Читать книгу Three Blind-Date Brides: Nine-to-Five Bride - Melissa McClone - Страница 15

‘OF COURSE. I’ll be happy to hostess the event.’ Marissa spoke the words while panic did its best to get a grip on her.

The business dinner at Rick’s home had been noted in the BlackBerry. Everything went in there and, indeed, Marissa had prepared Rick some information so he could be fully informed before the evening. She’d thought that would be the extent of her involvement. The idea of spending a night working at Rick’s side, in his home, in a whole other setting to the office, where she would see even more parts of him … well, it unnerved her even while her hormones set up a cheering section about it.

Marissa spoke to the other woman. ‘If Rick feels I could be of assistance, I … I’m sure I can cope with hostessing the event.’

Somehow. Maybe. If she managed to get a grip on herself and her thoughts about her boss between now and then. Marissa tried to keep the hope out of her tone as she added, ‘That is, if there’s no one else more suitable, maybe someone else in the family who could take your place?’

‘There isn’t,’ Rick said, squashing that hope quite flat.

A smile broke over Darla’s face. ‘Oh, thank you!’

The woman impulsively threw her arms around Marissa and then turned to her brother and hugged him. He cupped her head so tenderly in his hand as he hugged her back. A fierce well of protectiveness crossed his face before they separated.

Layers. How many more could he possibly have? Now Marissa’s hormones had given up the cheer squad routine and brought out the tissues, going all emotional on her right when she didn’t need that to happen.

‘It’s settled then.’ Rick drew his wallet from his pocket and pulled out some notes, frowned when his sister opened her mouth. ‘I know you like good luck charms. Buy one to wear tonight.’ He gestured to the silver bracelet on her wrist. ‘You’ll find room for it on there somewhere. And get something for Kirrilea—a trinket. And tell her my secretary very kindly laminated that faxed page and I have it on my desk where I can enjoy it.’

Darla’s fingers closed over the money and his hand, and a sheen of moisture came to her eyes before she blinked and turned away. ‘God, I wish our father had half … Well …’ She smiled with a fierce determination that quickly became the real thing as she turned once again to Marissa. ‘Thank you. I hope I’ll have good news after tonight but, even if not, I appreciate the chance to attend the meeting.’

She rushed out of the office at the same frenetic pace she’d entered it.

‘If her speed is anything to go by, she probably does the work of five people and very much deserves a promotion.’ Marissa made the observation lightly when she didn’t feel light at all. But she would be okay tonight. She would.

‘I know she deserves it.’ He murmured the words without appearing to think about them.

There’d been no wedding band on Darla’s finger, no mention of a man in the proceedings and an impression that Darla was alone and turned to her brother for emotional support.

Alone with a sixteen-year-old daughter. Darla hardly looked old enough. And Marissa now wanted to clutch at straws, even though something told her that would be futile. ‘Did you really need me to help you tonight, or did you just want Darla to feel free to chase this job promotion?’

Rick’s eyelashes veiled his expression as he answered. ‘There’s no one else suitable at such short notice.’

‘Right, then I guess that will be fine.’ She would simply maintain her professionalism and make it fine. She could do that. All it would require was a little concentration, a lot of focus and maybe some tranquilliser for the hormone squad!

A phone call came in then. Marissa thought she recognised the voice, but couldn’t place it. When she asked for a name, the caller paused for a heartbeat before saying, ‘Just put me through. I’m returning his call.’

Marissa connected the call.

Rick rose from his desk and closed his door after he answered the call. Super-secret business, apparently.

Marissa got on with her work.

Whatever, anyway. She had more important things to think about. Like tonight!

‘I think Carl Fritzer is deliberately goading you on the topic of environmental issues.’ Marissa directed the comment to Rick and then nodded her thanks to the catering guru as she accepted a platter of artfully arranged biscotti and small handmade chocolates.

