Kitabı oku: «Secrets In The Boardroom», sayfa 8

Twelve

The vibration of Zane’s cell broke the warm contentment.

He extracted his phone from his jeans and checked the screen. “Sorry. Work call. The downside of a satellite connection.” Pulling on his jeans, he walked out into the first part of the cavern to take the call.

Cold now that Zane was gone, Lilah found her damp clothes and quickly dressed. The squall had passed and watery sunshine filtered into the cave, relieving the oppressive gloom.

Curious about the meeting place of the two lovers who apparently had been forbidden to see each other, she studied the room. When Sophie had disappeared during a bombing raid during the war, it was rumored that Sebastien had taken her with him to Australia. Sebastien had denied the claim. The unresolved questions had been a bone of contention between the two families ever since.

Lilah opened a cupboard in the dresser and found a small wooden box and a letter. The box contained a missing set of bridal jewels that she instantly recognized. She had designed jewelry based on Sebastien’s sketches of this very set. They had belonged to the Atraeus family, and Sebastien had been blamed for stealing them.

Heart speeding up, she extracted a piece of fragile, yellowed paper. She could read a little Medinian, better than she could speak it, enough to know she was looking at a love letter.

Zane strolled in, sliding the phone into his jeans pocket. She showed him the jewels then handed him the letter.

“Sophie Atraeus’s final love letter to Sebastien Ambrosi.” He set the letter down beside the casket of jewels. “Well, that solves the mystery. Sophie boarded one of the ships that sank with all hands. She was lost at sea.”

“And she left the bridal jewels here.”

“Probably for safekeeping. When the islands were evacuated, a lot of families hid their valuables in caves. To Sophie it would have made perfect sense.”

Lilah touched her fingertips to a delicate filigree necklace. “These are more than jewels, they’re history. And a record of love.”

Zane’s dark, assessing gaze rested on her.

Feeling faintly embarrassed, she closed the box and tested her weight on her sore ankle. “I think I can walk now.”

Zane took the box from her, set it down on the table and drew her close. “Not yet. Later.”

By the time they left the cave, the storm had cleared and it was twilight. A slow walk down the hillside, heavily assisted by Zane, and they reached the house on sunset. The fairy-tale quality of the afternoon extended into the evening with another candlelit dinner beneath the stars.

The tension of the previous night seemed a distant memory as the dishes were cleared away. When Zane pulled back her chair and linked his fingers with hers, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to go to bed together.

When Lilah woke the next morning, she was alone. Feeling disappointed, because she had looked forward to waking up with Zane, she quickly showered and dressed in a white halterneck top and muslin skirt. When she walked out onto the deck, still limping slightly, Zane was seated at the table, drinking coffee and answering emails.

Zane got to his feet and held her chair. “Your ankle’s still swollen.”

“Only a little. The stiffness should wear off while I walk.” Feeling let down that he hadn’t kissed her, but reasoning that Zane was probably distracted by whatever work situation he was dealing with, she sat and poured herself a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.

“You won’t need to walk much.” Zane bent down and kissed her on the mouth.

The warm pressure, the sudden intensity of his gaze, broke her tension. The dire suspicion implanted by a number of women’s magazine articles, that now they had made love and she was a “sure thing” Zane was losing interest, receded.

Zane checked his watch as he returned to his seat. “We’re going back to Medinos. I’ve called in a ride.

By ride, Zane had meant the Atraeus family’s private helicopter. Concerned about her ankle and despite her objections, Zane insisted she should get it checked out by a doctor. The helicopter set them down in the grounds of the Castello Atraeus. Zane transferred their luggage to his car and drove her to a private clinic located in downtown Medinos.

They were greeted by a plump and cheerful doctor. A few minutes later they were back out on the street. Lilah, now almost free of the irritating limp, walked as briskly as she could toward the car.

