Читать книгу The Platinum Collection - Эбби Грин, Maisey Yates - Страница 59

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

ELIZABETH woke up on Sunday morning and was instantly aware of the man lying in the bed he hadn’t shared with her before last night—the sound of his breathing, the warmth emanating from his naked body, the memories of intense pleasure in their lovemaking. Harry Finn...

She rolled onto her back to look at him, a smile twitching at her lips. He was still asleep. Her gaze wandered over every part of him that was not covered by the bed sheet—the strongly muscled shoulders and arms, the ruggedly masculine face with its slightly crooked nose, the black curls flopping over his forehead, the five o’clock shadow on his jaw. Her man, she thought, at least for the time being.

It felt slightly weird but definitely liberating to have thrown out her rule book on how life should be led, diving straight into the deep end with Harry and not caring if it was a big mistake. Lucy’s comment yesterday—you never know when something might strike us dead so we do what we want to do—had made it seem stupid to deny herself what Harry could give her out of fear that she’d made a rash choice and this lovely time with him probably wouldn’t last.

So what if it didn’t!

She was thirty years old. Why not experience all the pleasure she could with this man? When—if—it ended, at least she would have had the most marvellous sex any woman could have.

She wondered if Lucy was feeling the same about Michael. Was he as good a lover as his brother? Did being in love make it better? It was far too soon to say she was in love with Harry but he was much—nicer—than she had ever thought he could be, not like a superficial playboy at all. He really did care about her feelings.

His eyes suddenly flicked open, instantly catching her looking at him. ‘Hi!’ he said, his mouth curving into a happy smile.

She smiled back. ‘Hi to you, too!’

‘How long have you been awake?’

She reached out and ran a finger down his nose. ‘Long enough to wonder how this got broken.’

He laughed and rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow, answering her good-humouredly. ‘Rugby tackle. It made a bloody mess of my nose but I stopped the other guy from scoring a try and we won the game.’

‘Sport,’ she said, mentally correcting her former prejudice that had decided the injury had come out of a misspent youth. ‘Jack Pickard told me you’d been good at all sports in your teens. He reckoned you could have been a champion on any playing field.’

He cocked an eyebrow at her. ‘You were asking him about me?’

‘No. I was being told about you. But I am asking now. Tell me about those years, Harry. What were your proudest moments in sport?’

* * *

He was happy to talk about them, basking in her interest. For two years she had rejected knowing more about him, always projecting the attitude that he wasn’t worth knowing. That glacier of disinterest had definitely thawed over the past two days.

‘Did you ever dream of competing in the Olympic Games? Or representing Australia in rugby or cricket?’ she asked.

He shook his head. ‘I simply enjoyed sport. I never aimed to make a career out of it. Mickey and I wanted to join Dad in the business. He used to talk to us about what he was doing, what he was planning. It was creative, challenging, exciting....’ He grinned. ‘And you made your own rules, no toeing a line drawn for you by sport officialdom.’

‘You were lucky to have a father like that, Harry.’

Not like hers.

He saw it in her eyes, heard it in the tinge of sad envy in her voice. He remembered what she had told him about her own father and realised how cautious she would be about her relationships with men, judging them on character before allowing them into her life. Playboy—womaniser—that would be a firm no-no regardless of physical attraction. No doubt she would instantly back off from anyone showing a bent towards drinking too much alcohol, as well.

A very strong-minded woman.

Her sister’s anchor.

She’d been a challenge to him and he hadn’t looked any further than winning her over, having her like this, but he found himself wanting to prove she was safe with him. He was not one of the bad guys.

‘I’m going to be the same kind of father to my children,’ he said firmly.

It raised her eyebrows. ‘You see a future with a family in it?’

‘Yes, I do. Don’t you?’

She looked uncertain. ‘I don’t know anymore. I feel a bit adrift at the moment, Harry.’

She had probably dreamed of it with Mickey and that dream was gone. He understood her sense of being adrift. He didn’t know how deep it went until much later in the day.

* * *

Lunch with Lucy and Michael again before they headed back to the mainland. Elizabeth felt no stress about joining them. She wanted to observe how well they were responding to each other, watch for any pricks in their bubble of happiness. It troubled her that Lucy saw her dyslexia as a possible breaking point. She wished she could have given her sister an assurance that it wouldn’t be.

It was a problem, no denying it. She suspected it played a big part in Lucy’s flightiness, why relationships and jobs never lasted long. It wasn’t a happy position—being thought defective. If Michael ever did think it and rejected her sister on that basis, Elizabeth knew she would hate him for it.

As soon as they were all seated in the restaurant and handed menus with the limited list of four starters, four mains and four sweets, Elizabeth mused over all of them out loud so Lucy could make her choice without having to say she’d have the same as someone else. Often in restaurants a waiter listed Specials which made a selection easy, but that wasn’t the case here.

