And, to prove it, she would have a magnificent sandwich waiting for him when he came in. Because they would both need to eat before they could take a boat to the mainland...and never see each other again.
The charm offensive she’d planned for the plane journey was not a good idea until they actually got on their way, because it was going to be a titanic effort to maintain it while he was being so difficult. And, knowing him, he’d probably misconstrue her motives and think she was using her nefarious seduction skills to prise precious information about his company out of him.
The jerk.
She scoffed loudly, knowing that no one could hear her. For goodness’ sake—if he only knew how ridiculous that scenario was. How the heck could she be Mata Hari when she had so little experience of sex and no experience of seduction whatsoever? But she’d be damned if she’d defend herself against those ludicrous accusations.
And the truth was, on careful consideration, she would much rather he cast her in the role of scheming femme fatale than simpering virgin. How much more compromised would she feel right now if he knew she had chosen him to be her first lover? Or how much those moments had meant to her?
The guy already had an ego the size of Oregon.
She slapped slices of baloney and cheese onto the bread, then slathered the sandwiches in mayonnaise and mustard, even more determined to take the moral high ground and extend this olive branch to him—thus treating his snotty attitude with the contempt it deserved...even if it killed her.
Swallowing her temper now, in a way he had been unable to swallow his, wouldn’t just make her the better person, it would show him he hadn’t rattled her or upset her—far from it... Unlike her father, he didn’t have the power to hurt her. All he had the power to do was infuriate her. And if she didn’t show him how infuriated she was, he wouldn’t even have the satisfaction of doing that.
Ultimately, by rising above his sulky behaviour she could take a huge chunk out of his superiority complex. And on a professional level her strategy was a win-win, too. Because saving her job mattered. Stopping him from suing her or Temple Corp mattered. What had happened last night and what he thought of her did not.
She finished making his sandwich, then left it with a curt note on the countertop before taking her own sandwich to eat in one of the guest bedrooms.
She would learn from this experience, and next time she got offered a ride on a seaplane to a private island for one wild night of pleasure, by a volatile, super-hot, brooding billionaire with a chip on his shoulder the size of a redwood, she would run full-tilt in the opposite direction.
Her stomach continued to churn, though, as she forced herself to consume every bite—while the brick in her belly resolutely refused to go away.
Please, please, don’t let me be stuck here for another night.
CHAPTER SIX
LUKE TRUDGED UP the stairs carved into the rock wall that led from the dock as sunset burst over the horizon. He barely spared a glance for the spectacular light show of reds and oranges bleeding into the cerulean blue of the sky, so dog-tired he was ready to face-plant on every agonising step.
And more frustrated than he had ever been in his life.
No way was he getting his overnight guest off the island any time soon.
He’d managed to crank open the doors to the boathouse, only to discover the boat’s hull had been damaged in last night’s storm too. Not only that, but when his cell service had come back for a half-hour he’d checked the local shipping forecast and seen a number of weather warnings that made any attempt to make it to the mainland in the next couple of days—even if he fixed the boat—not a good idea.
Exhaustion dragged at his heels and made his shoulders sag.
Jezebel was a write-off too, until he could get a plane mechanic out here—and that wasn’t happening for the next few days either, because of the weather forecast.
After confronting that reality he’d kayaked to Pirates’ Cove on the opposite end of the island and taken his daily swim, trying to calm himself down enough to function again. Even in summer the water had been satisfyingly freezing. Then, to keep his mind off the woman now camped out in his house—and his head—he’d spent the rest of the day circumnavigating the island’s ten miles of shoreline to check for any more damage.
His home was the only major structure on Sunrise, and it had survived unscathed, and he’d repaired some broken shingles on the boathouse roof before heading home to give himself time to think.
As much as he wanted Cassandra gone, the fact that he couldn’t get her off the island in the next few days meant he had a couple of options. He could take time out from his hard-earned vacation time to repair the boat’s hull himself...or he could do what he’d originally intended to do before he’d met Cassandra James—spend the week getting some much-needed downtime on his private island, and she would just have to stay the hell out of his way.
His eyes stung as he brushed sea-matted hair off his forehead, and heat pulsed beneath his wetsuit on cue. He drew in a harsh breath and shoved open the door to the mud room. Damn it. Even though he was exhausted, she still had the power to make him ache.
A vision of her as she had looked ten hours ago in his kitchen—wearing his oversized T-shirt, her hair tied on top of her head in a haphazard knot—blasted back into his brain and he tensed.
She hadn’t even tried to defend herself. Hadn’t even had the decency to admit what she’d done and apologise. If anything, she’d doubled down on her scheme—which was exactly why he wasn’t going to let her screw over his vacation. She’d already screwed him over enough.
He could control his desire if he put his mind to it.
He needed this break before the product launch.
He and his team had been working on the prototypes for two years, and he hadn’t taken any vacation time in almost as long.
Indignation seared his throat as he sat down on the bench and tugged off his board shoes, heat still pulsing defiantly in his lap. And the memories he’d managed to keep at bay throughout most of the day, through sheer force of will and hard physical activity, cascaded through his tired body.