The evening was more over than started now, and the three of them stood in the kitchen of Rick’s penthouse apartment. It was a large and lush place—four bedrooms at least and functional in all the nicest ways but, for tonight, Rick had taken everyone outside to the rooftop terrace.

Marissa had fought with herself every step since she’d arrived. She didn’t want to be delighted by his home, nor constantly and utterly aware of him in it. Didn’t want to note that his midnight-blue shirt and black trousers made him look even more Tall, Mysterious and Compelling. She still wanted Ordinary, darn it. She did!

‘I truly don’t understand why Mr Fritzer would do that.’ Focus on work, Marissa. ‘What difference does it make to any possible business dealings between our company and his?’ The stamp of ownership she put on her statement was a whole new problem. Since when had it been the ‘Marissa and Rick team’?

Remember what happened to the ‘Michael and Marissa’ so-called ‘team’? Well, you should!

Marissa forced herself to go on. ‘Morgan’s follows all the codes to the letter and, in a lot of cases, goes a lot further than most companies in its efforts towards environmental friendliness.’

‘The man seems to consider a bit of goading as good entertainment value, but I noticed his colleagues don’t seem to share his enthusiasm for the topic.’ When Rick shrugged, his shirt clung to his broad shoulders, outlined the strength of the muscles beneath the cloth.

There was something different in him tonight when he looked at her, too. She couldn’t pin it down, but he seemed to be weighing her up, or searching for something. He was perhaps softer towards her? More attentive? Interested in a different way?

Some of his examination seemed—she didn’t know—almost empathetic or something? But that made no sense.

What if he was beginning to think of her in a deeper way? Given her determination to steer utterly clear of even noticing him, the thought shouldn’t please her, yet she felt a reciprocal softening towards him.

‘There may be something Fritzer is hiding about his own dealings or standards.’ Rick’s gaze caressed her face and neck as he went on. Did he realise he was doing that? ‘I’ll have a team investigate that possibility before I commit us to any work with the company. I can find out anything I need to know before they get to the stage of an acceptance of our offer of services.’

He hesitated and a combination of unease and knowledge, awareness and that same empathy flared in his eyes again. For a moment Marissa thought he would reach for her, right there in front of the caterer …

‘Is that coffee? Just what’s needed.’ One of the female business delegates strolled inside. ‘Can I help with anything?’

‘I think we have it under control.’ A frown crossed Rick’s face before he lifted the tray of coffees.

Disappointment surged through Marissa and she told herself not to be foolish, forced her attention to the drinks Rick held on the tray.

The lattes bore everything from starfish shapes to mini Harbour Bridges in the foam tops. He thanked the caterer. ‘The rest we can manage for ourselves, if you’re happy to let yourself out?’

The young man scooped up a backpack from the corner of the kitchen. ‘Cheers. It was a pleasure to help you, as always.’ He strode to the apartment’s front door and left.

They returned to the West Australian business delegation of men and women where they sat in big squashy outdoor chairs grouped around low tables.

Rick’s apartment and exclusive terrace took up the entire top level of the building. The formal outdoor dining area seated up to twenty people. They’d eaten there with city views all around them and the lush foliage of the rooftop garden behind them. The sight and scent of flowers and plants and shrubs filled the area. Roses and mint, hardy native shrubs mixed with hydrangeas and mat-rush and Easter cactus.

His home was truly gorgeous and Marissa couldn’t help but appreciate the beauty. He wore his wealth very comfortably here. He’d seemed pleased when she’d first arrived and admired his apartment and surroundings.

It was also a large enough home, and secure enough, that a small family could thrive quite nicely here if necessary. A house with a full garden would be better, of course, but children could enjoy the terrace garden, or be taken to play in the large park right across the road from the building …

Oh, what was she thinking? She had to focus on the business of the evening, not fantasies that were becoming more and more difficult to quash.

‘Well, it’s a lovely evening for a business function and this is the perfect setting for it.’ She caught Rick’s eye and gestured with her hand, but all that did was draw their attention to the fact that darkness had now fallen and, beyond the well-lit terrace, the city lights, Lavender Bay, the Harbour Bridge, and buildings of all shapes and sizes glittered before them.

