A Perfect Husband Page 14

  She frowned. The design was hauntingly familiar. She was certain she had seen something like it before, although, in the flickering light of the candles, she couldn’t be sure. Curiosity briefly overrode her disappointment as she studied the archaic design.

  She itched to put her spectacles on and examine the bracelet more closely, but she couldn’t afford either the professional or the emotional attachment. Not when it looked like a bracelet was Zane’s standard form of dating gift.

  Despite all of the reasons she could not accept the bracelet, a small part of her didn’t want to relinquish it. The value of the stones didn’t come into it. The bracelet could have been made of plastic. What mattered was that Zane had thought to give her a gift, a keepsake of their time together.

  Unfortunately, old or new, she couldn’t risk accepting the bracelet in case Zane took that as her tacit agreement to a relationship with him on his terms.

  As his temporary live-in lover.

  After the way he had interfered with her dating program that afternoon, she knew that if she weakened, Zane would be relentless.

  Reluctantly, she placed the bracelet on the table.

  Zane frowned. “Aren’t you going to try it on?”

  “It’s lovely, but I can’t accept it.”

  “If this is about Gemma, you don’t have to worry. She was my personal assistant, nothing more.”

  “I don’t think she sees it that way.” Gemma’s attitude toward Zane had always been distinctly proprietorial. So much so that for most of the past two years, Lilah had thought she was Zane’s steady girl.

  He looked impatient. “Which is why she isn’t my P.A. anymore. The bracelet was a goodbye gift.”

  Lilah made an effort to calm emotions that were rapidly spiraling out of control. She had to keep reminding herself that she was with Zane now, not Gemma. “Goodbye, and she transfers to Medinos?”

  It would not have been the way she would have handled the situation.

  “I couldn’t fire her, and she liked Medinos. It was a solution.”

  Lilah’s fingers clenched. Gemma had clearly gotten emotionally involved and Zane had found a way of shifting her out of his work space, while still letting her have her way and stay close.

  And think that she still had a chance.

  It was a perfect example of Zane’s nice side. From her dealings with him in the charity, Lilah knew he didn’t like seeing anyone in a vulnerable situation get hurt. He would go out of his way to personally help. She loved that evidence of his compassion but she couldn’t help wishing that Zane had been a bit more ruthless with Gemma.

  Another unsettling thought occurred to her. If Zane had not given Gemma a definite “no” she had to wonder how many other discarded women still lingered on the fringes of his life in the hope that a relationship was still possible.

  It was not a happy thought. Zane was nothing like the irresponsible, self-centered men who had abandoned her mother and grandmother, nevertheless the scenario with Gemma was unsettling in a way she hadn’t quite worked out.

  Ignoring the champagne and the dessert, Lilah got briskly to her feet.

  Now visibly annoyed, Zane slipped the bracelet into his pocket and rose to his feet. He fell into step with her as she threaded her way between the tables, easily keeping pace.

  His palm cupped her elbow, sending tingling heat up her arm. His gaze locked on hers. “Why won’t you accept the gift?”

  Lilah ignored the gritty demand and the pleasure that flooded her that, finally, Zane was responding in the way she had hoped. She focused on a bland section of beige wall in an effort to control the wimpy desire to give in, fling her arms around his neck and melt against him. “It’s…too expensive.”

  “I’m rich. Money is no object.”

  They emerged from the restaurant. A little desperately she eyed the bank of elevators ahead. “It’s not about the value, exactly.”

  Zane released her elbow as they reached the elevators. She caught a flash of his expression in the glossy steel doors. He looked disbelieving and grimly annoyed.

  “Do I get points for trying?”

  Her gaze snapped to his. “You read my folder.”

  “I needed to see what I was up against.”

  Lilah jabbed the elevator button. A door slid open. “That would be commitment.”

  After a night of passion that was curiously unsatisfying, Lilah rose early and spent time alone, adapting elements of the marriage plan to suit the new strategy. She decided the best way to show Zane that she was not fretting over the way their brief fling, apart from the heart-pounding sex, seemed to be disintegrating was to throw herself into her work.

