At the Boss's Command

by Darcy Maguire

‘Yes. I paid for her to attend an advanced new drug-rehab clinic near Zurich. She’s still there. I hope she works her life out. But that’s up to her now.’

  Amy looked at her box. ‘My lantern is pretty,’ she said in a quiet voice, ‘but it didn’t shed much light.’

  ‘Some lanterns are just for looking at,’ he said.

  ‘I couldn’t see past the end of my own nose,’ she said, mourning her own emotional misjudgements. ‘I’m so sorry I said what I did. I thought—’

  ‘What did you think?’ he demanded as she broke off.

  ‘Nothing,’ she muttered. It was certainly better that he did not know the dark thoughts that had been going through her mind. It was just as well the firefly lantern shed such a dim light; her face was scarlet with humiliation. She wanted to run away from Anton right now, run and not stop until she was a hundred miles away from his presence.

  As if sensing her thoughts, he rose. ‘I’m going to turn in, Worthington. Coming?’

  ‘I think I’ll sit out here in the cool for a little while longer,’ she said thickly.

  ‘Don’t stay out too late. I think you got a touch of the sun today. You need sleep. Goodnight.’

  ‘Goodnight, Anton.’

  There was no goodnight kiss. He walked back into the house. Amy sat turning the glowing lantern in her hands, her mind occupied with many thoughts, not all of them happy ones. She had rushed to judge Anton by her own lights. The fact that she had been so far from the truth said more about her than it did about Anton.

  They had rushed to judge her in just the same way. She’d had no defence against the wagging tongues, the sneering eyes of those who thought themselves so much better than she. It had hurt so much.

  Now she had done exactly the same thing to Anton, the one person in all the world she most cared about. Did he guess the way her thoughts had run? Had he heard the rumours that the silly nurse in Hong Kong was spreading?

  The first thing she would do when she got back, she vowed, was go to her and tell her just how wrong she was. She did not need to give away Marcie’s secrets—just tell a foolish gossip how harmful her speculations were.

  The little fairy lights revolved restlessly in her lantern. She opened the lid and shook their prison gently. Like a shower of sparks, the glowing creatures spiralled upwards and dispersed into the dark, velvety Vietnamese night. She had not believed that Anton was serious about taking the next day off; but she felt his hand shake her gently awake very early the next morning, and struggled upright to accept the coffee and brioche—both authentically French and steaming hot—that he had brought her.

  ‘Rise and shine,’ he said, smiling at her tousle-haired confusion. ‘We’re going to the seaside.’

  Within half an hour they were driving through the early-morning traffic out of the city. This time there were just the two of them in the large and dignified old Peugeot. The chauffeur, too, was getting a day off.

  ‘You seem to be having fun driving this old lady,’ she commented, sitting sideways in her seat to watch him. ‘Isn’t it rather a come-down after your pocket rocket in Hong Kong?’

  ‘It’s a change of pace, not a come-down,’ he said, grinning. ‘I’m taking your advice, and getting my life in order.’

  She raised one eyebrow. ‘Is that what I said?’

  ‘You told me to get my priorities straight.’

  ‘Where are we going, anyway?’ she demanded.

  ‘To Bai An,’ he said. ‘It’s one of my favourite places on the coast. We can hire a boat for twenty dollars and tour the islands.’

  Bai An was like a landscape out of a dream. When they arrived at the little bay an hour or so later, the early-morning mist was starting to lift. The white crescent of beach was walled with crumbling cliffs. The glassy water of the bay was dotted with innumerable small islands, some no more than weathered spires of rock, others large hummocks covered with tropical vegetation.

  ‘I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as this,’ Amy said honestly. ‘I’m not dreaming, am I?’

  ‘I’ll pinch you if you like,’ he invited, parking the venerable Peugeot near a collection of wooden boats. They got out and Anton negotiated with one of the fishermen to rent a boat. The vessel he chose was a comfortable-looking wooden sampan with a high prow, on which two eyes had been painted.

  ‘What an adorable boat,’ she smiled as he reached out his hands to pull her on deck.

  Anton helped Amy aboard, his strong arms lifting her as though she weighed no more than a feather. ‘You approve?’

