Best of Bosses 2008: In Bed With Her Italian Boss\Taken by Her Greek Boss\Blind Date With the Boss (28 page)

‘But aren't we here to…work?' Rose asked desperately. She crumbled a croissant in half as he did the same and tried to focus nonchalantly on the fact that he would have seen thousands of women in swimsuits. He wouldn't look twice at her.

‘Lateral thinking.' Nick demolished one half of his croissant in a single bite and wiped his mouth with his serviette. The breeze was light and warm and very, very inviting. Yes, work was on the agenda, but he had to admit to himself that he felt very relaxed, more relaxed than he had in years.

‘Lateral thinking,' Rose repeated and he nodded sagely at her.

‘We have a few possible locations to have a look at and we'll do that tomorrow with Lee, but basically the rest of the time here will be…investigative work…'

‘I thought we had meetings lined up. Don't we have to go over plans with your architects? What about the buildings inspector?' She had envisaged days packed with meetings and the gritty business of getting the ball rolling on foreign soil. Of course, they might share the occasional meal together, but on the hop so to speak. And he knew people in the area. Evenings, she had reckoned, he would spend with them, catching up on old times. It was what any normal human being would do.

Investigative work did not fit into her overall picture of their ten days on the island.

‘There's a hell of a lot to see here. Coffee? Another croissant? Yes, as I was saying, there's a lot to see.' He relaxed back and clasped his hands together behind his head. ‘Did you know, for example, that Borneo is the world's third largest island? That Sabah, the proposed site for my venture, has some of the oldest rainforests in the world? Oh, yes. There's a lot more to this place than the beach you see down there…and naturally, we have to check it all out so that we can decide where the ideal location would be. Beach or forest? Should we cater for the lazy traveller or the adventurous one? One person may be content to sit in the sun by a pool or stroll down to the beach and while away the day in a deckchair with a constant supply of cocktails on tap. Another may want to trek through the jungle in search of an orang-utan or two. Did you know that over here the orang-utan is known as the “wild man of Borneo”?'

‘We're going to see orang-utans?'

‘Not until we've checked out that pool and, of course, the beach.' He stood up and stretched, then stuck his hands in his pockets and stared out towards the sea. ‘Fascinating place this…where else can you find rainforests and white beaches sharing the same space? You'll see for yourself, but all in good time. For now…' he nodded towards the beach ‘…a lazy day checking out the competition.'

And sitting in front of a lukewarm cup of coffee and a half-eaten croissant was no longer an option. It was a glorious day, the sun was hot and she had absolutely no excuse to wriggle out of a swim in the sea.

Anyway, Nick's suggestions were often thinly veiled commands. And she was being paid generously by him. Some might well say that being paid to swim in the clear South China Sea was a pretty good deal.

Rose wasn't precisely thinking along those lines as she flung clothes hurriedly into drawers while deciding which of her three black swimsuits she would wear. She was thinking that there was safety in nursing her attraction under the respectable cloak of their professional relationship. Even if that professional relationship was a little more unorthodox than most. Indeed, the fact that she worked for him in his house probably accounted for her inconvenient attraction. Made sense. After all, she had previously felt exactly the opposite sentiment before she had found herself cooped up under his roof.

She had a brief feeling of triumph, as though she had managed to solve a complex maths problem.

Then she looked at herself in the long standing mirror by the wall. As swimsuits went, this one was modest. But yet there was cleavage to be seen, far too much for her liking, and legs and shoulders and the generous proportions that always made her want to cringe…

And on a beach…with his body on display…not just snatched glimpses of bare chest where the top two buttons of his shirt were undone…where was her protection going to be?

T
HE
beach was uncrowded. Too early, Rose guessed, for most of the guests. The same large canopied umbrellas that adorned the sides of the pool were in evidence along the beach, dotted here and there, and closer to the glassy, lake-like sea similar-coloured padded deckchairs were interspersed. Further along, she could see that a thin finger of land projected into the sea and from a distance might have passed for a jetty were it not for the coconut trees growing along it.

It was a breathtaking sight. Really a vision of paradise, from the white powdery sand dappled with shadows cast by the overhanging coconut trees, to the still, dazzling azure of the sea.

Rose paused and savoured the scene through the protective lenses of her very dark sunglasses. She had decided to maintain her inclination to conceal her shape by wearing a knee-length, flimsy beach dress and she could already feel the rising sun burning through it.

Along the beach, a couple of the deckchairs were occupied by early risers who were mostly reading and wearing sensible large straw hats.

Typically, Nick was nowhere to be seen and Rose was
peering into the distance when she felt a hand on her shoulder and he said, with a thread of amusement in his voice, ‘Why are you wearing a sheet?'

Rose swung around and glared at him from behind her sunglasses. ‘I'm trying to protect myself from the sun,' she snapped. ‘It's fine for you. You can tan easily but I'm a lot fairer. In fact, coming out into the sun at this hour is not a very good idea at all for someone of my complexion.'

