Читать книгу Out of Hours...His Feisty Assistant: The Tycoon's Very Personal Assistant / Caught on Camera with the CEO / Her Not-So-Secret Diary - Heidi Rice, Anne Oliver - Страница 17

THE WIND WHIPPED at Kate’s cheeks as the rocky splendour of Big Sur rushed past. Unfortunately, the elemental beauty of the California coastline wasn’t the only thing taking her breath away.

The roar of the convertible’s engine dulled and Kate watched Zack downshift to take another hairpin bend. As the glory and spectacle of America’s legendary Highway One flashed past, the spring sunshine glinted off the Ferrari’s glossy red paintwork and seemed to spotlight the man beside her. Even though he’d finally taken off those sexy specs, all her senses seemed to be heightened, her awareness of him humming through her veins like a potent narcotic.

She studied his profile, the slight cleft in his chin, the hint of a five o’clock shadow on high slashing cheekbones, the Armani sunglasses that didn’t quite hide the tiny laughter lines around his eyes. She battled back the heady sexual thrill that had paralysed her on the plane and took a deep fortifying breath of the fresh sea breeze.

As the car rounded another treacherous bend the dense chaparral bushes on their right gave way to a meadow of lupines, poppies and wild lilacs, blanketing the forbidding cliffs in cheerful blue and purple blossoms. Her heart slowed. What a glorious sight.

Kate closed her eyes, turned her face into the wind and tried to force herself to think sensibly. Okay, this was easily the most romantic place she’d ever been and with the sexiest man she’d ever met. She shoved her hair back, held it behind her head and took another long, calming breath of the salty air. She had to stop herself from being completely and utterly swept off her feet.

She’d known from the start how skilled Zack was in the art of seduction. What she hadn’t realised was how singleminded he could be and how used he was to getting his own way. It seemed nothing could put a dent in that self-confidence. And if his towering ego wasn’t already a big enough mountain to climb, the fact that she was so overwhelmingly attracted to him meant she was trying to scale Mount Everest with one hand tied behind her back.

As the coast road wound around the cliffs like an asphalt ribbon Kate peeked over the edge. It was a long drop to the secluded coves softening the ancient rocks below. But the truth was the whisper of nerves thrilled her as much as they terrified her.

Make that two hands tied behind her back.

The pressure of Zack’s hand on her thigh made her pulse scramble. He squeezed her leg, shot her a quick grin. ‘Awesome isn’t it?’ he shouted above the powerful hum of the Ferrari’s engine and the rushing wind.

‘Absolutely.’And the view wasn’t the only awesome thing on offer. ‘How far is it to The Grange?’

‘About ten miles.’ He rubbed her thigh. ‘Wait till you see it. The location’s to die for.’ He put his hand back on the gear stick. ‘Sit back and relax, not long now.’

Kate settled into the car’s bucket seat and let the sun warm her cheeks—but she knew she’d need knockout drops before she’d be able to relax.

‘Welcome to The Grange.’ Harold Westchester’s sherry-brown eyes glinted with appreciation as he gave Kate’s hand a dignified peck.

The elderly owner of The Grange straightened and shook Zack’s hand. ‘It’s good to meet you in the flesh at last, Boudreaux. I was starting to think you were going to let Robertson close the deal without ever seeing the place.’

Kate caught the mild note of censure in Westchester’s tone. The old guy was clearly miffed Zack had never visited before. The news surprised Kate. The files on The Grange deal showed Zack had been angling to buy the place for over two years. Given his reputation for thoroughness, it seemed odd he had never come to inspect the investment in person.

Maybe that was why he seemed a little agitated. As soon as they’d taken the turn-off leading to the resort, he’d been silent and tense. He’d even stalled the car when they’d parked at the entrance to the hotel lobby.

Westchester had been waiting for them, directing an army of bellboys to handle their luggage. Kate had instantly warmed to the older man. He reminded her of her Grandad Pete, her mother’s father. A wily old fella who would tell it to you straight and always had a ready hug. The fact Westchester didn’t seem the least bit overawed by Zack’s status endeared him to her even more. Nice to know one other person who wasn’t prepared to drop to their knees and start genuflecting as soon as Zack appeared. She might have found an ally.

