His Most Exquisite Conquest (7 page)

Forget the shadows.

Live in the sun.

CHAPTER NINE

M
ICHAEL
KEENLY
OBSERVED
the to and fro between Harry and Elizabeth over lunch. She definitely wasn’t resisting him anymore. There was no mocking, no sparring, no challenge being thrown out. Harry didn’t tease or flirt. Her smiles held genuine liking. His smiles seemed to trumpet happiness.

The writing was on the wall.

Harry was winning.

Though not necessarily to the point of seducing Elizabeth into taking on the manager’s job. She and Lucy had a home together in Cairns and the sisters were close, having only each other as family. He was fairly sure she would return to her PA job when the month was up. As for having an affair with Harry, he thought Elizabeth would be very level-headed about not expecting too much from him, since she had always perceived him as a playboy. It was unlikely that she would end up in an emotional mess over him. She would be guarded against that.

He wondered now about his initial impression that Lucy had no guard up against anything. Accustomed to being with more sophisticated women, who knew how to play it cool, he had been bowled over by her apparent openness, her spontaneity, the way she seemed to freely give everything up to him—with no guile at all. It had been so different to all his previous experience of the opposite sex, but was it real or was it the cleverest artifice that could be used on a man?

Michael felt uncomfortably conflicted by this question. He wanted Lucy to be what she seemed to be. Wanted it too much. He wasn’t used to feeling this emotionally involved, and he didn’t like it, not when she could be playing him. He needed to settle this doubt. Hopefully, Sarah and Jack Pickard might help do that when he took Lucy to their villa for afternoon tea.

The Pickards had been a fixture in his and Harry’s lives all through their teens and early manhood, with Sarah being their parents’ housekeeper and Jack being the maintenance man on their property. Harry had transferred them to the island to carry out the same roles here when that suddenly empty homestead with too many memories had been sold.

They were good people. Michael was very fond of both of them. Even more importantly, he trusted their instincts. How they reacted—responded—to Lucy would tell him how they viewed her as a person, a view uncoloured by the lust she continually stirred in him.

* * *

Lucy loved the restaurant, a huge open room overlooking the swimming pool and spa decks, the beach and the bay, with lush tropical gardens on either side. The tables were well spaced, making everything feel designed for relaxation, with no crush, no hurry, just divine surroundings and divine food and wine.

Best of all, the mood around the table was relaxed, too. Ellie recommended some of the dishes on the menu, making Lucy’s choices easy and natural. There was no sign of any tension between the brothers, so Michael couldn’t be worrying too much about losing his PA, and there was nothing but positive vibes flowing between Harry and Ellie.

It was a great lunch.

Followed by an even better afternoon.

Michael took her up to what he called a pavilion villa. This was perched on a hillside overlooking another beach, facing west to catch the sunset. It actually had a private infinity pool at the end of its open deck. Inside was just as marvellous—a white cane lounge suite in the sitting area with plump blue-and-white striped cushions, a kitchenette running along one wall leading to a totally luxurious bathroom, also in blue and white and containing a spa bath as well as a shower definitely built for two, plus a range of bath salts and body oils and lotions in exotic containers standing ready for use.

The bedroom was on a mezzanine level—not missing out on the beautiful view— and featured a king-size bed, lots of cupboards along one wall, a luggage stool where their overnight bags had already been placed and bedside tables with lamps held up by seahorses. There were artistic arrangements of shells and pieces of coral from the reef, a wall-hanging of white net holding fish made of mother-of-pearl, and large candles giving out a faint scent of frangipani.

‘This is heaven, Michael!’ she declared, swinging around with her arms out in an all-encompassing gesture.
And he is what makes it heaven,
she thought.
This man who is so impossibly perfect.

Maybe it was all too good to be true, but Lucy wasn’t about to let that thought spoil this time with him. He laughed at her exuberance, moving up the steps to the mezzanine level, where she already stood in her rush to see everything.

Her eyes gloated over him, the classically handsome face, the glowing olive skin, white, white teeth, the so masculine body shown off by smartly tailored shorts in a blue-and-grey check teamed with a royal blue sports shirt. Just the sight of his strong, muscular calves made her feel weak with desire. And the great big king-size bed was waiting right behind her.

