His Most Exquisite Conquest

Lucy was nervous. Excited, too. Much more excited than she usually was about having a first date with a new man, which was probably what was making her so nervous.

Plus the fact that Michael Finn was a high-flyer and she had never connected with anyone from his level of society. She was definitely out of his league in any social sense, and more than likely he only wanted a sexual fling with her—which she might as well accept right now and not get herself in a twist about it.

Regardless of his intentions she wanted to be with him, wanted to experience him, so no way was she going to back off at this point. Besides, a Cinderella could win a prince. Miracles could happen. Failing that, if the worst came to the worst she could write off her time with him as a case of real lust being satisfied—because while she had certainly fancied other guys in the past it had not been like this, not nearly as strongly as this. Michael Finn had her in an absolute tizzy of lust.

THE LEGENDARY FINN BROTHERS

Australia’s most eligible billionaires!

THE INCORRIGIBLE PLAYBOY

January 2013

Everyone has heard about Harry Finn’s reputation: he’s utterly ruthless in the pursuit of beautiful women, and his devilishly charming smile is virtually irresistible! What he wants, he gets—and top of his list is secretary Elizabeth Flippence…

HIS MOST EXQUISITE CONQUEST

July 2013

Notorious for being merciless in the boardroom, tycoon Michael Finn is all work and no play.

Distractions aren’t on his agenda— especially in the too-tempting shape of bubbly, beautiful Lucy Flippence…

About the Author

Initially a French/English teacher, EMMA DARCY changed careers to computer programming before the happy demands of marriage and motherhood. Very much a people person, and always interested in relationships, she finds the world of romance fiction a thrilling one, and the challenge of creating her own cast of characters very addictive.

Recent titles by the same author:

 THE INCORRIGIBLE PLAYBOY

  (The Legendary Finn Brothers)

 AN OFFER SHE CAN’T REFUSE

 THE COSTARELLA CONTRACT

 HIDDEN MISTRESS, PUBLIC WIFE

Did you know these are also available as eBooks? Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk

His Most

Exquisite

Conquest

Emma Darcy

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHAPTER ONE

A DEARLY BELOVED daughter buried in the wrong plot.

A man digging up a grave.

A dog running amok in the memorial garden, knocking off angels’ heads.

What a Monday morning, Lucy Flippence thought as she drove to Greenlands Cemetery, having been given the job of dealing with these situations. Just when some slack time would have been very handy, too, it being her sister’s birthday. It would be really nice to take Ellie out to lunch, especially since Lucy was dying to see her in the wildly colourful new clothes with the new hairdo.

It would be like a complete makeover and highly due, given it was Ellie’s thirtieth birthday. For the past two years her sister had been drowning in blacks and greys and taupes, and so caught up in being Michael Finn’s personal assistant, she didn’t have any other life—not one man sparking her interest.

Right now Lucy had quite a fresh understanding of this disinterest in men. The nasty incident in the Irish pub at Port Douglas had spoiled her weekend away with friends. The guy had started out a promising prince and turned into a horrid frog. It seemed to her they all did, sooner or later. At twenty-eight she had yet to meet one whose shining armour remained shiny, regardless of circumstances.

Even so, she wasn’t about to give up on men. She enjoyed the exciting high of a new attraction, loved the sense of being loved, if only for a little while. It was worth the hurt of being disillusioned. As long as she lived, she was going to be out there, experiencing everything that looked and felt good. It was what her mother had told her to do—her mother who’d married her horrible frog father because she was pregnant with Ellie.

‘Don’t ever make that mistake, Lucy. Be careful.’

She was.

Always careful.

Especially since she didn’t want to have children, didn’t want to pass on her dyslexia, blighting another life with it. Putting a child through what she’d been through at school was not an act of love, and the problems didn’t stop there, either. The incurable disability blocked a heap of avenues that normal people simply took in their stride.

The thought of an innocent baby being born with a wrongly wired brain like hers triggered a strongly negative recoil inside Lucy. She would not risk that happening. Which meant, of course, she would probably never marry—no real point to it if having a family was out of the question.