  During the early hours, she had given herself a pep talk about the positives. Zane had responded to her elusiveness with a gift. It had been the wrong gift and he had cheated by reading her folder, which was a blot. She was prepared to overlook his behavior on the basis that he had not thought things through. The one shining factor was that he had made his choices based on the desire to win her. It was progress.

  For the next two days she got up early and walked to Ambrosi’s new retail center, a charming, antiquated building situated on the bustling waterfront. Interior decorating wasn’t her job, but the retail center would be her temporary office until the facility on Ambrus was completed. Lilah figured that if she had to work there for the next six months she needed to like her surroundings, so she pulled rank and inserted herself into the process.

  Zane, who had had to spend long hours closeted with Elena working through the raft of paperwork on a deal in Florida, had become even more remote. Despite their lovemaking, the abyss between them seemed to be widening.

  With her strategy seemingly in tatters, it was hard to concentrate on paint colors and curtain samples when all she wanted to do was take a taxi back to the resort and throw herself into Zane’s arms.

  To avoid weakening, she had taken herself shopping during the long, somnolent lunch breaks the Medinians enjoyed. Instead of eating, she had spent a large amount of money on filmy, sexy clothes and a daring hot orange bikini that she gloomily decided she would probably never get the opportunity to wear.

  New makeup that made her eyes look smoky and exotic, subtle caramel streaks in her hair and a fake tan completed the makeover. Every time she caught her reflection in glass doors or looked in a mirror, Lilah was amazed at the difference the subtle changes had made, although Zane had barely seemed to notice.

  Tempted as she was to bluntly declare that she was in love with him and put an end to the tension, Lilah made a grim effort to appear sunnily content. She couldn’t shake off the dreadful conviction that the instant Zane knew she had fallen for him, he would put an end to any hope of long-term commitment.

  That was how it had worked with her mother and her grandmother. Once the prize was won, the passion had cooled. Their lovers hadn’t been able to leave fast enough.

  Zane strolled into the building chaos just short of noon. Wearing dark narrow trousers and a loose white shirt, sunlight slanting across his taut cheekbones, he managed to look both dangerously sexy and casual.

  Lilah was instantly aware of her own attire. Instead of her usual low-key neutrals, today she was wearing one of her new purchases, a filmy orange blouse teamed with a tight little black camisole that revealed just a hint of cleavage and tight, white jeans. Combined with strappy orange heels and iridescent orange nail polish, the effect was unexpectedly striking.

  Zane’s gaze glittered over her. Lilah registered the gratifying flare of shock that was almost instantly shuttered.

  Zane had finally noticed her. Although, it could simply be the orange color, which she had developed something of a fetish for lately. Orange was hard to miss.

  Just minutes ago she had felt warm, but comfortable. Now, beneath the weight of Zane’s gaze, despite all of the doors and windows flung wide admitting the balmy sea breeze, Lilah felt flushed and overheated.

  “Are you ready to go?”

  Th
at afternoon Zane had planned a boat trip to survey Ambrosi’s old oyster beds and the site for the new processing plant. The trip would be followed up by a launch function for the new enterprise at the castello.

  Lilah ignored the faint edge to Zane’s voice and kept her attention on Mario, the builder. She had spent the morning directing a number of contractors as they had fitted air-conditioning and lighting fixtures and erected partitioning. Mario was a little on the short side, but outrageously handsome. On a purely intellectual level she had thought she should feel something for such a good-looking man. Depressingly, the only thing she had felt had been the battle of wills as Mario had tried to improve on her floor plan. “Almost.”

  Zane’s gaze shifted to the bronzed contractor who was hefting a dividing panel into place. Mario had already repositioned the panel for her twice. Both times the angle had not been quite right. As a consequence he was sweating, his T-shirt clinging damply to his chest.

  Mario placed the partition and finally got it right. She rewarded him with a smile. “Bene.”

