His Prisoner in Paradise. Trish MoreyЧитать онлайн книгу.
to pay for anything. Not that he would have believed her, given he’d already made his mind up on that point.
Apparently nobody went out with his sister unless they were gold-digging fortune-hunters looking for nothing more than a juicy pay-out. And of course he wouldn’t care who was supposed to stump up for the wedding bills. Hadn’t he already made it plain that there was to be no wedding?
Sophie put a hand to her forehead, her fingers trying to stroke away her tension as the car continued down the palm-lined highway towards the city of Cairns and the airport that promised escape. How on earth had Jake ever thought she’d be able to convince someone like Daniel Caruana that this wedding was a good idea? And how was she going to tell him that she’d blown her peace-keeping role big time?
She opened her eyes in time to see the sign signalling the turn off for James Cook Airport. She sighed in relief. At least she’d soon be away from here. Away from Daniel Caruana, the man who could be her brother-in-law.
The man who had almost kissed her…
She jammed her eyes shut, trying to blot away the memories, but she could still feel the brush of his lips, could still smell his intoxicating, masculine scent weaving its way into her senses as his fingers worked their way into her hair and directed her face towards his.
When he’d told her that if he had mauled her she’d have the marks to prove it…Oh my. Sophie dragged in a lungful of air, hot and breathless, the car’s air conditioning was suddenly found wanting. Thank goodness she’d found the sense to turn away before she made more of a fool of herself than she already had.
What was his point? Had he been trying to convince her he was the red-hot lover the tabloids hinted at? Or had he just been toying with her, like some random plaything, before throwing her out?
Either way, the man clearly had no conscience. She was glad she’d have nothing more to do with him. At least not until the wedding—if he even bothered to show up.
Then she smiled. If there had been one glimmer of satisfaction she could take from this morning’s meeting, it had been the moment before she’d left, when she’d finally had the opportunity to tell him she was Jake’s sister. In the scant seconds after her revelation, and before she’d pulled the door closed behind her, she’d seen his look of smug dismissal give way to shock and a kind of numb disbelief.
So maybe she hadn’t managed to convince Mr Hot Shot Caruana to give his blessing to his sister’s upcoming wedding—and maybe she’d blown her role as peace maker—but at least she’d managed to get the last word in. How fortunate it was that he hadn’t allowed her to get a word in edgeways so she could save that little gem until last. That part of the meeting, at least, had been infinitely satisfying.
Sophie looked up, thinking for a moment that the driver had said something to her, only to find him talking into his handsfree phone. She looked around. They were in the departure lane, slowing as they neared the drop-off zone with the maze of vehicles pulling in and out along the kerb before them. She strung her briefcase strap over her shoulder, her hand ready on the door release so that she could quickly alight. Except the driver didn’t pull in to stop like she’d expected but kept on driving.
‘There’s a spot just there,’ she called, pointing to her left, wondering what was wrong with the last two spaces he’d driven past.
‘Sorry, miss,’ the driver said, glancing at her in his rearview mirror. ‘Change of plans.’
‘No, I have a flight to catch.’ She looked over her shoulder as the airport buildings and her escape plans disappeared behind, the first frisson of fear slipping down her spine and taking root in her gut.
She turned back in time to catch the driver’s shrug as he accelerated back along the airport exit-road. ‘Didn’t Mr Caruana tell you? Apparently now you’re going by chopper.’
‘What? No.’ Fear turned to anger as she reached for her PDA and found his number. ‘No, Mr Caruana didn’t tell me that.’
Mr Caruana still wasn’t telling her anything. The young PA told her he was unavailable and couldn’t be reached—perhaps she’d like to leave a message?
No, Sophie decided, breaking the connection. What she had to say to Mr Caruana was best said face to face. No matter what stunt he was pulling now, she’d make sure there’d be ample opportunity for that sometime.
She called her office in Brisbane, something she’d been intending to do once she’d confirmed her flight.
‘Meg,’ she said as soon as her assistant answered. ‘It’s Sophie.’
‘How did the meeting go?’
Sophie pulled a face. ‘Not as well as it could have. I think Monica might be walking down the aisle by herself.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. But at least you tried. What time will you be back?’
Good question, Sophie thought, biting her lip as she watched the passing parade of palm trees lining the wide highway, heading the wrong way, wondering if she should let Meg know what was happening. But what was happening? It wasn’t like she was being kidnapped. Not exactly. She still had her phone, after all. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t call for help if she thought she needed it. But that still didn’t mean she was happy about her plans being turned upside down for no good reason and without explanation. ‘I’m not sure,’ she said, and at least that much was true. ‘It looks like I might be delayed. I’ll let you know as soon as I can.’
‘Okay. I’ll hold the fort until you get back. Oh, and don’t forget, you have that meeting at the Tropical Palms first thing tomorrow to finalise the arrangements.’
‘Don’t worry, Meg.’ Whatever surprises Daniel Caruana had planned, she’d be back in Brisbane long before then. ‘There’s no way I’d miss that. See you soon.’
She snapped her phone shut and looked around. Here the rainforest covered mountains rose sharply from the narrowing coastal plain, and she realised she was almost back at the Palm Cove turn off and the office she’d left barely forty minutes ago. What the hell was he playing at? Surely he didn’t feel so bad about the way he’d behaved during their meeting that he was going to make up for it by having her flown all the way to Brisbane in his private helicopter? She swallowed. As much as she wanted to get back to the office, she wasn’t sure she was too crazy at the idea of spending two hours or so in one of those tiny buzz boxes.
But no, she decided, a man like Daniel Caruana wouldn’t do remorse. It wouldn’t be in his vocabulary. So what was he trying to prove?
Anxiety warred with anger inside her. Her stomach felt like it was already taking flight. The thought of going into battle with the man again set her nerves jangling, and her senses to high alert, but if he wanted a battle that was exactly what he would get.
Because, whoever Daniel Caruana thought he was, however much money he had, he had no right to ride roughshod over other people’s wishes and plans. Not his sister’s. Not her brother’s. And least of all hers. She was just in the mood to explain that to him.
They turned off the highway, the car pulling into a clearing not far from the office block where a sleek red helicopter sat amidst a circle of white markers, its rotors lazily circling. But it was the tall, dark haired figure standing alongside a black coupe that was even sexier looking than the chopper that Sophie focused on. He was holding a phone to his ear, the other hand in his trouser pocket as he leaned against the low sports car, his long legs crossed casually at the ankle, his white open-necked shirt rippling softly in the breeze. He looked relaxed, urbane and totally without a hint of apology, which only made Sophie even more angry.
She was out of her door and on her way across to him before the car had barely stopped. He saw her coming, and even behind his sunglasses she could feel his dark eyes following her every step. But she was damned if she was going to let that slow sizzle under her skin bother her, not when it gave her yet another reason to resent him.
She stopped directly