Out of Hours...Her Ruthless Boss: Ruthless Boss, Hired Wife / Unworldly Secretary, Untamed Greek / Her Ruthless Italian Boss. Кейт Хьюит

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       CHAPTER FIVE

      LIZZIE lay there, tense, thrumming, angry and afraid. Sleep felt very far away.

      Yet she must have drifted off, for what seemed like only minutes later she was blinking sleep out of her eyes as Cormac exited the bathroom. His hair was wet and slicked back from his forehead, his eyes bright in his work-tanned face.

      ‘Did you know you snore?’ he asked with a wicked smile as he pulled on a crisp white button-down shirt.

      ‘I didn’t realise I had fallen asleep…’ Lizzie mumbled, brushing a tangle of hair from her eyes.

      ‘For nearly three hours. It’s time to get ready for dinner.’

      What with the jet lag and flying time, Lizzie felt completely disorientated. She didn’t like the way Cormac gazed down at her, mocking laughter in his eyes, his whole body bursting with health, energy and determination.

      He jerked his head towards a chair, where Lizzie saw he’d laid out some clothes. Her clothes.

      ‘I want you to wear that dress tonight.’

      She saw it was a simple green sundress with a white floral pattern and a halter-neck.

      ‘I am capable of dressing myself, you know,’ she snapped, but he simply ignored her.

      He continued dressing, buttoning his shirt as he spoke. ‘I talked to Jan while you were asleep and there’s been a slight change of plan.’

      ‘Oh?’ Alarm prickled, nerves roiled. Change was not good.

      ‘One of the architects on the short-list had to bow out.’ He glanced at her; his smile had an air of triumph. ‘His child was ill and had to be hospitalised. So you see where those family values get you.’

      Lizzie didn’t bother to reply. She knew any protest she made would be ridiculed. Reviled. Cormac Douglas was not a family man, which made this charade all the more difficult. Painful.

      Ludicrous.

      ‘So how does that affect us?’ she finally asked.

      ‘Jan picked another architect to replace him. An Englishman—Geoffrey Stears.’ He paused, selected his tie and knotted it. ‘I know him.’

      Lizzie remembered what he’d said, how no one would know them. Of course, pulling this charade off would be so much easier with strangers. But if this Geoffrey Stears knew him…knew his reputation…

      He might also realise he wasn’t actually married. He might leak that information to Hassell, to the press.

      ‘But doesn’t that change everything?’ she asked. ‘If this Stears knows you…’

      ‘Getting scared, Chandler?’ he mocked. ‘I knew you’d be easy to intimidate when I chose you, but I have to admit your frightened little virgin act is getting rather annoying. Unless you are actually a virgin?’ He raised his eyebrows, the question in his eyes turning to a feral gleam before he continued. ‘It’s too late to back out, Chandler, so stop having second thoughts. There’s nothing you can do. I’ve made sure of that.’

      Lizzie’s fingers bunched the sheet. ‘How?’

      ‘Or perhaps I should say you’ve made sure of that. You’ve played the game long enough for no one to believe you.’ His teeth flashed in a smile. ‘Your credibility is ruined.’

      ‘I could still…’ Lizzie began, and Cormac chuckled.

      ‘Walk out of this room and tell Jan what you’ve been up to? Tell him how you’ve been tricked?’ He pitched his voice in a contemptuous mimicry of her own. ‘“I’ll tell her all of Cormac’s secrets.”’ He gave a little laugh, a mockery of her own, before he shook his head. ‘Tell Jan you’ve been deceived and he’ll throw you out the front door. You’re the deceiver, sweetheart, not the deceived, and you chose that role. So get used to it.’

      ‘So now you’re blackmailing me,’ she stated flatly.

      He shrugged. ‘Call it what you will. I did what I had to to ensure your agreement. And you wanted it, Chandler. You liked the idea.’

      Lizzie bit back a retort. What could she say except the truth? And she didn’t particularly want to admit to it.

      ‘Back out now,’ Cormac continued, ‘and you’ll still suffer the indignity, the shame, or worse. Think about what that means for you…and your sister.’

      Lizzie swallowed. The press loved Cormac. Loved to loathe him. News of his duplicity would be a carrion feast to them, and no one even remotely involved would be untouched.

      The tabloids would circle her, devour her, then abandon her. Dani was eighteen, impressionable as Cormac had said, maybe even a little scatty. The results, Lizzie knew, could be disastrous. And Cormac must have known…must have guessed, at least.

      ‘Don’t threaten me,’ she warned, knowing he didn’t even have to. She was already so completely under his control.

      There was nothing she could do. And Cormac knew it. Had always known it.

      Had planned it that way.

      ‘Like I said,’ he murmured, ‘enjoy it. Not many secretaries get a chance to live the high life in the Caribbean.’ His eyes lingered on hers, flaring with possibility, with suggestion.

      Lizzie felt an answering flicker in her own core.

      She wanted this. Him. The excitement, the possibility. Even though it frightened her, he frightened her. Even though she didn’t want anything to actually happen. Did she?

      She didn’t know anything any more. She was so, so out of her depth.

      And he knew.

      He had always known.

      She looked away.

      ‘You’d never say anything, anyway,’ Cormac said after a moment, watching her with a little smile. ‘And why should you? Such a fuss…for what? Besides…’ he shrugged into his suit jacket ‘…you don’t like to make a fuss.’

      ‘I feel like making a fuss right now,’ Lizzie retorted. ‘A big one.’

      He raised an eyebrow. ‘Sounds interesting.’

      She flushed. ‘Not everything has to be—’

      ‘Oh, but it does,’ he assured her. His eyes danced. She hated how she amused him. It made her feel so little. So unimportant.

      ‘I may be attracted to you, Cormac,’ she said quietly, her face heating, her heart beating, even though she knew it had to be said. She had to say it. ‘But СКАЧАТЬ