The Platinum Collection. Maisey YatesЧитать онлайн книгу.
kissed him right back, no hesitation, no inhibitions—a full-blooded response that made it extremely difficult to rein in the desire she’d fired up. It was the wrong time to race her off to bed. Mickey and Lucy were waiting for them in the restaurant and he wouldn’t put it past Lucy to come looking for them if they didn’t appear within a reasonable time.
Besides, the promise was certainly there that last night was not going to be the one-night stand Elizabeth had dictated.
He could wait.
He was satisfied that he’d won.
Elizabeth Flippence was now his woman.
ELIZABETH woke up on Sunday morning and was instantly aware of the man lying in the bed he hadn’t shared with her before last night—the sound of his breathing, the warmth emanating from his naked body, the memories of intense pleasure in their lovemaking. Harry Finn...
She rolled onto her back to look at him, a smile twitching at her lips. He was still asleep. Her gaze wandered over every part of him that was not covered by the bed sheet—the strongly muscled shoulders and arms, the ruggedly masculine face with its slightly crooked nose, the black curls flopping over his forehead, the five o’clock shadow on his jaw. Her man, she thought, at least for the time being.
It felt slightly weird but definitely liberating to have thrown out her rule book on how life should be led, diving straight into the deep end with Harry and not caring if it was a big mistake. Lucy’s comment yesterday—you never know when something might strike us dead so we do what we want to do—had made it seem stupid to deny herself what Harry could give her out of fear that she’d made a rash choice and this lovely time with him probably wouldn’t last.
So what if it didn’t!
She was thirty years old. Why not experience all the pleasure she could with this man? When—if—it ended, at least she would have had the most marvellous sex any woman could have.
She wondered if Lucy was feeling the same about Michael. Was he as good a lover as his brother? Did being in love make it better? It was far too soon to say she was in love with Harry but he was much—nicer—than she had ever thought he could be, not like a superficial playboy at all. He really did care about her feelings.
His eyes suddenly flicked open, instantly catching her looking at him. ‘Hi!’ he said, his mouth curving into a happy smile.
She smiled back. ‘Hi to you, too!’
‘How long have you been awake?’
She reached out and ran a finger down his nose. ‘Long enough to wonder how this got broken.’
He laughed and rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow, answering her good-humouredly. ‘Rugby tackle. It made a bloody mess of my nose but I stopped the other guy from scoring a try and we won the game.’
‘Sport,’ she said, mentally correcting her former prejudice that had decided the injury had come out of a misspent youth. ‘Jack Pickard told me you’d been good at all sports in your teens. He reckoned you could have been a champion on any playing field.’
He cocked an eyebrow at her. ‘You were asking him about me?’
‘No. I was being told about you. But I am asking now. Tell me about those years, Harry. What were your proudest moments in sport?’
* * *
He was happy to talk about them, basking in her interest. For two years she had rejected knowing more about him, always projecting the attitude that he wasn’t worth knowing. That glacier of disinterest had definitely thawed over the past two days.
‘Did you ever dream of competing in the Olympic Games? Or representing Australia in rugby or cricket?’ she asked.
He shook his head. ‘I simply enjoyed sport. I never aimed to make a career out of it. Mickey and I wanted to join Dad in the business. He used to talk to us about what he was doing, what he was planning. It was creative, challenging, exciting....’ He grinned. ‘And you made your own rules, no toeing a line drawn for you by sport officialdom.’
‘You were lucky to have a father like that, Harry.’
Not like hers.
He saw it in her eyes, heard it in the tinge of sad envy in her voice. He remembered what she had told him about her own father and realised how cautious she would be about her relationships with men, judging them on character before allowing them into her life. Playboy—womaniser—that would be a firm no-no regardless of physical attraction. No doubt she would instantly back off from anyone showing a bent towards drinking too much alcohol, as well.
A very strong-minded woman.
Her sister’s anchor.
She’d been a challenge to him and he hadn’t looked any further than winning her over, having her like this, but he found himself wanting to prove she was safe with him. He was not one of the bad guys.
‘I’m going to be the same kind of father to my children,’ he said firmly.
It raised her eyebrows. ‘You see a future with a family in it?’
‘Yes, I do. Don’t you?’
She looked uncertain. ‘I don’t know anymore. I feel a bit adrift at the moment, Harry.’
She had probably dreamed of it with Mickey and that dream was gone. He understood her sense of being adrift. He didn’t know how deep it went until much later in the day.
* * *
Lunch with Lucy and Michael again before they headed back to the mainland. Elizabeth felt no stress about joining them. She wanted to observe how well they were responding to each other, watch for any pricks in their bubble of happiness. It troubled her that Lucy saw her dyslexia as a possible breaking point. She wished she could have given her sister an assurance that it wouldn’t be.
It was a problem, no denying it. She suspected it played a big part in Lucy’s flightiness, why relationships and jobs never lasted long. It wasn’t a happy position—being thought defective. If Michael ever did think it and rejected her sister on that basis, Elizabeth knew she would hate him for it.
As soon as they were all seated in the restaurant and handed menus with the limited list of four starters, four mains and four sweets, Elizabeth mused over all of them out loud so Lucy could make her choice without having to say she’d have the same as someone else. Often in restaurants a waiter listed Specials which made a selection easy, but that wasn’t the case here.
Lucy grinned at her, eyes sparkling gratitude, and it was obvious that nothing had changed between her and Michael. They still looked besotted with each other, and the meal progressed in a very congenial atmosphere.
Until they were sitting over coffee at the end of it.
‘Any prospects for the position of manager here, Harry?’ Michael asked.
He shrugged. ‘A few résumés have come in. I haven’t called for any interviews yet. Elizabeth may want to stay on now that she’s on top of the job.’
‘Elizabeth is mine!’ Michael shot at him with a vexed look.
‘No!’ tripped straight out of her mouth.
The vexed look was instantly transferred to her. ‘Don’t tell me Harry has seduced you into staying here.’
‘No, I won’t be staying here beyond the month he needs to find someone suitable.’
As beautiful as the island was, it was a getaway, too isolated from a normal social life for her to stay on indefinitely, too far away from Lucy, too. Besides, if the affair with Harry ran cold, she’d feel trapped here.
‘So you come back to me,’ Michael insisted.
She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry,