by Fiona Brand
“Let me guess, he wanted ‘sexual therapy’ to help him with his problems?”
Another wave drove Elena closer still, so that their legs tangled and their bodies bumped. Automatically, she grasped his shoulders. “That’s what’s stated on his police record?”
“He targets therapists. Lately he’s been doing the rounds of the health spas. Although this will be his last attempt.”
“You’re going to get him.” Her gaze was intense and laced with the kind of admiration that made his heart swell in his chest. Finally, he was doing something right. He stared, mesmerized at her golden, flowerlike irises and wondered how she could ever have reached the conclusion that she had to change those. “I’ll sic my lawyers onto him as soon as we get in.”
Leaning forward, she touched her mouth to his. “Thank you.”
The kiss deepened. He fitted her close against him, acutely aware of the smoothness of her skin against his, the tiny span of her waist and the delicacy of her curves.
The moment when he had realized that Irvine had swum after her replayed itself.
Unconsciously, his hold on Elena tightened. He had let her out of his sight, too busy brooding over the easy way she had shut him out, and Irvine had taken his chance. That wouldn’t happen again. From now on, he would make certain that Elena was protected at all times.
Messena women routinely required protection because the amount of wealth his family possessed made them a target. Elena hadn’t agreed to a relationship with him—yet—but even so, she would accept his protection. There was a small clause in all Atraeus and Messena employment contracts he could exploit if he needed to.
She wouldn’t like it, but as far as he was concerned, until Irvine was put behind bars, Elena wouldn’t move more than a few paces without either him or a bodyguard protecting her.
When she pulled back and released her hold, Nick had to forcibly restrain himself from reaching for her again. Instead, when she indicated that she wanted to head for shore, he contented himself with swimming with slow, leisurely strokes so she could easily keep pace.
As he waded from the water, satisfaction eased some of his tension when he saw Irvine still struggling in the surf, holding his nose.
When Elena stepped out of the water and Nick got his first real look at the bikini, he felt as though he’d been punched in the stomach. With her hair a satiny cap, her skin sleek with water, she was both exotic and stunning. The bikini revealed long, elegant legs and the kind of slim, curvaceous figure that made his mouth water, the bright jungle print giving Elena’s skin a tawny glow.
He had always registered that she was pretty and attractive, but now she took his breath.
As Elena reached for the towel she had tossed down on the sand, a scuffling sound attracted Nick’s attention. Harold, the carbon copy of the sainted Robert, was walking over the rocks, his gaze firmly fixed on Elena.
“That’s it,” he muttered. “No more men on your weekend seminars.”
* * *
Elena wrapped the towel around herself and knotted it, successfully concealing almost every part of the bikini but the halter tie around her neck. Her first outing in the skimpy swimming costume had been a disaster. After the unhealthy way Irvine had looked at her, his eyes practically glowing, she was over revealing her new body. “Harold’s harmless.”
The complete opposite of Nick, who, with his gaze narrowed and glittering as he regarded Harold’s halting progress, looked both tough and formidable. “Like Irvine?”
A shudder went through her. “Point made.”
She noted that Harold’s gaze was riveted on her chest. Her stomach plunged. She suddenly wished she hadn’t spent so much time talking to Harold, who seemed to have misconstrued her intentions. “Do you think—?”
Nick said something short and sharp beneath his breath. “You should know by now that if you spend time with a guy, chances are he’s going to think you’re interested in him.”
Elena recoiled from the concept of Harold falling in clinging lust with her. Reinventing herself and wearing the alluring clothes she had always longed to wear had an unexpected dark side. “That hasn’t been my experience.”
Nick’s gaze sliced back to hers. “You’ve dated. I checked.”
“You pried into my personal life?”
“You work for the Atraeus Group. We now share a database in common.”
“You accessed my personal file.” A file that did contain a list of the men she had dated. Working as a PA to both Lucas then Zane Atraeus, she was privy to confidential information and anyone she dated was also scrutinized.
Elena’s intense irritation that Nick was poking his nose into her private affairs was almost instantly replaced by a spiraling sense of delight that he was worried enough to do so.
Her attention was momentarily diverted as Harold unfastened his shirt and tossed it on the sand, revealing an unexpectedly tanned, toned torso. “I don’t think I’ll include men in the pamper program again.”
Nick’s head swung in Harold’s direction, and he muttered a soft oath. “Include men, babe, and you can bank on it that I’ll be there.”
The blunt possessiveness of his attitude, combined with the way he had come after her to protect her from Irvine, filled Elena with the kind of wild, improbable hope she knew she should squash. Hope messed with her focus. She needed to approach this night together exactly as Nick would—as a pleasurable interlude from which she could walk away unscathed.
Nick’s gaze dropped to her mouth. “If you want to get rid of Harold, you should kiss me again.”
A shaft of heat at the prospect of another passionate, off-the-register kiss seared through her. “It’s not exactly professional.”
“The hell with professional.”