Now that they were back on Medinos, she was aware that as wonderful and earth-shattering as her time with Zane was, it had to be over. She couldn’t afford to abandon her arrangements just because Zane wanted to be with her for a few days.

Zane insisted on helping her into the passenger-side seat then slid behind the wheel with a masculine grace she doggedly ignored. She would have to get used to viewing him as one of her bosses again, although with the sleek width of his shoulders almost brushing hers and the hot scent of his skin it was going to be difficult.

“Okay,” he said flatly. “What’s wrong?”

Lilah ignored the flash of irritation in his eyes and tried to focus on her happy place, which at present was the bland fence that encircled the parking lot. “Nothing. I need some processing time.”

He actually had the gall to pinch the bridge of his nose as if he was under extreme stress. “This would be a feminine thing.”

Her gaze clashed with his and the fact that she had not only made love with Zane a number of times but was actually considering canceling the series of blind dates she had set up for next week, for him, hit her forcibly.

She stared at the masculine planes of his face, the narrowed eyes and tough jaw, the moment of disorientation growing.

He was too wealthy, too attractive and too used to getting exactly what he wanted. The wild fling had been a mistake. She must have been out of her mind thinking that she could ever control any part of a relationship with Zane. “We’ve had the two days, it has to be over.”

His brows jerked together. “We could spend a few more days together. I know you have vacation time coming up, but you don’t fly back to Sydney until the end of next week.”

She felt her brain scramble. “An affair wasn’t on my priority list. I have things to do—”

“Like checking out online marriage prospects.”

There was a ringing silence. “I don’t know how you knew that, but yes.”

“Stay with me until the end of the week.” He started the engine and put the car in gear.

Her chest squeezed tight as he turned on to the spectacular coast road with its curvy white-sand beaches and sea views. After which time she would seldom see Zane, if at all, because he worked mostly in the States.

“Talk to me, Lilah.”

She turned her head, which was a mistake, because Zane’s gaze was neither cool nor distant, but contained a flash of vulnerability that tugged at her heart. For a split second she was filled with the dizzying knowledge that Zane truly wanted to be with her. “I don’t know that it’s a good idea to continue.”

Lilah’s fingers clenched on her handbag. The last thing she had expected was that Zane, with his freewheeling approach to love, would try to keep her with him, even if only for a few days.

She should hold firm and finish it now. Staying with Zane could wreck her plans for the secure marriage she needed. She was already distinctly unmotivated at the thought of meeting the men in her file.

But it was also a fact that since she had undertaken the search for a husband a great many things had changed; she had changed.

She was now financially secure and no longer based in Sydney. The financial pressure of her mother’s mortgage was gone.

She was no longer a virgin.

The difference that made was unexpectedly huge. She now knew that if she was not passionately attached to her prospective husband, she would not be able to go through with the physical side of the relationship.

She was aware that this restriction would drastically reduce her chances of finding someone. She was almost certain that none of the men on her list would fulfill her new requirement, but she was no longer worried. She could marry, or not. It was her choice.

The sense of freedom that came with that thought was huge.

She still wanted a stable marriage, but she no longer felt she had to marry in order to be happy or secure. Now she had a much more important goal: she wanted to be loved.

Zane turned into the drive that led to the Atraeus Resort and pulled in under the elegant portico.

Lilah signed the register then followed Zane to the bank of elevators. “What if I say ‘no’ to more time together?” The instant the question was out she knew it was a fatal mistake.

Elevator doors slid open.

Zane gestured that she precede him. “I’m counting on the fact that, when it comes to us, you don’t have a big track record with ‘no.’”

The abrupt switch to teasing charm, and Zane’s use of the word us threw her even more off balance. “A gentleman wouldn’t say that.”

He hit the button to close the door. “But then, as we both know, I’m no gentleman.”

No. He was mad and bad and dangerous to know. He had turned her life upside down, and he was still doing it.

Almost a whole week with Zane before she committed herself fully to the tricky business of finding a husband. The thought was dizzying, tempting.

