Читать книгу His After-Hours Mistress: The Rich Man's Reluctant Mistress - Trish Wylie - Страница 7

LUCINDA studied her wardrobe, wondering what to wear for her evening out with Zane Alexander. The red slinky number, or perhaps something more decorous? She didn’t want him getting the wrong impression. How about the amber suit? Or even the lime-green dress, which everyone else hated but she loved? It was certainly demure.

She had thought long and hard about accepting Zane’s dinner invitation but ultimately decided to put her personal issues about him to one side. This project was too good an opportunity to miss. Now, though, as she stepped into an elegant black dress, she wondered whether she was doing the right thing.

A job in St Lucia! It sounded too good to be true. Except that she would be out there with Zane, a man she didn’t particularly like. But whom she found devastatingly attractive! It was an admission she hated making—but it happened to be true. There really was something about him that could not be ignored.

Would he stay while she developed thoughts and ideas? Would he want to talk them over with her as she went along? Or would he simply show her around and then wait to hear what suggestions she came up with?

He was a very busy man, of that she was well aware. When she had looked after his two-year-old son, Zane had spent very little time at home. In fact Tim had rarely seen him. Zane was not a good father. On the other hand, perhaps because of Tim, he would not stay on the island the whole time she was there—unless, of course, he had business interests in St Lucia? It could well be the case.

They certainly had a lot to discuss.

And time was running out. Zane was picking her up at seven-thirty; he would expect her to be ready. She finished her make-up and ran a final brush through her hair. It was long and silky, almost to her waist, and her pride and joy. At the last minute, though, she decided to sweep it up. She didn’t want Zane Alexander thinking she looked anything less than professional.

She watched for him to arrive and was out of the door almost before he had stopped his car. Lucinda lived with her mother and stepfather in a large house where she had her own suite of offices. It didn’t really suit her and her bank balance was such these days that she was almost ready to buy a place of her own. In fact she’d been looking at property only the other day.

‘A lady who’s prompt,’ commented Zane with a dry smile, jumping out to open the door for her. ‘I like that. And may I say how elegant you look.’

Lucinda inclined her head in thanks. Zane looked pretty good himself in an oatmeal linen jacket and crisp dark trousers, and as he slid into the sleek silver Mercedes beside her the faint smell of his cologne wafted beneath her nostrils. It was masculine and woody and reminded her of nights spent on an exotic island paradise.

She suddenly realised where her mind was going and checked it. How would she know what it felt like? Was she thinking about the job that lay ahead? Was it wishful thinking? Never! Not with Zane Alexander. Not in a million years.

Besides, wasn’t he married? Not that there’d been a wife around. Maybe they were divorced. Maybe there wasn’t a Mrs Alexander any longer. Maybe she’d dumped the child on him on that occasion and, Zane being Zane, he hadn’t wanted to give up his precious time.

‘You must be doing rather well for yourself, judging by where you live,’ commented Zane as he pulled away from the house.

‘It’s not mine,’ she answered quickly. ‘It belongs to my stepfather. I’m moving out shortly.’

‘You’re not happy there?’ he asked intuitively.

Perhaps her tone had given too much away. But she didn’t get on well with David Goldberg. He had once told her that she hadn’t the imagination of a sparrow and would never enter the world of business. How she had loved proving him wrong. Her own father had died when she was fifteen and her mother had remarried far too quickly in Lucinda’s opinion. They’d gone from being very poor to very rich in a short space of time; not that she had accepted any help from her stepfather when setting up her design company.

‘I feel it’s time I have a place of my own,’ she answered quietly.

‘Of course.’

She had expected him to probe, to make some disparaging remark about her still living at home, but he didn’t.

‘How old are you?’ he asked instead.

‘Twenty-eight,’ she answered.

‘And running your own successful business. Congratulations.’

His compliment pleased her.

