lester. Then I started working for you.’

‘Was there no money when your parents died?’ he asked. ‘A life-insurance policy of some sort?’

‘A small one,’ Lizzie replied. ‘Enough to take my course, and pay off the mortgage on the house. Then I needed to work.’

‘It must have been very hard,’ he said quietly. ‘Going it alone.’

Lizzie stopped, her fork halfway to her mouth, her eyes suddenly, stupidly filled with tears. Why was he so understanding now? Why was he saying all the right things, when she wanted to keep her distance, keep herself safe…now?

Why?

Could she trust it?

‘Yes,’ she said, her voice little more than a whisper. ‘It was.’

‘Had you been planning to go to university?’ Cormac asked. ‘Eighteen…You must have given up your place if you were.’

‘Yes,’ Lizzie said, her throat raw and aching, ‘I did.’ How had he guessed? How did he know?

Cormac gazed at her for a moment, and there was an understanding in his eyes that Lizzie had never seen before. ‘What were you going to study?’

‘Graphic design.’

He nodded slowly, and they didn’t speak for a few minutes. Lizzie concentrated on her food. Cormac’s gently probing questions had brought back the old sorrow, regret for lost dreams. Yet she’d done the right thing. There had never been any question of that.

‘I suppose there were no relatives to help out?’ Cormac surmised. ‘Or to take Dani?’

‘No one was going to take Dani from me,’ Lizzie said sharply. ‘And anyway there wasn’t anyone. My parents were elderly; they had Dani and me late in life. Our only relative is a rather dotty aunt we see on occasion.’

‘So it was just you,’ Cormac concluded quietly, and his tone made Lizzie want to fidget. He sounded as if he understood something about herself that she could only guess at.

‘Me and Dani,’ she corrected, and he nodded.

‘Except now Dani’s at university and it really is just you.’

She blinked, and then blinked again, horrified to find herself near tears. She opened her mouth to say something bright and brisk about new opportunities and second chances, but nothing came out.

Nothing at all.

‘You’ve done very well,’ Cormac said gently, ‘haven’t you? Even if no one has ever told you so.’

Lizzie tried to smile. She tried, but she didn’t quite make it. She stared down at her half-finished plate instead. Don’t, she thought. Don’t act as if you understand me, as if you like me, if you don’t mean it.

Don’t.

Don’t stop.

She’d never had someone who understood, someone who sympathised. She’d never had someone get close. And now Cormac was here, saying all the right things, doing the right things…but was he feeling the right things?

Did it even matter?

‘Why don’t you sell the house?’ Cormac suggested in a brisker tone. ‘Perhaps you held on to it when Dani was around, for stability, but now…you’re an attractive woman. A young, attractive woman. There’s a whole life in front of you.’

‘It doesn’t always feel that way.’ She got up from the bed and dumped her plate back on the tray. She couldn’t bear it if he felt sorry for her. She couldn’t stand pity, not when she wanted something deeper.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly. ‘I didn’t mean to offend you.’

‘You just spoke the truth,’ she said when she trusted herself to speak. She turned around, looked at him. He was sitting in the chair, his plate on his knees, a look of quiet, thoughtful compassion on his face that was just about her undoing.

‘Cormac…’ she began, and he waited. She licked her lips, tried again. ‘Cormac…’

‘Yes?’ His voice was tender, filled with unspoken promise. Lizzie looked at him, the set of his shoulders, the way his mouth quirked in a smile, his steady gaze.

Who was this man? And what she did want from him?

She wanted something more, and yet something less. She wanted to feel, and not to think. To be touched if not loved. To just be…with him.

She wanted out. She wanted in. She laughed shakily, spread her hands out in plaintive appeal. ‘You’ve said you’d stop, and I don’t want you to.’

There. It was said. She stood there, quivering, waiting. Wondering. Wanting.

He cocked his head, eyed her thoughtfully. ‘You don’t want an affair.’

‘Maybe I do.’ And more than that, but it was a start. A start of something. Wasn’t it?

‘You’d get hurt.’ He paused, and then said quietly, like a confession, ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’

Lizzie’s heart squeezed, expanded. ‘You won’t.’

He pushed his plate aside, shook his head. ‘Lizzie…’ She didn’t know whether it was a plea to stop or begin, and suddenly she didn’t care.

‘Don’t. Don’t tell me no when all weekend you’ve been wanting yes. Don’t change your mind.’ Her voice broke, and she sucked in a desperate breath. ‘You’ve said you want me. I want you. I want to feel…’ She shook her head, not willing to admit the truth.

She wanted to feel loved. Loved.

Cormac leaned forward. ‘I just don’t want there to be any regrets,’ he said.