As Nick’s hands settled at her waist, the clinical list of things she would absolutely not allow was swamped by another wave of pure desire. Before she could stop herself, mouth dry, heart pounding a wild tattoo, she stepped close and slid her palms over the muscled swell of his shoulders.
Without the cool water that had swirled around them out at sea, Nick’s skin was hot to the touch. Taking a deep breath, she went up on her toes and fitted herself more closely against him.
The instant her mouth touched his, she forgot about Irvine and Harold, and she forgot about the strategy she’d decided upon. Streamers of heat seemed to shimmer out from each point of contact as Nick gathered her closer still, his arms a solid bar in the small of her back.
A small thrill went through her as her feet left the ground and she found it necessary to wind her arms around Nick’s neck and hang on. The situation was absolutely contrary to her plan to control her emotions and keep her heart intact, to inform Nick that she was not the easy, forgettable conquest she’d been in the past.
Dimly, she registered that the towel had peeled away and that she was sealed against Nick from thigh to mouth. Long, dizzying minutes later, a rhythmic, vibrating sound broke the dazed grip of passion.
Elena identified the sound as the ringtone of a cell, emanating from Nick’s jeans, which were tossed on the sand beside her beach bag.
With a searing glance, Nick released his hold on her.
Stumbling a little in the sand and again conscious of the brevity of the bikini, Elena noticed that Harold had disappeared. She snatched up her tunic.
By the time she’d pulled the filmy tunic over her head and smoothed it down over her hips, Nick had walked several paces away. His back was turned for privacy and he seemed totally immersed in his call.
She caught the phrases “construction crew” and “form work,” which meant the call was work related.
Despite the heat that radiated from the sand and seemed to float on the air, Elena felt abruptly chilled at the swiftness with which Nick had switched from passion to work.
&
nbsp; Retrieving her towel, she tried not to focus on the pang of hurt, or a bone-deep, all-too-familiar sense of inevitability.
Of course work would come first with Nick. Hadn’t it always? It wasn’t as if she had ever proved to be a fascinating, irresistible lover to him.
What they had shared was passionate, and to her, beautiful and unique, but it was as if she had never truly connected with Nick. She was certain Nick had the capacity to return love, she just didn’t believe it would be with her on the receiving end.
She rummaged in her green tote, found her sunglasses and jammed them onto the bridge of her nose. In the process, her fingers brushed against a book of lovemaking techniques she had bought online. Her cheeks warmed at the research she’d embarked upon because she felt so hopelessly out of her depth in that area. It was part of her general makeover; although the whole idea of planning lovemaking became irrelevant around Nick. It just happened.
She was still reeling from the last kiss and the notion that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.
As if he couldn’t get enough of her.
Nick pulled on his jeans and T-shirt and slipped the phone into his pocket. “Time to go.”
The searing reality of what would happen when they got back to the resort stopped the breath in her throat. “We’ve only been here an hour.”
“An hour too long, as far as I’m concerned.” Snagging her towel and beach bag, Nick held out his hand to her.
Elena’s breath caught in her throat at the sudden softness in his gaze, an out-of-the-blue sense of connection that caught her off guard. It was the kind of warming intimacy she had dreamed about and wanted. As if they were friends as well as lovers. Something caught in her throat, her heart, abruptly turning her plans upside down. A conviction that there really was something special between them, something that refused to fade away and die, despite the attempts both of them had made to starve it out of existence.
Nick might not recognize what it was, yet, but she did. It was love.
And not just any love. If she wasn’t mistaken, this was the bona fide, once-in-a-lifetime love she had dreamed about. The dangerous kind of love that broke hearts and changed lives, and which she had longed for ever since that one night with Nick six years ago.
From one heartbeat to the next the conflict of making love with Nick when she was supposed to be keeping him at arm’s length zapped out of existence to be replaced with a new, clear-cut priority.
Making love with Nick was no longer an untenable risk or an exercise in control; it was imperative.
As crazy as it seemed with everything that had gone wrong, they were at a crucial tipping point in their relationship. Now was not the time to shrink back and make conservative choices; passion was called for.
By some fateful chance, Nick had taken her quiz and given her an insight into aspects of his personality she would not have believed were there. The kind of warmth and consideration that would make him perfect husband material.
On the heels of that, she had unraveled a piece of his past in the disabled, overweight boy with glasses he had once been.
She had agreed to spend the night in his bed.
Her heart pounded at the thought of the passionate hours that lay ahead, their third night together.
Nick had gone out on a limb to get her back, even if he couldn’t quite express his intentions, yet. She was now convinced that the risk she had taken twice before, and which each time had failed, was now viable.
It was up to her to help Nick feel emotionally secure enough to make the final step into an actual relationship. To do what, in her heart of hearts, she had wanted him to for years: to finally fall in love with her.
Thirteen
Nick marshaled the guests back onto the yacht with the promise of free champagne, cocktails and dessert when they reached the resort. The regular manager would probably have a heart attack when he saw the damage to his bottom line on this particular venture, but the way Nick saw it, his night with Elena took precedence.