  ‘I’m honoured to climb aboard!’

  The sampan was in good condition. Her woodwork wore a deep, lustrous varnish. On her high, elegant transom, a little awning offered shade. The sails that were so neatly furled against her mast were a faded red. Down below, her engine was already rumbling like a contented cat.

  The owner threw the mooring rope to Anton. With a word of thanks and a wave, Anton took the wheel and began steering the boat out to the islands.

  Lost in the joy of the occasion, Amy curled up in the seat and just drank it in. With expert ease, Anton steered them through the maze of smaller islands and fishing boats and out to the larger islands.

  A pair of white cranes flapped lazily across their path. Amy had been in the East long enough to know that the birds were auspicious. It was going to be a good day!

  An hour later, she was in a state of bliss. If she had any thought in her mind at all, it was that she had seldom been so happy. Not since her early childhood. It had been the most lovely of mornings.

  She had changed into her bikini and was lazing on the deck, watching the islands drift by through dreamy eyes. The same sun that was baking her semi-naked limbs was making each island glow in shades of emerald and gold. Coconut palms and flowering shrubs hung from the craggy rocks. Their sampan was weaving her elegant way through a world where sea surrounded rock and rock surrounded sea, as if in a beautiful dream. They had all this beauty to themselves. It was as if the whole of nature were theirs on this perfect morning, and they its only inheritors.

  Anton cut the engines and hauled up the red sail, its wooden battens making it look like a butterfly’s wing or a red leaf. They were making their gentle way on wind power alone. It was wonderful to feel the sweet surge of the boat beneath her, knowing that Anton was at the wheel. She glanced at him now. He had stripped to his swimming trunks. The breeze was ruffling his dark hair.

  He was the most magnificent man she had ever seen. There was no way to deny that. His body was perfect, not heavily muscled, yet carved as if by a master sculptor. Success had not changed that lean frame of his one iota; she could see the powerful muscles shifting under his bronzed skin, and his belly was flat and taut. His long legs, braced against the movement of the boat, were those of a long-distance runner.

  She had been comparing all the men she had known to Anton Zell, she realised. None measured up. No man had ever been as intelligent, as amusing, as physically beautiful.

  As if sensing her thoughts, Anton glanced her way and met her eyes.

  ‘I thought you were asleep.’

  ‘Just daydreaming.’

  He pointed to the island ahead of them. ‘That is Hon Giang,’ he said. ‘It’s bigger than the rest and it has its own private beach. We’ll stop there and swim. We’ll be there in a few minutes.’ He smiled that heart-stopping smile of his. ‘You look just like a sleepy cat.’

  ‘Purr.’

  ‘Hungry?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, half-surprised at the sudden rumble in her own stomach.

  ‘We’ll have our picnic on the island. Come here. I want you to see the beach as we come into the cove.’

  She joined him behind the wheel. He slid a strong arm around her shoulders and drew her close to his side. She could not stop the sensuous shudder from running down her spine. His skin was hot and silky against her. The close contact melted her insides so that she felt like a dab of butter on a nice brown piece of toast, just oozing deep into him�
�� She had a sudden vision of the fireflies, released from their prison, escaping into the humid darkness last night.

  ‘There,’ he said. ‘Look.’

  He turned the sampan into the cove. It was completely deserted. A fringe of palm trees shaded the snow-white sands of the beach. The water, as clear and still as glass, was turquoise blue. Gulls wheeled lazily overhead. Apart from the birds, everything here belonged to them.

  ‘This is the loveliest place!’

  ‘Yes.’ His arm had slid down around her waist. His fingers caressed her skin gently. ‘Amazing, isn’t it?’

  Somehow, though she was not aware of doing so, she had rested her head on his broad shoulder. His hot skin burned her cheek. ‘I wish this moment would last for ever,’ she whispered.

  He must have heard her soft voice above the murmur of the sea, because his arm tightened around her. ‘It doesn’t have to end,’ he said.

  ‘Everything has to end.’

  ‘No.’ He kissed her neck gently. ‘Not everything.’

  ‘Anton, stop,’ she pleaded. She was feeling dizzy. ‘We’ve been through this before!’

