The Platinum Collection: An Australian Conquest. Emma Darcy

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СКАЧАТЬ freedom from having to see or talk to either of them; a job that demanded her complete attention, keeping miserable thoughts at bay. These critical benefits made the irritation of having to deal with Harry relatively insignificant. Her heart was not engaged with him. Her head could sort out his effect on her, one way or another.

      Michael heaved an exasperated sigh, realising he’d been pushed into a corner by his brother. ‘It’s true. You would be helping us out if you’d agree to step in and do what needs to be done at the resort,’ he conceded, giving Elizabeth an earnest look. ‘I have every confidence in your ability to handle the situation. Every confidence in your integrity, too. I hate losing you for a month...’

      You’ve just lost me forever, Elizabeth thought.

      ‘...but I guess someone from the clerical staff can fill in for a while....’

      ‘Andrew. Andrew Cook,’ she suggested.

      He frowned. ‘Too stodgy. No initiative.’

      ‘Absolutely reliable in doing whatever task he’s set,’ she argued, rather bitchily, liking the fact that Michael found him stodgy. He’d obviously found her stodgy, too, in the female stakes.

      ‘I take it that’s a yes to coming to the island with me,’ Harry slid in, grinning from ear to ear.

      She shot him a quelling look. ‘I’m up for the challenge of fixing the management problems, nothing else, Harry.’

      ‘Brilliant!’

      He purred the word, making her skin prickle. It instantly gave her the unsettling feeling she might have bitten off more than she could chew with Harry Finn. But he wouldn’t be at her side all the time on the island. Going was still better than staying at home.

      ‘That’s it, then,’ Michael said with a resigned air.

      ‘A whole month! I’ll miss you, Ellie,’ Lucy said wistfully.

      ‘The time will pass quickly enough,’ Elizabeth assured her—particularly with Michael dancing attendance.

      The waiter arrived with the sweets they’d ordered.

      ‘We need to get moving on this,’ Harry muttered as he dug into his chocolate mud cake.

      ‘As soon as possible,’ Michael agreed.

      ‘Today,’ Harry decided, checking his Rolex watch. ‘It’s only three o’clock now. We could be over on the island by four-thirty. Have him helicoptered out by six. We leave here when we’ve finished our sweets, hop on the boat...’

      ‘It is Elizabeth’s birthday, Harry,’ Michael reminded him. ‘She might have other plans for today.’

      ‘No, I’m good to go,’ she said, recklessly seizing the chance to be relieved of staying in Michael’s and Lucy’s company any longer.

      ‘What about clothes and toiletries and stuff?’ Lucy put in. ‘You’re going for a month, Ellie.’

      ‘You can pack for her, Lucy,’ Harry said decisively. ‘Mickey can take you home, wait while you do it, take Elizabeth’s bags and arrange their shipping to the island.’

      ‘No problem,’ Michael said, smiling at Lucy like a wolf invited into her home to gobble her up.

      Lucy happily agreed with the plan, her eyes sizzling with sexual promises as she smiled back at her new lover-to-be.

      Elizabeth shovelled the sorbet down her throat. The faster she got out of here, the better.

      ‘Ready?’ Harry asked the moment she put her spoon down.

      ‘Ready,’ she answered emphatically, grabbing her handbag and rising to her feet, wanting to run but knowing she had to discipline herself to suffer goodbyes.

      Lucy wrapped her in a big hug, mischievously saying, ‘Have a lovely time with Harry, Ellie.’

      ‘I will,’ she replied through gritted teeth. Denials of that idea would not only be a total waste of time, but also prolong this whole wretched togetherness.

      Michael kissed her cheek, wryly murmuring, ‘I’ll miss you.’

      I won’t miss you, Elizabeth thought fiercely, barely managing to force a smile. ‘Thank you for my birthday lunch, Michael.’

      ‘Pleasure,’ he replied, his gaze sliding to Lucy.

      ‘We’re off,’ Harry said, seizing Elizabeth’s hand and pulling her with him.

      His hand was strong and hot, wrapping firmly around her fingers, shooting warmth up her arm, but she didn’t care if heat travelled to her brain and fried it right now. He was acting fast, taking her to the freedom she needed, and she was grateful for that. Once they were outside, he led her straight to the long wharf where rows of million-dollar yachts were docked on either side.

      ‘Where’s your boat?’ she asked.

      ‘Right at the end. No shuffling around. A quick, easy getaway. Full throttle to the island.’

      ‘Good!’

      He slid her one of his devilish grins. ‘I must say I admire your decisiveness.’

      She gave him a baleful look. ‘Save your chatting up for some other woman, Harry. I played your game in front of Michael and Lucy because it suited me to do it, and I accepted your job offer because that suited me, too. As far as I’m concerned, there’s work to be done and I’ll do it. I don’t expect to have a lovely time with you.’

      His eyes held hers with a blast of discomforting intensity. ‘No, not right now,’ he drawled. ‘Having had your expectations comprehensively dashed, I daresay you’ll be a sourpuss for some time to come. But the island is a lovely place and I hope it will work some magic on you.’

      A sourpuss...

      The shock of that description halted her feet. She stared back at the blazing blue eyes, hating the knowledge she saw in them, knowledge of her hopes and the humiliation of seeing Michael respond to her sister as he had never—would never—respond to her. She couldn’t wipe away Harry’s perception of the situation, couldn’t deny the truth, but was that any reason to be sour on him? He’d been her saviour today.

      ‘I’m sorry,’ she blurted out. ‘I haven’t thanked you.’

      His sexy mouth moved into an ironic tilt. ‘No thanks necessary, Elizabeth.’

      His voice was soft, deep, and somehow it made her heart turn over.

      She shook her head. ‘That’s not true, Harry. You were very effective in covering up my...my difficulties with how things went down today. I am grateful to you for rescuing me every time I hit a brick wall.’

      ‘You’ll bounce back, Elizabeth. Look on tomorrow as the first day of a new life—a butterfly breaking free of its confining cocoon and finding a world of sunshine. Come on—’ he started walking down the wharf again, tugging her along with him ‘—we’re on our way there now.’

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