Then the intimate body contact was shifted. Her legs were hoisted up and she was being carried with heart-pounding speed, cool air wafting over her hot face, reducing the fever of urgently demanding desire.
She was tumbled onto a bed and Harry—Harry!—was leaping onto it to join her there. Her eyes were wide-open now. Her mind crashed into working gear. This was one of the day beds on the deck. She’d wanted the sex that Harry was intent on having with her. Her body was still quivering at a peak of need for it. But it was madness to go on with it—madness to muddy up what should be a clean break away from everything, starting what would inevitably be a messy affair going nowhere and interfering with carrying through this management job.
He flung one strongly muscled thigh over hers and started lifting her T-shirt as he lowered his head to start kissing her again. She’d lain inert with shock at finding herself so complicit in stirring this situation. It had to be stopped. Now! Already his hand was on her breast, fingers moving under the cup of her bra, tweaking her nipple, and for a moment she was paralysed by a rebellious wish to feel more of his touch. She stared at his mouth coming closer and closer, her mind screaming that another kiss would tip her over into Harry’s world.
Did she want that?
Did she?
Losing control of everything?
A flash of fear whipped her hand up to Harry’s mouth, covering it just before it made contact with hers. His eyebrows beetled down in a puzzled frown.
‘Stop!’ she croaked.
He jerked his head back from her halting hand, his frown deepening as he shot a disbelieving ‘What?’ at her.
She swallowed hard to give her voice more strength. ‘I don’t want you to take this any further, Harry.’
‘Why not?’ he demanded. ‘You want it as much as I do.’
She wrenched his hand away from her breast and pulled the T-shirt down. ‘A momentary madness,’ she excused.
‘Rubbish! It’s been simmering between us for years,’ he insisted vehemently. ‘It just came to a head and it’s damned dishonest of you to back off now.’
Anger stirred. She hadn’t really consented to this. He’d started it when she was at her weakest, taking advantage of her vulnerable state. ‘I don’t care what you call it, I don’t choose to go on with it,’ she said fiercely and attempted to roll away from him.
He scooped her back to face him, his eyes blazing furious frustration. ‘What is the matter with you? We want each other. It’s only natural to...’
‘Let me go, Harry. This isn’t right for me.’
‘Not right?’ he repeated incredulously. ‘It sure as hell felt right until you suddenly decided it wasn’t, but I’m not into forcing any woman to have sex with me.’ He threw up the arm that had halted her rejection of any more togetherness. ‘If you hadn’t responded as you did...’
‘I didn’t mean to,’ she yelled at him, her face flaming at the truth he was flinging at her.
‘Oh, yes you did! Just for once you let that steel-trap mind of yours open enough for your instincts to take over and it was dynamite between us. Is that what scares you, Elizabeth?’
She hated how he could always hit the nail on the head with her. Yes, it scared her but she wasn’t going to admit it. She glared resentment at him. ‘I figure you’re dynamite to a lot of women, Harry, and I don’t care to be left in little pieces when you move on to your next piece of fluff.’
His hand sliced the air in savage dismissal of her argument. ‘I don’t think of you as fluff! Do you imagine I’d give this management job to someone I thought of as fluff?’
‘I’m not saying you didn’t believe I could do the work. But having a bit of sex on the side was on the plate, too, wasn’t it?’ she hurled back at him. ‘And now you’re peeved because I’ve decided not to cooperate.’
He rolled his head in exasperation. ‘Peeved does not describe what I feel right now, Elizabeth.’
There was a mountain of feeling brooding behind those words and Elizabeth instantly felt threatened by it. She scrambled off the day bed, swinging around on her feet to face down any follow-up from Harry. He hadn’t moved. He lay sprawled across the bed with his head propped up on his hand, his eyes searing hers with blistering accusation.
‘You’re shutting the gate on living life to the full,’ he said bitingly. ‘I don’t want your cooperation, Elizabeth. I want your surrender to what we could have together.’
‘That’s not the life I want,’ she retorted decisively.
‘You’re chasing dreams instead of taking on what’s real.’
‘My choice.’
‘One I can’t respect,’ he mocked.
‘I won’t stay here unless you do, Harry.’
‘Oh, I will on the surface, Elizabeth. You need have no fear of any unwelcomed advances from me. It will be strictly business tomorrow and any other day I’m here.’
She should have felt relieved, but there was an aching heaviness in her stomach, a drag of physical disappointment that was not about to be easily shifted. ‘In that case I’ll stay,’ she said flatly. Where else could she go and not be faced with Michael and Lucy? One thing she could certainly say for Harry—he had the knack of blotting them out for a while.
‘Your call.’ His mouth took on an ironic twist as he added, ‘And do feel free to call on me if you decide to change your mind and explore a different kind of life to the one you’ve planned so rigidly.’
She took a deep breath to ease the tightness in her chest and said, ‘Well, I’m glad we have that sorted.’
‘Yes, you’re a regular sorting machine, Elizabeth, everything slotted into its proper place,’ he drawled as he rolled off the other side of the day bed and faced her across it. ‘One day you might find there’s pleasure in improper activities.’
‘Not today,’ she said through gritted teeth, determined not to be taunted into doing anything reckless and stupid.
‘No, not today,’ he agreed mockingly. ‘I take it you’re about to say goodnight?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’ll fetch your cake. I wouldn’t want you to go without comfort food in the lonely darkness of the night.’
The cake.
She had completely forgotten it.
Wanted to forget it now but she couldn’t, not with the chef having made it especially for her. She would have to eat some of it, too, show appreciation.
Harry strode down the steps to the table that had been set for them. At his orders. She was sure of that. Hoping to sweeten her up to the point where he would slide into making a move on her. Her stomach curdled at how easy she had made it for him, and how quickly she had been caught up in the dynamic sexuality he could put out at will.
Her