‘What is your ambition?’ He kept his eyes on the road in front where it looked like a young mother was ready to roll a pushchair out in front of them. ‘To have a team of workers under you so that you can sit back and count your pennies? Or to always be a hands-on person?’

Lucinda thought she heard sarcasm and tossed her head. ‘Ultimately I want to get married and have children. I love children; I used to earn money looking after them when I was a student.’

‘The nanny job?’

Lucinda nodded. ‘I could have made it a career but it would have been a waste of the design course I was taking. I’d always set my heart on interior design. Each job is different. It’s a new challenge. I love it.’

‘Then I shall very much look forward to showing you over my place in St Lucia.’

‘You’re assuming I’ll take the job?’ she questioned, glancing at him, seeing nothing but the hard contours of his profile. Until he turned briefly to look at her and she caught a twinkle in his smoky eyes.

‘I thought you already had,’ he said. ‘Otherwise why would you be here?’ And he looked back at the road.

There was nothing more for Lucinda to say. There was trepidation in her heart but a sense of excitement too.

The restaurant was small and intimate and not the sort of place where business deals were done. It had a more romantic atmosphere, where couples looked into each other’s eyes and drank champagne and wished for the moon. Lucinda felt uncomfortable, her heart beating far louder than it should.

‘Have you been here before?’ Zane asked.

Lucinda shook her head.

‘Then you should have,’ he admonished. ‘The food is superb and the head chef incidentally is a very good friend of mine.’

They sipped their drinks as they studied the menu and, while they were waiting to be seated, Zane made no attempt to talk business. Instead he asked her questions about herself, almost as though they were on a date. Which made her feel even more uncomfortable.

‘I don’t see that it has anything to do with the job,’ she protested when he wanted to know whether she had any brothers or sisters.

‘I’m curious about you, that’s all,’ he answered with a disarming smile, a smile that probably made many women go weak at the knees. And she was in grave danger of following suit!

‘All you need to know are my qualifications,’ she told him, her voice a little more cool than she had intended, ‘and you’ve already seen those. When are we going to get down to business?’

Zane smiled, his teeth amazingly white in his subtly tanned face. ‘There’s not really much to discuss, is there, not until we arrive on site, so to speak? I’ve already decided I want you to do the job; this is merely an opportunity to get to know you.’

Lucinda swallowed hard. ‘A complete waste of time.’

Zane frowned. ‘I don’t understand?’

‘Is this the way you usually conduct your business affairs?’ she questioned coolly. Perhaps it was. Especially with members of the opposite sex! And how did he expect the evening to end? Lucinda realised she was being fanciful. There was nothing in his attitude at this moment to suggest that he wanted anything more from her. It was all in her mind. But then didn’t she have reason to be fearful?

Simon, her ex-fiancé, whom she’d met at university, had left her wary of men. He had wooed and won her, they’d had a long and happy engagement, they’d even been planning their wedding, and then he’d dumped her without any real explanation except to say that their relationship wasn’t working. She’d heard afterwards that he’d met someone else—and it hadn’t done much for her ego. From that day on she had sworn she would be careful not to lose her heart so easily to another man. Especially one like Zane Alexander!

‘If you mean do I enjoy taking beautiful young ladies out to dinner, then the answer is yes.’

Lucinda frowned. ‘And your wife, what does she have to say about it?’ Thinking about Simon had made her feel angry and her voice was waspish.

Well-marked brows rose; his surprise very evident. ‘I don’t have a wife.’

‘You mean you’re divorced?’ she asked sharply.

‘I’ve never been married,’ he answered, more puzzlement in his tone. ‘I’ve never met anyone I’ve wanted to settle down with.’

‘So where does Tim fit into the equation?’ she asked, feeling hopelessly lost now.

‘Ah!’ Enlightenment dawned on Zane’s handsome face. ‘You think Tim is my son?’

‘Well, isn’t he?’ she questioned crossly.

