His Most Exquisite Conquest (5 page)

CHAPTER SIX

W
OW
!

For a while it was the only word in Michael’s mind. He had been conscious enough of his heaviness on top of Lucy to roll onto his side, but he took her with him, ensuring their togetherness continued. She hooked her leg around him, as intent as he was on maintaining their intimate connection. Her incredibly sexy breasts were softly heaving against his chest. Her warm breath was wafting over his throat. Her arms embraced him as though she wanted to stay clamped to him forever.

She was...amazing!

So uninhibited about showing her desire for him, voicing it, moving on it... no woman in his memory had ever been so actively inviting, making him feel he was amazing to her. His heart started thumping again as he recalled her peeling off her yellow dress, revealing the lovely curve of her back, the long glorious legs and her cheeky bottom fringed in white lace. Then stepping back to stroke him...

His mind had been so blown by her he might well have forgotten the condoms if she hadn’t brought up the safe sex issue. He was glad that she had. It was best to be careful. They had no history between them. Only today. But there were going to be a lot of tomorrows. He’d get a health clearance as soon as he could, do away with the condoms so there’d be nothing between him and the whole sensual experience of Lucy Flippence.

His PA’s sister...

Amazing!

She was certainly the best possible consolation prize for losing Elizabeth to Harry for a month.

When Michael grew too soft for her to hold him in, she sighed and moved her head to look at him, her big brown eyes shiny with pleasure, a smile of contentment curving her mouth. ‘That was fantastic, Michael,’ she said happily.

‘Fantastic!’ he agreed, grinning in turn.

‘Shall we go and have a shower together?’

‘Nothing I’d like better.’

She laughed, disentangling herself from him and rolling off the bed. ‘I’ll go and turn the taps on. We don’t have a mixer in the shower and you have to be almost a rocket scientist to get the temperature right using both taps. I don’t want you to get scalded and—’ her eyes danced teasingly ‘—I don’t want you to have a cold shower, either.’

She made him laugh. She made him feel happy. He suddenly realised he hadn’t felt this happy for a long time. The sunshine girl... He smiled over the aptness of the name as he followed her to the bathroom.

Showering together was another sensual delight, caressing each other with soap, doing what should have been foreplay, except they’d been in too much of a hurry. He loved her breasts, large enough to fill his hands and firm enough to hold their beautiful shape. The areolae were brown, a very distinctive frame for her enticing nipples, which he’d definitely pay more attention to later this evening...though possibly not much later. He was hardening again under Lucy’s erotic ministrations.

‘Mmm...’ she murmured, looking down at him and cocking her head with a considering air. ‘Maybe we should do what we have to do first, or we might never get it done.’

‘What do we have to do?’ he asked, dropping a kiss on her forehead.

‘Pack a bag for Ellie. And we could open your bottle of wine and eat what I’ve prepared.’ Lucy met his gaze, eyes twinkling with mischief. ‘Not that you look as if you need to build up your strength, Michael, but it might be even better if we wait a bit.’

‘Okay.’ He didn’t mind waiting, knowing what was coming. ‘Elizabeth won’t need much,’ he informed her. ‘She’ll be wearing the island uniform while she’s on duty, the same as Harry had on today—white shorts and T-shirt with the Finn Island emblem. She’ll be supplied with those clothes.’

‘So, it’s toiletries, make-up, underclothes....’ Lucy turned off the taps, stepped out of the shower, grabbed a towel for herself and handed him one as she listed the items to be packed. ‘Pyjamas, dressing-gown, the gorgeous caftan I bought her for swanning around in.’ She grinned at him. ‘It will certainly catch Harry’s eye.’

‘I’m not sure that would be doing your sister a favour.’

The remark earned him a sharp look. ‘You think he wouldn’t be good for her?’

Michael shook his head. ‘I didn’t mean that.’

‘What then? Ellie is very dear to me. I don’t want her hurt.’