‘Can we have a siesta?’ she asked huskily.

He grinned, his silvery-grey eyes twinkling wickedly. ‘As long as you don’t expect to sleep too much.’

Oh, she loved him, loved him, loved him, locking her arms around his neck in ecstatic possession of him as he drew her into his embrace. An idea sprang into her mind—one that would give her wonderfully free access to all of him. ‘Maybe I’ll make you go to sleep,’ she said teasingly. ‘Let me give you a massage, Michael. It would be criminal not to use one of those body oils in the bathroom, and afterwards I could wash it all off you in the spa bath.’

‘Well, I can’t say no to that.’

‘You strip off and I’ll fetch a bath sheet and the oils.’

She planted a quick kiss on his mouth, then danced away from him, down the steps to the bathroom, eager to get moving on showing him how good a masseuse she was. He was already naked and throwing off the bedcover and decorator cushions when she returned, pausing a moment to ogle his taut, cheeky butt. In the flesh, Michael Finn had to be the sexiest man alive, and excitement zinged through her at the thought of having all his flesh under her hands.

He turned and caught her eyeing him. ‘I think I see lecherous intent,’ he said laughingly.

‘I was simply measuring your muscles,’ she retorted with a grin.

‘Fair’s fair! You strip off while I spread out the bath sheet.’

She handed it to him, put the oil bottles on the bedside table and whipped off her clothes. ‘Okay, I’m naked, but no looking. This is about feeling,’ she insisted. ‘I want you to lie facedown, close your eyes and let me have my way with you.’

‘As you wish,’ he answered agreeably, doing as he was told.

Lucy tried the oils on her skin first, choosing the one with the more exotic scent. She straddled Michael, taking wicked pleasure in sitting on his sexy butt, and dribbled the oil around his shoulders and down his spine, grinning as he shuddered at the sudden coolness on his skin. ‘The heat comes next,’ she promised, taking sensual delight in swishing her breasts over his back as she leaned across him to put the bottle back on the table.

‘I’m getting a breast massage?’ he queried, amusement rumbling through his voice.

‘No. I was just indulging myself.’

‘Indulge as much as you like.’

She laughed and went to work on his shoulders with her hands, gently kneading his muscles. ‘You’re a bit tight up here. I guess that comes from working at a desk all day.’

‘Mmm...that feels very good,’ he murmured appreciatively. ‘Where did you learn to do this?’

‘Part of the beautician course. It’s more for relaxing, though, not remedial stuff.’

‘I’m all for relaxing. I can take a lot of it.’

‘I’m going to give you the whole works.’

He sighed contentedly. ‘I love your work, Lucy.’

Love me.

She willed that to happen as her hands revelled in stroking his firm male flesh, feeling the strength of his muscles, loving every part of his physique as she moved over him in a kind of sensual thrall, rubbing his arms, legs, hands, feet. The oil glistening on his skin made him look like an Olympian athlete. The scent of it grew more and more erotic to her. When she told him to roll over so she could continue the process on his front, her pulse leapt into a gallop at the sight of his fully taut erection.

She couldn’t tear her gaze off it as she knelt between his legs and ran her hands over his calves and up his thighs. The urge to bend her head and run her tongue around the tip of the shaft was irresistible. He gasped. His eyes opened into glittering slits. She took him in her mouth and he groaned her name repeatedly.

Yes!
she thought in wild elation as she lashed him with her tongue and pumped him with her mouth, excited beyond belief by this rabid possession of his manhood.
He’s mine.... He’s mine!
she thought as her own body creamed in climax.

He jackknifed up, grabbed her, lifted her, pulling her forward to fit her over him. She took him inside her, riding him, fiercely wanting to drive him over the brink, exploding everything else he cared about into meaningless atoms so that only she existed for him. He cried out as release spurted from him in uncontrollable bursts, and she writhed over him in an ecstacy of triumph.
Mine...!

He was moaning, tossing his head from side to side. She leaned forward, held it still and covered his face with kisses. His arms encircled her, pulling her down on top of him. She could feel his heart thumping. He rolled with her locked in his embrace, taking the more dominant position so he could kiss her as he willed, his mouth devouring hers in a frenzy of passion, as though he had to make her
his
now. His and his alone.

