down her throat. The faster she got out of here, the better.
‘Ready?’ Harry asked the moment she put her spoon down.
‘Ready,’ she answered emphatically, grabbing her handbag and rising to her feet, wanting to run but knowing she had to discipline herself to suffer goodbyes.
Lucy wrapped her in a big hug, mischievously saying, ‘Have a lovely time with Harry, Ellie.’
‘I will,’ she replied through gritted teeth. Denials of that idea would not only be a total waste of time, but also prolong this whole wretched togetherness.
Michael kissed her cheek, wryly murmuring, ‘I’ll miss you.’
I won’t miss you, Elizabeth thought fiercely, barely managing to force a smile. ‘Thank you for my birthday lunch, Michael.’
‘Pleasure,’ he replied, his gaze sliding to Lucy.
‘We’re off,’ Harry said, seizing Elizabeth’s hand and pulling her with him.
His hand was strong and hot, wrapping firmly around her fingers, shooting warmth up her arm, but she didn’t care if heat travelled to her brain and fried it right now. He was acting fast, taking her to the freedom she needed, and she was grateful for that. Once they were outside, he led her straight to the long wharf where rows of million-dollar yachts were docked on either side.
‘Where’s your boat?’ she asked.
‘Right at the end. No shuffling around. A quick, easy getaway. Full throttle to the island.’
‘Good!’
He slid her one of his devilish grins. ‘I must say I admire your decisiveness.’
She gave him a baleful look. ‘Save your chatting up for some other woman, Harry. I played your game in front of Michael and Lucy because it suited me to do it, and I accepted your job offer because that suited me, too. As far as I’m concerned, there’s work to be done and I’ll do it. I don’t expect to have a lovely time with you.’
His eyes held hers with a blast of discomforting intensity. ‘No, not right now,’ he drawled. ‘Having had your expectations comprehensively dashed, I daresay you’ll be a sourpuss for some time to come. But the island is a lovely place and I hope it will work some magic on you.’
A sourpuss …
The shock of that description halted her feet. She stared back at the blazing blue eyes, hating the knowledge she saw in them, knowledge of her hopes and the humiliation of seeing Michael respond to her sister as he had never—would never—respond to her. She couldn’t wipe away Harry’s perception of the situation, couldn’t deny the truth, but was that any reason to be sour on him? He’d been her saviour today.
‘I’m sorry,’ she blurted out. ‘I haven’t thanked you.’
His sexy mouth moved into an ironic tilt. ‘No thanks necessary, Elizabeth.’
His voice was soft, deep, and somehow it made her heart turn over.
She shook her head. ‘That’s not true, Harry. You were very effective in covering up my … my difficulties with how things went down today. I am grateful to you for rescuing me every time I hit a brick wall.’
‘You’ll bounce back, Elizabeth. Look on tomorrow as the first day of a new life—a butterfly breaking free of its confining cocoon and finding a world of sunshine. Come on—’ he started walking down the wharf again, tugging her along with him ‘—we’re on our way there now.’
The first day of a new life …
Of course, 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