Lucy grinned at her, eyes sparkling gratitude, and it was obvious that nothing had changed between her and Michael. They still looked besotted with each other, and the meal progressed in a very congenial atmosphere.

Until they were sitting over coffee at the end of it.

‘Any prospects for the position of manager here, Harry?’ Michael asked.

He shrugged. ‘A few résumés have come in. I haven’t called for any interviews yet. Elizabeth may want to stay on now that she’s on top of the job.’

‘Elizabeth is mine!’ Michael shot at him with a vexed look.

‘No!’ tripped straight out of her mouth.

The vexed look was instantly transferred to her. ‘Don’t tell me Harry has seduced you into staying here.’

‘No, I won’t be staying here beyond the month he needs to find someone suitable.’

As beautiful as the island was, it was a getaway, too isolated from a normal social life for her to stay on indefinitely, too far away from Lucy, too. Besides, if the affair with Harry ran cold, she’d feel trapped here.

‘So you come back to me,’ Michael insisted.

She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, Michael, but I don’t want to do that, either.’

Being his PA wasn’t a straightforward work situation anymore. The personal connections that had started this week—him and Lucy, herself and Harry—made it too emotionally complicated for her to feel comfortable about working closely with him.

‘Why not?’ he persisted.

She was acutely aware of Lucy listening and needed to dissuade her sister from thinking it was because of her. ‘Being here this week made me realise I want a change. Try something different. I’d appreciate it if you’d take this as my notice, Michael.’

He wasn’t happy. He glared at his brother. ‘Goddammit, Harry! If it wasn’t for you...’

‘Hey!’ Harry held up his hands defensively. ‘I’m not getting her, either.’

‘Please...’ Elizabeth quickly broke in, feeling the rise of tension around the table. ‘I don’t want to cause trouble. I just want to take a different direction with my life.’

‘But you’re brilliant as my PA,’ Michael argued, still annoyed at being put out.

‘I’m sorry. You’ll just have to find someone else.’

She wasn’t about to budge from this stance. It felt right to divorce herself from both the Finn men as far as work was concerned. Whatever developed in a personal sense had to be something apart from professional ties, not tangled up with how she earned her income.

‘Why not try out Lucy as your PA?’ Harry suggested to Michael with an airy wave of his hand. ‘She’s probably as brilliant as her sister.’

Lucy looked aghast, panic in her eyes.

‘It’s not her kind of thing,’ Elizabeth said firmly.

Michael frowned and turned to her sister. ‘You do work in administration, Lucy,’ he remarked quizzically.

‘I’m the front person who deals with people, Michael,’ she rushed out. ‘I don’t do the desk work. I’m good at helping people, understanding what they want, helping them to decide...there’s quite a bit of that in cemetery administration. And I like it,’ she added for good measure, pleading for him to drop the issue.

He grimaced, accepting that Lucy was no easy solution to his problem.

She reached out and touched his hand, desperate to restore his good humour with her. ‘I’m sorry I can’t fill Ellie’s place.’

The grimace tilted up into a soothing smile. ‘I shouldn’t have expected it. You are a people person and I like that, Lucy. I wouldn’t want to change it.’

Elizabeth saw relief pouring through the smile beamed back at him. Another hurdle safely jumped, she thought. Yet hiding the dyslexia from Michael couldn’t go on forever and there was one thing she needed from him before the situation could get horribly messed up.

‘I hope you’ll give me a good reference, Michael.’

He sighed and turned a rueful smile to her. ‘It will be in the mail tomorrow. I hate losing you but I wish you well, Elizabeth.’

‘Thank you.’

* * *

Harry didn’t like Elizabeth’s decision any more than Mickey did. She was cutting ties with them, closing doors, and he didn’t know her reasons for it. This morning he could have sworn she was over her emotional fixation on his brother but if that was true, why give up her job with him? It was a top-line position and on the salary front Harry doubted she could better it.

He had offered her an alternative but she wasn’t taking up that option. It was understandable that staying on the island long-term would not suit her. She and her sister lived together and were obviously close—family who really counted as family, like him and Mickey. Apart from that, if she wanted to rejoin the social swing, Cairns was the place to do it.

He didn’t like this thought, either. It meant she didn’t see much of a future with him, which raised the question in his mind—how much of a future did he want with her?

She touched places in him that no other woman had, but did he do the same to her? More time together should sort that out, but there was one thing he needed to know right now because it was twisting up his gut.

Was she still using him to fight off her feelings for Mickey?

* * *

Elizabeth silently fretted over whether she had spoken her mind too soon, aware that her announcements had upset the happy mood around the table. Although Michael had accepted her decision on the surface, it was obvious from the stony glances he threw at Harry that he blamed his brother for it and was barely holding in his frustration over the situation. Her nerves picked up tension emanating from Harry. Lucy kept looking anxiously at her. No one chose to eat any of the petit fours that accompanied coffee.

As soon as Elizabeth had finished her cappuccino, Lucy pushed back her chair and rose to her feet. ‘I’m off to the ladies’ room. Will you come with me, Ellie?’ Her eyes begged agreement.

‘Of course,’ she said, immediately rising to join her sister.

The barrage started the moment they were closeted in the ladies’ room. ‘Why are you leaving your great job with Michael? He’s not happy about it.’

Elizabeth shook her head. ‘It’s not my mission in life to keep Michael happy,’ she said dryly.

‘But you always said you loved that job.’

‘I did, but it’s high pressure, Lucy. I didn’t realise how much it demanded of me until I came out here. I don’t want to be constantly on my toes anymore. I want to look for something else—more relaxed, less stressful.’

‘Then it’s not because of me and him?’ she said worriedly.

‘No,’ Elizabeth lied. ‘I’m sorry Michael is unhappy about it but I don’t think he’ll take it out on you, Lucy. If he does, he’s not the man for you.’

She heaved a sigh. ‘You’re right. Okay. It’s completely fair for you to look for something else. He’s just got to lump being put out by it.’

‘You can play nurse and soothe his frustration,’ Elizabeth said with a smile.

Lucy laughed.

It eased the tension on that front.

However, Michael’s displeasure with her decision made the farewells after lunch somewhat strained. Elizabeth hoped that Lucy’s company would be bright enough to move his annoyance aside. She hadn’t meant to spoil their day.

Harry followed her into the administration office, obviously intent on pursuing the issue of her leaving his employ, as well, although he shouldn’t have any grievance with her. She had only ever agreed to the month needed for him to find another manager.

Wanting to clear that deck, she swung around to face him, quickly saying, ‘I won’t stay on, Harry. I didn’t promise to.’

His grim expression surprised her. The laser-blue eyes were so hard and piercing, her heart jumped into a gallop. The air between them seemed to gather an intensity that played havoc with her nerves.

‘Why did you throw in your job with Mickey?’ he shot at her.

‘I explained why,’ she said defensively.

‘You waffled to whitewash the true reason,’ he accused. ‘Tell me, Elizabeth.’

He had no right to delve into her private reading of a highly personal situation for herself and her sister. It was not his business. It was the involvement with his brother that was the problem and she was not about to spell that out.

‘I’m sorry you thought it was waffle.’ She shrugged. ‘I don’t know what else to say.’

His mouth thinned in frustration. He shook his head at her refusal to open up to him. ‘I knew you were using me on Friday night,’ he stated bitingly. ‘That whole scenario at the pavilion villa was more about Michael and Lucy than being with me. I want to know if what you’ve done with me since then and what you decided today was also driven by your feelings for my brother.’

Her face flamed with shame at how she had used him and her mind jammed with shock that he could believe she was still doing it. ‘No!’ she cried, forcing her feet forward to go to him, her eyes pleading forgiveness for her brutal lack of caring for his feelings. ‘I don’t even think of Michael anymore, not with any wanting in my mind or heart,’ she said vehemently. ‘I haven’t been using you, Harry. Even on Friday night I was confused about why I was doing what I did with you.’

She reached him and laid her hands on his chest, meeting his scouring gaze with open honesty. ‘Since then, I swear I’ve enjoyed every minute with you, wanting to know the person you are, liking what I’m learning about you. Please don’t think any of it was related to your brother.’

He frowned, not yet appeased by her outcry. ‘Then why not work for Mickey?’

She grimaced at his persistence. ‘Maybe I just don’t want to be reminded of how silly I was. A break is better, Harry.’ She slid her hands up around his neck and pressed her body to his, craving the wild warmth and excitement of his desire again. ‘Can we forget about Michael now? Please?’

His eyes still scoured hers for the truth. His hands gripped her waist hard as though he was in two minds whether to pull her closer or push her away. ‘He’s my brother,’ he said gruffly.

And Lucy was her sister, whom Michael could hurt very badly.

‘Does that mean I have to work for him or I’ll lose any interest you have in me, Harry?’

Again his brow beetled down. ‘That’s not the point.’

‘Good! Because as much as I want what you and I are having together, I won’t let any man dictate how I lead my life.’

That was a core truth.

She wanted a partner in life, not a lord and master.

* * *

Harry believed her. There was a strength in this woman that had always challenged him. As much as it had frustrated him in the past, he admired the way she made a decision and stuck to it. A warrior woman, he thought wryly, one who would fight tooth and nail for what she believed was right.

Yet she was vulnerable to the womanly needs that he’d tapped into. The wanting for him was in the soft giving of her body appealing to his, the hand-lock at the back of his neck, the slight pouting of her mouth waiting for a kiss that would blow everything else away. The challenge in her eyes burned into his brain. She was his for the taking, not Mickey’s, and the compulsion to take her forced him to set all reservations aside.

He kissed her.

She kissed him back.

And Harry revelled in the sense that this was a true beginning of a relationship that promised to be more right than any he had known.