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The Platinum Collection. Maisey YatesЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Platinum Collection - Maisey Yates


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laughed. ‘Well, you certainly do. And we should celebrate your birthday, too. How about lunch at The Mariners Bar? We can make time for it if we get through this inventory this morning.’

      Hope soared again. A lunch for two at one of the most expensive restaurants in Cairns, overlooking the marina full of million-dollar yachts...her heart sang with joy. ‘That would be lovely. Thank you, Michael.’

      ‘Book us a table. One o’clock should see us clear.’ He picked up a sheaf of papers, holding it out to her. ‘In the meantime, if you could check this lot...’

      ‘Of course.’

      Business as usual, but there was a rainbow at the end of it today. Elizabeth could barely stop her feet from dancing over to his desk to collect the work that had to be done first.

      ‘Bold and beautiful,’ Michael repeated, grinning at her as he handed over the papers. ‘Your sister must have a lot of pizzazz.’

      It killed the song in her heart. He was supposed to be showing more interest in her, not wondering about Lucy. She shouldn’t have mentioned her sister. But there was no taking it back, so she had to live with it.

      ‘Yes, she has, but she’s terribly ditzy with it. Nothing seems to stay in her head long enough to put any order into her life.’ It was the truth and she wanted Michael to know it. The thought of Lucy being attractive to him in any way was unbearable.

      ‘Not like you,’ he said appreciatively.

      She shrugged. ‘Chalk and cheese. A bit like you and your brother.’

      The words tripped off her tongue before Elizabeth could catch them back. The anxiety about Lucy had caused her control to slip. It wasn’t appropriate for her to make any comment about her boss’s brother. Normally she would keep her mouth firmly shut about him, despite the heartburn Harry Finn invariably gave her with his playboy patter. She hated it when he came into the office. Absolutely hated it.

      Michael leaned back in his chair, his mouth tilted in a musing little smile. ‘Working behind a desk is definitely not Harry’s thing, but I think you might have the wrong impression of him, Elizabeth.’

      ‘I’m sorry.’ She grimaced an apology. ‘I didn’t mean to...to...’

      Now she was lost for words!

      ‘It’s okay.’ Michael waved off her angst. ‘I know he seems very casual about everything but his mind is as sharp as a razor blade and he has his thumb on everything to do with his side of the business.’

      Charter boats for deep-sea fishing, dive-boats for tourists wanting to explore the Great Barrier Reef, overseeing the resort they’d built on one of the islands—it was playboy stuff compared to what Michael did. Elizabeth’s opinion of Harry Finn didn’t shift one iota.

      ‘I’ll try to see him in that light in the future,’ she clipped out.

      Michael laughed. Elizabeth’s toes curled. He was so charismatically handsome when he laughed. ‘I guess he’s been ruffling your feathers with his flirting. Don’t let it get to you. He’s like that with every woman. It’s just a bit of fun.’

      Oh, sure! Great fun! For Harry Finn.

      Elizabeth hated it.

      However, she managed to paste a smile on her face. ‘I’ll keep that in mind,’ she said. ‘Must get to work now. And I’ll book our table at The Mariners Bar.’

      ‘Do that.’ Another grin. ‘We can discuss brothers and sisters over lunch.’

      No way, Elizabeth thought as she walked briskly to her own office, firmly closing the door behind her to ensure that Michael didn’t see Lucy when she dropped in. She didn’t want her sister sparking any interest in his mind. Nor did she want Harry Finn intruding on any part of this special lunch date. This precious time together had to be about moving closer to each other on a really personal plane. All her hopes for a future with Michael Finn were pinned on it.

       CHAPTER TWO

      TEN thirty-seven.

      Elizabeth frowned at the clock on her desk. The arrangement with the coffee shop on the ground floor was for coffee and muffins to be delivered at ten-thirty—black expresso and a chocolate muffin for Michael, cappuccino and a strawberry and white chocolate muffin for her. She skipped breakfast to have this treat and her empty stomach was rumbling for it. It was unusual for the delivery to be late. Michael hated unpunctuality and the shop tenants were well aware of his requirements.

      A knock on her door had her scuttling out of her chair to open it, facilitating entry as fast as possible. ‘You’re late,’ she said chidingly, before realising the tray of coffee and muffins was being carried by Harry Finn.

      Vivid blue eyes twinkled at her. ‘Short delay while they made coffee for me, too,’ he said unapologetically.

      ‘Fine! You can explain that to Michael,’ she bit out, forcing her gritted teeth open to get the words out.

      ‘Oh, I will, dear Elizabeth. Never would I leave a blemish on your sterling record of getting everything right for him,’ he rolled out in the provocative tone that made her want to hit him. She was not given to violence but Harry Finn invariably stirred something explosive in her.

      ‘And may I say you look stunning this morning. Absolutely stunning!’ he rattled on as he stepped into her office, eyeing her up and down, his gaze pausing where the butterfly wings on her blouse framed her breasts, making her nipples stiffen into bullets. She wished they could be fired at him. His white T-shirt with tropical fish emblazoned on it wouldn’t look so sexy on him if there were black holes through it to his all-too-manly chest.

      ‘The hair is spectacular, not to mention—’

      ‘I’d rather you didn’t mention,’ she cut him off, closing the door and waving him towards Michael’s office. ‘Your brother is waiting.’

      He grinned his devil-may-care grin. ‘Won’t kill him to wait a bit longer.’

      She crossed her arms in exasperated impatience with him as he strolled over to set the tray down on her desk, then hitched himself onto the edge of it, ignoring any reason for haste. The white shorts he wore emphasised his long, tanned, muscular legs. One of them he dangled at her, teasing her need for proper behaviour.

      ‘A moth turning into a butterfly doesn’t happen every day,’ he happily remarked. ‘I want to enjoy the glory of it.’

      Elizabeth rolled her eyes. She was not going to stand for this. A moth! She had never been a moth! She had simply chosen to be on the conservative side with her appearance to exemplify a serious career person, not someone who could ever be considered flighty like her sister.

      ‘The coffee will be getting cold,’ she stated in her chilliest voice.

      ‘Love the sea-green skirt,’ he raved on. ‘Matches the colour of the water near the reef. Fits you very neatly, too. Like a second skin. In fact, it’s inspiring a fantasy of you as a mermaid.’ He grinned. Evilly. ‘I bet you’d swish your tail at me.’

      ‘Only in dismissal,’ she shot at him, pushing her feet to walk to the desk and deal with the coffee herself since Harry was not inclined to oblige. It meant she had to go close to him, which she usually avoided because the man was so overwhelmingly male, in-your-face male, that her female hormones seemed to get in a tizzy around him. It was extremely irritating.

      He wasn’t as classically handsome as Michael. He was more raffishly handsome—his longish black curly hair flopping around his face, crow’s-feet at the corners of his eyes from being out in the weather, a slightly crooked nose from having it broken at some point in his probably misspent youth, and a mouth that was all-too-frequently quirked with amusement. At her. As it was now.

      ‘Have you ever wondered why you’re so uptight with me, Elizabeth?’ he tossed out.


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