He shrugged. ‘I simply have the impression she doesn’t approve of my brother. The way he flirts...’

‘Mmm...probably doesn’t trust him yet. I think she was badly let down by a guy about two years ago. Put her right off men. Harry will have his work cut out winning her over, but she is attracted to him. No question.’ Lucy wrapped her towel around her, tucking it in above her breasts.

‘What about you?’ he asked, wrapping his own towel around his waist.

‘What about me?’

‘How long have you been unattached?’

‘Oh, a couple of weeks,’ she answered, waving an airy hand as she headed out of the bathroom.

‘You weren’t devastated by the break up?’

‘Not at all. I’d been going off him for some time and I finally called it a day.’

She entered a second bedroom. He followed, watching as she opened a built-in wardrobe and lifted down a medium-size travel bag from the top shelf. ‘This should do,’ she said, smiling at him as she turned to lay it on the bed, waving at a chair in front of a computer desk. ‘Take a seat while I pack.’

He sat, noting that Elizabeth’s room was very different from Lucy’s—no vivid colours, less random clutter, more orderly, somehow not as endearing in personality. ‘Why did you go off him?’ he asked, curious about Lucy’s dislikes in a man.

She rolled her eyes. ‘He was getting to be a control freak, wanting everything his way. In my book, relationships should be a two-way street. I am not going to be told what to do, what to wear or what to say, and he actually started answering for me when people asked me questions....’ She threw up her hands.

‘No respect for the person you are,’ Michael deduced, liking her stance for individuality.

‘How come you’re unattached?’ She tossed the question at him, returning to the wardrobe to fetch clothes.

‘I wasn’t available enough for the last woman I was involved with. She thought I should take off from work any time at all, specifically when she wanted me to.’

‘Ah!’ Lucy grinned at him as she brought an armload of garments to the bag. ‘No respect for your position.’

He nodded. ‘Altogether too self-centred.’

She shook her head, wryly remarking, ‘It starts off good. You think it’s going to be great. Then it all goes downhill.’ Her eyes sparkled brightly at him. ‘Let’s make a deal, Michael. I won’t try to change you and you won’t try to change me. If we don’t gel as we are, then we accept that and part with no hard feelings.’

‘Sounds good to me.’

He didn’t want to change one thing about Lucy Flippence. Her directness and spontaneity were a delight. He imagined her last guy had been the type to want to catch a butterfly, put it in a bottle, poison it and pin it to a board so it could never fly away and attract anyone else’s eye. She was well rid of him.

‘I’ll just grab Ellie’s toiletries and make-up from the bathroom and pack them before I add the good stuff. Don’t move. I’ll be right back,’ she instructed.

It was strange being in his PA’s bedroom. It actually felt like an intrusion of her private life, which he’d known nothing about until Lucy had enlightened him. He hoped Harry would be careful with Elizabeth, not treat her feelings lightly if he pursued the attraction that Lucy was so sure of.

Maybe a trip over to the island might be a wise move, to check out what was happening between them. In a month’s time Michael wanted a fully functional Elizabeth back in the office with him, and that might not be how it would end up if his brother messed with her emotions.

Lucy waltzed back in with her plunder from the bathroom.

‘Are you free this coming weekend?’ he asked her.

‘Free as a bird,’ she answered blithely, placing Elizabeth’s essentials in the bag.

Or a butterfly,
Michael thought, smiling over his image of her. ‘We could go over to Finn Island, see how your sister’s doing, stay Saturday night and enjoy the facilities ourselves.’

Her face lit with delight and she clapped her hands in excitement at the prospect. ‘I’d love that, Michael.’

‘I’ll call Harry tomorrow, set it up.’

‘Wonderful! I know about Finn Island, of course—exclusive getaway, open bar, gourmet food—but I’ve never been there. Do you go often yourself?’ she asked as she returned to the wardrobe to select more clothes.

‘No. Harry oversees everything to do with the island.’

‘I didn’t mean for business.’

