Not Just the Boss's Plaything(59)

Dru blinked in the brightness and took in her surroundings. There was    another pier down from her bungalow with a selection of small watercraft    drawn up to it and on the shore nearby. She could see water in all    directions, a darker blue on the far side of the island and that    stunning turquoise beneath her bungalow in what must be the famous Bora    Bora Lagoon.

She walked back into the villa and was struck anew by the beauty she'd    only partially registered last night. The dark wood, the high ceilings    to draw up the day's heat, all of it exposed to the tropical paradise    and thus a part of it, too. The jungle pressed in on all sides, with  the   sea just beyond. It felt as wild as it did welcoming, and made    something in her seem to ease as she stood there.

When she finished eating a simple meal of toast and tea out on one of    the many terraces overlooking the water, she felt restless. Cayo    typically did not expect her to rush to work after a long-haul flight    unless he had explicitly stated otherwise, so she didn't feel she had to    seek him out at once. She assured herself any employee would feel the    same-that it had nothing to do with all the churning emotion he'd    stirred in her the night before. Nothing at all. Instead, she wandered    down to the wooden path and followed it. It ran down to the pier, then    on, making its lazy way down to the farthest point of the island and    then looping back around.                       
       
           



       

Palm trees rustled over her head and bright flowers bloomed jubilantly    on either side of the tidy boardwalk. She could hear birds up above and    the waves against the shore. It made perfect sense to her that  Dominic   would have wanted this to be his final resting place. The sun  was warm   on her face, the breeze a caress against her skin. She felt  serene. At   peace.

All you needed was a good night's sleep, she told herself firmly.

As the villa came into view again, perched up over its own gleaming    white beach, she saw there was a whole section of it she'd yet to    explore. It was not until she left the path and climbed up for a closer    look that she realized that what looked like a separate wing was, in    fact, Cayo's master suite.

The wide-open walls meant she could step inside too easily and so,    giving in to an urge she didn't recognize, she stepped into the first of    the rooms, and then sucked in a sharp breath. It was an airy space    appointed with deft masculine touches, bold colors and clean lines, but    the centerpiece was the massive bed that dominated the room. Cayo  slept   here last night, a little voice whispered. Or perhaps more  recently,  as  it was still unmade, the snowy white coverlet tossed to  one side,  the  pillows dented.

And suddenly, Dru went hot all over. Then cold. Almost as if she was feverish.

She reached over and traced the indentation in the nearest pillow with a    fingertip. She imagined him naked and dark against the crisp sheets,    that perfect, impossible body on display, her own body softening and    melting at the pictures in her head-

It was clearly time to find the man-her boss, she reminded herself    sharply-and concentrate on what remained of her time in this job, not on    her incurable madness where he was concerned. Not on the way she    burned.

She glanced at the art and small collections of statues and carvings as    she made her way down the hall, peering into each room as she passed.    There was a library fitted with a wall of books, a seating area within    and a covered lanai outside with a plush loveseat and two    armchairs-perfect for a read in the shade. There was a private lounge    with a flat-screen television on one wall and a fire pit with a dramatic    chimney on the other, and what looked like a built-in bar in the    corner. And then an office suite, kitted out with computers and other    equipment, sleek modern furniture-and Cayo.

Dru stopped in the doorway, watching him as he frowned down at his    laptop with his mobile clamped to his ear, as usual. His hair looked    unruly, as if he'd spent hours raking it back with his fingers, and he'd    neglected to shave. It made him look even more dark and sexy than    usual. Unpredictable, somehow. Edgy.

"You misunderstand me," he was saying in cold, deadly French into his    mobile. "It is no matter to me whether we ever open a plant in    Singapore. But I suspect it is of great importance to you. Perhaps you'd    like to rethink your tactics?"

He looked absurdly beautiful, as if someone had carved him into being    from the finest stone and set him among lesser statues. He fairly    gleamed in the golden sunlight streaming in behind him. He looked    terrible and great the way the old gods might have, dangerous and    mighty, and if he'd announced that he could command the weather at his    whim, she would have believed it. The storm within her howled into  being   anew, the fever and the yearning, and he was to blame.

He raised his head then and met her gaze. Her stomach dropped and she    stopped kidding herself about serenity and a good night's sleep. It was    as if he was inside her, provoking her, making her ache and burn.

He looked at her as if she were naked and beneath him. And Dru couldn't    help but wish she was, no matter how much she hated herself for her  own   eternal weakness.

Cayo sat back in his chair, his eyes on her as he finished the call with    an abruptness that she knew must have made the man on the other end    wince. He tossed his mobile on to the desktop in front of him and then    regarded her, his golden eyes narrow and much too shrewd. His olive  skin   seemed darker against the loose white shirt he wore, making it    impossible not to notice his lean, muscled arms and that perfect chest.    Her breasts swelled against her vest. Her palms felt damp. And there   was  that same familiar ache, blooming into life so low in her belly.                       
       
           



       

Sleep or no sleep, she was doomed.

"Henri is still giving you trouble?" she asked, determined to ignore    what was happening to her, what she felt. Desperate to concentrate on    business instead.

"He remains unclear on the chain of command," Cayo replied, though the    way he looked at her made her think he was not thinking of Henri or the    Singapore project at all. "I think he has already convinced himself   that  I am not, in fact, the majority shareholder now."

"You expected that," Dru reminded him. She reached out a hand and    touched the door frame next to her, running her finger over the dark    wooden beam. The slightly rough texture made her feel even warmer,    somehow, as if she was touching him instead. "You felt his personal    connection with the employees and his decades of company loyalty far    outweighed any tussles over authority you might have to have."

"So I did." He leaned against the arm of his chair and propped up his    jaw in his hand, eyeing her in a way that made her keenly aware that he    was one of the most powerful men in the world and she was...the only    person she knew who had tried to defy him. "How do you find Bora Bora?    Is it living up to your expectations?"

Dru couldn't seem to hold his gaze for more than a second at a time, and    had no idea why. She felt...fluttery. It was as if he really had    branded her last night with that odd, small touch in the dark, and she    didn't know how to regain her equilibrium. Not when he was in front of    her like this. Her lips seemed to tingle all over again, as if    remembering. Yearning.

"I don't understand you," she said.

"That is hardly a breaking news item," he said dryly. "What is it you    feel you need to understand? I am a simple man, when all is said and    done. I like what I like." His hard mouth curved, his dark eyes gleamed    gold. "I want what I want."