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Secrets In The Boardroom: A Perfect Husband / The Boss's Secret Mistress / Between the CEO's Sheets
Secrets In The Boardroom: A Perfect Husband / The Boss's Secret Mistress / Between the CEO's Sheets
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Secrets In The Boardroom: A Perfect Husband / The Boss's Secret Mistress / Between the CEO's Sheets

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“I called. Your phone didn’t seem to be working.”

She tried to get her tired brain around the astounding fact that Zane hadn’t abandoned her, entirely. Although, there was nothing loverlike about his demeanor now. A lightbulb went on in her head. “Don’t tell me you thought I could have leaked the story because I’m angling to be Lucas’s mistress?”

“Or to break Lucas and Carla up.”

For a vibrating moment she struggled against the desire to empty what was left of her coffee down his front. Instead, she set her laptop down and, stepping close, ran her finger down Zane’s chest, pausing over the steady thud of his heart. “Why would I, when as you so eloquently put it, I’ve already got the real thing?”

Heat flared in his gaze. His fingers closed around her wrist, trapping her palm against the wall of his chest. “Past tense, Lilah. You were the one who walked out.”

Shock reverberated through her that he could possibly have wanted her to stay. “I didn’t think you were … serious.”

His gaze was unnervingly steady. “One-night stands are not exactly my thing.”

The heat from his chest burned into her palm. “So all those stories in the press about you and who knows how many gorgeous women are untrue?”

His free hand curled around her nape. He reeled her in a little closer. “Mostly.”

Honest, but still dangerous. Distantly, she registered that this was what she had so badly wanted from Zane two days ago. He had finally come after her and in true pirate fashion was seemingly intent on dragging her back to bed. “So, in theory then, the press could have lied about me.”

He leaned forward; his lips feathered her jaw sending a hot tingle of sensation through her. “It’s possible.”

“I’m not interested in breaking Lucas and Carla up.”

“Good, because I have a proposition for you.” He bit down gently on her lobe. “Two days on an island paradise. You and me.”

Sensation shimmered through her, briefly blanking her mind. So that was what it was like, she thought a little breathlessly. She had read that the earlobe was an erogenous zone. Now, finally, she could attest to that fact.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The idea of an exciting interlude with Zane before she started work and became once more embroiled in her search for a stable, trustworthy husband, was unbearably seductive. There were no good reasons to go, only bad ones. “Yes.”

She caught the quick flash of his grin before his mouth closed on hers, and for long seconds she forgot to breathe.

Ten minutes later, Lilah found herself installed in the rear seat of a limousine, Zane beside her and the familiar figure of Spiros behind the wheel. A short drive later and they pulled into a picturesque marina.

She examined the ranks of gleaming superyachts, launches and sailboats tied up to a neat series of jetties. “This doesn’t look like the Atraeus Resort.”

“It’s a nice day. I thought you might enjoy the boat ride.”

Spiros opened her door, distracting her. When she turned back to Zane, the seat next to her was empty. Zane was already out of the limousine, his jacket off and draped over one shoulder. Following suit, she climbed out, wincing at the dazzling brightness of sunlight reflecting off white boats. Finding her sunglasses, she slid them onto the bridge of her nose.

By that time, Spiros, who she had noticed had not met her gaze once during the last few minutes, had her cases out of the trunk. Zane was already halfway down the jetty and untying ropes. The boat trip to the resort seemed to be a fait accompli, so Lilah followed in Spiros’s wake, determined to enjoy the sunny day and the spectacular sea views.

By the time she reached the sleek white yacht, her cases were already stowed. Zane extended his hand and helped her climb aboard.

Almost instantly the engine hummed to life. Spiros walked along the jetty, released the last rope and tossed it over the stern. Lilah couldn’t help noticing that he seemed to be in a hurry. When he didn’t climb aboard she frowned. “Isn’t Spiros coming?”

“Not on this trip.” With deft skill, Zane maneuvered the yacht out of its berth.

Minutes later, they cleared the marina and the boat picked up speed, wallowing slightly in the chop. Feeling faintly queasy with the motion, Lilah sat down and tried to enjoy the scenery.

Twenty minutes later, her unease turned to suspicion. Instead of hugging the coastline they seemed to be heading for open sea. The coastline of Medinos had receded, and the island of Ambrus loomed ahead.