She couldn’t say no.

“All right,” she said huskily. “Six more days.”

“And then it’s over.”

She tensed, stung by the neutrality of his tone, the implication that he would be relieved when the affair came to an end. “You make it sound like the resolution to a problem.” One of his troubleshooting projects.

Zane bent his head and brushed her mouth with his. “It is a problem, and it has been for two years.”

Six days.

She no longer wanted to concentrate on the men she had planned to meet and date next week. But neither could she afford to abandon her series of interviews altogether.

Zane was not abandoning his life for her. She still needed to plan for the future. She would need something to hold on to when he had gone.

The doors of the elevator opened. Lilah stepped out into the expensively carpeted corridor of the penthouse level. Zane opened the door to a suite.

Decorated in subtle champagne-and-pink hues with elegantly swagged curtains, the suite was both gorgeous and spacious. A glass coffee table held a display of lush pink roses, tropical fruits, a plate of handmade chocolates and an ice bucket with champagne and two flutes.

There were two bedrooms.

Lilah was aware of Zane talking to a bellhop who had delivered their luggage.

While Zane tipped the bellhop she continued to check out the rooms.

Except for the colors, the suite was a mirror image of the one they had shared in Sydney. The separate bedrooms contained identical four-poster beds swathed in diaphanous champagne silk and gorgeous en suite bathrooms. Everything was carefully arranged so that two people could live separate lives in the same suite.

She sensed his presence behind her a split second before she heard the sound of her case being placed on the stand just inside the door. She caught Zane’s reflection in a large ornate mirror and her heart turned over in her chest.

When she turned, one broad shoulder was braced against the door frame. He had brought just the one suitcase, she noted, hers. She realized he had already placed his case in the other bedroom.

She set her handbag down on the end of the bed. “This is a two-bedroom suite.”

His gaze was neutral. “I prefer to sleep alone.”

Her stomach and her heart plunged.

Desperate for a distraction, Lilah switched her gaze to her cases. “Oh good, you’ve brought my laptop.”

She forced a bright, professional smile and grabbed the lifeline of an internet connection.

“You’re going to work?”

Blinking back a sudden urge to cry, she picked up the computer case. “I have some private correspondence to see to.”

Blindly, she walked past Zane out into the sitting room and headed in the direction of an elegant writing desk. Placing the case on the glass-topped surface, she busied herself setting up the laptop.

Zane’s clinical approach to their sleeping arrangements, his rejection of any depth of intimacy, was a reminder she badly needed. Now more than ever, she needed to carry through with her schedule for the following week.

Zane frowned as he watched Lilah. The blank look in her eyes tugged at him, warring with his habit of carefully preserving his emotional distance. He was almost certain she was crying.

Instead of backing off, he found himself irresistibly drawn as she booted up her computer. “I thought we could go out for lunch.”

“That sounds nice.”

Zane frowned at the brisk note in Lilah’s voice. He glanced at her laptop screen. The separate rooms dilemma suddenly evaporated. “Are these online ‘friends’ all male?”

“As it so happens, yes.”

The emotional calm he had worked so hard to maintain since the riveting hours in the cave was abruptly replaced by the same fierce, unreasoning jealousy he had experienced when he had found out that Lucas was taking Lilah to Constantine’s wedding. “Have you dated any of them?”

She fished spectacles out of her handbag, pushed them onto the bridge of her nose and leaned a little closer to the screen as if what she was reading was of the utmost importance. “Not yet.”

Dragging his gaze from the fascinating sight of the spectacles perched on the delicate bridge of Lilah’s nose, he studied the list of men she was perusing. The lineup of photographs portrayed a selection of Greek gods, some flashing golden tans and overly white teeth, some dressed with GQ perfection. The one exception was a slightly battered, bleach blond surfer type.

Lilah scrolled and he glimpsed the logo of the matchmaking agency. The lightbulb flared a little brighter. “But you intend to?”

