Читать книгу The Platinum Collection: An Australian Conquest - Emma Darcy - Страница 11

CHAPTER THREE

ELIZABETH knew she’d be paired with Harry for the stroll along the boardwalk to the marina, and she was. There was no point in trying to fight for Michael’s company. His preference for Lucy to be at his side had been made so clear, pride dictated that the arrangement be accepted with as much dignified grace as she could muster.

The two of them walked ahead and it was sickening watching the connection between them flourishing. Lucy, of course, was never short of a word, and Michael was lapping up every one of them, enjoying her bubbly personality. It wouldn’t last, Elizabeth told herself, but that was no consolation. The damage was done. Lucy had achieved in one minute flat what she had been unable to draw from Michael in two years. Even if he turned to her later on, she would never be able to forget that.

The boardwalk ran along the water’s edge of the park adjoining The Esplanade, and she tried to distract herself with the people they passed; couples lounging under the shade of trees, children making use of the play areas set up for them, boys scaling the rock-climb. It was a relief that Harry was leaving her to her silence for a while. It was difficult to cope with him at the best of times, and this was the worst.

She could have chosen to tell Lucy about her secret passion for her boss. That would have warned her off although she wouldn’t have understood it. It simply wasn’t in Lucy to pine for a man who didn’t respond to her as she wanted him to respond. She probably would have looked aghast and said, ‘Throw him away, Ellie. He’s not that into you if you’ve waited this long for him to make a move.’

That truth was staring her in the face right now.

And it hurt.

It hurt so badly, she had to keep blinking back the tears that threatened to well into her eyes. Her chest was so tight she could hardly breathe. She’d been a fool to hope, a fool to think today might be the day. It was never going to happen for her.

‘Ellie...’

It was a jolt to her wounded heart, hearing Harry speak her childhood name in a low, caressing tone.

‘I like it,’ he went on. ‘Much better than Elizabeth. It conjures up a more carefree person, softer, more accessible.’

Her spine stiffened. He was doing it again, digging at her. She shot him a hard, mocking look. ‘Don’t get carried away by it. Lucy simply couldn’t say Elizabeth when she was little. She calls me Ellie out of habit.’

‘And affection, I think.’ There was a look of kindness in his eyes that screwed up her stomach as he added, ‘She doesn’t know she’s hurting you, does she?’

Her mind jammed in disbelief over Harry’s insightful comment. ‘What do you mean?’

He grimaced at her prevarication. ‘Give it up, Ellie. You’re not Mickey’s type. I could have told you so but you wouldn’t have believed me.’

Humiliation burned through her. Her cheeks flamed with it. She tore her gaze from the certain knowledge in Harry Finn’s and stared at his brother’s back—the back Michael had turned on her to be with her sister. How had Harry known what she’d yearned for? Had Michael known, too? She couldn’t bear this. She would have to resign from her job, find another.

‘Don’t worry,’ Harry said soothingly. ‘You can keep on working for him if you want to. Mickey doesn’t have a clue. He’s always had tunnel vision—sets his mind on something and nothing else exists.’

Relief reduced some of the heat. Nevertheless, it was still intensely disturbing that Harry was somehow reading her mind. Or was he guessing, picking up clues from her reactions? She hadn’t admitted anything. He couldn’t really know, could he?

‘On the other hand, it would be much better if you did resign,’ he went on. ‘It’s never good to keep being reminded of failure. And no need to go job-hunting. You can come and work for me.’

Work for him? Never in a million years! It spurred her into tackling him head-on, her eyes blazing with the fire of battle. ‘Let me tell you, Harry Finn, I have never failed at any work Michael has given me and working for you has no appeal whatsoever.’

He grinned at her. ‘Think of the pleasure of saying what you think of me at every turn instead of having to keep yourself bottled up around Mickey.’

‘I am not bottled up,’ she declared vehemently.

He sighed. ‘Why not be honest instead of playing the pretend-game? Your fantasy of having Mickey fall at your feet is never going to come true. Face it. Give it up. Look at me as the best tonic for lovesickness you could have. Balls of fire come out of you the moment I’m around.’

‘That’s because you’re so annoying!’

Her voice had risen to a passionate outburst, loud enough to attract Michael’s and Lucy’s attention, breaking their absorption in each other. They paused in their walk, turning around with eyebrows raised.

‘It’s okay,’ Elizabeth quickly assured them. ‘Harry was just being Harry.’

‘Be nice to Elizabeth, Harry,’ Michael chided. ‘It’s her birthday.’

‘I am being nice,’ he protested.

‘Try harder,’ Michael advised, dismissing the distraction to continue his tête-à-tête with Lucy.