Dragging strands of hair out of her eyes, she pushed to her feet, gripping the back of her seat to stay upright. “This is not the way to the resort.”

“I’m taking you to Ambrus.”

“There’s nothing on Ambrus.”

His gaze rested briefly on hers. “That’s not strictly true. There’s an unfinished resort on the northern headland.”

The yacht rounded a point and sailed into calmer water. Lilah stared at the curve of the beach ahead and the tumbled wreckage of the old pearl facility, which had been destroyed in the Second World War. It was, literally, a bombsite. In a flash, Spiros’s odd behavior and his hurried exit made sense. Zane had planned this. She gestured at the looming beach. “I didn’t agree to that. You said two days. Paradise.”

Zane throttled back on the engine. “Maybe I wasn’t talking about the scenery.”

An instant flashback to the heated few minutes on Zane’s couch made her blush. “I didn’t exactly find paradise in your hotel room.”

“There wasn’t time. If you’ll recall, you ran out on me.”

Her jaw firmed. When she had landed on Medinos her life had been firmly under control. Somehow in the space of an hour everything had gone to hell in a handbasket again. “I’m booked in at the Atraeus Resort. That’s where I’m staying for the next few weeks.”

“You agreed. Two days.” His jaw tightened. “Or did you want another media furor when Lucas arrives tomorrow?”

She stared at the tough line of his jaw. The dazzling few moments in the customs interview room when she’d been weak enough to allow him to kiss her replayed in her mind. That had been her first mistake. “I assumed you were taking me to my suite at the Atraeus Resort.”

“I apologize for the deception,” he said bluntly, although there was no hint of apology in his gaze. “I’ll take you to Medinos in two days’ time. Once Lucas leaves.”

She stared at the deserted stretch of coastline then back at the distant view of Medinos. She had wanted out of the media circus and she had wanted peace and quiet. It looked like now she was getting both, with a vengeance. “Is there power, an internet connection?”

“There’s a generator. No internet.”

“Then we need to go back to Medinos. I’ll be missed. People will be concerned. Questions will be asked.”

Zane frowned. “Who, exactly, is going to ask these questions?”

Lilah stared fixedly at the horizon, aware that the conversation had drifted into dangerous waters. “I have … friends.”

“It’s only two days.”

A little desperate now, Lilah tried for a vague look. “Online friends. I need to keep in touch.”

Zane’s gaze was unnervingly piercing. “And being away from an internet connection for two days is an issue?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, refusing to be drawn. “It could be.”

After the disappointment with Lucas she had felt an urgency to move along with her marriage project and had committed to a series of dates with her list of potentially perfect husbands. Howard had only been the first. Up until that moment she had been too busy with making arrangements to leave Sydney, and preparing herself for a new life and a new job, to stop and think about the upcoming series of dates she had arranged for a scheduled holiday back home in two weeks’ time.

The sound of the engine changed as they neared shore. The reality of what was happening sank in as the huge, deserted sweep of the crescent bay underlined their complete isolation. “You’re kidnapping me.”

Zane’s brows jerked together. “That’s a little dramatic. We’re staying at a beach house where we can spend some time together, uninterrupted.”

Against all the odds her heart thumped wildly at his bad-tempered, rather blunt statement, which definitely indicated a desire to keep her to himself. She guessed she could excuse him, although not right away.

He had kidnapped her.

She clamped down on the dizzying delight that he wanted her enough to actually commit a crime. After Zane’s behavior in Sydney and her misery when he had failed to come after her, it was a scenario she hadn’t dared consider.

The engine dropped to a low hum. Zane stabbed at a button. The rattle of a chain cut through the charged silence as he dropped anchor.

Lilah watched the grim set of Zane’s shoulders as he studied the chain for a few seconds to make sure the anchor had taken hold. “I suppose on Medinos, trying to get a conviction against an Atraeus is impossible.”

Zane went very still. When he straightened, she realized the faint shaking of his shoulders was laughter. He grinned, suddenly looking rakish. “Not impossible, just highly improbable.”

Ten (#ud90b6dcb-865b-5101-8c13-a633e6e6da34)

The inflatable boat scraped ashore on the pristine white-sand beach. With a fluid movement, Zane climbed out and held it steady against the wash of waves. Ignoring the hand he offered her, Lilah clambered over the side, shoes in one hand, handbag gripped in the other.