‘Actually, no, he’s my brother’s child. I was merely looking after him.’

Lucinda leaned back in her seat and stared. ‘You were looking after him?’ She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It was an even worse scenario than she had thought. ‘That is disgraceful—paying someone to look after a child who’d been put into your care.’ Her eyes were a vivid angry green and she sat forward on the edge of her seat, wanting to take a swipe at him. ‘How could you do such a thing?’

‘Perhaps I should enlighten you,’ Zane said tersely. A waiter showing them to their table had interrupted their conversation, but once their first course had been placed in front of them he could hold his tongue no longer. Who the hell did Lucinda Oliver think she was? How dared she condemn him?

‘Nothing you can say will excuse the fact that you let your nephew down,’ Lucinda snapped. ‘How could you offload Tim on to a stranger?’

‘Just listen,’ he rasped, annoyed now by her determination to cast him as the bad guy. ‘To start with, my brother and his wife died in a road accident when Tim was eighteen months old.’

Lucinda’s lovely eyes widened. ‘That’s awful; I didn’t know.’

‘Of course you didn’t,’ he snarled. ‘His maternal grandmother took him in. When one day she was rushed into hospital there was no one to look after him except me. Unfortunately I had a series of extremely important business meetings—hence employing you.’ Damn, why was he explaining this to her? She didn’t deserve an explanation. Except that she was beginning to get under his skin like no other woman ever had!

‘Not that I expect you to understand,’ he declared shortly. ‘I think maybe this evening was a mistake. Let’s go.’ And he pushed back his chair.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Lucinda quietly.

‘And that’s supposed to make it better, is it?’ he growled. Two miserable little words of apology after she’d made aspersions on his character. It wasn’t good enough. He’d had his fill of this woman and her patronising behaviour.

‘I love kids, that’s all,’ she added, as if reading his thoughts. ‘I don’t think they should be given a hard time. But I can see now that you did the best you could, and I’m sorry I thought ill of you. Have I blotted my copybook as far as the job’s concerned?’

Her eyes were wide and apologetic—and incredibly beautiful. Zane felt himself weakening and hated himself for it. ‘I really haven’t time to start looking for someone all over again.’

‘So you still want me?’ she asked, her voice husky now.

Want her? Of course he wanted her! Far too badly! She was exceptionally fine-looking—too gorgeous to ignore. He loved the little black dress with its rhinestone straps and a décolletage that stopped just short of revealing the delightful fullness of her breasts. Her skin was velvety smooth and her perfume sweet and tantalising. She looked stylish, yet there was an innocent freshness about her as well.

He drew in a long breath and let it go slowly before pulling his chair back up to the table. ‘Let’s talk about it.’

By the end of the evening Lucinda began to look forward to working in St Lucia. Zane was going to fly her out in a few days, giving them both time to sort their diaries. It would be the most exciting job of her career.

As they sipped their coffee, Lucinda telling Zane that she already had some ideas, the head chef came out to say hello.

‘Zane, it is good to see you again.’ The two men shook hands. He was French and short and rotund, and he looked curiously at Lucinda.

‘This is Lucinda Oliver,’ introduced Zane, ‘an interior designer who’s going to do some work for me.’

‘She is beautiful, is she not, you lucky old dog,’ said the chef. And then, in his native language, ‘Is she your girlfriend as well, or is that what you would like her to be?’

Zane answered in French also. ‘She is not my girlfriend.’

‘But you are working on her? And who can blame you? She is—extraordinarily attractive. If I were not married I would pursue her myself.’

‘You would not stand a chance, my friend,’ said Zane with a dazzling smile.

Of all the conceited men, Zane Alexander took the biscuit! Lucinda flashed her green eyes and, speaking in perfect French, said, ‘Excuse me, gentlemen, but I do not like being talked about like this.’

The chef’s mouth fell open and, in English, he said, ‘Mademoiselle, I am so sorry. Do accept my apologies. But you are indeed beautiful.’