‘Right!’ Harry muttered. ‘We need some control here, Ellie, if you want to pretend there’s nothing wrong in your world.’

‘The only thing wrong in my world is you,’ she muttered back fiercely. ‘And don’t call me Ellie.’

‘Elizabeth reigns,’ he said in mock resignation.

She bit her lips, determined not to rise to any more of his baits.

They walked on for a while before he started again.

‘This won’t do,’ he said decisively. ‘We’ll be at the restaurant soon. If you sit there in glum silence, I’ll get the blame for it and that’s not fair. It’s not my fault that Mickey’s attracted to your sister. Your best move is to start flirting with me. Who knows? He might suddenly get jealous.’

This suggestion stirred a flicker of hope. Maybe...

The shared laughter from the couple in front of them dashed the hope before it could take wing. Nevertheless, Harry did have a valid point. If she didn’t pretend to be having a good time, even Michael and Lucy would realise this birthday treat was no treat at all for her. She had to look happy even though she couldn’t be happy.

She sighed and slid him a weighing look. ‘You know it won’t mean anything if I flirt with you.’

‘Not a thing!’ he readily agreed.

‘It’s just for the sake of making a cheerful party.’

‘Of course.’

‘It’s obvious that you’re a dyed-in-the-wool playboy, and normally I wouldn’t have anything to do with you, Harry, but since I’m stuck with you on this occasion, I’ll play along for once.’

‘Good thinking! Though I take exception to the playboy tag. I do know how to play, which I consider an important part of living—something I suspect you do too little of—but that’s not all I am.’

‘Whatever...’ She shrugged off any argument about his personality. Arguing would only get her all heated again and she needed to be calm, in control of herself. Harry was right about that.

They’d walked past the yacht club and were on the path to the cocktail bar adjoining the restaurant when Harry made his next move.

‘Hey, Mickey!’ he called out. ‘I’ll buy the girls cocktails while you see the maître d’ about our table.’

‘Okay’ was tossed back at him, his attention reverting to Lucy with barely a pause.

‘No doubt about it, he’s besotted,’ Harry dryly commented. ‘How old are you today, Elizabeth?’

‘Thirty,’ she answered on a defeated sigh. No point in hiding it.

‘Ah! The big three zero. Time to make a change.’

Precisely what she had thought. And still had to think now that Michael had proved his disinterest in her personally.

‘Go with me on this,’ Harry urged.

‘Go with you on what?’

‘Something I was discussing with Mickey this morning. I’ll bring it up again after lunch. Just don’t dismiss it out of hand. It would be the perfect change for you.’

‘You couldn’t possibly know what’s perfect for me, Harry,’ she said sceptically.

He cocked a teasing eyebrow. ‘I might just be a better judge on that than you think I am.’

She shook her head, her eyes mocking this particular belief in himself.

He grinned. ‘Wait and see.’

She wasn’t about to push him on it. Harry enjoyed being tantalising. Elizabeth had found her best course was simply to show complete disinterest. In this case, she couldn’t care less what he had in mind. All she cared about was getting through lunch without showing how miserable she was.

Michael left them at the cocktail bar, striding swiftly into the restaurant to speak to the maître d’, obviously in a hurry to get back to Lucy. Harry led them to a set of two-seater lounges with a low table in between and saw them settled with her and Lucy facing each other.

‘Now, let me select cocktails for you both,’ he said, the vivid blue eyes twinkling confidence in his choices. ‘A Margarita for you, Elizabeth.’

It surprised her that he’d actually picked her favourite. ‘Why that one?’ she asked, curious about his correct guessing.

He grinned. ‘Because you’re the salt of the earth and I revere you for it.’

She rolled her eyes. The day Harry Finn showed any reverence for her was yet to dawn. He was just making a link to the salt-encrusted rim of the glass that was always used for a Margarita cocktail.

‘You’re right on both counts,’ Lucy happily volunteered. ‘Ellie loves Margaritas and she is the salt of the earth. I don’t know what I’d do without her. She’s always been my anchor.’

‘An anchor,’ Harry repeated musingly. ‘I think that’s what’s been missing from my life.’

‘An anchor would only weigh you down, Harry,’ Elizabeth put in dryly. ‘It would feel like an albatross around your neck.’

‘Some chains I wouldn’t mind wearing.’

‘Try gold.’

He laughed.

‘Do you two always spar like this?’ Lucy asked, eyeing them speculatively.

‘Sparks invariably fly,’ Harry claimed.