There was, however, always the hope of meeting a prince who didn’t care about having children, or perhaps one who had a genetic fault of his own and would be happy to simply settle with having each other to love. She hadn’t ruled out these possibilities. They bolstered her resolve to keep moving on, making the most of her journey through life.

The cemetery on the outskirts of Cairns came into view. It was aptly named Greenlands—everything being so very green as it usually was up here in far north tropical Queensland, especially after the big wet and before the oppressive heat of summer. August was always a pleasant month and Lucy was glad she wasn’t stuck in the office, closed off from the lovely sunshine.

As she drove the van into the parking lot, she spotted a man wielding a shovel beside one of the graves. He looked elderly and Lucy instantly decided he wouldn’t be dangerous to approach, not that she was frightened of doing so anyway. Her appearance invariably disarmed people.

She loved putting herself together in a fun outfit. The Sunday Markets at Port Douglas were always great for crafty stuff. The wooden bead necklaces and bangles she’d bought yesterday, along with the tan leather belt, and sandals that strapped in criss-crosses up her lower legs, looked fabulous with the white broderie anglaise miniskirt and peasant blouse she was wearing today. Her long blond hair was piled up on top of her head to show off the cute dangly wooden earrings, as well. She didn’t look like officialdom and that was half the battle in getting people to confide in her.

The elderly man caught sight of her walking towards him, and stopped digging, leaning on the long handle of his shovel as he watched her approach, looking her up and down as most men did, regardless of age. She could now see two large plastic bags of potting soil lying on the ground beside him, and behind them was the top of a rose bush.

‘Well, you’re a pretty sight for sore eyes, girlie,’ he greeted her, his mouth slowly curving into a wistful little smile. ‘Visiting a loved one?’

‘Yes, I always visit my mother when I come out here,’ Lucy said with her own wistful smile. The man’s face was so lined and dotted with age spots she guessed he was about eighty, but his body had a spry wiriness that undoubtedly came from keeping himself active.

‘Your mother, eh? Must have died young,’ he remarked.

Lucy nodded. ‘She was only thirty-eight.’ Ten years older than Lucy was now—a fact that lay constantly in the back of her mind, urging her to pack as much into her life as she could.

‘What took her?’ the man asked sympathetically.

‘Cancer.’

‘Ah, that’s a hard death.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘Guess I should be grateful my wife went quickly. Heart gave out. Coming up seventy-five she was. Almost made it to our diamond wedding anniversary.’

‘You must have had a happy marriage,’ Lucy commented, wondering if it was really true. She had observed that some couples stayed together because they didn’t want to face the turmoil of breaking up.

‘My Gracie was a wonderful woman.’ There was love and longing in his voice. ‘Wouldn’t have swapped her for anyone. She was the best, the only one for me. I miss her so much… .’ Tears welled into his eyes.

‘I’m sorry,’ Lucy said softly, waiting until he’d recovered his composure before asking, ‘Are you planting that rose for her?’

‘Yes,’ he answered huskily. ‘Gracie loved roses. Especially this one—Pal Joey—because it has such a beautiful scent. Not like those hothouse roses they sell in shops. Here…’ he bent down and picked up the bagged rose bush, pointing out the one yellow rose in full bloom ‘…come and smell it.’

She did. The scent was stunningly strong and beautiful. ‘Oh, that’s lovely!’

‘I brought it from our garden. I couldn’t let my Gracie lie here without some part of our garden, and this was her favourite rose.’

‘Well, Mr…?’ Lucy raised her eyebrows quizzically, needing his name.

‘Robson. Ian Robson.’

‘Lucy Flippence,’ she responded. ‘I have to tell you I’m from cemetery administration, Mr Robson. Someone reported you digging at a grave and I was sent out to investigate, but I can see there’s no harm being done.’

He frowned over any possible interference to his plan. ‘Only want to plant the rose.’

‘I know,’ Lucy soothed. ‘What you’re doing is fine with me. You’ll tidy up afterwards, won’t you? Leave your wife’s grave looking much nicer than it was before, take the empty bags away?’

‘Don’t you worry, Miss Flippence. I’ll not only do that, but you can count on me tending to this rose bush, feeding it and pruning it so it will bloom beautifully for my Gracie.’