The setting was romantic. Her hormones had recognised this immediately, even if Marissa had been busy trying not to notice the fact.

Why couldn’t she stop viewing her employer in this way? Stop herself from developing a deeper and deeper interest in him when she knew that doing so was utterly futile? Was it because she felt she knew Rick better now? Somehow, she’d started to trust him as she’d watched him care for his sisters and nieces and saw his business dealings, which were far more frank than Michael Unsworth’s behaviour had been in the workplace, or out of it.

‘Well, here’s the coffee, everyone,’ she called. ‘Actually, it’s coffee art, with thanks to our now departed caterer.’ She pushed the memories of Michael away and tried not to think about her shifting feelings towards her boss. Rick was much more difficult to dismiss than thoughts of Michael, and that knowledge was not comforting.

Rick didn’t want any kind of emotional commitment. He hadn’t said why, but he’d made that fact clear. She suspected it had to do with his father, or his family life generally, but what did it matter in the end? Her boss didn’t want her. Maybe she should simply be grateful he was being honest about that. She started to hand out the drinks.

Rick watched Marissa hostess the small group, chatting as she went, and he thought about her use of the term ‘we,’ as though she felt as invested in the company as he did. He couldn’t forget kissing her, nor reconcile himself to the shift inside him that had somehow been different from anything he had experienced before.

She looked beautiful tonight, all soft curves beneath the golden dress, her hair up and her nape tantalisingly bare. He wanted to press his lips to that soft skin, to somehow pay homage to her.

Thoughts battered at him. She looked right here—in his home. He wanted to keep her here. And other thoughts—of taking her to his bedroom, closing the door on the world and staying there with her until he knew all of her, understood all of her and she’d given all of herself to him. How could he want that when he would never give her the same in return?

Maybe he didn’t want it. Not really. Couldn’t this all be about lust and the confusion of feeling this way towards a woman he was working with and coming to admire in a working environment?

The business talk moved on. Fritzer goaded a little more, and Rick ignored it. He sat at Marissa’s side, his arm stretched across the back of her chair in a gesture he knew was possessive, but he couldn’t make himself stop it. He needed to be near her, close enough to touch even if he didn’t.

Yes. He was in trouble, but he could control it. He must be able to do at least that.

Over coffee, talk turned to what the city had to offer.

One of the women leaned forward. ‘We have half of tomorrow before we leave. I’m wondering what to do with the time.’

‘There’s plenty on offer in terms of entertainment, shopping, whatever you like, really.’ Rick stretched out his legs, stared at the neat crease in the dark trousers. Imagined the gold of Marissa’s dress against the fabric.

All roads led back to it. The fact that he wanted Marissa—still wanted her.

‘You might consider the new animal petting zoo.’ Marissa spoke the words to the other woman. Her gaze met Rick’s and a delicate flush rose in her cheeks as she seemed to wish she hadn’t raised the topic.

She went on, waved her hand. ‘Holding a koala is a unique experience.’

And then he remembered that moment, the trembling of her shoulders and the rush of protective instinct that had coursed through him, had tapped into instincts he’d been ignoring ever since that moment.

‘The koalas smell of eucalyptus oil, don’t they, Marissa?’ Keep it light. That’s all it can be. ‘Did you manage to wash the scent out of that cardigan?’

‘I did get the cardigan clean, and I imagine our overseas visitors probably made good use of a dry-cleaner’s after that visit.’ Marissa lowered her gaze to her coffee cup. ‘We’ve had some interesting moments during my brief time filling in as your assistant.’

Maybe she wanted to remind them both that this wouldn’t last. That soon she would go back to her regular job and he wouldn’t see more of her than a glimpse in a corridor from time to time. Maybe he should be glad she wanted to remind him of that.