Lucy exulted in the sense of feeling secure with him. She needed this. It might not be absolutely real for always, but it was real enough for now. His desire for her, this marvellous intimacy, the heart-warming magic of being together...sheer bliss.

* * *

Michael didn’t want to think. He just wanted to wallow in the exquisite pleasure of Lucy Flippence—what she did to him, what she gave him. Yet it was so much—so much more than he’d ever expected or received from any other woman, and it had happened so quickly. Only a week. He couldn’t stop his mind from circling around the situation, trying to weigh what it meant.

Jason Lester’s jibe that she was after bigger bucks with Michael could be true. She’d said herself that she belonged in a different zoo to his social circle. Had she sized him up as a mark worth pulling out all the stops for? It actually felt like a stab to his heart to even consider it, which was a warning of how deeply she was getting to him.

He hadn’t really had any serious relationships—more a series of attractions that wore off for one reason or another. No woman had driven him to the point of obsession as Lucy did. He couldn’t get enough of her, despite the doubts that were now jangling through his mind. Even his concentration on work had been affected this past week, and he never allowed anything to interfere with his control of the franchises.

Had something changed in him?

Did Lucy touch some chord of need that had been kept locked up inside him?

Keeping faith with his father’s vision had been more important to him than anything else since his parents had died. Harry felt the same way. It was a strong bond between them. They’d poured all their energy into building on the strong business platform their father had established, possibly at the cost of a more natural lifestyle, though surely it had been in their nature to do what they’d done.

Maybe it was all about timing.

They’d succeeded in achieving what they’d set out to achieve.

Now, with Lucy suddenly bursting into his life, making him acutely aware he wanted more on a personal level...it made him feel vulnerable in a way he’d never felt before. Not in control. Knocked askew.

Again he told himself to just ride with what was happening.

It was too good not to.

Eventually the situation would sort itself out. Maybe with Jack and Sarah this afternoon.

Lucy stirred, lifting her head to smile at him, her dimples flashing endearingly. ‘I’d better run the spa bath if we’re to wash the oil scent off us before our visit to the Pickards.’

Weird that she’d thought of them at the same time as he had. He’d told her about the invitation on the trip out, explaining their connection to the family, and she’d seemed eager to meet them, interested in their life on the island.

‘Good thinking,’ he approved.

Her eyes sparkled. ‘I’ll use the watermelon bath crystals. That will clean us up.’

He laughed. She rolled away from him, off the bed, and headed for the bathroom in a provocative prance, swinging her delectable bottom, leaving a broad smile on Michael’s face and the thought in his mind that she made him laugh a lot, putting a happy zing in his life in more ways than one.

The sunshine girl...

He enjoyed the challenge of his work, keeping on top of everything, but when he walked out of his office, Lucy’s kind of sunshine was precisely what he wanted, what he needed to put his world in balance. Did he really care if it was his wealth that brought him this?

He’d prefer it not to be, but it was an integral part of who he was, which probably made it a factor in all his relationships. Except with his brother. Telling himself not to let it cloud this time with Lucy, he swung himself off the bed, rolled up the bath sheet and went to join her in the bathroom.

The spa bath was another sensual delight. She insisted on soaping him all over, her body sliding around his, then directed him to sit between her legs, his back turned to her while she shampooed his hair and gave him a scalp massage. He ended up horny and they had sex again—fun sex this time, with the bubbles from the bath crystals swirling around them.

Michael could not remember feeling more relaxed when they finally strolled down the hill to visit Jack and Sarah. He wanted them to find no fault in Lucy. He wanted today to stay as perfect as it was with this woman at his side.

Paradise...

CHAPTER TEN

L
UCY
WAS
NERVOUS
about meeting the Pickards. Normally she didn’t care if people approved of her or not, but from what Michael had told her, Jack and Sarah were almost like a second set of parents to him and Harry. They
counted
in his life, so it really mattered to her that they like her.

It helped that he was holding her hand, giving her a sense of security with him, and surely they would see he was happy with her. That should help, too. And Ellie would have made a good impression on them. Her sister had real class in every way. Not that Lucy was like her. She wasn’t. But they were
family.