Lucinda smiled and waited for Zane’s apology also—but it didn’t materialise. And when his friend had gone back to the kitchen she turned on him. ‘Do you normally talk like that about someone who’s going to do a job for you?’

‘Only when they’re particularly lovely,’ he acknowledged with a tiny tug at the corners of his mouth. He looked not in the least concerned that he had been found out. Instead he said, ‘I congratulate you on your fluent French.’

Lucinda huffed but said nothing more, finishing her coffee instead and then pronouncing herself ready to leave. Of one thing she was very sure—she was not going to be Zane’s girlfriend, no matter how hard he tried. Or how much she was attracted to him!

After her experience with her ex-fiancé, she had no intention of taking any man at face value; trust would have to be earned over a long period. Far longer than the few weeks this project would take. In any case, she felt sure that Zane Alexander had no real interest in her long-term. It would simply amuse him to try and seduce her while on the island.

She imagined him to be somewhere in his late thirties and if he wasn’t married there had to be a good reason for it. In all probability it was because he enjoyed playing the field. Not that she had any proof; it was all pure conjecture on her part, but why else would he still be a bachelor?

When Lucinda told her mother about her plans she was thrilled for her. ‘What a wonderful opportunity,’ she said. ‘I almost wish I was coming with you.’ Not that Ruth was ever short of exotic holidays. If David was too busy to go with her she went with one of her many friends. When Lucinda told her mother about her plans she was thrilled for her. ‘What a wonderful opportunity,’ she said. ‘I almost wish I was coming with you.’ Not that Ruth was ever short of exotic holidays. If David was too busy to go with her she went with one of her many friends.

‘It will be pure work,’ reminded Lucinda. ‘There won’t be much pleasure in it.’

‘Nonsense!’ chided Ruth. ‘All work and no play? I don’t believe it for a second. What’s this Zane Alexander like? Is he married? Perhaps you need to work your charm on him. It’s time you found yourself another boyfriend. He sounds interesting.’

Because he had money, thought Lucinda bitterly. It was all her mother ever thought of.

‘What’s this about Zane Alexander?’ Lucinda’s stepfather walked into the room and looked enquiringly at the two women. He was a tall striking man, not particularly good-looking, but there was something about him that most women found attractive. Not so Lucinda. She had never felt happy about her mother marrying him and in turn David did not show much love for his stepdaughter.

‘Lucinda’s going with him to St Lucia,’ answered Ruth excitedly.

David Goldberg frowned harshly and was about to say something when Lucinda interrupted.

‘It’s purely business. I’m doing a job for him.’

Goldberg snorted in a derogatory manner. ‘He’s out of your league.’

Lucinda lifted her chin. ‘We’ll see about that.’ Ever since she had started her business, her stepfather had taken great pleasure in putting her down, and it grieved him to think that she was succeeding under her own steam. He would have liked it better had she gone crawling to him for money. But never in her life would she give him that satisfaction. Where money was concerned she was as different from her mother as chalk from cheese.

‘Are you sure that doing a job is all he wants from you?’ asked David. ‘Zane Alexander is a playboy. Surely you must know that?’

‘Actually I’d never heard of him until he approached me,’ confessed Lucinda, not wishing to admit that she had formed the same opinion. Or that she had met him previously.

‘Then, unless you want to spend the entire time in his bed, I’d get out of it fast,’ he advised.

Lucinda shook her head. ‘I can’t do that. This will be my most valuable job yet. I can handle him.’

‘Of course you can, darling,’ said her mother. ‘In any case, you’re only young once. Enjoy yourself…’

David’s dark brows rose. ‘You mark my words; it will be all play and no reward. He’s got you where he wants you, girl.’

Lucinda refused to listen, though there were times in the days that followed when she couldn’t help wondering whether David was right. Zane’s words to his chef had suggested that he might be after something more than a business relationship.