‘For pleasure?’

‘Yes. I imagine it’s very romantic.’

Michael laughed. ‘With the right companion, yes. It’s not such a paradise with the wrong one.’

‘Well, I hope it will be paradise for us,’ she said, grinning at him while proceeding to load up the bag. ‘This should see Ellie through. She can tell me on the weekend if she needs more.’ Having zipped it shut, Lucy grinned at him again. ‘Now food and wine and fun in the kitchen.’

Michael was happy with that program.

She led him back to the living room, where she whipped away her towel, picked up the yellow dress, put it on—without underclothes—and turned to him as she did up the tie belt, her eyes dancing teasingly. ‘This is safer for me while cooking, but you can keep your towel, Michael.’

He did, enjoying the idea that he was as accessible to her touch as she was to his in the wraparound dress. She quickly provided glasses and he opened the bottle of wine, while she removed a prepared salad and a plate of prawns from the refrigerator.

It was fun in the kitchen. Lucy was playful, provocative and positively entrancing. She had a wonderfully expressive face and he loved watching it as she talked and laughed, loved how her dress swished with the sway of her hips and the bodice gaped with each movement of her breasts. She was so delectably female, absolutely adorable and incredibly sexy.

The meal they sat down to was perfect: prawns cooked in a Thai dressing with a touch of ginger and chilli, accompanied by a very tasty salad. Lucy ate with uninhibited relish. Just watching her enjoy the food was erotic. She emitted a joy in life that Michael realised he’d been missing ever since his parents had died.

There’d been pleasures—many of them, from many sources—but this unadulterated sense of joy bubbling over... His mother had been like that, as though every day the sun shone just for her, and life was always beautiful. The gift of happiness, he thought. Lucy had it, too. Maybe he had found the woman he could spend the rest of his life with.

The fanciful thought surprised him. What had it been—about nine hours since he’d met Lucy? She made an incredible impact, but it was far too early to be entertaining any thoughts about a future with her beyond the month he’d given himself. As she’d said herself, it starts off good then it all goes downhill. Right now it was great, but ‘downhill’ was probably on its way, sooner or later.

After they had cleaned up after their meal they returned to the bedroom, both of them intent on a slower build-up to ultimate intimacy. Michael loved Lucy’s total lack of inhibitions, her innate sensuality, the exquisite delicacy of her tantalising caresses. She inspired him to stroke, kiss and taste her all over, revelling in her responses. It was an act of extreme control to hold off taking her until she begged him to do so, intense need making her voice shrill. His own excitement was at fever pitch and their coming together was even more incredibly satisfying than before.

He was conscious of a wildly primitive elation, almost a sense of triumph in bringing her to such a powerful peak of wanting him. She climaxed almost immediately and he exulted in the hot creaminess of her as he drove towards his own climax—a fiercely ecstatic release that left him floating in a sea of joy.

When he finally kissed Lucy goodbye that night, he carried the joy with him. How this relationship would turn out—whether they’d be compatible as a couple or not—he didn’t know and didn’t care. He was going to take whatever he could of Lucy Flippence until the joy of her ran out.

CHAPTER SEVEN

L
UCY
WAS
ON
cloud nine. Michael had wanted to be with her every night this week. Even on Wednesday evening, when she played netball with her friends, he’d come to the gym to watch her in action, and quite happily suffered being introduced to a group of hot, sweaty women. So far he’d been an absolutely perfect lover, showing no froglike tendencies at all. He was charming, considerate, always ready to laugh with her, have fun, and tomorrow he was taking her to Finn Island, which would surely be paradise.

Her heart was pounding with excitement as she walked along the Esplanade, anticipating their date this evening. Michael had to work late and he’d asked her to meet him at Danini’s, a very chic Italian restaurant, at eight o’clock for dinner. He’d booked a table, which was just as well, because there was a crowd of people out and about—lots of tourists enjoying the warm weather, visiting the night markets and filling up most of the tables in the pavement section of the many restaurants catering to them.