The Pickards’ villa was positioned on flat land between the gym and the huge maintenance shed that housed the power generator and the desalination plant providing fresh water for the resort. Within easy walking distance of the administration centre, and bigger than the guest villas, it was a permanent home for them.

They were both on the veranda that ran across the front of the villa, probably eager to greet Michael and his companion when they arrived. Eager to look her over, too. Jack appeared to be spraying plants in tubs placed around the edge of the veranda. Sarah was in a rocking chair, flipping through a magazine.

As she caught sight of them, she put the magazine aside and stood up, calling out to Jack that they were coming. He set the spray-can on the veranda railing, took off his gloves and joined her at the top of the steps. They were both short, lean and wiry in physique, with iron-grey curly hair framing fairly weather-beaten faces—obviously active outdoors people. And they were wearing cheerful, welcoming expressions that eased some of Lucy’s inner tension.

‘It’s lovely to see you, Mickey!’ Sarah warmly declared.

‘Likewise,’ he said just as warmly. ‘And this is Lucy Flippence, Elizabeth’s sister.’

‘My, my...you’re not at all alike.’ The predictable comment came as she grasped the hand Lucy offered.

‘No. Ellie is as sharp as a tack and I guess most people would consider me fairy floss.’ Lucy tossed off the remark with a self-deprecating smile.

‘I always thought there was some magic in fairy floss,’ Jack said, grinning at her as he took her hand and shook it.

She laughed, relieved that he accepted her so readily. ‘I think this island is magic, and Michael tells me you’ve both helped to make it so.’

‘Oh, we do our bit. We love it here, don’t we, Sarah?’

‘Yes, we’re very lucky,’ she agreed.

‘I see you’ve got your roses growing well, Jack,’ Michael remarked.

Lucy was surprised. ‘Roses? Here?’

Jack’s eyes twinkled with pleasure. ‘It was a challenge, but...’ he stepped back, his arm swinging out to gesture to the tubs ‘...coming into bloom now.’

Lucy spotted a yellow bud just opening up. ‘Is that a Pal Joey?’

‘Yes, it’s one of my favourites,’ Sarah answered. ‘It has such a lovely scent.’

‘I know. It’s beautiful. I was at Greenlands Cemetery last Monday and an elderly man was planting a Pal Joey rose bush on his wife’s grave. He said he couldn’t have his Gracie lie there without her favourite rose.’

Sarah’s face softened. ‘Oh, how very loving of him!’

‘They’d been married almost sixty years. I thought it was wonderful. Do you grow them for Sarah, Jack?’

‘For both of us.’ He smiled ruefully at his wife. ‘But should I have the misfortune of Sarah passing first, I shall certainly plant one on her grave.’

She smiled back. ‘You do that, Jack.’

Lucy sighed. ‘It’s so nice to meet married people who are devoted to one another. There’s not enough of it.’

‘You can make your own world, Lucy,’ Sarah said philosophically. ‘And how is it that the cemetery features in yours?’

‘It’s her job,’ Michael put in. ‘Lucy is in cemetery administration.’

That startled Sarah. ‘Good heavens! Do you like it?’

‘So far I do. I haven’t been in it for long,’ she admitted. ‘It gives me plenty of opportunities to visit my mother’s grave. She died when I was seventeen, and I like to chat to her, tell her what I’m thinking and feeling. It sort of settles me down when I feel a bit adrift, you know?’

She was running off at the mouth as she always did when she felt nervous. But Sarah didn’t seem to think she was weird or anything, taking her hand again and patting it in a comforting way.

‘It’s very sad, losing your mother so young,’ she said sympathetically.

‘Yes, though Ellie is great. She takes charge of everything.’

Sarah nodded. ‘I can see how she’d do that. She’s handling everything very well here.’

‘Don’t you weigh in with Harry, Sarah,’ Michael quickly interjected. ‘Elizabeth is my PA. This situation is only temporary.’

‘Not my business,’ she assured him, stepping back to wave them forward. ‘Come on through. I’ve set up afternoon tea on the back veranda. It has a view of the beach and sea.’

‘Can I help you with anything?’ Lucy asked as they were led into a large living area encompassing kitchen, dining room and lounge, all furnished in a very homely way.

