Read Online The Russian's Ultimatum by Michelle Smart - Free Book Online
Authors: Michelle Smart
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had to admit she was already revising her opinion of the sun. Beneath the top heated layer, the water in the lagoon was deliciously cool, and she waded out in her flippers to waist height before donning the snorkel and diving under the surface.
What a sight there was to behold. She’d seen so many pictures in the media of coral reefs dying, but here it thrived—blooms of colour in all shapes and sizes, an abundance of fish and other marine creatures, their individual colours and features clearly delineated.
Utter heaven.
Sitting on the ledge earlier overlooking the waterfall, she’d felt a sense of peace. She felt that same tranquillity now. It was just her and the lagoon. Nothing else. Down here, the rest of the world might not exist, and she was going to revel in the feeling. Even if just for a short while.
* * *
Emily’s hut was still empty.
Pascha swore under his breath.
He’d searched the rest of the lodge. He needed to speak to her and she’d done another disappearing act. The only place now he could think she might be was at the waterfall she’d been so enamoured with. It was a good forty-minute walk, which wasn’t the greatest length of time, but with the latest weather developments every second was precious.
Stepping out onto her veranda, he spotted the figure far out in the lagoon. He didn’t even have to blink to know it was her.
Pascha cursed again, descending the outdoor stairs that led to the beach at a much quicker rate than usual.
In an ideal world he would send someone else out to her, but to do so would be to tear a member of his staff away from jobs that were now being undertaken as a matter of urgency.
As soon as he reached the sand, he kicked his deck shoes off.
After far too long standing, waiting vainly for her to notice him, he sat down and stripped off his polo shirt, ready to swim out to her. Except during that small action she’d disappeared from view.
Where was she?
Eyes narrowed in concentration, he scoured the area she’d been but could see no sign of her. His heart thudded harder. Where was she?
And then she emerged feet from the shoreline.
For the briefest of moments, his heart stopped.
Emily was wearing the same modest khaki bikini she’d worn earlier but she’d removed the shorts to reveal brief bikini bottoms. She’d donned a white T-shirt—sensible in this heat; he would give her credit for that—but the water made it transparent, the material clinging to her like a second skin.
He didn’t think he’d ever witnessed such an erotic sight. Her dripping hair was longer than he could have imagined, the water pulling her curls out so it hung in a long sheet down to the small of her back.
Unable to tear his eyes away from the tantalising sight before him, his mouth went dry and heat pooled in his groin.
It wasn’t until she started wringing water from her hair that she noticed him.
Something that was a cross between a scowl and a smile played on her lips as she removed the flippers and headed over to him.
‘Come out to play?’
Mouth dry, he swallowed and shook his head, partly to refute her question and partly to clear it from the haze that had engulfed it.
He wanted to reach out a hand to her waist and pull her down to him. He wanted to roll her onto the sand and...
‘Next time you decide to go out into the lagoon, make sure you let someone know,’ he said in a far harsher tone than he’d intended.
Suddenly he felt furious. He should be in Paris finalising the documents that would make the completion of the Plushenko deal a formality, not worrying about the safety of the woman whose actions had been the catalyst preventing him from being
in
Paris. He certainly shouldn’t be fantasising about making love to her, and
certainly
not right now when there was an emergency afoot.
She eyed him coolly before a tight, emotionless smile formed on her face and, so quickly that he had no time to react, she gathered her thick hair together and wrung it out
What a sight there was to behold. She’d seen so many pictures in the media of coral reefs dying, but here it thrived—blooms of colour in all shapes and sizes, an abundance of fish and other marine creatures, their individual colours and features clearly delineated.
Utter heaven.
Sitting on the ledge earlier overlooking the waterfall, she’d felt a sense of peace. She felt that same tranquillity now. It was just her and the lagoon. Nothing else. Down here, the rest of the world might not exist, and she was going to revel in the feeling. Even if just for a short while.
* * *
Emily’s hut was still empty.
Pascha swore under his breath.
He’d searched the rest of the lodge. He needed to speak to her and she’d done another disappearing act. The only place now he could think she might be was at the waterfall she’d been so enamoured with. It was a good forty-minute walk, which wasn’t the greatest length of time, but with the latest weather developments every second was precious.
Stepping out onto her veranda, he spotted the figure far out in the lagoon. He didn’t even have to blink to know it was her.
Pascha cursed again, descending the outdoor stairs that led to the beach at a much quicker rate than usual.
In an ideal world he would send someone else out to her, but to do so would be to tear a member of his staff away from jobs that were now being undertaken as a matter of urgency.
As soon as he reached the sand, he kicked his deck shoes off.
After far too long standing, waiting vainly for her to notice him, he sat down and stripped off his polo shirt, ready to swim out to her. Except during that small action she’d disappeared from view.
Where was she?
Eyes narrowed in concentration, he scoured the area she’d been but could see no sign of her. His heart thudded harder. Where was she?
And then she emerged feet from the shoreline.
For the briefest of moments, his heart stopped.
Emily was wearing the same modest khaki bikini she’d worn earlier but she’d removed the shorts to reveal brief bikini bottoms. She’d donned a white T-shirt—sensible in this heat; he would give her credit for that—but the water made it transparent, the material clinging to her like a second skin.
He didn’t think he’d ever witnessed such an erotic sight. Her dripping hair was longer than he could have imagined, the water pulling her curls out so it hung in a long sheet down to the small of her back.
Unable to tear his eyes away from the tantalising sight before him, his mouth went dry and heat pooled in his groin.
It wasn’t until she started wringing water from her hair that she noticed him.
Something that was a cross between a scowl and a smile played on her lips as she removed the flippers and headed over to him.
‘Come out to play?’
Mouth dry, he swallowed and shook his head, partly to refute her question and partly to clear it from the haze that had engulfed it.
He wanted to reach out a hand to her waist and pull her down to him. He wanted to roll her onto the sand and...
‘Next time you decide to go out into the lagoon, make sure you let someone know,’ he said in a far harsher tone than he’d intended.
Suddenly he felt furious. He should be in Paris finalising the documents that would make the completion of the Plushenko deal a formality, not worrying about the safety of the woman whose actions had been the catalyst preventing him from being
in
Paris. He certainly shouldn’t be fantasising about making love to her, and
certainly
not right now when there was an emergency afoot.
She eyed him coolly before a tight, emotionless smile formed on her face and, so quickly that he had no time to react, she gathered her thick hair together and wrung it out
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