Out of Hours...Her Ruthless Boss: Ruthless Boss, Hired Wife / Unworldly Secretary, Untamed Greek / Her Ruthless Italian Boss

‘Flirting usually leads to something else,’ Cormac murmured in a low, languorous voice. ‘Something more.’

‘That isn’t a very good idea, though,’ Lizzie protested weakly, ‘considering…’

‘Actually, I think it’s a very good idea.’

Lizzie swallowed, scooted a bit further away on the bench. He was teasing her, toying with her. He had to be. She just didn’t know how to handle it. ‘How did the meeting go tonight?’ she asked in a desperately blatant attempt to change the subject.

Cormac smiled, amused. ‘Dan White is a strong contender,’ he admitted with a shrug. ‘Hassell is so thrilled he’s having a child, and White’s like a big, friendly dog, jumping all over the place, licking and slobbering.’ He shook his head in disgust. ‘Hassell has made this weekend not about the designs, but about who we are.’

Lizzie regarded him quietly. ‘And you don’t want him to see who you really are,’ she said.

Cormac’s expression sharpened, his mouth twisting sardonically before he shrugged. ‘Of course not, sweetheart.’

‘Don’t—’

‘Shh.’ Suddenly his whole face softened into a smile, a sexy smile that had sudden need flooding through Lizzie’s limbs even as her mind spun in confusion.

He reached up, tangled a hand in the silken strands of hair blowing against her cheek and drew her closer to him.

‘Shh,’ he said again, and kissed her.

The feel of his lips—hard, unyielding, and yet so achingly tender—sent every thought spinning from Lizzie’s brain. A part of her knew—had known, anyway—that someone must be watching for Cormac to do this. Yet, even as her brain acknowledged that fact, the rest of her body kicked into gear, flamed into desire.

Cormac’s lips caressed her own, his hand drifting from her cheek to her throat and then to her breast, his fingers expertly, easily teasing her.

Lizzie gasped against his mouth, felt his smile. She’d never been touched like this, and even though she knew it was a performance—a charade—she could not keep herself from reacting.

Wanting. More.

Her arms wound around his neck, fingers lost in the crispness of his hair. She felt herself lean forward to press her breasts against the wonderful hardness of his chest.

Even in the softened haze of feeling she realised that someone must be watching this blatant, brazen display and she stiffened in shame.

She pulled away, jerking herself out of Cormac’s arms, and looked around.

No one was there.

She glanced at Cormac. He was leaning back against the bench, a smile playing about his lips—the lips she’d just kissed. She could still feel the soft, salty taste of him on her tongue. In her mouth.

‘There’s no one,’ she said, and he shrugged.

‘I thought someone was coming.’

Lizzie’s eyes narrowed. ‘Did you really?’

He grinned. ‘No.’

Lizzie shook her head. ‘Don’t play with me, Cormac.’

‘But it’s fun to play.’ He rose from the bench in one lithe, lazy movement, reached for her hand. ‘Come on, Chandler. Time for bed.’

Woodenly she took his hand and didn’t even resist when he kept hold of it, all the way back to the bedroom. Her mind was spinning—spinning from Cormac’s kiss.

And the revelation that would have been obvious to a woman with any experience—any woman but her.

He wanted her. Wanted. Her.

Her.

Why, Lizzie wondered numbly, was that so amazing? So flattering? Cormac had most likely slept with hundreds of women. She was just one more.

No. She would not let herself be notched up. She wouldn’t…couldn’t…

Except it—he—was so hard to resist.

It felt wonderful to be wanted.

Back in the room, Lizzie stood by the door while Cormac began to undress, unself-conscious as always. The shutters had been closed, the bed turned down, the soft light from a lamp casting shadows on the tiled floor.

Lizzie watched him shrug off his shirt, the desire from their kiss still pulsing through her. She leaned against the door, one hand on the knob as if she would flee from the room, from what she was feeling.

‘Going somewhere?’ Cormac asked, one eyebrow raised. He was bare-chested, his hands at his belt buckle.

Lizzie closed her eyes, then snapped them open. ‘No…but we need to talk.’

‘All right. Talk.’

‘I’m not going to sleep with you, Cormac.’ Lizzie blushed, lifted her chin. Cormac simply waited, his hands still at his buckle. ‘I can’t do this. I can’t pretend that far.’

His gaze travelled over her slowly, resting on her still aching breasts. His mouth curved in a knowing smile. ‘I don’t think you were pretending all that much.’

Lizzie’s blush intensified; her whole body felt hot. ‘You’re right, I wasn’t,’ she agreed. ‘Before this weekend, I never gave you a thought that way, but now…’ She shrugged. ‘I’ve come to realise I’m attracted to you. As you well know. And,’ she added defiantly, ‘you are to me.’

‘Yes, I am. As I told you before.’ He walked towards her and Lizzie’s hand tightened on the doorknob.

‘Don’t.’

‘Don’t what?’

‘Don’t come closer.’

He paused, took a little step. ‘What are you scared of, Lizzie? Me? Or yourself?’

‘Both,’ she admitted in a raw whisper, and he spread his hands wide.

‘I won’t hurt you.’

Lizzie choked on a laugh of pure disbelief. ‘Cormac, all you’ll do is hurt me.’