Lucy gave him a warm smile. ‘I’m sure you will, Mr Robson. It’s been a pleasure meeting you. I’ll go visit my mother now.’

‘God bless,’ he said in parting.

‘You, too.’

As she walked on Lucy had no doubt that Ian Robson had been a prince to his Gracie. That kind of devotion could only come out of a true love which lasted a lifetime. However rare that was, it was comforting to know it did happen—could happen for her if she was super, super lucky.

She stopped at her mother’s grave, sighing heavily at what Ellie had insisted be printed on the headstone:

Veronica Anne Flippence

Beloved Mother of Elizabeth and Lucy

No ‘Beloved Wife of George,’ because that would have been a huge lie. As soon as their mother had been diagnosed with terminal cancer their father had deserted them. Not that he would have been any help during those long months of suffering. Every time he’d come home on leave from his mining job in Mount Isa he’d ended up getting drunk and abusive. Better that he had left his daughters to look after their mother, but the desertion certainly demonstrated there was not even common decency in his character—a frog of the worst order.

Ellie had found out he’d had another woman in Mount Isa and was leading a double life—a cheat on top of everything else. Lucy was glad he had dropped out of their lives. She still hated him for not giving her mother the love she had deserved. There’d been no roses in their marriage—none that Lucy could remember.

‘It’s Ellie’s birthday today, Mum,’ she said out loud. ‘I’m sure you know that. I bought her a gorgeous butterfly blouse and a lovely green skirt to go with it. She’s fallen into a dowdy rut and I want to break her out of it. You said for us to always look out for each other, and Ellie does more than her fair share of that, helping me over hurdles I can’t leap like everyone else because of my dyslexia. I’m trying to help her to meet a prince. Guys notice colourful people. She has to give herself a chance, don’t you think?’

Lucy smiled at what Ellie had told her over the phone this morning—that her long brown hair was cut and dyed auburn. That was a step in the right direction. If her sister would just lighten up a bit, have some fun, show she was enjoying herself…Guys liked that. In fact, they gravitated towards women who emitted a joy in life.

‘If you can perform a miracle, Mum, it would be fantastic if two princes showed up for Ellie and me today. Okay? That would be a birthday to remember.’ Lucy heaved another big sigh at the improbability of this happening. ‘In the meantime, I’ve got to go and collect some angels’ heads so they don’t get damaged any more than they are already. Bye now.’

When she reached the memorial garden, she stood aghast at the number of headless angels. The dog must have been a huge German shepherd or Great Dane. It sure had run amok here. She picked up one head, realised how heavy it was, lay it back down and went to bring the van closer to the garden. It took her an hour to load them all up for transport to the stonemason.

Checking the time, she decided that job could wait until after lunch. If she didn’t get to Ellie’s office before twelve o’clock, her sister might go off somewhere by herself. Lucy could call her, but surprising her was better. What was a birthday without a nice surprise?

Finding a parking space close to the Finn Franchises building was impossible. Lucy ended up two blocks away from the Esplanade, where it was located. She half ran the distance and managed to arrive at Ellie’s office just a few minutes after noon. Having paused long enough to catch her breath, she knocked on the door and opened it enough to poke her head around it to check if the room was occupied. Ellie—a brand-new Ellie—sat at a desk.

It put a wide grin on Lucy’s face as she asked, ‘Okay to come in?’

‘Yes.’

Given the affirmative, she literally bounced in, twirling to shut the door behind her, then dancing over to the desk in an ecstasy of delight over the dramatic change in her sister’s appearance. ‘Ooh…I love the hair, Ellie,’ she happily enthused, hitching herself onto the edge of the desk for a close look at the new style. ‘It’s very sexy. Gives you that just-out-of-bed tumbled look and the colour really, really suits you. It complements the clothes I picked out for you brilliantly. I have to say you look absolutely marvellous. Now tell me you feel marvellous, too.’

The slightly uncertain expression on her sister’s face cracked into a smile. ‘I’m glad I made the change.’ Then, typically Ellie, she turned attention away from herself. ‘How was your weekend?’

‘Oh, so-so.’ Lucy waved her hand airily, then pulled a woeful grimace. ‘But I’ve had the most terrible morning.’

