that was how it had to be.
There was no point in looking back, mourning over foolish dreams that were never going to come true. She had to put Michael behind her. Lucy would still be there along the track, her episode with Michael gone and forgotten, flitting along in her usual ditzy way. Her sister would always be her sister. It was she who had to start a different journey and being sour about it was just going to hold her back from getting somewhere good.
Harry helped her onto a large, deep-sea fishing yacht, which undoubtedly had powerful motors to get them to their destination fast. ‘Do you get seasick, Elizabeth?’ he asked as he released the mooring rope. ‘There are pills in the cabin you can take for it.’
‘No, I’ll be fine,’ she assured him.
‘I need you to be in top form when we arrive.’
‘What do you consider top form?’ She needed to know, get it right.
He jumped on board, grinning at her as he stored the rope correctly. ‘Your usual self. Totally in charge of everything around you and projecting that haughty confidence you do so well.’
‘Haughty?’ she queried, not liking that description of herself, either.
‘You’re brilliant at it. Subject me to it every time.’
Only because Harry was Harry. It was her defence against him.
‘I want you to give our target a dose of it when we confront him. No chatter. Just freeze him off.’
‘No problem,’ she stated categorically.
He straightened up and headed for the ladder to the bridge, tapping her cheek in passing, his eyes twinkling as he said, ‘That’s my girl!’
She barely stopped her hand from clapping her cheek to rid it of his electric touch. She clenched it into a fist and swiftly decided there would have to be some rules made about this short-term job on the island—like no touching from Harry. No kissing on the cheek, either. He was altogether too cavalier about taking liberties with her.
She was his stand-in manager, not his girl!
She was never going to be his girl.
One Finn brother had taken a bite out of her life. She was not about to give Harry the chance to take another. A month was a month. That was it with the Finns. She was thirty years old. When she’d completed this escape phase, some serious steps would have to be planned to make the best of the rest of her life.
She needed to find herself a serious man to share all that could be shared.
There was no hope of that happening with a playboy like Harry.
‘Think you can make us both a sobering coffee while I fire up the engines?’ he tossed back at her from the ladder.
‘Sure! Though I’m not the least bit intoxicated, Harry.’ She’d sobered up over lunch.
He grinned at her. ‘I am. A straight black would be good. Join me on the bridge when you’ve made it.’
‘Okay.’
She wanted to be fully briefed on the situation she was walking into, and Harry certainly needed to be fully in command of himself before they reached the island. Not that she’d noticed any lack of command. In fact, he’d been quite masterful in manipulating Michael into complying with what he wanted. She would have to watch that particular skill of his and not fall victim to any manipulation that would end up with her in the playboy’s bed!
EXHILARATION bubbled through Harry’s brain. Who would have thought when today had started out that he would be riding towards the end of it on this glorious high? Here he was on the open sea, carving through the waves, the problem with his thieving manager solved, and the deliciously challenging Elizabeth at his beck and call for at least a month.
Her brick wall against him was still in place, but that blind obsession of hers with Mickey was gone. Lovely, lovely Lucy had done the job, blitzing his brother right in front of her sister’s eyes. And at the most opportune moment! So easy to step in and take advantage of Elizabeth’s disillusioned state.
She’d found herself trapped in a situation where pride had forced her to side with him, undoubtedly kicking and screaming about it in her mind, but totally unable to disguise the fact that she reacted to him physically. Always had. She could deny it as much as she liked but sexual chemistry didn’t lie, and now that Mickey was out of the picture, cultivating the instinctive attraction she couldn’t quite control was going to be the most enjoyable task Harry had set himself for some time.
Ellie Flippence...
That’s who she needed to be, not stiff-necked Elizabeth. Though she did have a lovely long neck. He’d often fantasised bending that swanlike column with a trail of hot kisses, melting the rest of her, too. She had beautiful lush breasts and the gorgeous butterfly wings on her blouse showed them off a treat.
This morning he’d wanted to reach out and touch them, cup them, kiss them. He’d find the right time and place for that now. The moment would come when she’d give in to good old healthy lust, and Harry intended to make it so good she’d forget all about her shattered Mickey dreams and revel in the pleasure he’d give her.
But business came first.
He definitely needed to sober up, not give away the game before Elizabeth was ready for it.
* * *
Just as well she’d worn sandals, Elizabeth thought as she moved around the galley, steadying herself to the sway of the yacht as it headed out to sea. High heels would have been disastrous in this environment. Clearly there were tricks to keeping everything safe on board. She found a drink holder attached to a sling which made transporting coffee to the bridge relatively easy, and mugs with lids like the takeaway variety used by coffee shops. There was no risk of slopping it onto her good clothes which had to last her until her luggage arrived.
A scene flashed into her mind of Lucy in their apartment, with Michael advising her on what to choose for her sister’s island wear—an intimate little scene that made Elizabeth gnash her teeth. She had to stop thinking of them together, think about what was ahead of her instead.
Finn Island was at the high end of the tourist industry—exclusive to only twenty couples at a time, people who could pay thousands of dollars for a minimum three-day stay. She had never been there, since it was way beyond her pocket. However, the Cairns office did have a video of it, showing its attractions and facilities, so she had some idea of how it operated.
There were twenty luxury villas, a tennis court, a gym with a pampering centre offering all sorts of massages. The administration centre, boutique, restaurant and bar faced the main beach and were spread around a landscaped area with lush tropical plants and clusters of palm trees, plus a swimming pool and spa. Apart from this artfully designed section, most of the island was covered with rainforest. A creek running from the central hill provided delightful waterfalls and rock pools, and walking tracks had been made to these natural beauty spots.
Dive-boats for exploring the Great Barrier Reef were readily available, as were yachts for deep-sea fishing and small motorboats for reaching the other beaches at the various inlets around the shoreline. All in all, Finn Island provided the perfect tropical getaway...if you were rolling in money.
Guests who could afford it would obviously be demanding, expecting the best for what they were paying. Elizabeth hoped there would be no hiccups to the island’s excellent reputation for providing it while she was in charge. She knew supply boats called regularly. However, how the staff operated was a mystery to her and the need for that information was foremost in her mind as she climbed the ladder to the bridge.
She sat down in the chair beside Harry’s before handing him his coffee. ‘Black, as requested,’ she said, forcing a smile to disprove his sourpuss description and holding on to a fierce determination not to be prickly in