He had engineered a window of opportunity. He wasn’t going to let that time be eroded because clients wanted more time on the beach.
When Irvine stepped aboard, Nick intercepted him and suggested they both go below.
Irvine’s expression turned belligerent. “You can’t give me orders. I’m a paying guest.”
Nick stepped a little closer to Irvine, deliberately crowding him and at the same time blocking him, and their very private conversation, from the rest of the guests. “You also tried to molest Ms. Lyon.”
His gaze turned steely. “You can’t prove that.”
“Maybe not, but we can have some fun trying.”
Irvine tried to peer over his shoulder. “Now I’m scared. Elena wouldn’t lay charges.”
Aware that Elena was conducting a conversation with some of the guests on the bow, Nick moved to block Irvine’s view. “Let me see. This would be the same Elena Lyon who has a double degree that she shelved in favor of being Lucas Atraeus’s personal assistant for five years.”
Irvine’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “The Lucas Atraeus—?”
“Who engineered a number of mining company and resort takeovers and tipped over a major construction company that tried to use substandard steel on one of his developments.” Nick crossed his arms over his chest. “Elena might look little and cute, but she orchestrated Lucas’s schedule, monitored his calls, including the death threats, and deployed security when required.”
Irvine paled. “I don’t get it. If she’s that high-powered, what’s she doing in Dolphin Bay?”
“Spending time with me.” Nick jerked his chin in the direction of the two inflatable boats that, on his instructions, hadn’t yet been tied at the stern and were still bobbing against the side of the yacht. “I’ll make things even simpler for you. If you don’t go below, you can stay on the island until I come back to get you. After that, it’s a one way trip to the Dolphin Bay Police Station.”
After a taut moment, Irvine visibly deflated. With a shrug, he started down the stairs.
Nick followed him and indicated a seat in the dining area, positioned so Nick could keep an eye on him while he was at the wheel.
Expression set, Irvine sat. “Who could know that there would be a police station in a hick town like this?”
“Just one guy—that’s all Dolphin Bay needs. And as luck would have it, he happens to be a relative.” A distant uncle, on his mother’s side.
Irvine seemed to shrink into himself even further at that last piece of information. Satisfied that he was contained for the moment, Nick went topside and skimmed the deck, looking for Harold. Relief filled him as he noted that Harold had evidently given up on Elena and now seemed to be directing all of his charm toward Eva.
Eva caught his gaze for a split second and winked.
Grim humor lightened Nick’s mood as he logged exactly what she was doing—running interference. Somehow, with the scary talent Eva had for figuring out exactly what was going on in men’s heads, she had summed up the situation and taken charge of Harold before Nick chucked him over the side.
Minutes later, after starting the yacht’s motor, then weighing anchor, Nick took the wheel. A faint, enticingly feminine floral scent informed him that Elena was close. Turning his head, he met her frowning gaze.
“What did you do with Irvine?”
“Don’t worry, I didn’t hit him. He’s in containment.” He indicated the glass panel that gave a view into the dining room below.
Satisfaction eased the tension on Elena’s face. “Good, I don’t want him causing trouble for any of my clients. Bad for business.”
“That’s my girl.”
Her gaze locked with his, the absence of levity informing him that she hadn’t liked the situation with Harold or Irvine one little bit. Her
reaction was a stark reminder that no matter how strong or efficient Elena seemed, when it came to men she was in definite need of protection.
He had to resist the urge to pull her close and tuck her against his side. There was no need for the primitive methods he had employed on the beach. Irvine was controlled and he had made arrangements to have him removed from the resort as soon as they reached Dolphin Bay.
As much as he would like to lay a formal complaint againt Irvine, he was aware there wasn’t anything concrete that Irvine could be charged with since all he had done was make an advance, which Elena had rebuffed. Besides, police procedure took time. Elena was exclusively his for just a few hours. He wasn’t going to waste that time trying to get Irvine locked up.
His jaw tightened at the thought that one more night might be all they’d have. The desire for more than a sexual liaison settled in more powerfully. The thought process was new, but he was adjusting.
Elena crossed her arms over her chest as the yacht picked up speed, hugging the thin fabric of her tunic against her skin. She sent a worried glance in Eva’s direction. “Will Eva be okay?”
Satisfaction at Elena’s total rejection of Harold, with his smooth good looks, eased some of Nick’s tension. He spared another glance for Eva and Harold, and noted the change in Harold’s body language. The expansive confidence was gone and his shoulders had slumped. He no longer seemed to be enjoying the conversation. “Don’t worry about Eva. She can spot ‘married’ from a mile off.”
“A consequence of being in the wedding business, I suppose.”
Nick lifted a hand at the deckhand who had secured the inflatables. “Eva came from a broken home before Mario adopted her. She’s never placed much trust in relationships.”
Elena slipped sunglasses onto the bridge of her nose and gripped a railing as the yacht picked up speed. “Sounds like a family trait.”
Aware that Elena was maneuvering the conversation into personal territory he usually avoided, Nick made an attempt to relax. “Maybe.”