It was on the tip of her tongue to say she invariably hosed them down, remembering just in time that flirting was the order of this afternoon, so she gave him an arch look and said, ‘I would have to admit that being with Harry is somewhat invigorating.’

Lucy laughed and clapped her hands. ‘Oh, I love it! What a great lunch we’ll all have together!’ Her eyes sparkled at Harry. ‘What cocktail will you choose for me?’

‘For the sunshine girl... A Piña Colada.’

She clapped her hands again. ‘Well done, Harry. That’s my favourite.’

‘At your service.’ He twirled his hand in a salute to them both and headed off to the bar.

Lucy was beside herself with delight. ‘He’s just what you need, Ellie. Loads of fun. You’ve been carrying responsibility for so long, it’s well past time you let loose and had a wild flutter for once. Be a butterfly instead of a worker bee.’

At least she didn’t say moth, Elizabeth thought wryly.

‘I might just do that,’ she drawled, encouraging the idea there was a connection between her and Harry.

‘Go for it,’ Lucy urged, bouncing forward on her seat in excitement. ‘I’m going for Michael. He’s an absolute dreamboat. I’m so glad I wasn’t held up any longer at the cemetery. I might have missed out on meeting him. Why didn’t you tell me your boss was gorgeous?’

‘I’ve always thought him a bit cold,’ she said carefully.

Lucy threw up her hands in exasperation at her sister’s lack of discernment. ‘Believe me. The guy is hot! He makes me sizzle.’

Elizabeth shrugged. ‘I guess it’s a matter of chemistry. Harry is the hot one for me.’ It wasn’t entirely a lie. He frequently raised her temperature...with anger or annoyance.

Lucy heaved a happy sigh. ‘Brothers and sisters...wouldn’t it be great if we ended up together...all happy families.’

Elizabeth’s mind reeled from even considering such a prospect. ‘I think that’s a huge leap into the future. Let’s just take one day at a time.’

‘Oh, you’re always so sensible, Ellie.’

‘Which is something I value very highly in your sister,’ Michael declared, picking up on Lucy’s words and smiling warmly at Elizabeth as he returned, but he seated himself beside Lucy, who instantly switched on a brilliant smile for him, fulsomely agreeing, ‘Oh, I do, too. But I also want Ellie to have fun.’

‘Which is where I come in,’ Harry said, also catching Lucy’s words as he came back. His eyes danced wicked mischief at Elizabeth. ‘Starting with cocktails. The bartender will bring them over. Here are the peanuts and pretzels.’

He placed a bowl of them on the table and settled himself beside Elizabeth, too closely for her comfort. She wanted to shift away and somehow Harry knew it, instantly throwing her a challenging look that made her sit still and suffer his male animal impact. If she was really attracted to him, she would welcome it. Playing this pretend-game was not going to be easy, but she had to now in front of Lucy.

Her sister turned her smile to Harry. ‘What cocktail did you order for Michael?’

‘A Manhattan. Mickey is highly civilised. He actually forgets about sunshine until it sparkles over him.’

Lucy laughed. ‘And yourself?’

‘Ah, the open sea is my business. I’m a salty man so I share Elizabeth’s taste for Margaritas.’

‘The open sea?’ Lucy queried.

‘Harry looks after the tourist side of Finn’s Fisheries,’ Michael answered. ‘I take care of buying in the stock for all our franchises.’

‘Ah!’ Lucy nodded, understanding why Harry was dressed the way he was and how very different the brothers were.

Why she was attracted to Michael and not Harry was beyond Elizabeth’s understanding. Sunshine and sea should go together. They both had frivolous natures. It wasn’t fair that sexual chemistry had struck in the wrong place. Why couldn’t it strike sensibly?

The bartender arrived with their cocktails.

Harry handed her the Margarita and clicked his glass against hers. ‘Happy Birthday, Elizabeth,’ he said warmly, making her squirm inside even as she forced a smile and thanked him.

The others followed suit with their glasses and well-wishing.

Elizabeth settled back against the cushions and sipped her cocktail, silently brooding over the totally non-sensible ironies of life. Was there any reward for being sensible? The old saying that good things come to those who wait was not proving true for her.

She wondered how long was the life of a butterfly.

Probably very short.

But it might be sweet if she could bring herself to be a butterfly—just cut loose from all her safety nets and fly wild for a while, thinking of nothing but having a good time. She should take a vacation, get right away from whatever was developing between Michael and Lucy, try drowning her misery with mindless pleasures.

The Margarita was good. And it packed quite a punch. Maybe if she stopped being sensible and had two or three of them, her mind would get fuzzy enough to put this whole situation at an emotional distance, let her float through lunch...like a butterfly.