“That’s right. Next week when I have my annual vacation.”

His gaze snagged on the four men who had withdrawn. He noted the dates. Just days after the scandal had erupted into the newspapers.

He also noted that the flood of new applications had all come in at a similar time. “How many?”

“Fifteen so far.” She scrolled down to a chat page, which had several comments posted. “Seventeen if two other very good prospects come on board.”

The corporate-speak momentarily distracted him. He had to remind himself that the businesslike approach was entirely consistent with Lilah’s view of marriage. She didn’t just want a man, she wanted a paragon, someone who would tick every one of the boxes on her corporate marriage sheet.

Someone who possessed all of the steady, reliable qualities that he clearly did not. “This is why we only have a week. You’re fitting me in before you go back to Sydney to find a husband.”

Her gaze remained glued to the screen. “If I’m seeing someone from the agency I can’t be involved.”

Involved. He suddenly knew the meaning of stress.

Lilah could feel Zane’s displeasure as he studied the emails pouring into her mailbox.

Abruptly, she found herself spun around in her chair. Irritation snapped in his gaze and she realized she had pushed him too far with the list.

“Is that all this is?”

She dragged her spectacles off. “You said it yourself. Marriage doesn’t come into our equation.”

“I thought we had an agreement.”

“We do, but long-term commitment is the one thing I do want. The reason I haven’t been able to settle on anyone is because you’ve always been in the picture just often enough to blot out any other prospects.”

The expression in his gaze was suddenly remote. “Are you saying I’m responsible for your decision to advertise for a husband?”

“No.” Yes. She stared at the screen and tried to pinpoint what had driven her to such an extreme. It had been after the last charity auction, she realized. Zane had been there with Gemma.

Lilah had spent an entire agonizing evening trying not to be aware of Zane and failing. Afterward, she had decided she needed to deal with the fixation by making plans for the future. It had been a relief to come up with a workable plan.

It was not a good time, she realized, to acknowledge that her approach had been naive and too simplistic. The strength of her plan had relied on the screening process of a matchmaking company and the integrity of the men who had replied, which was a fatal flaw. With her family history, she should have known better. “I’ve tried normal dating. This seemed a more … controllable option.”

Grimly, Zane decided that he shouldn’t be pleased he had effectively blotted out the other men in Lilah’s life. Neither should he be annoyed that Lilah dismissed him as secure relationship material, when that was the stance he had always maintained.

He should be more concerned with distancing himself. Given that they only had six days left to douse the fatal attraction that threatened to ruin both of their lives, it was not a good time to feel fiercely possessive.

Emotionally, he did not get involved; he had learned the hard way that love had conditions. It literally took him years to trust anyone, and he could count those he did trust on one hand.

That ingrained wariness of people made him good at his job. He didn’t take anything for granted. His approach was often perceived as clinical and heartless. Zane didn’t bring emotion into the process; he simply did the job he was paid to do.

But somehow, despite his background and his mind-set, he was involved. “Just what do you think every one of those guys who answered your ad wants?”

“A steady, stable relationship.”

“Do you believe in the tooth fairy?”

“This is not a good time to be sarcastic.”

“Then don’t believe in this. It’s not real.”

He straightened and stabbed a finger at one of the photos of a bronzed, sculpted torso. The handsome, chiseled face rang a bell. He couldn’t be sure, but he had a suspicion it belonged to a male model, probably from some underwear billboard. “They are not real.”

“Which is exactly why I intend to conduct one-on-one interviews next week. If they’re not genuine, I’ll know.”

There was a moment of vibrating silence. “This is the reason you have to be back in Sydney?”

“Yes.”

“Where, exactly, do you intend to conduct these interviews?”

“At restaurants and cafes. They’re not interviews exactly. More a series of … blind dates. After I conduct online interviews to screen candidates.”

Blind dates. Suddenly Zane needed some air.