‘Do you want to sit inside or out?’ Michael had asked her before making the booking.

‘Out,’ she’d answered, preferring the evening breeze off the ocean to air-conditioning, and the hustle and bustle of the street to the relative seclusion of an inside dining-room. She enjoyed watching people, and if she had to wait for Michael to arrive, it would pass the time pleasantly.

As it turned out, she didn’t have to wait. Although it was five minutes short of eight o’clock when she arrived at Danini’s, Michael was already seated at a table.

‘You’re early,’ Lucy declared, greeting him with a happy smile.

‘So are you,’ he said, returning her smile as he stood to hold out her chair.

She laughed, instantly feeling giddy in his presence. ‘I didn’t want to miss out on any time together.’

‘Nor did I.’

His eyes sparkled with silvery glints, and Lucy’s heart was skipping with happiness as she sat down. A pina colada was on the table in front of her. ‘Oh, you’ve bought me my favourite cocktail, too. Thank you, Michael.’

‘Your pleasure is my pleasure,’ he said in his deep, warm voice, resuming his seat opposite her.

He was a beautiful, beautiful man. A true prince, Lucy thought, thanking her lucky stars that she had met him. This was an experience she could treasure for the rest of her life.

He handed her a menu, which was always a tricky business for her. ‘Have you decided already on what you want to order?’ she asked.

He nodded. ‘The veal scallopini.’

‘I’ll have the same.’

‘What about sweets?’

She grinned at him as she closed the menu. ‘I’ll watch what’s being served at other tables and see what appeals most.’

He laughed and set his menu aside, content to wait for her decision. A waiter arrived very promptly and took their order, leaving them both to settle back comfortably and enjoy each other’s company.

‘There’s a charity ball at the casino next Saturday night,’ Michael told her. ‘I bought tickets months ago, more to contribute to the charity than with any intent of attending, but we can join a group of my friends if you’d like to come and dance with me.’

‘I’d love to dance with you,’ she said truthfully, though meeting his high society friends was a bit of a worry. Regardless of that problem, however, the invitation to the ball was proof he was anticipating a second week with her, which was marvellous.

‘Then I’ll look forward to it,’ he said, looking pleased.

Lucy firmly told herself the invitation also proved Michael wasn’t worried about how she’d mix with his peers. On the other hand, he was a man, and on the whole, men didn’t look for shortcomings in her. It was the women who could get narky if they thought she didn’t fit in with them.

Her
friends had all raved over Michael. What woman wouldn’t? He had everything!

His
friends would undoubtedly be running a more critical eye over her.

The ball at the casino would be a test of whether their relationship could stand up in his world.

Lucy hoped she would pass it with flying colours.

Though Michael had to, as well. For him it would be a test of how well he tried to integrate her with his group of friends, whether he would stand by her side as a true prince would if she ran into difficulties, protect her if she needed protecting. It would be lovely to feel secure with him.

There had been no security in her mother’s marriage—not emotional or financial or even physical security—and Lucy knew she would never commit herself to any man long-term unless she was confident she would be safe with him in every sense. Not that she was expecting long-term with Michael, just hoping for longer than her relationships with guys usually ran.

Determined to being prepared when meeting his friends, she gave him an inviting smile and said, ‘Tell me about the people we’ll be with at the ball.’

Happy to oblige, he described one married couple who ran a wedding bureau specialising in the Japanese market, since it was much cheaper to have a wedding in Cairns than in Japan, with the plus factor of a tropical location. Another couple owned a coffee plantation up near Mareeba on the tablelands. A third couple was making big business out of macadamia nuts, mangoes and other exotic fruits. The rest were singles, but all of them successfully established in various fields—smart, wealthy achievers.

Lucy couldn’t help thinking none of them would understand her haphazard way of moving from one job to another. She wasn’t
driven
to achieve anything because she had always known her dyslexia would get in the way. Enjoying herself with whatever appealed and was available was the best she could do.