‘I thought you were coming with Robertson during his visit last week?’Westchester continued, still sounding starchy.

Zack stiffened almost imperceptibly. ‘I was tied up.’ The denial sounded defensive to Kate, which wasn’t like Zack at all.

‘Well, at least you’re here now, young fella.’

Kate had to control the giggle at the old guy’s irascible tone. No, he definitely was not in awe of Zack.

‘I guess we better get you and your pretty assistant checked in,’ Westchester said, winking at Kate.

After signalling his bellboys, he led Kate and Zack into the hotel’s wood panelled lobby. A huge central fireplace accented the high vaulted ceilings, making the place look both spacious and homely at the same time. It was neat and clean and the profusion of wild spring blooms spilling out of the wall-hangings gave it a fresh, cozy ambience. It was beautiful in a sweet, uncomplicated way, but so unlike the sleek exclusivity of Zack’s Vegas hotel Kate wondered what had made him so determined to buy the place and relocate here.

Westchester introduced them to the reception staff using their first names. Kate wondered if the informality was another little dig intended to cut Zack down to size. If it was, Zack didn’t seem to notice.

‘Now, then,’ Westchester began. ‘The Ms Hawthorne who made the reservations said you’d need a two-bed cottage because you’d probably be working late together. So I stuck you in Terra Del Mar. It’s got a shared bath, but it is real pretty. Hope that’s okay?’

The blood surged back into Kate’s cheeks. Mount Everest just got bigger. How on earth was she going to resist Zack’s advances if they were sharing a cottage—and a bathroom?

‘That’s great,’ Zack said, stroking a hand across Kate’s back. In a lower voice, he added, ‘I expect we’ll be having a lot of late nights.’

If Westchester heard the innuendo he didn’t let on. ‘That’s settled, then. How about we get some tall drinks in my quarters while your luggage is taken to your cottage?’

Kate was about to accept when Zack interrupted her. ‘Kate’s tired from the trip. We’ll take a rain check on the drinks.’

‘All right,’ said Westchester evenly.

‘Don’t be silly.’ Ignoring Zack, Kate put a hand on Westchester’s arm. ‘I’d love to have drinks. I’m not the least bit tired.’ And she had no intention of being alone with Zack again so soon. She needed more time to marshal her defences.

‘I’m glad to hear it, young lady.’ Westchester tucked her arm under his, patted her hand. ‘I make a mean martini if I do say so myself.’ But as the older man turned to make the last of the arrangements with his receptionist Zack mouthed the word ‘chicken’ at her.

She blinked at him. Who, me? she mimed back.

He shot her a provocative smile and raised his eyebrows. Her blood pressure soared. Oh, dear.

‘I do hope you like martinis,’ Westchester said as he escorted Kate down the corridor to his private quarters.

‘I adore them,’ Kate replied, having never tasted a martini in her life.

Despite all her efforts to keep the drinks with Westchester going as long as possible, Kate found herself alone with Zack in the Terra Del Mar suite less than an hour later.

Just as Kate had suspected, the place was a romantic dream. Zack couldn’t have picked a better love-nest if he’d arranged it deliberately.

While Zack tipped the bellboys, she inspected the deluxe two-bedroom bungalow. Westchester had called it a ‘cottage’, but she thought the term a little quaint. A large sitting room with an open fireplace led onto a cliff-top terrace. Glancing into the master bedroom, she spotted a huge four-poster bed Sleeping Beauty would have been proud of. The image of her and Zack entwined on the coverlet came to mind and had her slamming the door shut.

‘You want the double or the single?’

She whipped round at the sound of Zack’s voice. He looked relaxed and amused with his butt propped against the back of an armchair. He’d taken off his jacket and slung it over the chair—and was studying her with an intensity that made her wonder if he’d just read her mind, again.

‘I…’ She stopped, cleared her throat. ‘I’ll take the single, thank you.’

He began rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, displaying tanned, muscled forearms sprinkled with dark hair. Kate’s mouth dried up.

‘You sure?’ he asked, crossing his arms. ‘Maybe we should conserve energy and share the double?’

‘That’s more likely to generate energy than conserve it,’ she shot back.

He laughed. ‘You’ve got that right.’