  ‘And we will go through it again. Until you accept me.’

  She looked at him for a moment, and it was like looking over the edge of a high building. It would be so terribly easy to just let go and fall down, down, down. ‘Accept you as what? My lover and my boss?’

  He looked deep into her eyes. ‘No. I’m offering you something much more than that.’

  Her heart started to race. ‘What are you offering?’

  ‘I’m offering you everything I have, everything I am. I want you at my side, Amy. For ever.’

  The world was spinning around her. Fly too close to the sun, she told herself dizzily, and you won’t just get your wings singed. You’ll burn alive. ‘Anton, I am so ordinary. You will grow tired of me very quickly. And then you’ll regret those words.’

  ‘Do you think you’ll grow tired of me?’ he demanded.

  She could not lie to him. ‘No.’

  ‘Then you feel the same emotions that I do.’

  ‘Anton,’ she said, her voice almost breaking, ‘it’s easy to be infatuated with you. Every woman around you feels it. How can I really believe that you’ve chosen me, out of everybody?’

  His expression grew sombre. ‘Amy, what happened to you? What did you go through that hurt you so badly?’

  ‘Just life.’ She tried to laugh. ‘Let’s have a lovely day in the sun, darling man. And stop trying to get me into bed. You’d probably be so disappointed, anyway. No!’ She laid her fingers on his lips to silence him. ‘Don’t say any more!’ If she had to listen to him a moment longer, she knew her will would melt like caramel. ‘Please, Anton!’

  They were so close to the shore now that he had to concentrate on getting the sampan safely beached and secured with the anchor. The boat finally came to rest among the wavelets that kissed the golden shore.

  They carried the picnic basket and the towels ashore and chose a place in the shade of a flowering hibiscus, whose crimson trumpets nodded over them. The meal that Anton had packed was a simple one—a freshly baked baguette, some pâté, a cooked chicken and a bottle of champagne in an icebox.

  Amy accepted the glass of foaming champagne he poured for her and drank gratefully. The bread was crisp and the cold chicken was delicious. ‘You are a very good provider, Captain Morgan. This is heaven!’

  ‘And all ours.’

  ‘Thank you for bringing me here.’

  When they had finished eating, he leaned over and kissed her mouth lightly. ‘Mmm, you taste of champagne.’

  ‘Because I’m in such high spirits.’

  ‘Oh, dear, that was a feeble pun.’ He smiled at her. ‘Have you noticed that there are wild bananas and mangoes growing on this island?’

  ‘Bananas and mangoes, hmm?’

  ‘And the rocks are full of clams. I could knock a hole in that boat and then we’d have to live here for ever.’

  ‘On wild mangoes?’

  ‘And each other.’

  ‘Wouldn’t we get bored?’

  ‘I would never get bored with you.’ He drew his finger softly down the line of her cheek, his fingertip brushing the delicate corner of her mouth. ‘Kiss me again,’ he invited softly.

  ‘You kissed me,’ she pointed out, mesmerised by his proximity.

  ‘Then it’s your turn.’

  ‘I can’t,’ she pleaded. ‘Even if I wanted to, I can’t.’

  ‘Do you want to?’ he challenged.

  She looked up at his mouth, that mouth she had always thought the most desirable in the world. She felt her heart turn over inside her as she lifted her mouth and kissed him. And then they were in each other’s arms.

  She had been kissed by other men she’d gone out with, culminating in Martin McCallum, who had been the most experienced lover she had known. But this was different. This was like no kiss had ever been. This was so serious that she felt her body melt in his strong embrace, so sublime that her spirit seemed to soar upwards with wonder.

  She could only cling to him. Between kisses, he whispered her name. His mouth was hungry, tasting her eyelids, her temples, the curve of her jaw and sweet line of her throat. Amy knew that nothing in her life had ever been so intense. His body, male and hard against her, filled her with a passionate desire that made her want to devour him, her fingers almost tearing at his muscles, her teeth biting his shoulders, his neck, his lips. But far more than that, there was a spiritual dimension she had only ever encountered in her deepest dreams—the knowledge that it was Anton who was making love to her, Anton, the man she idolised above all others, the man she could never trust.