‘I won’t fit in with them, you know,’ she warned Michael. ‘I’m from a different kind of zoo.’

He looked totally unconcerned, grinning at her as he lifted his cocktail glass in a toast.
‘Vive la différence!’

The tension that had been building up in Lucy eased. Michael was the only one who really counted, and he liked her the way she was.

Their meal arrived, along with a bottle of red wine to go with the veal. The meat was melt-in-your-mouth tender, the mushroom sauce was delicious and the wine, a full-bodied cabernet sauvignon, complemented both perfectly. Lucy’s palate was immensely pleasured by it all and she sat back with a contented sigh when she’d finished eating.

As Michael put down his knife and fork, looking equally replete, she felt a strong sense of being watched. Her skin prickling at being the target of some intense focus, she threw a sharp glance around. Passers-by were streaming past the restaurant, none of them paying any attention to her, but the feeling persisted and her gaze was eventually drawn to a table at the adjoining restaurant.

Recognition of the guy from the Irish pub in Port Douglas came as a nasty jolt. He was staring straight at her, and when he caught her eye he lifted a schooner of beer in a half-drunk, mocking manner, a look of leering triumph on his face. He was with a group of men, probably the same ones who had been at the pub.

They’d been fun at first, flirting with her and her girlfriends, inviting them to dance—fun until they’d drunk too much. They were a bunch of good-looking men who were obviously used to getting their own way with women regardless of their behaviour. They’d yelled abuse after Lucy and her friends when they’d walked out on them.

She’d actually felt attracted to the guy staring at her now—Jason...Jason Lester. He had a gym-toned body, wicked blue eyes and a sexy bristle along his jaw, but by the end of the evening the attraction was stone-dead. And he hadn’t liked being rejected by her—not one bit.

Her stomach cramped when he pushed his chair back and stood up, his gaze still trained on her. Alarm crawled down her spine. If he was intent on confrontation... She quickly reached out and grabbed Michael’s hand, needing his full attention as her eyes transmitted an urgent warning.

‘There’s trouble coming our way,’ she said quickly.

‘What?’ He frowned, looking past her to spot what she found disturbing. ‘You mean Jason Lester?’

‘You know him?’

‘Played football against him in my teens.’

She hadn’t imagined any connection between them and didn’t have time to ask Michael whether he’d liked Jason or not, which drove up her tension considerably when the guy arrived at their table.

‘Well, well, here’s the honey bee again,’ he drawled sneeringly, his gaze shifting to Michael, who was rising to his feet, half a head taller than Jason and more broad-shouldered, but apparently not intimidating enough to stop a jeer at him. ‘Pulling in bigger bucks with you, Mickey Finn.’

‘You’re being rude, Jason,’ Michael said tersely, his face set in stony challenge as he added, ‘inexcusably.’

‘Just thought I’d give you a friendly warning, Mickey. What looks like all sweetness has quite a sting in her tail.’

‘I’d prefer to discover that for myself,’ he replied coldly. ‘Now if you don’t mind...’

‘But I do mind. I want the honey bee to spell out why she turned her back on me when she’s slept with half the men in Cairns.’ The blue eyes lasered hers with vicious spite. ‘Well, sweetheart?’

Her face flamed at the slur on her character. That he had made such a nasty crack about her in front of Michael goaded her into a wild reply. ‘Even a town slut can have standards, Jason Lester, and you don’t meet them.’

‘After richer pickings, aren’t you?’ he retorted, and threw a last mocking look at Michael. ‘Just so you know what you’re playing with, old friend.’

He left.

Lucy sat frozen, watching him saunter off. It totally appalled her that she’d used the term ‘town slut’ on top of Jason Lester’s numbering her ex-lovers as half the men in Cairns, making it sound as if she was actually acknowledging herself as a slut, which she wasn’t. Far from it. But Michael could be starting to see her that way—as a gold-digging slut who had drawn him straight into her bedroom on their first night together.

