bra and jeans—he’d considered whether he would sleep with her. Seduce her. It would be easy, really, all too revoltingly simple, as his brief taste on the plane journey had already proved. A few whispered words, a little caress, and she’d fallen into his hands like softened clay, ready to be shaped to his own desire. His own purpose. He usually liked a bit more of a challenge.
Still…seduction had its uses. A Lizzie who believed herself in love might be more pliable than one who was simply going along because she’d been coerced.
On the other hand, a Lizzie who felt she’d been ruthlessly seduced could be dangerous. Unpredictable.
He’d have to be cautious. Lizzie Chandler needed careful handling.
He gazed out of the window, the stretch of inky sky merely a canvas for the resort he was going to design. The commission he would seize.
The people he would prove wrong.
Lizzie had asked him why this particular commission was so important to him; Cormac hadn’t realised just how much it mattered until the question had been voiced aloud.
No one would tell him what he could or couldn’t do. No one would tell him he wasn’t good enough, worthy enough for anything.
Not any more.
He was in charge, in control of his own destiny—and of hers.
He had Lizzie Chandler in the palm of his hand and that was exactly where he wanted her.
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