‘I just have to boil the kettle, dear, but stay with me and chat. You can help take the cake and cookies out when the tea is ready.’

‘Please tell me they’re your peanut butter cookies,’ Michael said with relish.

Sarah laughed. ‘Would I bake you any other? Go along with Jack now. We’ll be out in a few minutes.’

The two men made their exit via a back door. Sarah switched the kettle on, then turned to Lucy, her hazel eyes bright with interest. ‘Your sister told me you met Mickey at the office.’

‘Yes, it was Ellie’s birthday last Monday and I dropped in to see her. Harry was there, too, and we all ended up having lunch together.’

‘You must have seen more of Mickey this week for him to bring you here.’

Sarah was fishing, but Lucy didn’t mind answering. ‘Every night! It’s been amazing! I feel like I’m in the middle of a fairy tale with him. He’s such a prince!’

‘He is, isn’t he?’ she said fondly. ‘So is Harry. They’re both very special men. Like their parents. They were special, too.’

‘Michael said he lost them about the same time I lost my mother.’

Sarah sighed. ‘A terrible tragedy. But they’d be very proud of their sons. Very proud.’

Realising that this woman had to know Michael’s character through and through, Lucy decided to take the risk of confiding how she felt—the doubts she had about how Michael viewed this relationship, whether it could become really meaningful to him in his mind and heart.

She made an ironic grimace and gestured helplessly. ‘The trouble is I’m not sure I can live up to him, Sarah. I mean...I’m more or less a Cinderella in his world. He’s asked me to attend a ball with him next Saturday night, and I’m scared stiff that I won’t fit in with his friends.’

‘Don’t be scared, Lucy,’ the older woman advised. ‘If Mickey wants you with him, he’ll look after you. He’s very like his father. Intense about anything he sets himself to do, and extremely protective of anyone he cares for.’

But did he really
care
for her? That was the big question.

‘Then I should be okay,’ Lucy said with a smile, thinking she’d probably dug as far as she could dig.

Sarah smiled back. ‘I’m sure you will be, dear.’

The kettle boiled and she filled a large teapot that was patterned with roses. Lucy imagined the cups and saucers set outside would match.

‘You
are
lucky, Sarah. There were no roses in my mother’s marriage,’ she wryly remarked. ‘If I ever marry, it will only be to a man who loves me enough to give me roses.’

‘Can’t wait!’ Michael announced from behind them. ‘I’m going to snaffle a cookie.’

‘We’re coming!’ Sarah chided.

‘Fine! You bring the tea. I’ll take the plate of cookies and Lucy can carry the banana cake.’

‘How do you know it’s a banana cake? It’s covered in icing,’ Lucy pointed out.

Michael grinned at Sarah, his eyes twinkling with certain knowledge.

‘It’s banana cake,’ she conceded.

‘You’re a treasure, Sarah.’

‘Oh, you and Harry always butter me up to get what you want.’ She waved to the plate of cookies. ‘Take them. We’ll follow you out.’

They settled around a large wooden table on the back veranda, which faced a different bay than the administration centre. ‘This beach catches the afternoon sun,’ Jack pointed out. ‘And, of course, we get the sunset view from here.’

As would the pavilion villa up on the hill, Lucy thought happily.

‘You have a gorgeous lot of bougainvillea out here, Jack,’ she remarked, gesturing to the brightly coloured profusion of them surrounding the veranda.

‘They don’t mind the sandy soil and sea air. Easy to grow here,’ he explained.

‘Did you do that wonderful tropical garden around the restaurant?’

Her curiosity about the development of the resort made for an easy, relaxed conversation over afternoon tea. Jack was proud of his work and Sarah was proud of her husband’s ability to turn his hand to anything. Lucy coaxed smiles and laughter out of both of them, which always promoted a happy time and reduced any chance of self-conscious tension taking hold.

* * *

Michael sat back and watched her charm Jack and Sarah. She had quite extraordinary people skills, focusing on whoever was talking, picking up on their interests, making them seem just as interesting to her. Her smiles evoked smiles, and her laughter was infectious.