If Jason Lester and Michael had been friends... If Michael believed him, one man to another... She couldn’t think past that, couldn’t bring herself to look at the prince who might at this very moment be turning into a frog.

* * *

Michael slowly unclenched his hands as he watched Jason Lester make a quick retreat back to the safety of a gang of mates seated at a table in the next restaurant. Typical of him to dive in, hit where it hurt, then run for cover. He’d always been a dirty player on the football field, grabbing guys’ crotches and squeezing whenever he could. Harry had got him back in one game, delivering a bit of justice.

Certainly there was no friendship fostered between Lester and the Finn family. He hadn’t come to this table to do any favours. His only purpose had been to poison the happy flow of a relationship he wanted to destroy out of some malicious sense of envy. Michael
knew
this, but he couldn’t stop himself from wondering how much truth there was in the poison.

The honey bee...

It was an apt name for Lucy, flitting along in her free-spirited way and so sweet to be with in every sense.

The burning question was how many men had dipped into her honey? He might have dismissed Lester’s snide crack about half the men in Cairns but for Lucy’s retort that even a town slut had some standards. It had been an angry retort, hitting back, yet his own experience with Lucy—her easy, uninhibited approach to having sex—suddenly didn’t feel so great to him.

This past week he had been obsessed by the pleasure of her, at the cost of his usual complete concentration on work. Even tonight he’d cut short what he should have done in the office, impatient to be with her again. Had she deliberately gone after his balls because of his ‘big bucks’? He’d thought that her joy in sex was part and parcel of her nature, but maybe it was all designed to play him, to take him where she wanted him to go, ensnare him into not looking beyond what she gave him. Was he being fooled by this woman?

He glanced sharply at Lucy as he resumed his seat. Her chin was up at a defiant angle. Her face was taut. No smile. Her whole body looked tense. Her gaze was lowered, seemingly fixed on the table next to theirs, where the waiter was serving sweets. Michael didn’t think she was considering what to order for herself, but he decided to pretend that she was. A bone-deep pride insisted that Lester not see he had disturbed either of them in the slightest.

Michael reached over and touched her hand to draw her attention back to him. Her head turned slowly, reluctantly, and when she lifted her gaze to his he saw her eyes were anguished.

Because what she was had been revealed...or because it deeply distressed her to have him think anything nasty of her? There was no certain way of telling at this moment, and he wasn’t about to sit in judgement with Lester watching.

Michael quickly composed an indulgent smile and nodded to the next table. ‘Do you fancy any of the sweets being served over there?’

‘What?’ she asked in a dazed fashion.

‘You said you wanted to see what sweets other people ordered before you decide,’ he reminded her.

‘Oh!’ There was a second of utter disbelief, almost instantly chased away by immense relief. The frozen look on her face cracked into a smile that showered him with a gush of warmth. ‘I wasn’t really looking at them.’

He squeezed her hand. ‘Don’t let Lester spoil your appetite. I love the way you appreciate good food.’

The smile wobbled. ‘He was so nasty. I thought...’ Her eyes searched Michael’s anxiously.

Again he squeezed her hand. ‘He’s gone, Lucy. We were enjoying ourselves. Let’s wipe him out of our minds and keep on enjoying ourselves.’

She looked at him wonderingly. ‘You can do that?’

‘Yes.’ It wasn’t the absolute truth, but he grinned at her to lighten the moment and said, ‘Though I’m glad you didn’t sleep with him. I have standards, too, and Lester doesn’t meet them.’

‘I hate abusive men,’ she said fiercely. ‘My father was abusive when he got drunk. It was a huge relief when he dropped out of our lives.’

Michael frowned, wondering what exactly ‘abusive’ entailed, if there was any bad sexual history that might have led to sluttish behaviour on Lucy’s part. ‘Do you mean violent?’ he asked cautiously.