Название: Out of Hours...Her Ruthless Boss
Автор: Кейт Хьюит
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Короткие любовные романы
Серия: Mills & Boon M&B
isbn: 9781472074850
isbn:
Bolo di Kashupete, a sweet cashew cake, followed the fish, and Lizzie forced herself to take a few mouthfuls. She had drunk half a glass of the rich dessert wine and found it had clouded her head and made her dizzy.
A mistake, she realised, as another wave of jet lag crashed over her. She couldn’t afford too many more.
‘Our gardens are lovely in the moonlight,’ Jan said after they’d had their coffee. ‘Perhaps the ladies would like to take a stroll? There is a bit of business we must discuss,’ he addressed the men, and Lizzie knew they’d been kindly dismissed.
Wendy pleaded fatigue and excused herself to bed, leaving Lizzie to stroll the landscaped walks with Lara and Hilda.
The sea was only a stone’s throw away, yet it felt as if they were in a separate world amidst the gravel paths twisting through tropical plants and flowers, the sweet scent of orchids and hibiscus heavy on the balmy air.
The night was alive with the sounds of the island, the raucous call of a macaw, the scamper of geckos and the frantic fluttering of dragonflies.
‘You must love it here,’ Lizzie said, and Hilda smiled.
‘It’s home. It always has been.’
‘Do you think the resort will change it very much?’ Lizzie couldn’t help but ask.
‘I hope not. To tell the truth, we have considered this resort because we cannot sustain the island’s economy on our own without tourists. Ever since the sugar plantation failed, we’ve needed a new source of income.’ Hilda sighed. ‘It is our hope that a small, environmentally friendly resort will both help the islanders and allow others to enjoy what we’ve been blessed with…without changing things too much.’
And provide them with some needed income, Lizzie thought. You did what you had to do to get by, she knew. To make it through, to survive.
Wasn’t that what she was doing now? Trying desperately to survive, to come out of this weekend unscathed, unsullied?
If only she could.
‘Tell me about your wedding, Elizabeth,’ Hilda said brightly. ‘Cormac mentioned how quickly you were married—so romantic! Was it a big wedding?’
‘No, very small,’ Lizzie said quietly, conscious of Lara’s silent, speculative glance. ‘Just a few friends and family.’
‘Very nice,’ Hilda agreed. ‘And you are hoping for children?’
Lizzie remembered what Cormac had said about starting a family. It was impossible to imagine. ‘Oh, yes,’ she lied. ‘In time, of course.’
‘Of course, of course.’ Hilda’s eyes were bright even in the moonlit darkness. ‘All in good time.’
‘What about you, Lara?’ Lizzie asked. She was desperate to change the subject. ‘How long have you and Geoffrey been married?’
‘Six months,’ Lara said in a bored voice. ‘But it seems like for ever.’ She laughed, a rather nasty sound, and Hilda looked uncomfortable.
What a strange group they were, Lizzie thought. Hilda had been happily married for forty years, Lara unhappily married, it seemed, for just a few months, and she not married at all.
‘What about your sons, Hilda?’ she asked. ‘They’re all married?’
‘No, sadly.’ Hilda frowned for a moment. ‘They’re all living abroad, pursuing careers. It’s one of the reasons…’ She paused, shrugged. ‘Perhaps one day. It happened for Cormac, it can happen for them.’
Lizzie nodded, not trusting herself to speak. The guilt was overwhelming and she fought to ignore it. There was no point in allowing herself to be swamped in misery, despair.
The rambling path they’d been walking on ended in a little square, a fountain burbling in the middle. The moon cast a sliver of silver on the scene, illuminating the still figure of a man on a bench.
With an indrawn breath Lizzie realised it was Cormac. Alone.
‘What a lovely spot for a couple to sit,’ Hilda murmured. ‘Lara, let me show you our wild orchids…’The older woman led Lara away, leaving Lizzie alone with Cormac.
‘That wasn’t very subtle,’ she said with a little laugh, and Cormac looked up, his eyes glinting in the darkness.
‘We’re newly-weds. We need some time alone.’ He spoke cynically, a darkness in his voice and, Lizzie guessed, in his soul—a darkness beneath that light, charming exterior, that easy confidence. A darkness she couldn’t understand or penetrate.
She glanced around uneasily, conscious that Lara and perhaps even Geoffrey could be lurking in the shadows, listening. She moved closer to Cormac, sat next to him on the bench.
‘Cormac,’ she said in a low voice, ‘Geoffrey suspects. He told me as much at dinner.’
‘Is that why you couldn’t eat a bite? You were as pale as a ghost.’
‘I don’t want to be discovered,’ Lizzie hissed. ‘You, of all people, know what’s at stake.’
‘Yes, I do,’ Cormac replied calmly. ‘Nothing is going to ruin this deal, Chandler. I’ll make sure of that.’
‘How?’
‘I can handle Stears.’ Cormac’s tone was so coldly dismissive that Lizzie felt like shivering, despite the sultry night air.
They were silent, the gentle lapping of waves a shushing sound in the distance, the chirrup of insects loud in the stillness of the evening.
‘You could have told me about Lara,’ Lizzie whispered after a moment. When Cormac didn’t bother answering, she felt compelled to ask, ‘You had an affair with her, didn’t you?’
He shrugged. ‘So?’
‘You could have warned me!’
‘It wasn’t relevant.’
‘Wasn’t relevant?’ Lizzie’s voice rose and, when Cormac raised one cynical eyebrow, she strove to lower it. ‘Cormac, she’s slept with you. She…she knows you in a way I…’
Too late, Lizzie realised this was not a good conversation to have—not now, not with Cormac, not when he leaned towards her and said softly, ‘In a way you want to, Chandler?’
‘In a way I don’t,’ she snapped. ‘All I’m saying is a woman who’s been with a certain man can tell when another woman…hasn’t.’
‘We could remedy the situation, you know.’
Lizzie stiffened. He wasn’t actually…suggesting…they…She swallowed. ‘Very funny.’
‘I didn’t realise I was being amusing.’
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