Which, she admitted to herself, was something of a slight overstatement given it was still quite early in the day.

He, of course, was bare-backed but for the towel swung casually over his shoulders. As promised, he had brought hers with him and he reached out to give it to her, still grinning.

‘You should have brought a sombrero with you…like those practical people further along.'

Rose snatched the towel and began walking away, but slowed down at the notion that he might be sniggering as he watched her wobbly, none-too-toned rear.

She took heart from the comforting thought that this was not a holiday, this was work.

They seemed to be walking away from the scattering of people on the beach and she immediately set that particular situation right by heading towards one of the lounging chairs not far from an elderly lady who was napping with her book over her face.

‘Are you going to remove that garment of yours? Because I warn you—the sun here is very hot. Much hotter than in England.'

‘I've brought a notebook. I thought we might start jotting down a few things in connection with work.' She felt pleasantly secure behind the sunglasses and half watched as he spread his towel on the sand, ignoring the sun lounger, and
lay flat on it. As if that weren't distracting enough, he began to rub sun cream haphazardly over his body.

‘Even I burn,' he assured her. He could feel her watching him. She did that. Watched him. Nick was used to women watching him, but the concealed way she did it had become a powerful turn-on. He wanted her, but he wasn't going to get her through outrageous flirting or expensive gifts. He settled back, closed his eyes and waited for the prolonged silence to have the desired effect.

Eventually, Rose spoke, keeping her treacherous eyes away from the tempting sight of his practically naked, bronzed body. ‘What made you decide to go into…well…hotels?'

‘You sound like an interviewer.'

‘It's only polite curiosity,' Rose said. ‘Everyone has a reason for doing what they do.'

‘And you went into computing because…?'

‘We're not discussing me.' The sun was beginning to make her feel lazy and peaceful. She didn't want an argument. She wanted to close her eyes and let her chattering thoughts slip away. ‘I bet you don't even stay in many hotels.'

‘On the contrary. I'm rarely out of them.'

‘I meant for pleasure as opposed to business.' She glanced down at him and realised that he was barely listening to her. His eyes were closed and she was pretty sure that his thoughts were a million miles away. She carefully inched the flimsy beach robe off and began applying a generous layer of sunblock to her exposed skin, keeping a careful eye on him because lying flat she felt a whole lot more confident about her body than when she was sitting up, where her stomach, smooth as it might be, still seemed to have the last laugh at her for having spent years guiltily avoiding the gym.

Or maybe she was simply comparing herself to Lily who
had a washboard abdomen even when she was slouching and breathing out.

Job done, Rose lay back down and shaded her face with the magazine she had brought from her room.

‘Hotels for pleasure…hmm…well, maybe it's the pull of the challenge, to boldly embark on a project of which I have zero experience. There's nothing like the possibility of failure to get the adrenaline going.'

She was aware that he had half turned towards her and she kept her eyes firmly shielded behind her magazine.

‘I've conquered the money markets,' Nick said casually. ‘Or rather, I've made enough money to live comfortably for the rest of my life, even if I decided never to lift a finger again. Very comfortably. What does a man do when he reaches that position?'

‘Retire and enjoy what life has to offer,' Rose said, surprised. ‘But then, who would you enjoy it with?'

Nick sat up and lifted the magazine from her face, which immediately brought her shooting up so that they were staring at each other fully.

‘Sorry,' she mumbled. ‘That remark just sort of slipped out.'

‘Working with computers, Rose, might not have been the best career move for you.'

‘Meaning?'

‘Meaning you have no tact.' Nick would have left any other woman in no doubt that overstepping the boundaries was tantamount to a still-born relationship. However there was, he reminded himself, no relationship with this woman and, anyway, she was already bristling. Of course, he wasn't about to back down and allow a woman, any woman, to invade his private space, but was he really ready for a fight? When the sun was beating down on his back and the sea glimmered invitingly?

‘You mean that sometimes I don't agree with you.'

‘I'm going for a swim.' Nick stood up, a profile of one-hundred-per-cent masculine beauty, and glanced back over his shoulder to her. ‘Coming?'

‘I think I'll just stay here, thanks, and carry on sunbathing,' Rose flounced back onto her lounger and stuck the magazine back into position.

The notebook that she had packed to remind herself that work was the reason for her lazing on a lounger on a beach remained unopened in her bag. She had a moment of brief despair as she contemplated the remainder of their stay, then she turned her thoughts to his high-handed attitude, telling her she was lacking tact. It felt a lot better to fulminate.

By the time she had worked herself up some healthy self-righteous anger, the sun was beginning its ascent and pleasantly warm was turning into baking hot.

Rose reluctantly shelved her thoughts, sat up and glanced at her watch to discover, with shock, that Nick had now been swimming for over forty minutes, and when she peered towards the horizon, there was no sign of him.

