His After-Hours Mistress: The Rich Man's Reluctant Mistress. Trish Wylie

His After-Hours Mistress: The Rich Man's Reluctant Mistress - Trish Wylie


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a shiver of apprehension. The confined space worried her. She knew what Zane could do to her senses—without even touching her. And here, now, he was so close that she could almost feel the electricity crackling between them.

      She tried to concentrate on the view instead. It was totally magical being whisked silently upwards with the whole panorama opening out in front of them. The yachts grew smaller, the ocean wider, the sky immense. And inside their little space the walls were padded with ocean coloured leather. It was out of this world.

      Except that it was a tiny world holding just her and Zane. She could feel the heat of his body, inhale the fresh scent of him, and her fingers curled into fists at her sides.

      ‘Is something wrong?’

      She hadn’t realised that Zane had observed her tension.

      ‘Are you scared of heights?’ The shore was a long way below them now.

      Lucinda grabbed the excuse. ‘Yes,’ she lied faintly. But it was entirely the wrong thing to have said. The next second Zane’s arms were wrapped protectively around her, her head held firmly against his chest, her eyes shaded from the view outside.

      ‘A few more moments,’ he told her.

      More like a lifetime, she thought, fighting to control the sensations that were whizzing through her veins. And when he, oh so gently, stroked damp strands of hair from her face such was her surge of feelings that she wanted to press herself even closer to him.

      Fortunately, before she had time to give herself away, the lift came to a halt and the doors opened. Zane immediately released her and Lucinda stepped out. They were at the side of the pump house, near the pool. It was no wonder that she hadn’t seen the lift before.

      ‘I’ll go and get showered,’ she said at once.

      Zane nodded. ‘We’ll meet at breakfast and afterwards we’ll make that trip into Castries.’

      Lucinda did not want him to accompany her, but she knew without a shadow of doubt that he wouldn’t take no for an answer so she smiled bravely.

      Their en suite bathrooms were back to back and when Lucinda finished her shower she could hear Zane’s water still running and above it she could hear him humming. It depressed her. He was clearly happy with the situation even though she wasn’t. But if it was in his mind to start an affair then he would need to think again. There was no way she was going to take part in anything like that. No way!

      This job was unlike any other she had worked on. She had thought, initially, that it would be a good experience. And it would be, if it weren’t for Zane. Had she known they would be spending so much time together, she would most certainly not have taken the job. How did he expect her to do what he was paying her for if he insisted on commandeering her attention? He had told her that he had business interests here in St Lucia, so why wasn’t he out there working?

      Lucinda took her time dressing and Zane was already sitting at the breakfast table when she walked out to the sun deck. The air was warmer now but the mountain breeze ruffled her hair and was very welcome, although not all of the heat in her body was due to the weather.

      On the table was a huge dish of fresh fruit, already peeled and sliced; there were bread rolls and butter and cheeses and ham, a selection of juices and cereals. ‘I wasn’t sure whether you’d like a cooked breakfast?’ he asked.

      Lucinda shook her head. She didn’t feel that she could eat a thing.

      ‘Likewise. I always eat continental when I’m in a hot country. At least we have something in common.’

      Not quite sure how to answer that, Lucinda let it go and poured herself a glass of mango juice.

      ‘Tell me more about this guy who let you down,’ said Zane conversationally when she had selected a bread roll and buttered it carefully. So carefully in fact that it took her ages and she hadn’t noticed that Zane was watching her. ‘He’s really affected you, hasn’t he?’

      Lucinda frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘Isn’t it obvious?’ he asked. ‘You seem extremely wary of men—unless it’s just me?’

      ‘It’s not you,’ she lied, ‘although it was definitely a mistake letting you kiss me. Rest assured it won’t happen again. This is a business trip, neither of us must forget that.’ She felt sudden heat flood her cheeks as she reminded him of the kiss and hoped he would put it down to the warmth of the day.

      ‘So in future you’re Miss Prim, is that it?’ His smoky blue eyes teased her. ‘Or would it be Miss Untouchable?’

      ‘I happen to take my work seriously,’ she reminded him fiercely. ‘I wouldn’t have got where I am quite so quickly if I didn’t.’

      ‘Tell me about your ex-fiancé. I’m interested in him.’

      Lucinda sighed and leaned back in her chair. ‘There’s not much to tell.’

      ‘Four years was a long relationship. Time enough surely for you to both know your own minds?’

      Lucinda nodded. ‘I was so sure he was the one.’

      ‘Most people get married or at least move in together in far less time than that,’ he observed. ‘Which perhaps suggests that he was never the right person for you. Did you ever have reservations?’

      ‘None at all,’ she answered, feeling the pain of their parting all over again. ‘Simon and I met at university. It wasn’t love at first sight or anything like that. But we gradually began to see more of each other and I suppose we slipped into the relationship. Nevertheless I did love him; I could see a future for us together. But obviously he didn’t. I don’t know who he left me for and I don’t really care.’ But she had cared when it happened and she had tried to find out who the other woman was. Not that it would have done her any good. Simon had gone, deserted her. All the love he had sworn for her had sailed into thin air.

      Zane reached across the table and put his hand over hers. ‘You’re well rid of him. You deserve better.’

      And when she looked into the smoky depths of his eyes Lucinda saw compassion and wondered if he was suggesting himself. He didn’t stand a cat in hell’s chance. She definitely felt attracted to him, but that was pure sex, nothing more. When, or if, she ever did fall in love again he would have to be someone special, someone whom she could trust and love unconditionally, and who felt the same way. Zane Alexander most definitely didn’t fit that bill.

      She pulled her hand away, trying to do it so that he didn’t realise how much he had the power to disturb her. And she broke off a piece of bread and popped it into her mouth.

      ‘Anyway, we’re not here to talk about ourselves,’ she said firmly.

      ‘So what else is there to talk about?’

      Anything but themselves!

      ‘Would you like to tell me what you’re thinking of doing to my bedroom, for instance?’ he asked with a hint of a smile.

      Swift heat flooded her. Bedrooms were as much a taboo subject as Simon and her manless state. She still thought of silver and grey and ice-blue, although maybe the ice part wasn’t right any more. He was a man of passion. Maybe hot red or fiery purple would make more sense.

      Careful not to let him see that the thought of discussing his bedroom disturbed her, she looked at him with cool green eyes. ‘You’ve not yet given me time to come up with any ideas.’

      ‘There’s a reason behind that,’ he announced calmly.

      Lucinda frowned.

      ‘Before you can design for me you need to get to know me. Properly know me, I mean. Isn’t that the way you usually work?’

      ‘I like to get a general idea of what clients like and dislike, a little about their personalities perhaps, but—’

      ‘That’s exactly what I mean,’ Zane


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