The Rich Man's Reluctant Mistress

Lucinda helped herself to aubergine and peppers in a sweet and sour sauce and smoked mahi mahi served with crispy potato and onion. She slowly sipped pineapple juice before finally admitting she could eat no more.

Zane’s appetite was healthy too and there wasn’t much food left by the time they had finished. He leaned back in his chair. ‘I suggest we rest now before taking a dip in the pool.’

Lucinda shook her head, the thought of swimming with Zane, seeing him half naked, filling her with dread. She could imagine a hard body, smooth golden skin, firm stomach, long legs and everything else that went with it. ‘I’m here to work,’ she reminded him firmly. ‘You rest if you want to but I need to wander around again and familiarise myself with each of the rooms in turn before I can even begin to think about design.’

Zane put a hand over hers where it rested on the table. ‘There’s plenty of time for that. Today you can relax. Today I would appreciate your company.’ And he meant it. The touch of his hand was firm, his smoky eyes narrowed and warning.

A heat that had nothing to do with the climate swept through her and Lucinda wanted to pull her hand free. But of course she couldn’t do that; she couldn’t give away the fact that his touch sent shivers of apprehension rushing through her limbs. So she looked him squarely in the eye and said, ‘It’s not what I’m getting paid for.’

‘What are you, a workaholic?’ he asked harshly, letting his hand drop back to his side. ‘Don’t you believe in a little pleasure?’

‘I thought you wanted the job done as quickly as possible,’ asserted Lucinda. Pleasure was the last thing she wanted. Pleasure in her surroundings, yes, in the warmth of the sun, in the glorious blue skies, but not in Zane Alexander’s company. He was too discomfiting by far. ‘And I can’t believe that you’re willing to waste time like this. If anyone’s a workaholic it’s you.’

‘I agree,’ he said with a shrug, ‘but there’s a time and place for everything. I declare today an official holiday. Lucinda Oliver, you are not allowed to work.’

She couldn’t help smiling. This was a side to Zane that she hadn’t seen before. Relaxed, cheerful, teasing. And she couldn’t deny that she liked it. ‘In that case I think I’d like to change into something more relaxing,’ she announced and headed indoors.

She chose a gypsy skirt and a cool camisole top and as she had popped in a bikini at the last minute—just in case—she donned that as well and rejoined Zane on the sun deck.

He had moved to a reclining chair and still wore the black shirt and trousers. Lucinda had half expected him to change too, and she had listened carefully while in her room but heard no movement next door. For the moment he appeared to be a different man but she did not altogether trust him and knew that she still needed to be on her guard.

Zane patted the reclining chair he had placed near to his and reluctantly Lucinda slid on to it. It felt intimate, far too cosy for comfort. She lay back and closed her eyes but he was impossible to ignore. She could hear his breathing, she could smell the faint tang of his cologne, and knew that he was looking at her.

When the silence ran into minutes Lucinda could stand it no longer. She shot open her eyes, ready to lambaste him, or at the very least to jump to her feet and return indoors. To her amazement his lids were closed and when she looked closer she could see by his deepened breathing that he was asleep.

He had undone the buttons on his shirt and as expected his skin was firm and bronzed and she had the irrational urge to touch. Her eyes skimmed over the rest of him, over the hard flatness of his stomach and the long length of his legs. He was an extremely sexy man, even fully clothed, and it was going to be hard denying the fact.

‘Like what you see?’

Lucinda hadn’t noticed Zane open his eyes and swift heat shot through her, though she did her best to appear undisturbed. ‘You have a good physique. Do you work out?’

He nodded. ‘I have a gym in my London home.’

‘And was a swimming pool a requisite here?’

‘Of course.’

‘Do you have other homes?’ There was a lot about Zane that she didn’t know. Not that it was any business of hers, but sitting here in his relaxed company it didn’t feel like an intrusion of privacy.

He nodded. ‘LA, Australia, the south of France.’

Lucinda shook her head. ‘How can you warrant them?’

Zane’s lips tugged wryly up at the corners. ‘What else do I have to spend my money on?’

Your women friends, she felt tempted to say, but wisely kept her own counsel. ‘Why have you never married?’ she asked instead. ‘Or is that a stupid question? I guess you’re too busy making money.’

‘Not the right answer,’ he informed her tersely, his eyes flashing almost silver. ‘I’ve simply never met anyone I want to spend the rest of my life with.’

‘Let me guess,’ she dared to say. ‘Most girls are only ever interested in the state of your bank balance?’

‘Something like that,’ he agreed.

‘Are you resigned to staying a bachelor?’

‘It doesn’t worry me, though it does worry my mother,’ he admitted. ‘My parents live in Australia and my mother is for ever nagging me to get married. She wants more grandchildren.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘Here am I almost telling you my life story and I know nothing about you. Except that you don’t have a boyfriend. Which I find extremely odd because you’re a very attractive lady.’