Ankle-deep water splashed her calves, surprisingly cold as she stepped onto the firmly packed sand at the shoreline. With muscular ease, Zane pulled the inflatable higher on the beach, unwound rope and tied it to an iron ring attached to a weathered post.

Shielding her eyes from the sun, which was almost directly overhead, Lilah examined the bay. Beyond the post was an expanse of tussock grass interspersed with darker patches of wild thyme and rosemary. Farther back, and to the right, she could see, following the broad curve of an estuary, the remains of sheds. To the right, flanked by a grove of gnarled olive trees, was the ivy-encrusted remnant of what must have once been a grand villa. She instantly knew that this had to be Sebastien Ambrosi’s villa. Sienna and Carla Ambrosi’s grandfather had left Medinos in the 1940s and settled in Broome, Australia, where he had reestablished the Ambrosi Pearls business. “The house looks smaller than I imagined.”

“You knew Sebastien Ambrosi?”

“My mother used to work for him in Broome, seeding and grading pearls. He was very kind to us.” She lifted her shoulders. “I’ve always been fascinated by Ambrosi Pearls, and I’ve always longed to see Ambrus.”

While Zane unloaded their cases, she walked along the beach. From here nothing was visible except the misty line where sea met sky, no land, no Medinos or any other island, just water and isolation.

She studied the Atraeus beach house, which was set back into a curve in the jagged cliffs. Built on three levels, it wasn’t, by any stretch of the imagination, a cottage. Planes of glass glinted in the sun. The teaklike wood and the jutting curves and angles gave it the appearance of a gigantic ship flowing out of the rock. Sited higher than the beach, it no doubt commanded a magnificent view.

“Are you all right?”

She whirled. “You’re holding me prisoner. Other than that, I guess everything is just fine.”

Any hint of amusement winked out of his gaze. “You are not a ‘prisoner.’ I’ve asked a Medinian couple, Jorge and Marta, to stay over for a couple of days. Jorge is a trained butler, and Marta is a chef. I’m trying to keep this as PC as I can.”

“A PC kidnapping.”

His jaw set in an obdurate line. “If you’re hungry, Marta will have lunch ready up at the house.”

Zane breathed a sigh of relief when Lilah appeared, fresh and cool after showering and changing into a white shift, to join him on one of the enormous decks for lunch.

Marta had set out a tempting array of salads and meats. As Zane watched Lilah eat, curiously at home in the wild setting, a sense of possessiveness filled him.

The house on Ambrus was a luxury retreat. He could have brought any number of women he had known here, but he had never been even remotely tempted. Lilah was his first guest. Not that she had seen it that way.

He realized he wasn’t just attracted to Lilah; he liked her, even down to the way she pushed his buttons. She had given him a hard time from the minute he had caught up with her in the airport.

His decision to do whatever it took to keep her with him settled in. She wasn’t ready to admit it yet, or surrender to him, but he was confident he could change that. Deny it as she might, she couldn’t hide the fact that she wanted him.

Until that moment, he hadn’t known how this would work, but now the equation was simple. Lucas had had his chance, and made his choice. He was no longer prepared to allow his brother, or any other man, near her.

Emotion expanded in his chest. After living an admittedly wild, single life, it was something of a U-turn. Until that moment he hadn’t known how much he wanted to make it. He still didn’t know how exactly they would work out a relationship, how long it would last—or if Lilah was even prepared to try, given her agenda—but he was finally prepared to try.

Lilah placed her fork down and smothered a yawn. “I think I’ll go take a nap.”

Zane watched her walk back into the house and determinedly squashed the desire to go after her.

After detaining her at the airport then kidnapping her, carrying her to bed would not improve on the impression he had made. Given that he wanted more than a short-lived liaison, he needed to take a different, more mature, approach.

As much as he wanted to follow up on the promise of those rushed few moments on the couch, he would have to wait.

She didn’t trust him yet. At this point trust was a commodity neither of them possessed.

When Lilah woke, the sun had gone down and she could smell something savory cooking. Pushing back the sheet, which was the only covering she had needed in the balmy heat, she walked through to the lavish marble en suite bathroom to freshen up.

It seemed that even when the Atraeus family holidayed at the beach, it was done with style. After washing her face, she ran a comb through her hair and coiled it into a loose knot on top of her head. Eyes narrowed, she surveyed her crumpled wardrobe. If she was launching herself into a two-day venture of passion, she needed to dress the part.

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?”