  Zane’s fingers interlaced with hers. A split second later she found herself pulled into a light clinch. Her heart pounded as Zane’s gaze settled on her mouth. The move was masculine and dominant and, in front of the contractors, definitely territorial.

  His mouth brushed over hers, sending a hot pulse of adrenaline through her. It was a claiming kiss, the kind of reaction she had wanted two days ago.

  Two days. Panic made her tense. Time was sliding away, only four days left. Suddenly, it didn’t seem nearly enough time for Zane to fall in love with her.

  Zane’s hands settled at her waist, making her feel even hotter. This close she could see the nicks of long-ago scars, the faint kink in a nose that should have been perfectly straight, the silky shadow of his lashes. She drew in a breath and just for a few seconds, gave herself permission to relax.

  Zane cocked his head to one side. “Is this a ‘yes’?”

  She stiffened at the lethal combination of pressure and charm. “Yes, to the boat trip.”

  The midday sun struck down, glaringly hot on the marina jetty, as Lilah walked on ahead while Zane unloaded dive gear from the trunk of the car. She rummaged in her new string beach bag for a pair of dark glasses as she strolled, drawn by the bobbing yachts and the aquamarine clarity of the sea.

  Movement on Zane’s yacht drew her gaze. The bleached surfer hair on one of the men rang an instant alarm bell, although neither of the other two men on the yacht were remotely recognizable.

  Although, if it was the three J’s she was looking at, she shouldn’t be surprised. If most of the applicants had been scammers, the odds were not good for the three she had picked.

  Suddenly any idea that Zane had been suffering the agonies of an emotional crisis for the past two days was swept away. The entire time she had been playing her waiting game, he had been busy working on a preemptive move.

  By the time Zane appeared, stripped down to a pair of sleek black neoprene dive pants, his chest bare, a gear bag filled with diving equipment, there was no doubt.

  Jaw set, she met his gaze. “How did you get them here? Wait, let me guess—Spiros.”

  What was the point in having a henchman unless he could do useful things like kidnap all three of her potential husbands?

  Fifteen

  The lenses of Zane’s dark glasses made him look frustratingly remote and detached. “You make it sound like Spiros kidnapped them. All he did was pilot the jet.”

  That was like saying that all Blackbeard did was sail the ship. “How did you get them?”

  The idea that they had been coerced in any way evaporated as she took in their collective grins, the clink of beers. A definite holiday air pervaded the yacht. “No wait, don’t tell me, it was a corporate kidnap.” She slid her dark glasses onto the bridge of her nose. “Two days. Paradise.”

  Zane shrugged. “They could have refused.”

  “Hah!”

  His gaze narrowed. “If you don’t want to spend time with them just say the word. Spiros can take them out for the afternoon, no problem.”

  Which was, she realized, exactly what he wanted. He hadn’t brought the men here so she could get together with them. His plan was much simpler than that. He was intent on ruthlessly cutting them out of her life.

  She squashed the thrill that shot through her at his un-PC behavior and jabbed a finger in the direction of his chest. “You had no right—”

  He caught her hand and drew her close, his hold gentle as he pressed her palm against his bare chest. “While you’re with me, I have every right. I told you I wanted to be present when you met them.”

  Lilah’s toes curled at the fiery heat of his skin against her palm, the thud of his heart, the sneaky, undermining way he had gotten around the issue of crashing her dates. “I didn’t agree.”

  Although, she realized that none of that mattered now, because it was clear Zane had never considered any of the men as serious contenders. If he had, he would not have brought them to Medinos.

  She stared at the obdurate line of his jaw. In a moment of blinding clarity, she recognized the flip side of the situation, an even more important truth. Zane wanted her enough to eliminate the three J’s in the first place. Far from ignoring her for the past two days, Zane had been focusing his energies on systematically clearing away all opposition so he could have what he wanted. As if her agreement to his proposition was a forgone conclusion.

  He jerked his head in the direction of the yacht. “It’s your choice. If you don’t want to spend time with them, you don’t have to.”

  Tension hummed through her along with an undermining, utterly female sense of satisfaction. It was difficult to stay mad at Zane for completely subverting her strategy when a part of her adored it that he had gone to such lengths to cut out the competition.