Her face wasn’t the only thing starting to heat up and she suspected he knew it from the way he was watching her. Tearing her eyes away, she walked past him onto the terrace.

‘Wow, this view is incredible,’ she exclaimed, maybe a bit too loudly as she walked across the redwood deck.

Although she was far too aware of the man behind her, she wasn’t wrong about the stunning natural beauty before her. Leaning on the rail, she gazed out over the rocky promontory. The ocean swirled below them, the waves crashing onto a sandy cove accessed by a steep wooden staircase anchored into the cliff. Secluded and spectacular, the cottage seemed to cast almost as potent a spell as the man. Spotting the bubbling hot tub at the end of the terrace, Kate deliberately turned away from it and let the brisk breeze cool her cheeks. Okay, probably best not to go there yet either.

The soft thud of his footsteps on the wooden boards seemed louder than the crash of the ocean below her. Warm hands smoothed over her belly and pulled her back against a solid chest. Zack’s breath whispered against her ear as his arms hugged her midriff. ‘You can’t run away for ever, you know.’

She shuddered as his thumbs traced her hip bones. Her breath hitched. She fought back the swell of pleasure, turned in his arms. Seeing him so close, the deep green of his eyes, the harsh demand on his face, smelling that tantalising scent of soap and man and sexual intimacy, she realised he was right. But letting him know it was another thing entirely. After allowing him to get the upper hand on the plane so easily, she had a lot of catching up to do.

‘I’m not running away. I’m standing my ground,’ she said tartly. ‘It just so happens I don’t like to be pushed. And up till now you’ve been a bit pushy, Boudreaux.’

Passion flared hot and intense in his eyes as he pulled her hard against him. ‘See that’s where you’re wrong. I’m not being pushy. I’m being honest.’ He sank his fingers into her hair, scraped it back from her face. ‘Unlike you.’

Fisting his fingers in the wayward curls, he captured her lips in a raw hungry kiss. Her mouth opened involuntarily and his tongue swept inside her mouth as every single nerveending in her body stood to attention.

Her breath panted out, the flames burning so strong, so fierce, she knew she would soon be overwhelmed. Her hands gripped his shoulders, felt the hard, unyielding muscle, the tensile strength beneath the smooth linen of his shirt, and held him back as she tore her lips away.

So much for fighting fire with fire—all she’d done was set off an inferno.

‘I want you,’ he murmured, his hand stroking her backside. ‘Let’s stop playing games.’

‘I’m not the one playing games. You are.’

He stared at her. ‘How do you figure that?’ His breathing was a little harsh, his voice huskier than before. The knowledge gave her a much needed burst of power.

Maybe she couldn’t throw his confidence, his arrogance, his conviction that he would soon have her again back in his face. After all, her erect nipples were practically boring a hole in his chest, her sex was so swollen and ready for him she had to clamp her thighs tight to stop her knees from giving way. And the heady masculine scent of him was making her head spin. But she could at least get things back on an even footing.

‘I’m not prepared to jump every time you click your fingers, Zack. I want some ground rules.’

‘What rules?’ he asked, incredulous, his eyes skimming down her figure. He didn’t sound quite so calm and in control any more. It was music to Kate’s ears.

‘Rule Number One,’ she announced, easing his arms down. ‘Just because Zack is the boss in the boardroom, does not mean he’s the boss in the bedroom.’

He let her go. ‘You ought to know by now, I don’t play by anyone’s rules but my own.’ He cursed softly and raked his fingers through his hair. ‘But I guess I can give you some more time to figure that out.’

She wanted to argue with him, to take offence at his dictatorial manner, his cast-iron confidence, but not a single word would come out of her mouth. Because she knew, if he’d pressed the point, they’d already be breaking all the rules. And her body wouldn’t be putting up an argument.

He left her standing at the rail and marched back into the cottage. He turned in the doorway and her eyes took in the impressive bulge in his trousers. ‘You’ve got a little while, Kate, to get used to the idea. But after that I intend to have you again. And by then, you won’t want to stop me.’

She stood dumbstruck as he walked off to the smaller bedroom, snagging his suitcase on the way. Now why did the audacious statement sound more like a promise than a threat?