Out of Hours...His Feisty Assistant: The Tycoon's Very Personal Assistant / Caught on Camera with the CEO / Her Not-So-Secret Diary. Heidi Rice

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      ‘Honestly? I don’t have a clue. I decided a while back to sell up in Vegas. But I don’t know why I chose this place.’ He pushed his chair back, got up. ‘It was just some dumb impulse I couldn’t stop.’ He paced over to the rail, leaned against it, his body stiff with tension. ‘When Monty started the negotiations, I got him to check out what Hal knew. I didn’t want Hal connecting me with that kid.’

      ‘I can’t believe Hal would forget you so easily.’

      ‘Hal and Mary never knew my real name.’

      ‘You mean you never told them, all the time you were living with them?’

      ‘No, I never did.’ He paused, as if debating whether to tell her more. Was this where the guilt had come from? ‘They thought my name was Billy Jensen. At first I didn’t tell them my real name because I thought it’d be safer, but then…’ He sighed. ‘I don’t know. It was like I’d become a different person.’

      ‘You were a scared little boy,’ Kate said gently. ‘Believe me, Hal’s not going to hold it against you if he’s the man you described to me.’

      ‘How can you know that?’ His voice broke on the words, and she realised that inside the tough, commanding man there was still a tiny part of that abandoned child—who didn’t think he was worth the trouble to love.

      She crossed to him, laid her hands against his chest, felt the hard pulse of his heart. Her own heart squeezed in response. ‘You have to tell him who you are,’ she whispered. ‘You have to tell him the real reason you’re buying The Grange.’

      ‘What do you mean, the real reason?’

      ‘You want a home,’ she said simply. ‘And this is the only one you’ve ever had.’

      Zack was dumbfounded. It was as if she’d reached into his soul and pulled something out he didn’t even know was there. A secret yearning he’d never once admitted to anyone, not even himself. He turned away from her, stared out to sea, the conflicting feelings of guilt and remorse and longing making his stomach pitch like the surf below.

      Her hand rested on his back, smoothed over his spine. ‘Hal’s the real reason you came back.’

      He bent his head, his fingers clenching on the warm solid wooden railing. The earth had just shifted beneath his feet. It made him feel exposed and needy, the way he’d felt as a kid. The way he’d sworn he’d never feel again.

      He swung round and her hand fell away. ‘You’re wrong. I don’t need a home and I don’t need Hal Westchester.’

      And I don’t need you either, he thought desperately. He couldn’t. She’d made him feel things, think about things he didn’t want to think about. It was way past time he stopped messing about and took what he did want. Her body.

      He pushed back the panic, reached for her. ‘How about I order us some supper?’ He slid his hand down her arm. ‘This sunset’s too pretty to waste on work.’

      The deliberately seductive rumble of Zack’s voice rippled across Kate’s senses. The brush of his fingertips made her skin tingle.

      What she’d said had shaken him, and he was trying to hide it by changing the subject. She didn’t understand why, but that glimpse of vulnerability made her want him now more than ever. The depth of her attraction still frightened her, but she was finally willing to admit that it excited her more.

      ‘Dinner would be lovely,’ she said, hurling caution to the wind. What had it done for her anyway except leave her on a knife-edge of unfulfilled passion? ‘I’m famished.’

      She welcomed the swift kick of lust as she watched him walk into the cottage to order room service. Her imagination ran hot as she tidied away the laptops, stacked their work papers on top.

      Zack had won another hand, but they’d both be reaping the reward.

       CHAPTER THIRTEEN

      ‘I’M STUFFED,’ Kate said, dropping her fork onto her plate.

      ‘You finished already?’ Zack said, glancing at her mound of uneaten pasta. His eyes fixed on her lips. ‘I thought you were starving?’

      Kate didn’t miss the deliberate innuendo.

      It was a miracle she’d been able to eat anything at all with Zack watching her like a hawk all through supper. Knowing what was in store for tonight was playing havoc with her appetite—for food, anyway.

      She picked up her glass of Pinot Noir, took a hasty gulp and searched for an innocuous topic to calm her nerves. Now they were so close, she was getting jumpy.

      ‘Is it true you were a professional poker player before you built The Phoenix?’

      ‘You sound surprised,’ he said, taking a leisurely sip of his own wine.

      ‘I am a bit,’ she admitted. ‘You don’t seem the type to risk everything to luck.’

      ‘If you stay focussed and play the cards right, luck can be tamed.’

      He said it with such confidence, she was honour-bound to contradict him. ‘I don’t believe that. If you’re not dealt the cards it wouldn’t matter how you played them. You’d still lose.’

      ‘How about we have a game of five-card draw and I’ll prove you wrong?’

      ‘I don’t think so.’ Did she look stupid? ‘I haven’t got any money—and I’m not even sure I know the rules, so I’d be at a huge disadvantage.’

      ‘We don’t have to play for money.’ He ran his fingertip down the stem of his wineglass. ‘And I can tell you the rules.’ When she didn’t reply he arched one tantalising eyebrow. ‘Unless you’re chicken?’

      ‘Of course I’m not,’ she said, loudly. She wished he would stop caressing his glass like that. ‘But what else can we play for?’

      A sinfully sexy smile spread across his face. ‘Items of clothing.’

      She blinked. ‘You’re not seriously suggesting we play strip poker?’

      ‘I’ve waited close to a week to get you naked again,’ he said. ‘I’m getting desperate.’

      But he didn’t look desperate, he looked like a tom-cat with a bucket full of cream in his sights.

      Kate’s cheeks pinked and her pulse began to race. But she couldn’t get the picture of Zack naked and at her mercy with that cocksure grin wiped off his face out of her head. Surely, this was too good an opportunity to miss.

      But did she dare?

      She leaned round the table and assessed the situation. He had on chinos, a shirt, a belt and some Magli loafers, no socks. Assuming he also had a pair of boxers that was still only six pieces of clothing. She did a quick mental calculation of her own wardrobe. Including her earrings—counted individually, of СКАЧАТЬ