She didn’t want to relate the frog in the Irish pub episode. No negatives about men today, with Ellie looking so beautiful. Lucy rattled on about the rose planting at the grave and the dog damage in the memorial garden, describing the scene and what she had to do about it, how heavy the angels’ heads were… .

It was a really good story, yet Ellie was clearly distracted from it, her gaze sliding away, fixing on some point at the other end of the room.

‘Angels’ heads…’ a male voice said in a rich tone of incredulous wonder.

It sent a weird quiver down Lucy’s spine. She didn’t know if sound vibrations could squeeze her heart, but something did. She whipped her head around, feeling an instant urge to check out the owner of that voice.

And there he was—tall, dark and handsome, the perfect image of a storybook prince!

CHAPTER TWO

EVERYTHING IN MICHAEL Finn’s mind was blown away by the vision of stunning femininity perched on the edge of Elizabeth’s desk. The legs hit him first—long, beautiful legs, glowing with a golden tan, their shapely calves accentuated by straps running up from her sandals. A white frilly skirt ended at midthigh. A white peasant blouse hung off one perfectly rounded shoulder. A mass of shiny blond hair was piled loosely on top of her head, some curly strands of it escaping whatever pins she’d used.

Her face was turned towards Elizabeth, but there was certainly nothing jarring about its profile, and a fascinating dimple kept flashing in her cheek as she talked, her voice lilting with animation. Arty earrings swayed against her lovely long neck, bangles jingled on her arms as her hands waved around in graceful gestures, and the story she was telling was as mesmerising as the rest of her.

‘Angels’ heads…?’

The words spilled from his mouth, escaping from the bubble of incredulity bouncing around his brain. He could hardly believe the heart-grabbing impact she was having on him, and her mention of angels added to the sense of an out-of-this-world encounter.

He was used to sizing women up before deciding if he was willing to put the time into having an ongoing relationship with them. He never rushed into a decision because it was so tedious breaking off the connection when he found it didn’t suit him. But the rush he was feeling with this woman in his sights triggered a wildly rampant compulsion to forge a connection with her right now before she could disappear on him.

Her head turned towards him. Surprise lit her lovely face, her eyes widening as she stared at him—big brown eyes with amber sparkles in them. Shiny coral lipstick highlighted her lush, sexy mouth as it dropped open to emit a breathy, ‘Wow!’

It echoed the wow zinging around Michael’s mind, and he felt himself stirring as her gaze flicked over him, uninhibitedly checking out his physique. Her open interest in him was like an electric charge. He had an erection in no time flat—which had never happened to him at a first meeting with any woman, not even when he was a randy teenager. At thirty-five, this was a totally new experience and a slightly discomforting one. He prided himself on always being in control.

‘Are you Ellie’s boss?’ she asked, her head tilting as though her mind was racing through possibilities between them.

Ellie…? It took him several moments to wrench his thoughts away from the rage of desire burning through his bloodstream, and connect the name to Elizabeth. ‘Yes. Yes, I am,’ he finally managed to answer. ‘And you are?’

‘Lucy Flippence. Ellie’s sister. I work in cemetery administration, so I often have to deal with angels,’ she said, as though needing to explain to him that she wasn’t off the planet, but an ordinary human being with a proper job to do.

‘I see,’ he said, thinking she wasn’t the least bit ordinary.

She hopped off her perch on the desk and crossed the floor to him with her hand extended. Curvy hips swayed. Perky breasts poked out at him. She was tall, slim and so exquisitely female that all his male hormones were buzzing.

‘Pleased to meet you.’ Her smile was entrancing. ‘Okay if I call you Michael?’

‘Delighted.’ He took her hand and held on to it, the soft warmth of it making his skin tingle with excitement at this first physical contact.

He suddenly registered movement at his side, reminding him he’d just come out of a serious business meeting with his brother. Harry was stepping up, expecting an introduction. Was he feeling the same impact, wanting Lucy’s attention turned to him, centred on him? Michael fiercely hoped not. He didn’t want to fight his brother over a woman, but he would with this one. A highly primitive sense of possession was swirling through his gut.