  It was insane, and yet she was insane right now. Her erect nipples were making scandalous peaks through the flimsy fabric of her bikini top; the sight of them seemed to drive him wild, and when he began pulling her top off she helped him shamelessly, wriggling out of the garment with a husky laugh.

  ‘God, you’re so beautiful,’ he whispered, lowering his dark head to claim her. Her breasts were taut, and his kiss was a torment, made so much worse when his mouth closed around her nipples, his hot tongue caressing roughly, sucking, biting.

  She arched against him, her thighs parting invitingly. She could feel his arousal, hard and male against her body. She reached for him, her hands wickedly eager, and took possession. He groaned, his eyes narrowing to fierce slits.

  ‘Are you sure this is what you want?’ he asked her.

  She did not answer with words, but by lifting her parted lips to his mouth.

  Chapter Eleven

  Now there was no need of questions or answers. She lifted her hips so he could strip off her bikini bottom, then helped him pull off his swimming trunks.

  ‘Anton,’ she murmured as he mounted her naked body, ‘oh, Anton…’

  The rush of the waves and the whisper of the foam made the music that accompanied their lovemaking. She was staring deep into his indigo eyes as he entered her.

  She had dreamed of a wonderful lover so many times, without giving him a face or a name. But she had never met him. Until now. She had never dreamed it could be like this—so gentle, so tender, and yet so powerful. It was as though there, at the edge of the sea, she first realised what her woman’s body was made for.

  All the time that he made love to her, arousing her to ecstasy, he kissed her face and throat, his soft voice telling her how beautiful she was, how desirable, how wonderful. There was a profound rightness about what they were doing, she felt that in her soul. And at the moment they both reached climax tears spilled from her eyes, sliding down her cheeks to wet his face.

  They were both gasping for air at the finish. He gathered her tight against his chest, whispering her name. She held on for dear life, the world still spinning around her.

  ‘I’m sorry if I hurt you,’ he said. ‘Was I too rough?’

  ‘You were perfect,’ she murmured, nuzzling his chest hair blissfully. ‘Just per
fect.’

  He caressed her body tenderly. ‘You’re exquisite, Amy. So beautiful. I’m the luckiest man alive.’

  They drowsed in the shade, cradled in one another’s arms. The sound of the waves lulled them, until the growing heat of midday drove them down to the water to swim.

  The sea was cool and delicious. It was a flawless day, the sky without a single cloud. Amy watched in fascination as shoals of tiny multicoloured fish nibbled at her toes. The world was different now, and she was different. Her body would never be the same again. Nor would her soul. He had touched her as she had never been touched before.

  Anton’s strong arms closed around her, holding her close.

  ‘I’m in heaven,’ she told him.

  ‘Why did you keep me away for so long?’ he asked, kissing her neck. ‘You almost drove me insane.’

  ‘I find it very hard to trust people,’ she said.

  ‘Why shouldn’t you trust me?’ His dark hair was slicked back, his passionate face beaded with droplets. ‘Why should you doubt me?’

  ‘I suppose partly because I couldn’t believe that you really cared about me. I still can’t. And partly because I got the wrong idea about you, right from the start…in Borneo, when you kissed me, I thought you were just out to make a conquest. And then, at work…well, people said things…about Marcie…’

  ‘That I had an affair with her?’

  ‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘And that she had to leave so suddenly because, well, she was expecting your child.’

  His eyes were suddenly angry. ‘Who said that?’

  ‘I can’t tell you,’ she said wretchedly, ‘because you’ll fire the person concerned!’

  ‘Whoever it is, he or she deserves to be fired,’ he said. ‘Is that what they think the clinic is all about? And you believed that?’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Amy said miserably. ‘Anton, I didn’t know what to believe. I was just trying to protect myself!’

  He looked into her eyes. ‘Amy, please tell me you don’t believe that poisonous rubbish any more.’

  ‘I believe in you,’ she said simply.

  He kissed her passionately. ‘Come with me,’ he said, ‘I want to show you something.’ They waded ashore, seawater cascading down their bodies. He led her up the beach and into the green shade of the trees.