realised that even in this secluded cove there were people nearby. So did Lizzie, by the way her body stiffened and her eyes widened.
They stared at each other for a moment, Lizzie wide-eyed and searching, before the moment was broken, the wonderment lost.
Cormac rolled off her, his back on the hard sand, breathing heavily.
Lizzie was fumbling with her bikini strings, trying to make herself decent.
Around a tumble of rocks, two figures emerged. From a distance, Cormac saw it was Wendy and Dan.
Dammit.
‘Hey, you two!’ Wendy called out cheerfully. She glanced at their appearances, still rumpled, both of them stretched out on the sand, and blushed. ‘Did we interrupt some private time?’
‘Wendy,’ Dan admonished. He grinned. ‘They’re newly-weds, remember?’
‘Oh, of course. This could practically count as your honeymoon!’
Cormac chuckled dryly, ran his fingers through his sandy hair and smiled. ‘We’re planning a honeymoon eventually,’ he said, ‘but in the meantime, this will do.’
He glanced at Lizzie, saw her face was white and blank, and mentally cursed. The seduction he’d so carefully planned was shot to pieces. Now he had no idea how she might react.
‘How do you feel the weekend’s going, Cormac?’ Dan asked. ‘From what I can tell, Hassell has his eye mostly on you.’
‘It’s anyone’s game still,’ Cormac replied neutrally. He wanted them gone, wanted to take Lizzie back into his arms and make her believe in him again.
He wanted to repair the damage.
‘Let the best man win, right?’ Dan said with a wry smile. ‘The best architect.’
‘Exactly,’ Cormac agreed with a small smile.
Dan glanced at Lizzie, who hadn’t spoken yet. She was still sitting there, one hand fiddling with her bikini string, her eyes wide and dark.
‘You look like you’ve had a bit too much sun, Elizabeth,’ he ventured. ‘Are you two heading back? I convinced Wendy to try snorkeling—I think we’ll swim back to the beach. Everyone will be returning to the villa soon.’
Cormac paused. There was no point picking up where they’d left off—Lizzie was too shocked. Too embarrassed. He’d have to wait till tonight, in their room. More comfortable anyway, he decided as he brushed some sand from his shoulders. Then there would be no interruptions, nothing to keep them from each other.
Nothing to keep him from gaining her trust, her love, and enjoying it. Using it.
‘Yes, we’ll go back with you,’ he said.
Nodding, Dan and Wendy waded into the shallows. Cormac turned to Lizzie.
‘Come on, sweetheart,’ he said, keeping his voice gentle. ‘You do look like you’ve had too much sun.’
She gave him an odd look. ‘You think so?’ He held out his hand to help her up and she shrugged it aside. ‘I’ll stay here.’
Cormac bit back his impatience. ‘You heard Dan. Everyone’s getting ready to go back to the villa.’
She looked at him, a new coldness in her eyes. ‘I’ll walk.’
‘Lizzie…’ he warned, and she shook her head.
‘No, Cormac, don’t. Don’t control me. Not now.’ She stood up, brushed the sand from her legs. ‘I’ll see you back at the beach.’
Without waiting for his response, she headed down the stretch of empty sand, her pace resolute, her shoulders thrown back.
Cormac cursed aloud. He should follow her, he supposed, make sure she didn’t do something stupid like get lost or burst into tears.
Still, he didn’t want to create a scene. He had no idea how she would react now, what she might do because she was hurt, furious or just plain frustrated.
This could, he realised savagely, cost him the commission.
But he was still going to seduce her. Tonight.
The sun was low in the sky, casting a golden sheen on the calm surface of the sea, when Lizzie finally found her way back to the makeshift camp. She hadn’t realised how jagged the coastline was; walking had taken far longer than swimming would have.
She’d kept her mind blank, filled with the white noise around her, the soothing rush of waves on to sand, the call of seabirds, the rustling of the palm trees that fringed the beach.
It was easier to concentrate on those sounds than the memories which jangled and clamoured within her, desperate to be heard.
The memory of Cormac’s lips on hers, his hands on her…
No. Her hands went up to her face and, despite her best intentions, the memories came anyway, rushed over her in an endless tide of regret and wonder.
She couldn’t believe…
No.
Cormac. With Cormac.
She’d expected to feel desire, lust. But she’d felt tenderness, emotion, need.
And he hadn’t felt anything.
Why couldn’t it be uncomplicated? Why couldn’t she be uncomplicated?
Why couldn’t she give Cormac her body while keeping her heart?
She knew there was no feeling on his side. No matter how much she hoped or wondered. If he felt anything for her, it was casual, careless affection. Fleeting and fuelled by lust.
That was all it was.
Could it be enough? For her?
Was she willing to accept so little, simply because it was more than she’d ever had?
Lizzie shook her head. No. She wanted more, wanted what she’d told Cormac. Love. Respect. Marriage, even.
Nothing he was prepared to give her. Nothing she should want from him.
And yet…
She wanted him.
She didn’t trust him. And she didn’t trust herself.
Yet the want, the need, the hunger was still there, even as she knew that an affair with Cormac would lead only to more hunger, more need that could not be satisfied. Not by Cormac.
He wasn’t interested in loving her. He didn’t even respect her. And marriage was out of the question.
So where did that leave her? Nowhere, Lizzie realised with a grim smile, except exactly where Cormac wanted her…in the palm of his hand. Literally.
Cormac saw her as she approached the camp, and there was a look of thunderous fury on his face as he strode towards her, grabbing her by the shoulders and giving her a little shake before he kissed her hard on the mouth.
‘Where were you? We’ve all been half mad with worry, thinking you were lost or dead—’
‘I told you I would walk,’ Lizzie said stiffly, her mouth bruised from his kiss. ‘I didn’t think you’d care.’
‘I didn’t think it would take you so long,’ he retorted. ‘I had visions of you trying to swim back, being caught in the undertow.’ He sounded both accusing and anguished, and over his shoulder Lizzie saw Hilda smiling in concern, Jan looking worried.
Of course. This was part of Cormac’s charade. He’d given her her cue, and was undoubtedly waiting for her response.
‘I’m sorry, darling,’ she said, and he relaxed a bit. ‘I didn’t realise you’d worry so much.’ Or at all. ‘Forgive me?’
‘You’ll just have to