His eyes telegraphed hard warning-off signals at Harry as he turned to make the introduction. This was no-go territory. Don’t make a contest of it. They had always respected each other’s interest in their targeted women, but Lucy had to be a magnet for any man. Even as he said, ‘This is my brother, Harry,’ Michael willed him to accept he had first claim.

His heart swelled with satisfaction when Lucy left her hand in his grasp and simply raised her other hand in a blithe greeting, tossing a ‘Hi, Harry!’ at his brother in a kind of bubbly dismissal.

‘Charmed,’ Harry purred at her.

The flirtatious tone didn’t raise so much as a flicker of response. Her gaze instantly connected to Michael’s again, the warm brown eyes appealing for understanding and, to his mind, much more than that to come from him. He felt her reaching out, wondering, wanting… .

‘I don’t know if you know, but it’s Ellie’s birthday today,’ she said, ‘and I thought I’d treat her to a really nice lunch somewhere. You won’t mind if I take her off and she’s a bit late back, will you, Michael?’

Lunch…yes, he thought exultantly. He couldn’t wait to have more of this enchanting woman.

‘Actually, I’d decided to do the same myself,’ he quickly informed her. ‘Lunch at the Mariners Bar.’

‘Oh, wow! The Mariners Bar!’ Her eyes sparkled with golden lights. ‘What a lovely boss you are to take Ellie there!’

‘Why don’t you join us? It will be a better celebration of her birthday if you do.’

‘I’ll come, as well. Make a party of it,’ Harry put in, instantly supporting the idea.

Four was better than three, Michael decided. Harry had to know now that Lucy wasn’t interested in him, and he could entertain Elizabeth, which took the onus of doing that off him.

‘I only booked a table for two,’ his PA inserted, pulling them back to arrangements already made.

‘No problem. I’m sure the maître d’ will make room for us,’ he stated, oozing confidence as he smiled at Lucy. ‘We’d be delighted to have the pleasure of your company.’

Her smile of delight was turned to her sister. ‘Well, a foursome should be more fun, don’t you think, Ellie?’

There was a touch of irony in Elizabeth’s reply. ‘Certainly no awkward silences with you, Lucy.’

She laughed, seeming to sprinkle sunshine at everyone as she happily declared, ‘That’s settled then. Thank you for asking me, Michael. And it’s good of you to join in the party, too, Harry.’

Michael wasn’t interested in having a party.

What Harry called his tunnel vision—usually applied only to his work on the franchises—had kicked in with a vengeance on Lucy Flippence. He saw no one but her. His entire focus, physical and mental, was on her. He wanted her completely to himself.

It didn’t occur to him that it might not be a good idea to bed his PA’s sister.

All he could think of was how to get her there as fast as he could.

CHAPTER THREE

LUCY COULDN’T BELIEVE her luck. The prince liked her, wanted to be with her. And what a prince he was, not only drop-dead gorgeous, but a billionaire to boot! Ellie had said enough about the Finn Franchises for her to know this guy was seriously wealthy, but had never mentioned he was also seriously sexy.

Which gave Lucy pause for thought as they made their way out of the building and across the Esplanade to the boardwalk that ran along the water’s edge of the park leading to the marina. Was there something wrong with Michael Finn, something that had put Ellie off being attracted to him? Was he a terribly demanding boss? Lucy wasn’t keen on demanding men. If he had struck himself off Ellie’s possibility list, Lucy needed to know why before jumping in the deep end with Michael Finn.

Though it was a beautiful day and her heart was singing. There was no reason not to enjoy this exciting attraction while it was still lovely and shiny. As soon as they paired off on the boardwalk, the two of them in front, Ellie and Harry behind, Michael gave Lucy a smile that tingled right down to her toes.

‘Tell me about yourself, Lucy,’ he invited. ‘How did you come to be in cemetery administration? You look as though you should be a model.’

He had silver-grey eyes—very distinctive, like the rest of him—and she was thrilled that he was interested in her, if only for a little while. Words bubbled out in an effervescent stream. She told him about her experience of modelling—its advantages and disadvantages—then tour guide jobs she’d had, and he laughed at the amusing stories about people who’d made guiding both difficult and hilarious at times. Moving on to her stint in the dance studio, she was prompted to ask, ‘Do you dance, Michael? I mean, do you like dancing?’