The Rich Man's Reluctant Mistress. Margaret Mayo
you’re afraid of being tempted to stray into my room?’ he suggested casually.
Lucinda’s eyes flashed and she ignored the hot streak through her veins. ‘You are unbelievable, Zane Alexander. I’ve made it clear how I feel about you.’
‘But are you sure you know how you feel?’ he asked.
Lucinda moved away, not wishing to take part in such a conversation. And then she felt a hand on her arm and a ripple of pleasurable heat where his fingers touched. Intense heat! Burning heat!
She found herself looking into smouldering blue depths, close enough to see the attractive dark line around his irises, the clear whites, the amazing length of his lashes. They were quite magnificent eyes for a man and she was mesmerised by them. She felt them drawing her in, feeding a need inside her that she had not known was there.
After Simon she had felt nothing for any man and had been determined to keep it that way. Why then was this particular man affecting her to such an extent that she wanted to turn tail and run? She gritted her teeth and said the first thing that came into her head. ‘Which bedroom is mine?’
A mere flicker suggested that he knew the fight she’d had, but there was nothing in his voice to confirm it. ‘Let’s go and look, shall we?’
Both of the bedrooms had fabulous views over the bay, each with its own en suite bathroom. ‘The choice is yours,’ said Zane.
The house was kept cool by an ancient air-conditioning system that creaked and groaned and definitely needed replacing. But the warmth on the back of her neck had nothing to do with it not running properly. It was Zane standing far too close for comfort.
She stepped further into the room. ‘I’ll take this one,’ she announced. It was the second one along the hallway. Zane would have no need to walk past it. Small comfort, but better than nothing.
There were four bedrooms altogether, each with beautiful high ceilings and floor to ceiling windows, which allowed them to fill with light. Zane could host a whole harem of girls here, thought Lucinda, and then despised herself for such unworthy thoughts.
‘In that case I’ll get your suitcase brought in,’ said Zane.
He did more than that. A maid appeared as if from nowhere and unpacked their cases and in no time a buffet meal and chilled drinks had been placed on a table outside in the shade.
Lucinda helped herself to aubergine and peppers in a sweet and sour sauce and smoked mahi mahi served with crispy potato and onion. She slowly sipped pineapple juice before finally admitting she could eat no more.
Zane’s appetite was healthy too and there wasn’t much food left by the time they had finished. He leaned back in his chair. ‘I suggest we rest now before taking a dip in the pool.’
Lucinda shook her head, the thought of swimming with Zane, seeing him half naked, filling her with dread. She could imagine a hard body, smooth golden skin, firm stomach, long legs and everything else that went with it. ‘I’m here to work,’ she reminded him firmly. ‘You rest if you want to but I need to wander around again and familiarise myself with each of the rooms in turn before I can even begin to think about design.’
Zane put a hand over hers where it rested on the table. ‘There’s plenty of time for that. Today you can relax. Today I would appreciate your company.’ And he meant it. The touch of his hand was firm, his smoky eyes narrowed and warning.
A heat that had nothing to do with the climate swept through her and Lucinda wanted to pull her hand free. But of course she couldn’t do that; she couldn’t give away the fact that his touch sent shivers of apprehension rushing through her limbs. So she looked him squarely in the eye and said, ‘It’s not what I’m getting paid for.’
‘What are you, a workaholic?’ he asked harshly, letting his hand drop back to his side. ‘Don’t you believe in a little pleasure?’
‘I thought you wanted the job done as quickly as possible,’ asserted Lucinda. Pleasure was the last thing she wanted. Pleasure in her surroundings, yes, in the warmth of the sun, in the glorious blue skies, but not in Zane Alexander’s company. He was too discomfiting by far. ‘And I can’t believe that you’re willing to waste time like this. If anyone’s a workaholic it’s you.’
‘I agree,’ he said with a shrug, ‘but there’s a time and place for everything. I declare today an official holiday. Lucinda Oliver, you are not allowed to work.’
She couldn’t help smiling. This was a side to Zane that she hadn’t seen before. Relaxed, cheerful, teasing. And she couldn’t deny that she liked it. ‘In that case I think I’d like to change into something more relaxing,’ she announced and headed indoors.
She chose a gypsy skirt and a cool camisole top and as she had popped in a bikini at the last minute—just in case—she donned that as well and rejoined Zane on the sun deck.
He had moved to a reclining chair and still wore the black shirt and trousers. Lucinda had half expected him to change too, and she had listened carefully while in her room but heard no movement next door. For the moment he appeared to be a different man but she did not altogether trust him and knew that she still needed to be on her guard.
Zane patted the reclining chair he had placed near to his and reluctantly Lucinda slid on to it. It felt intimate, far too cosy for comfort. She lay back and closed her eyes but he was impossible to ignore. She could hear his breathing, she could smell the faint tang of his cologne, and knew that he was looking at her.
When the silence ran into minutes Lucinda could stand it no longer. She shot open her eyes, ready to lambaste him, or at the very least to jump to her feet and return indoors. To her amazement his lids were closed and when she looked closer she could see by his deepened breathing that he was asleep.
He had undone the buttons on his shirt and as expected his skin was firm and bronzed and she had the irrational urge to touch. Her eyes skimmed over the rest of him, over the hard flatness of his stomach and the long length of his legs. He was an extremely sexy man, even fully clothed, and it was going to be hard denying the fact.
‘Like what you see?’
Lucinda hadn’t noticed Zane open his eyes and swift heat shot through her, though she did her best to appear undisturbed. ‘You have a good physique. Do you work out?’
He nodded. ‘I have a gym in my London home.’
‘And was a swimming pool a requisite here?’
‘Of course.’
‘Do you have other homes?’ There was a lot about Zane that she didn’t know. Not that it was any business of hers, but sitting here in his relaxed company it didn’t feel like an intrusion of privacy.
He nodded. ‘LA, Australia, the south of France.’
Lucinda shook her head. ‘How can you warrant them?’
Zane’s lips tugged wryly up at the corners. ‘What else do I have to spend my money on?’
Your women friends, she felt tempted to say, but wisely kept her own counsel. ‘Why have you never married?’ she asked instead. ‘Or is that a stupid question? I guess you’re too busy making money.’
‘Not the right answer,’ he informed her tersely, his eyes flashing almost silver. ‘I’ve simply never met anyone I want to spend the rest of my life with.’
‘Let me guess,’ she dared to say. ‘Most girls are only ever interested in the state of your bank balance?’
‘Something like that,’ he agreed.
‘Are you resigned to staying a bachelor?’
‘It doesn’t worry me, though it does worry my mother,’ he admitted. ‘My parents live in Australia and my mother is for ever nagging me to get married. She wants more grandchildren.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘Here am I almost telling you my life story and I know nothing