Lucy grinned at him as she brought an armload of garments to the bag. ‘No respect for your position.’
He nodded. ‘Altogether too self-centred.’
She shook her head, wryly remarking, ‘It starts off good. You think it’s going to be great. Then it all goes downhill.’ Her eyes sparkled brightly at him. ‘Let’s make a deal, Michael. I won’t try to change you and you won’t try to change me. If we don’t gel as we are, then we accept that and part with no hard feelings.’
‘Sounds good to me.’
He didn’t want to change one thing about Lucy Flippence. Her directness and spontaneity were a delight. He imagined her last guy had been the type to want to catch a butterfly, put it in a bottle, poison it and pin it to a board so it could never fly away and attract anyone else’s eye. She was well rid of him.
‘I’ll just grab Ellie’s toiletries and make-up from the bathroom and pack them before I add the good stuff. Don’t move. I’ll be right back,’ she instructed.
It was strange being in his PA’s bedroom. It actually felt like an intrusion of her private life, which he’d known nothing about until Lucy had enlightened him. He hoped Harry would be careful with Elizabeth, not treat her feelings lightly if he pursued the attraction that Lucy was so sure of.
Maybe a trip over to the island might be a wise move, to check out what was happening between them. In a month’s time Michael wanted a fully functional Elizabeth back in the office with him, and that might not be how it would end up if his brother messed with her emotions.
Lucy waltzed back in with her plunder from the bathroom.
‘Are you free this coming weekend?’ he asked her.
‘Free as a bird,’ she answered blithely, placing Elizabeth’s essentials in the bag.
Or a butterfly, Michael thought, smiling over his image of her. ‘We could go over to Finn Island, see how your sister’s doing, stay Saturday night and enjoy the facilities ourselves.’
Her face lit with delight and she clapped her hands in excitement at the prospect. ‘I’d love that, Michael.’
‘I’ll call Harry tomorrow, set it up.’
‘Wonderful! I know about Finn Island, of course—exclusive getaway, open bar, gourmet food—but I’ve never been there. Do you go often yourself?’ she asked as she returned to the wardrobe to select more clothes.
‘No. Harry oversees everything to do with the island.’
‘I didn’t mean for business.’
‘For pleasure?’
‘Yes. I imagine it’s very romantic.’
Michael laughed. ‘With the right companion, yes. It’s not such a paradise with the wrong one.’
‘Well, I hope it will be paradise for us,’ she said, grinning at him while proceeding to load up the bag. ‘This should see Ellie through. She can tell me on the weekend if she needs more.’ Having zipped it shut, Lucy grinned at him again. ‘Now food and wine and fun in the kitchen.’
Michael was happy with that program.
She led him back to the living room, where she whipped away her towel, picked up the yellow dress, put it on—without underclothes—and turned to him as she did up the tie belt, her eyes dancing teasingly. ‘This is safer for me while cooking, but you can keep your towel, Michael.’
He did, enjoying the idea that he was as accessible to her touch as she was to his in the wraparound dress. She quickly provided glasses and he opened the bottle of wine, while she removed a prepared salad and a plate of prawns from the refrigerator.
It was fun in the kitchen. Lucy was playful, provocative and positively entrancing. She had a wonderfully expressive face and he loved watching it as she talked and laughed, loved how her dress swished with the sway of her hips and the bodice gaped with each movement of her breasts. She was so delectably female, absolutely adorable and incredibly sexy.
The meal they sat down to was perfect: prawns cooked in a Thai dressing with a touch of ginger and chilli, accompanied by a very tasty salad. Lucy ate with uninhibited relish. Just watching her enjoy the food was erotic. She emitted a joy in life that Michael realised he’d been missing ever since his parents had died.
There’d been pleasures—many of them, from many sources—but this unadulterated sense of joy bubbling over... His mother had been like that, as though every day the sun shone just for her, and life was always beautiful. The gift of happiness, he thought. Lucy had it, too. Maybe he had found the woman he could spend the rest of his life with.
The fanciful thought surprised him. What had it been—about nine hours since he’d met Lucy? She made an incredible impact, but it was far too early to be entertaining any thoughts about a future with her beyond the month he’d given himself. As she’d said herself, it starts off good then it all goes downhill. Right now it was great, but ‘downhill’ was probably on its way, sooner or later.
After they had cleaned up after their meal they returned to the bedroom, both of them intent on a slower build-up to ultimate intimacy. Michael loved Lucy’s total lack of inhibitions, her innate sensuality, the exquisite delicacy of her tantalising caresses. She inspired him to stroke, kiss and taste her all over, revelling in her responses. It was an act of extreme control to hold off taking her until she begged him to do so, intense need making her voice shrill. His own excitement was at fever pitch and their coming together was even more incredibly satisfying than before.
He was conscious of a wildly primitive elation, almost a sense of triumph in bringing her to such a powerful peak of wanting him. She climaxed almost immediately and he exulted in the hot creaminess of her as he drove towards his own climax—a fiercely ecstatic release that left him floating in a sea of joy.
When he finally kissed Lucy goodbye that night, he carried the joy with him. How this relationship would turn out—whether they’d be compatible as a couple or not—he didn’t know and didn’t care. He was going to take whatever he could of Lucy Flippence until the joy of her ran out.
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