Love Islands: Red-Hot Sunsets. Jane Porter. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Jane Porter
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: Mills & Boon M&B
Жанр произведения: Короткие любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781474095174
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transmit what she was thinking, like a shining beacon advertising the lay of the land. ‘I know you’re out of your comfort zone but I wouldn’t want you to get any ideas.’

      Comprehension came in an angry rush...although, a little voice whispered treacherously in her head, hadn’t she been looking at him? Had he spotted that and decided to nip any awkwardness in the bud by putting down ‘no trespass’ signs? She wasn’t his type and he was gently but firmly telling her not to start thinking that she might be. ‘You’re right.’ Katy sat back and folded her arms. ‘I am out of my comfort zone and I am impressed. Who wouldn’t be? But it takes more than a big boat with lots of fancy gadgets to suddenly turn its owner into someone I could ever be attracted to.’

      ‘Is that a fact?’

      ‘Yes, it is. I know my place and I’m perfectly happy there. You asked me why do I continue to work in a school? Because I enjoy giving back. I only work for your company, Mr Cipriani, because the pay enables me to afford my rent. If I could somehow be paid more as a teacher, then I would ditch your job in a heartbeat.’ Katy thought that, at the rate she was going, she wouldn’t have to ditch his job because it would be ditching her. ‘You don’t have to warn me off you and you don’t have to be afraid that I’m going to start suddenly wanting to have a big boat like this of my own...’

      ‘For goodness’ sake, it’s a yacht, not a boat.’ And the guy who had overseen its unique construction and charged mightily for the privilege would be incandescent at her condescending referral to it as a boat. Although, Lucas thought, his lips twitching as he fought off a grin, it would certainly be worth seeing. The man, if memory served him right, had embodied all the worst traits of someone happy to suck up to the rich while stamping down hard on the poor.

      Katy shrugged. ‘You know what I mean. At any rate, Mr Cipriani, you don’t want to be stuck here with me and I don’t want to be stuck here with you either.’

      ‘Lucas.’

      ‘Sorry?’

      ‘I think it’s appropriate that we move onto first names. The name is Lucas.’

      Flustered, Katy stared at him. ‘I wouldn’t feel right calling you by your first name,’ she muttered, bright red. ‘You’re my boss.’

      ‘I’ll break the ice. Are you hungry, Katy? Maria will have prepared food and she will be unreasonably insulted if we don’t eat what she has cooked. I’ll call her up to serve us, after which she’ll show you to your quarters.’

      ‘Call her up?’

      ‘The food won’t magically appear on our plates.’

      ‘I don’t feel comfortable being waited on as though I’m royalty,’ Katy told him honestly. ‘If you direct me, I’m sure I can do whatever needs doing.’

      ‘You’re not the hired help, Katy.’

      Katy shivered at the use of her name. It felt...intimate. She resolved to avoid calling him by his name unless absolutely necessary: perhaps if she fell overboard and was in the process of drowning. Even then she knew she would be tempted to stick to Mr Cipriani.

      ‘That’s not the point.’ She stood up and looked at him, waiting to be directed, then she realised that he genuinely had no idea in which direction he should point her. She clicked her tongue and began rustling through the drawers, being nosy in the fridge before finding casserole dishes in the oven.

      She could feel his dark, watchful eyes following her every movement, but she was relieved that he hadn’t decided to fetch Maria, because this was taking away some of her jitters. Instead of sitting in front of him, perspiring with nerves and with nowhere to rest her eyes except on him, which was the least restful place they could ever land, busying herself like this at least occupied her, and it gave her time to get her thoughts together and forgive herself for behaving out of character.

      It was understandable. Twenty-four hours ago, she’d been doing her job and going through all the usual daily routines. Suddenly she’d been thrown blindfolded into the deep end of a swimming pool and it was only natural for her to flounder before she found her footing.

      She could learn something from this because, after Duncan, being kind to herself had come hard. She had blamed herself for her misjudgements. How could she have gone so wrong when she had spent a lifetime being so careful and knowing just what she wanted? She had spent months beating herself up for her mistake in not spotting the kind of man he had been. She had been raised by two loving parents who had instilled the right values in her, so how had she been sucked into a relationship with a man who had no values at all?

      So here she was, acting out of character and going all hot and cold in the company of a man she had just met five seconds ago. It didn’t mean anything and she wasn’t going to beat herself up over it. There was nothing wrong with her. It was all a very natural reaction to unforeseen circumstances.

      Watching her, Lucas thought that this was just the sort of domestic scene he had spent a lifetime avoiding. He also thought that, despite what he had said about his high-flying career women wanting no more than he was willing to give them, many of them had tentatively broached the subject of a relationship that would be more than simply a series of fun one-night stands. He had always shot those makings of uncomfortable conversations down in flames. But looking at the way Katy was pottering in this kitchen, making herself at home, he fancied that many an ex would have been thrilled to do the same.

      ‘I like cooking,’ she told him, bringing the food to the table and guilt-tripping him into giving her a hand because, as he had pointed out with spot-on accuracy, she wasn’t the hired help. ‘It’s not just because it feels wrong to summon Maria here to do what I could easily do, but I honestly enjoy playing around with food. This smells wonderful. Is she a qualified chef?’

      ‘She’s an experienced one,’ Lucas murmured.

      ‘Tell me where we’re anchored,’ Katy encouraged. ‘I noticed an island. How big is it? Do you have a house there?’

      ‘The island is big enough for essentials and, although there is some tourism, it’s very exclusive, which is the beauty of the place. And, yes, I have a villa there. In fact, I had planned on spending a little time there on my own, working flat-out on finalising my deal without interruptions, but plans changed.’

      He didn’t dwell on that. He talked, instead, about the island and then, as soon as he was finished eating, he stood up and took his plate to the sink. Katy followed his lead, noticing that his little foray into domesticity didn’t last long, because he remained by the sink, leaning against it with his arms folded. She couldn’t help but be amused. Just like the perplexed frown when he had first entered the kitchen, his obvious lack of interest in anything domestic was something that came across as ridiculously macho yet curiously endearing. If a man like Lucas Cipriani could ever be endearing, she thought drily.

      ‘You can leave that,’ was his contribution. ‘Maria will take care of it in the morning.’

      Katy paused and looked up at him with a half-smile. Looking down at her, he had an insane urge to...to what?

      She had a mouth that was lush, soft and ripe for kissing. Full, pink lips that settled into a natural, sexy pout. He wondered whether they were the same colour as her nipples, and he inhaled sharply because bringing her here was one thing, but getting ideas into his head about what she might feel like was another.

      ‘I’ll show you to your cabin,’ he said abruptly, heading off without waiting while she hurriedly stacked the plates into the sink before tripping along behind him.

      Let this be a lesson in not overstepping the mark, she thought firmly. They’d had some light conversation, as per his ground rules, but it would help to remember that they weren’t pals and his tolerance levels when it came to polite chit chat would only go so far. Right now, he’d used up his day’s quota, judging from the sprint in his step as he headed away from the kitchen.

      ‘Have you brought swimsuits?’ he threw over his shoulder.

      ‘No.’