Panic slammed into her and she shot to her feet and hurried down to the water line, shielding her eyes from the glare of the sun. The beach was more crowded now, although still relatively deserted. People were in the water. A quick glance told her that Nick was not among their number.

She obeyed her instinct and forged into the sea, which was so warm that her body barely needed to adjust to the temperature.

The one continuity in her life had been her swimming lessons. Tony and Flora had nurtured a vague, hippie-like notion that swimming was akin to being at one with nature, and, with that in mind, they had insisted on swimming lessons
wherever they had happened to be. The Education of Life was more important than the education of the classroom, but swimming was something they had insisted upon. And Rose had enjoyed it so much that she had continued even when classes had no longer been necessary and long after Lily had packed it in because it ruined her hair. Rose, never one to spend time agonising over the state of her hair, had found the silence and privacy of swimming a soothing balm to a tumultuous adolescence.

Feeling the water on her was like coming home.

As she struck out she wondered whether she should have run further up the beach in search of a lifeguard, but the thought of creating a scene, probably for no reason, was off-putting, never mind Nick's reaction if he returned from a simple swim to find the hotel's rescue party hot on his trail.

Anyway, it was too late to think about that.

She was pretty sure she would spot him a little further out, and then she could slink back to shore, safe in the knowledge that he was all right.

She swam confidently out but then, when the beach was beginning to look a little too distant for the sake of comfort, she felt the slow crawl of fear through her because who knew what inhabited the waters? They looked crystal-clear and perfectly innocent, but anything could be lurking in the depths. What if he had been sucked under by something? Were box jellyfish rampant in these waters or was she mixing up her oceans?

That thought was enough to convince her that heading back to shore and summoning the search party was the best course of action.

She was hardly aware of the shape quickly gaining on her until she felt something on her waist and she spluttered in sharp, sudden panic to a stop.

‘Were you worried?' Nick was laughing as he edged back from her.

Relief turned to anger and she glared at him, tempted to hit him smartly on his sexy, grinning face, but her training kicked in. Any kind of tussle in water was a bad idea.

‘I was hot,' she snarled, turning away and beginning to strike out back for land.

He caught her again, this time by her ankle, and she spun around and began treading water. ‘In case you don't know,' she snapped, ‘it's dangerous to fight in the water.'

‘Who's fighting?' He flicked his head in the direction of the promontory she had noticed earlier on. ‘In case you were wondering how come you couldn't find me…I was on that strip of land. I saw you swimming out and decided to meet you.'

‘Just in case I ran into problems?'

‘Can't have my employee drowning on my watch, can I?'

‘I happen to be a very strong swimmer.'

‘I noticed.'

Rose wasn't sure that she liked the thought of him looking at her while she had been swimming.

‘So…joining me? We could always swim back to shore and walk across, but better exercise this way.'

She didn't think he needed the exercise. Unlike her. But she was enjoying the water and she suddenly wanted to prove just how good a swimmer she was. She nodded and then headed strongly away towards the strip of land, invigorated as he swam up behind her, then alongside and finally in front, easily making it to land before her so that she found herself coming out of the water, dripping wet, with no protective outer layer of baggy clothing, while he sat on the sand and surveyed her at his leisure.

Self-consciousness kicked in along with all the insecurities
she had always had about her body, ones which should have been put to bed a long time ago because, really, what did looks matter?

Everything about her was unfashionably big. Her breasts were not the pert, small bumps beloved by fashionistas, her hair was too uncontrollable, her frame was just too short and stocky and she was sure that her rear could have done with several thousand more trips to the local swimming pool.

And there he was. A study in casual male beauty, sitting lazily on the trunk of a fallen coconut tree.

Her modest swimsuit suddenly felt like a handkerchief tied together with a few bits of string and Rose wrapped her arms around her body in a show of feeling cold.

‘I really never thought that this would be part of a working trip over here,' she said crossly, all too aware that he was sizing her up and finding her wanting in every department.

She had, he noticed, made sure to sit as far away from him as was humanly possible without it looking glaringly obvious. Coy, he thought, not for the first time, was not a word in her vocabulary. Neither were the words flirting or teasing. If she had had her notebook to hand, he was pretty certain that she would have brandished it just to make sure that he got her hands-off message.

Once upon a time, he might have been amused by that because his hands would not have wanted to be on her, but not so now.

Next to her, the women he had dated in the past were stick insects, devoid of personality and sex appeal. He wanted to tell her that instead of huddling next to him, arms wrapped around her body in an attempt to hide the glorious abundance of her body, she should revel in her womanly curves.

However he acknowledged that she would probably hit
him if he did that, so he dragged his eyes reluctantly away from her and resigned himself to the prospect of a slow seduction via harmless small talk, not a route he had ever favoured.