His Most Exquisite Conquest. Emma Darcy
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That made no difference if, deep down, Ellie couldn’t abide the man. Lucy needed to have a private word with her, suss out the situation to her satisfaction. Impossible right here. They had walked past the park with the children’s playgrounds, and were level with the swimming lagoon. Another ten minutes’ stroll would bring them to the Mariners Bar, Hopefully, she would get the chance to be alone with Ellie in the cocktail lounge before they went into the dining-room.
In the meantime there was no point in not making the most of Michael’s company.
‘We’d got up to dancing,’ he reminded her with a grin, the grey eyes lit with amused curiosity. ‘Modelling, tour guiding, dancing—how did this lead to cemetery administration?’
‘Oh, there’s a lot of stuff in between,’ she said airily. ‘I was doing a beautician course while the dancing was paying off. That led to jobs in a department store and two of the holiday resorts up here.’ She slanted him a twinkling look. ‘I do a great foot massage and pedicure if you ever need one.’
He laughed. ‘A woman of many talents.’
She loved the sound of his laugh. It echoed in her ears and seemed to ripple down to her heart, where it tripped her pulse into racing overtime.
What was she going to do if his brother was a frog? Please don’t let him be, she silently begged. It would ruin this highly promising lunch.
Michael kept asking her questions, seemingly intrigued by her, which was a lovely feeling. Most guys wanted to talk about themselves. He gave her the sense that he’d never met anyone like her before and he couldn’t get enough of her, not right now, anyway. Whether that would last…Well, nothing usually did, not on this kind of high, but Lucy couldn’t help revelling in it.
Of course, he wouldn’t be intrigued by her at all if he knew the truth—that she didn’t just flit from one job to another because she was attracted to something new and different. More times than not she ran into an unavoidable snag because of her dyslexia, and she was either let go or moved on before she had to suffer the humiliation of being found wanting again. Her disability was a curse she had to live with, but she was determined to enjoy the good times in between being stumped by it and having to pick herself up and try something else.
Right now the promise of having a very good time with Michael Finn was thrilling her to bits, though she still had to check with Ellie that what was happening was okay with her. She wanted her sister to have a happy birthday. Men came and went in Lucy’s life. Ellie was the only person she could count on to always be there for her.
They’d passed the yacht club and were on the path to the cocktail bar adjoining the restaurant when Harry called out to them. ‘Hey, Mickey! I’ll buy the girls cocktails while you see the maître d’ about our table.’
Mickey? Mickey Finn. Lucy rolled her eyes. That was such boy stuff! Maybe Harry was simply an overgrown boy, irritating Ellie with his silly immaturity.
‘Okay.’ Michael tossed back the response, apparently accustomed to being called Mickey by his brother, and not minding it.
Whatever…The arrangement between them would give her some time alone with Ellie in the cocktail bar—time enough to check if the current scenario sucked for her sister.
Michael left them at the bar, striding swiftly into the restaurant to speak to the maître d’. Harry led them to a set of two-seater lounges with a low table in between, and saw them settled facing each other.
‘Now let me select cocktails for you both,’ he said, the vivid blue eyes twinkling confidence in his choices. ‘A margarita for you, Elizabeth.’
It surprised her. ‘Why that one?’
He grinned. ‘Because you’re the salt of the earth and I revere you for it.’
She rolled her eyes at his linking her character to the salt-encrusted rim of the glass that was always used for a margarita cocktail.
Though it was clever, Lucy thought, openly conceding, ‘You’re right on both counts. Ellie loves margaritas and she is the salt of the earth. I don’t know what I’d do without her. She’s always been my anchor.’
‘An anchor,’ Harry repeated musingly. ‘I think that’s what’s been missing from my life.’
‘An anchor would only weigh you down, Harry,’ Ellie put in drily. ‘It would feel like an albatross around your neck.’
‘Some chains I wouldn’t mind wearing.’
‘Try gold.’
He laughed.
This quick banter between them gave Lucy pause for speculation. ‘Do you two always spar like this?’ she asked.
‘Sparks invariably fly,’ Harry claimed.
Ellie gave him an arch look. ‘I would have to admit that being with Harry is somewhat invigorating.’
Lucy laughed and clapped her hands. They were playing a game, scoring points off each other. It wasn’t bad at all. ‘Oh, I love it! What a great lunch we’ll all have together!’ She cocked her head at the man who was certainly ruffling Ellie’s feathers, but quite possibly in a way her sister found exciting under her surface pretence of indifference. ‘What cocktail will you choose for me?’
‘For the sunshine girl…a pina colada.’
She clapped her hands again. ‘Well done, Harry. That’s my favourite.’
‘At your service.’ He twirled his hand in a salute to them both and headed off to the bar.
A charmer, Michael had said, and Lucy could now see how it was. Ellie was attracted to Harry but she didn’t trust his charm, maybe thinking he was a bit too slick with it. She should just ride with it, enjoy it, let her hair down and not care where it led.
Lucy leaned forward to press this advice on her sister. ‘He’s just what you need, Ellie. Loads of fun. You’ve been carrying responsibility for so long, it’s well past time you let loose and had a wild flutter for once. Be a butterfly instead of a worker bee.’
An ironic little smile tilted Ellie’s mouth as she drawled, ‘I might just do that.’
‘Go for it,’ Lucy urged, excited by the possibility that both the brothers could be princes. ‘I’m going for Michael. He’s an absolute dreamboat. I’m so glad I wasn’t held up any longer at the cemetery. I might have missed out on meeting him. Why didn’t you tell me your boss was gorgeous?’
‘I’ve always thought him a bit cold.’
Lucy threw up her hands at her sister’s lack of discernment. ‘Believe me. The guy is hot! He makes me sizzle.’
Ellie shrugged. ‘I guess it’s a matter of chemistry. Harry is the hot one for me.’
Chemistry…yes! That explained everything. There was nothing wrong with Michael. Quite simply, there was no chemistry between him and Ellie, and no one could make that happen. It either did or it didn’t.