Instead, a kaleidoscope of images and moments spent with her bombarded his mind and his senses. Marissa with a hard hat squashed over her curly hair that day on the bridge. Presenting him with a laminated certificate for his niece for completing her swimming lessons. Cursing at the photocopier beneath her breath when she thought he couldn’t hear her.

He wanted Tom back on his feet but the thought of Marissa easing back to the periphery of his working life didn’t sit well with him.

‘We should go.’

‘Yes, it’s been a productive evening.’

‘We’ll take a vote with the full group and you’ll hear from us.’

One by one their guests stood. It took another few minutes for Rick to see them completely out and away.

When Rick closed the door finally on the guests, Marissa moved to the terrace to collect the empty cups and return them to the kitchen. She turned as he joined her.

‘I’ll get the biscotti tray.’ And then she needed to leave, to forget this glimpse into yet another side to her boss.

‘Leave it for now.’ He poured two glasses of liqueur, passed one to her and led her to the edge of the terrace with his hand on her arm.

‘I guess we deserve five minutes to celebrate this evening’s hard work. To enjoy the view now it’s quiet and there’s time to focus on it.’ She couldn’t help the observation that followed. ‘Somehow I’d expected your apartment to be all chrome and black and sharp lines with the view carefully shut outside through long planes of plate glass. The terrace entertainment area surprised me. It’s lovely.’

‘I’m pleased you like it.’ His gaze darkened on her, again seemed to search inside her.

Would he be as pleased to know she’d imagined it being a home to a family? No. He wouldn’t, would he? She lifted the glass and inhaled the aroma of the drink. ‘I smell spices and tea and rum. And vanilla?’

‘It’s Voyant Chai Cream. I think you’ll like it.’ He watched her over the rim of his glass as they sipped.

‘Very smooth.’ She sipped again. Savoured. Tried hard not to think about the war going on inside her body that shouldn’t be going on at all, and especially not where Rick was concerned.

For the first time in her life Marissa was subjected to forces of her own nature, her own hidden needs, which she had never even considered she might struggle to control. She couldn’t seem to stop herself from associating some of those desires with her boss. She forced her attention back to the drink in her hand. ‘It’s delicious.’

‘Yes.’ The single word seemed to wrap around her, be meant for her. All he did was match her sip for sip before he finally set his glass down, tucked his hands in his pockets and looked out over the harbour, and yet she felt his desire for her as though he’d spoken it aloud.

‘It was a good night, don’t you think?’ He glanced at her, the heat in his eyes partially concealed, but very much there. Talked business as they should be doing. ‘Despite that bit of goading, I expect they’ll sign with us for their project.’

‘It was—yes. I believe it was a successful evening.’ She set her glass down with trembling fingers.

The softness of the city night cast his face in clarity and shadows. Just like the man. She had to pull herself together, to play this out the safe way, to keep her focus on their working relationship and not these odd, nebulous things she wanted that she didn’t even know if she could ever have.

She should put herself to sleep or something until she’d passed her birthday, get it behind her so she could realise it hadn’t changed anything, that she was the same inside and she didn’t have to pine for a family of her own.

‘In part, that success is thanks to you.’ He let his gaze roam over her face. ‘I think you captured all of them.’ His hands fell to his sides. She thought he murmured, ‘You captivated me.’

A long beat of silence followed as she fought with herself. Finally she spoke. ‘I should go. Tomorrow is another working day.’ Maybe if she reminded herself of that she wouldn’t respond to him quite so much.

Marissa moved away from the view, from the sparkle of city lights. They stepped inside and she collected her bag from the kitchen. ‘I’ll get the doorman to organise me a cab straight off the rank downstairs.’

‘I’ll take you down.’

‘There’s no need.’ She drew a breath as they paused before his door. ‘Goodnight, Rick. I’m glad I could help. I hope your sister gets the job promotion. I got the impression it would mean a lot if she did.’

‘Darla deserves the break. She’s worked hard for that company for many years, first as a part-timer and working up to full-time once Kirrilea started school.’