  He wanted her, enough that he couldn’t bear the thought of her having other men in the picture. It was exactly the result she had wanted; it just hadn’t panned out the way she had thought.

  A dazzling idea momentarily blotted out everything else. She was suddenly glad for the concealment of the dark glasses. “Not a problem,” she said smoothly.

  Mentally, she ticked off a number of new, exciting options all based around having three extra men in close proximity for the afternoon. “Now that they’re here, why not meet them?”

  Seconds later, Zane handed Lilah onto the yacht.

  Jack Riordan, clearly an outdoors kind of guy and at home on the yacht in a pair of board shorts and a tank, looked exactly like his photo. Jeremy Appleby did not. Instead of tall and dark, he was blond and thin, with a goatee. He also had an impressive camera slung around his neck, which put Lilah on instant alert.

  Zane’s gaze touched on hers. The knowledge that he had also noted the camera formed a moment of intimacy that sent pleasure humming through her. Despite everything that was wrong between them, in that moment she felt utterly connected to Zane, as if they were a couple.

  She also felt protected. Next to Zane’s and Spiros’s tanned, muscular frames, Appleby looked weak and weedy. Lilah would not want to be in Appleby’s shoes if he tried to take photos or file a story.

  Like Appleby, John Smith did not look anything like the GQ photograph he had supplied. With his plump build, balding head and glasses, he didn’t come close.

  A blond head popped out of the cabin, breaking the stilted conversation. Lilah recognized the pretty flight attendant from the jet. Though she was dressed now in a bright pink bikini teamed with a pair of low-slung white shorts, evidently Jasmine was fulfilling the same role, because she had a tray of cold drinks.

  Lilah noticed that Jack Riordan seemed riveted by Jasmine’s honey-blond hair and mentally crossed him off her now-defunct list.

  After casting off, Spiros took the wheel. To Lilah’s relief, Zane didn’t leave her alone with the three men, but stayed glued to her side. Her relief was short-lived as Zane systematically questioned each of the three J’s
about their lives, concentrating on their finances.

  An hour into an agonizingly slow trip, which bore more of a resemblance to the Spanish Inquisition than a pleasure cruise, they reached Ambrus.

  Zane dropped anchor. Spiros heaved the inflatable raft into the water, preparatory to rowing to the beach. The three J’s trooped below to change into their beachwear.

  Lilah clamped down on her frustration and helped Jasmine take glasses and bottles to the galley. When she emerged on deck, Zane was securing the inflatable. She checked that the three J’s were still below. “You had no right to interrogate them like that.”

  Apart from the fact that it had been embarrassing, it had utterly nixed any opportunities to make Zane jealous. She had barely been able to get a word in edgewise.

  Zane knotted the rope to a cleat and straightened. “Did you really believe Appleby owned his own software company?”

  When he had not seemed to know the difference between a megabyte and a gigabyte, it hadn’t seemed likely. “No.”

  “Or that John Smith is the CEO of an accounting firm?”

  She had not caught on to all of the jargon Zane, who had a double degree in business administration and accounting, had dropped into the conversation, but she had understood enough to know that John Smith had failed the test. “Jack Riordan seems genuine.” His knowledge of the yacht at least seemed to back up his small boat-building business.

  At that moment, the three men emerged on deck, ready to board the inflatable. Appleby and Smith, their alabaster skin slathered with sunblock, appeared to glow beneath the brassy Mediterranean sun.

  If Lilah had been fooled, even for a second, that Zane was doing this out of the kindness of his heart, that notion would have now been completely discredited.

  First the inquisition, now the swimsuit contest.

  When they reached the beach, Jasmine tossed her shorts on the sand, laid out a bright yellow towel and lay down to sunbathe. While Zane and Spiros assembled snorkeling gear, Lilah strolled behind a clump of shade trees to change. Setting her beach bag down on the sand, she extracted the hot orange bikini, which she had been reluctant to change into on the yacht.