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

Wendy glanced back at them, smiling, and Lizzie forced herself to smile back and pat Cormac’s thigh in a perfunctory way.

Cormac trapped her hand with his own and kept it there, splayed on his thigh, too high on his leg for her comfort. She averted her head, unable to stomach the indecent intimacy.

Dan drove the Jeep out of the villa’s landscaped grounds, following Jan along a paved track that cut through the dense jungle. Lizzie could hear the chattering of monkeys and macaws even over the sound of the engine.

After a quarter of an hour, they broke through the dense foliage and came to a rocky outcrop high over the water. Lizzie took in an awed breath, for the sight of the Caribbean shimmering with sunlight to the horizon was still stunning to her.

Cormac heard the little indrawn breath and slanted her a knowing smile. ‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ he said softly, and for once Lizzie felt he wasn’t mocking her.

He even released her fingers and she dropped her hand into her own lap, feeling strangely, stupidly bereft.

They parked the Jeeps where the paved track ended in a pile of dirt and Jan led the party across the rocks to a flattened area that had already been set up with a table sheltered from the blazing sun by a tent.

Lizzie could feel Cormac’s tension, his energy and excitement as the men sat down to discuss blueprints, dreams and designs.

Hilda led the women down a path through the rocks to a strip of white sandy beach below, and Lizzie saw that a separate vehicle had brought all the amenities for a relaxed day at the beach.

Spread out among folding chairs and towels, sheltered by beach umbrellas, Lizzie tried to relax and enjoy the sun and sand. She felt as if she were drawn as tight as a bow string, every sense and nerve on alert.

‘They won’t be long,’ Hilda said with a smile. ‘Jan has already seen all the blueprints, you know. This weekend was simply a way of meeting the men behind the designs. That’s what is important to us.’

And who was the man behind the design? Lizzie wondered. What front would he present to Jan? She’d no doubt he had something worked out, a façade to maintain. Had he ever shown who he really was to anyone? Had he ever been that vulnerable?

The idea was laughable.

Lizzie glanced around. Lara had already stretched out on a towel, glistening with suntan oil, in a bikini that made Lizzie’s own skimpy one look modest in comparison.

In contrast, Wendy was sitting on a folding chair, one hand on her bump, looking hot and uncomfortable.

Lizzie smiled at her. ‘Can I fetch you a drink?’

Wendy smiled gratefully. ‘Water would be great.’

Lizzie found a bottle of water in one of the coolers and handed it to Wendy. ‘A bit hot, isn’t it,’ she said sympathetically, and Wendy nodded.

‘Yes. Dan didn’t want me to come, as I’m only two months from my due date, but I insisted. This commission is so important to him. He’s been struggling in a large firm, and this could really be his chance to break out.’ She bit her lip. ‘Of course, I’m sure it’s important to Cormac, too…and to Geoffrey…’

‘I’m sure every one of our husbands could design an amazing resort,’ Lizzie said a bit lamely, for she was conscious of another fresh pang of guilt.

If Cormac hadn’t insisted on his own way—and finding his own wife—men like Dan White, good, steady, honest men, would have a better chance at gaining such a prestigious commission.

If she hadn’t agreed…

She was as much to blame as Cormac. No matter what he’d threatened her with, she could have said something. Done something.

She’d simply wanted an adventure too much.

And now she’d had enough, even as she wanted more. There was a part of her that longed to run back to safety, to the shelter of her former life. And another part—a treacherous, tempting part—wanted this. A life. Cormac.

She smiled again at Wendy and returned to her seat, trying to involve herself in Hilda’s cheerful conversation about the resort and its plans.

The words washed over her, soothing sounds, no more than white noise. Her mind buzzed with questions. Questions about herself, about what she wanted.

Cormac.

What was she thinking? What did she want?

Change your mind?

No.

Finally, the men left the rocky outcrop. Lizzie watched Cormac walk over to her, smiling easily although his eyes looked blank, preoccupied.

‘How was it?’ she asked in a murmur. She glanced at Geoffrey, who was looking sulky, and Dan, who greeted Wendy with more concern than he’d ever shown about winning the commission.

‘Fine.’ Cormac raked a hand through his hair. ‘Jan likes my ideas, but Stears keeps making remarks and I can tell they’re starting to hit home.’

‘He knows, doesn’t he?’ Lizzie said, fear plunging icily in her middle.

‘Of course he knows. He can’t prove anything, though.’ His eyes rested on Lizzie for a moment and she felt their warmth, a radiant heat that matched the sun.

They both burned.

‘We’ll just have to be more convincing,’ he said lazily. He pulled her towards him and she was too surprised to resist as he gave her a quick kiss. She knew it was calculated, a staged gesture, but it didn’t feel like it.

For one blazing moment she was conscious only of his lips on hers, hard and warm. He pulled away and there was no mocking laughter in his eyes, no sardonic knowledge. ‘Why don’t you get your swimming costume on?’ he suggested, and Lizzie opened her mouth to protest.

‘We’ll go snorkelling,’ Cormac continued. ‘The fish are amazing here.’

A treacherous thrill shot through her. She wanted to spend time with Cormac, she realised. She wanted to have fun. ‘I’m not a strong swimmer,’ she began, and he smiled, laced her fingers with his and drew her in for another kiss.

‘I’ll keep you safe.’

‘Cormac…’ Lizzie shook her head. She knew this wasn’t real, it couldn’t be real. He was just acting. Yet, she realised faintly, everyone was chatting or changing. No one was watching them. There was no audience.

There was just them.

Why was he doing it, then?

‘All right,’ she said, and gave him a quick, uncertain smile before she fetched her swimming costume and ducked into one of the tents set up for the purpose of changing.

She emerged a few minutes later, resisting the urge to cover herself as Cormac looked across at her, his eyes sweeping over, then resting on her body, heat and awareness flaring in their depths.

She joined the others, wrapping a towel around her waist as a sarong. She needed some coverage, some armour.

It did little good, however, for she was as aware of Cormac as he was of her. He’d taken off his shirt and wore a pair of navy blue swimming shorts, and even though she’d seen as much of his body before, she couldn’t quite keep her eyes off him, taking in the hard contours of his chest, the tanned forearms resting on tapered hips, the long, powerful legs.

Every inch of him brown, beautiful, perfect.