When she asked about how the sea water was turned into fresh, Michael quickly suggested to Jack that he take Lucy down to the maintenance shed and show her the process. It would give him some time alone with Sarah, who was a shrewd judge of character. Her opinion of other women he’d brought here had always been spot on.

Jack was only too pleased to show Lucy anything. He was clearly very taken by her. Most men would be, Michael thought, no matter how old.
The honey bee...
Lester’s name for her slid into his mind again and he frowned as Lucy and Jack left the veranda together. Lester had given it a sexual connotation, but Lucy had not been consciously sexy over afternoon tea. She was simply...very appealingly female.

‘What’s wrong, Mickey?’ Sarah asked quietly.

He shook his head. ‘Just a problem I have.’

‘To do with Lucy?’

‘What do you think of her, Sarah?’

‘A joy to be with,’ she answered with a smile.

‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘Anything else?’

Sarah mused for a few moments before remarking, ‘She’s quite different from the other women you’ve brought over here. More spontaneous, artless...’

‘Not a scheming gold-digger?’ he pressed.

Sarah looked shocked. ‘Not at all! Has she done anything to make you think it?’

‘I am a very wealthy man,’ he said drily.

‘That can be intimidating to a girl like Lucy, Mickey,’ she quickly argued. ‘It can make her think she’s not good enough for you.’

‘She’s beautiful. She’s sexy. She’s fun. That’s a fairly good trade-off, Sarah.’

‘If you have a lot of self-esteem, and I don’t think she has,’ Sarah replied thoughtfully. ‘There’s not much ego running around in that girl. She focuses on other people, doesn’t want the spotlight turned on herself.’

‘Because she’s hiding something?’ Michael queried, wondering if that was the case.

‘I don’t know. Her comment about being fairy floss compared to her sister made me think she knew she could never compete with Elizabeth, possibly from an early age. So she conceded all that ground and chose a different path for herself—one that didn’t demand more than she felt capable of doing.’

‘She is the younger sister. Elizabeth called her ditzy,’ Michael recalled.

Sarah shot him an ironic smile. ‘That’s probably a good cover for feeling inadequate.’

He frowned over that possibility. ‘I doubt Lucy feels inadequate. She’s held quite an amazing array of jobs—model, beautician, tour guide, dancing teacher, amongst other things. It’s as though she’s drawn to try anything and everything. She dropped out of school to nurse her mother, who died of cancer, and never went back to complete any formal education—said she had no head for study after that. But I think she manages to do quite well for herself.’

‘Where was Elizabeth when her mother was dying?’

‘At home. Already at business college, so I imagine Lucy did the bulk of the nursing.’

‘While Elizabeth prepared to take on the future.’ Sarah nodded in understanding. ‘Would you say the sisters are close?’

‘Yes. Very different but very close. Lucy called Elizabeth her anchor.’

‘When she feels adrift...that’s what she said about visiting her mother’s grave.’ Sarah gave Michael a very direct look. ‘You don’t have a scheming gold-digger on your hands, Mickey. I’d say if Lucy is hiding anything, it’s something she feels very vulnerable about. Be careful how you treat her.’ His friend’s serious expression cracked into a smile. ‘She sees you as a prince.’

Michael grinned at her. ‘Until I turn into a frog. According to Lucy, most princes eventually turn into frogs.’

Sarah laughed. ‘She is a delight, that girl! In some ways, she’s very like your mother. A joy to be with.’

Yes.

It was exactly what had been missing from his life, ever since his mother had died.

That was the chord Lucy struck in him—a much deeper need than the lust she stirred. A need for that emptiness to be filled.

‘It’s been good talking to you, Sarah,’ he said appreciatively.

Someone he could trust.

Someone who would never lie to him.

He needed that, too.

If Lucy was covering up something she didn’t want him to know, trying to keep him blinded with her fairy floss, he couldn’t really trust her.

What did she feel she had to keep hidden?

The number of men in her past?

Maybe he should have questioned her about that last night. Maybe he should do it now. But remembering the anguish in her eyes after Lester had left them with his poison, Michael didn’t want to bring that back and spoil this weekend with her.
Let it ride for a while,
he told himself again. But he wouldn’t forget that Lucy could be keeping something from him—something that was important for him to know before this relationship went much further.