As he spoke he looked at her appreciatively, just as she had looked at him earlier. Only he did it blatantly, not caring that she watched. Every part of her responded! Nerves tingled; hormones leapt into life; nipples tautened and strained against her soft cotton top—and he missed nothing.

‘So—tell me about yourself,’ he said, his eyes finally moving up to her face, narrowing sharply when he observed the tip of her tongue moistening her lips.

Lucinda hoped that he didn’t take it as a sign of encouragement. Her mouth had gone nervously dry and the butterflies in her stomach intensified. Heaven knew how much she wanted to dislike this man, so why didn’t she? What was it about him that caused every one of her senses to go into overdrive?

‘There’s not much to tell,’ she answered, alarmed to hear how husky her voice sounded. Damn the man! Why was he confusing her like this? Or, more importantly, why was she allowing it? Why was she letting him affect her?

Because he was one hell of a sexy man, that was the answer. She couldn’t help herself. She didn’t want to like him but was constantly pulled towards him in a cycle that would be difficult to break.

Zane probably took it for granted that most women, if not all, would fall at his feet. He could bed any woman he liked. But she didn’t have to be one of them! Without any shadow of doubt she would need to be on her guard at all times.

‘Your mother’s remarried. What happened to your father?’

‘He died,’ she answered bluntly, trying to hide the pain that still shot through her whenever she spoke about him.

‘I’m sorry. How did that happen?’

‘He’d been ill a long time. It was inevitable,’ she told him, while knowing that he didn’t really care.

‘I’m genuinely interested,’ he assured her, reading her expression. ‘I’m interested in people. I like to find out what motivates them. I already know that you don’t like your stepfather.’ Lucinda frowned and sat up just a little bit straighter. ‘I didn’t tell you that.’

‘No, but you gave the impression.’

‘Actually, it’s true.’ Her shoulders relaxed a little. ‘I hate him, and the feeling’s mutual—except that he doesn’t let my mother know it. And I hate my mother for marrying him simply for his money,’ she added bitterly.

‘She did that?’

‘It’s what many women do,’ she retorted, her eyes shooting sparks of angry fire. ‘Not that I have any intention of falling into that same trap! I’ll make my own money, thank you.’

Zane pursed his lips and nodded his head. ‘Wise woman! We’re two of a kind, you and I.’

Lucinda frowned. She knew what he meant but she didn’t like being lumped into the same category. She would never spend her money on lavish houses all over the world, not if she had a thousand million in the bank. Such extravagances didn’t appeal. The fact that people did it, and needed the likes of her to improve their interiors, was a different matter altogether.

‘So—tell me about your father,’ he said encouragingly. ‘How old were you when he died?’

Lucinda pursed her lips and her eyes grew sad. ‘Fifteen. I was heartbroken. He’d spent most of his life in and out of hospitals; we didn’t have any money, but he more than made up for it. There was always love and laughter in our house. I was so happy. What I didn’t know was that my mother gradually resented the fact that we were poor.

‘After my father died she met Goldberg, a very wealthy property developer. She shamelessly threw herself at him and within a few months they were married. We moved from our tiny rented property into his palatial mansion. He paid for my higher education; I appreciate that, but he will never replace my father. He was the most wonderful man.’

Tears misted her eyes and instantly Zane leaned forward and gathered her into his arms, dabbing her eyes with his handkerchief, murmuring words of reassurance. At first Lucinda didn’t resist; she actually felt comforted by his action, but then the reality of the situation hit her.

This man had employed her to do a job, and he was in the same league as David Goldberg; there was no way in this world that she was going to have an affair with him. He may have been only consoling her, but that wasn’t the point. She had seen the hungry look in his eyes; she knew his reputation. If she weren’t careful she would end up in his bed.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, straining to pull away. ‘It always gets to me when I talk about my father. If he knew what my mother had done he’d turn in his grave. He loved her so much. Love was all he had to give. And he gave it in bucketfuls.’ Tears welled again.

Zane pushed her head into his shoulder and held her there until she began to feel better. He stroked her hair, which had become free from its restraining tie. It amazed Lucinda that a man as important as Zane Alexander should have this caring side to him. It was totally unexpected.

Unless, of course, it wasn’t because he cared! Maybe he was using her distress as a way of getting through to her? Maybe he thought it would lead to other things? Even as the thought occurred to her Lucinda pushed her hands hard against his chest. ‘I’m all right now.’

‘Are you sure?’ He blocked her escape by cupping her face between warm firm hands. There was something almost primeval in his eyes as they locked with hers, a desire as old as man himself, and Lucinda felt unwanted warmth steal into her. It started in her toes and gradually worked its way through each limb until her whole body raged with fire. This was a situation she had told herself she would avoid at all costs. This was Zane the playboy in action. And already her needs were being fuelled by his closeness.

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