‘You’re proud of her. Of your niece, too.’ She faced him before the closed door, searched his eyes.

‘They’re easy people to be proud of.’ Rick reached past her to open the door. His fingers wrapped around the doorknob.

And the tension wrapped right around them, too.

‘Back away from me, Marissa. Tell me not to mess with a perfectly good working relationship. Tell me not to mess with you.’

‘You’ve been different tonight.’ She whispered the words and he braced his feet and drew her into the V of his body.

Her hand lifted to his chest and he kissed her. Pressed his mouth to hers and his body to hers, and pleasure and a feeling rightness swept through her.

‘More.’ He whispered the word.

Marissa lost herself so thoroughly in Rick’s kiss, lost senses and feelings and responses and, yes, emotions, in him. When his lips left hers to trail over her ear to the sensitive cord of her neck, she closed her eyes and let the feel of his body against hers, his hands cupping her head, her shoulders so sweetly, sweep through her.

Could a man’s touch communicate straight to the heart of not only a woman’s senses, but also her soul? It seemed so.

She clasped her hands on his shoulders, curled her fingers around his upper arms and held on. When he skirted his hands up from her waist, over her back, to where her shoulders were bared by the wide cowl neck of the dress, she shivered.

A strained, needy sound passed through his lips. It was the last thing she consciously registered for long moments as they stood by his door, their bodies tightly entwined, her resistance and grand plans in shambles. Her bag lay at her feet. She had no idea when it had landed there.

‘Say my name.’ The words were harsh and possessive, demanding and enervating. ‘I want to hear it. I don’t want you to be thinking of him—’

What did he mean? A chill rushed over her skin and all through her body. She wrenched away from him. ‘What do you know? What have you heard? About that fake engagement I believed was real? About Michael—’

‘Ah, I didn’t mean to say that.’ He pushed a hand through his hair. ‘I had to know why you left your last job, Marissa.’ His eyes were dark and turbulent. ‘The information about your personal life—I didn’t ask for it, I stopped the man when I realised where he was headed with the conversation but by then it was too late.’

‘Right. I see. So you phoned my old company to investigate why I left, and you found out things about me at that time.’ If his gaze softened into pity she would die right there, and now it all made sense. This. This was the empathy he’d displayed earlier.

‘Without meaning to find those things out, yes.’ He seemed to search for words.

Apology. Regret.

Yes, she heard them in his tone but, most of all, she heard that he knew of that embarrassment. He now probably thought she was desperate and on a manhunt. What if he thought she’d set out to hunt him? Mortification, shame and anger crashed through her. She clutched at the anger because the others were too awful to bear.

‘That call. I knew I recognised the voice.’ And Rick had closed his office door and talked about her. ‘I don’t care if you say it was business.’ Her voice shook. ‘I’d started to trust you. I can’t believe I did. What did the man tell you? That Michael Unsworth made a fool of me? What does that have to do with my good record at Morgan’s?’

‘Nothing. I didn’t want that information. I didn’t ask for it.’ He reached for her hand but she drew back.

He went on in a low voice, ‘I’m sorry he hurt you, Marissa.’

‘Well, don’t be sorry because I am totally over the way Michael treated me. I learned from it and I moved on. Was that what this kiss was about? Pity? Tell me!’

He drew a harsh breath into his lungs. ‘You know better than that. I want you in my bed and I have from the first day I had you up on that excuse for a bridge with me. Maybe you should pity me, because I can’t seem to get that desire for you out of my system, no matter what I do.’

Rick’s admission stunned Marissa into silence. More, perhaps, because of the flash of something deeper than desire that burned for a moment in his gaze before he masked it.

Oh, will you listen to yourself, Marissa? Do you want to fall for Mr Corporate a second time?

Rick had just proved his ruthlessness to her!

But he’d also apologised and seemed as though he meant it.

She scooped her bag from the floor. ‘I just want us to work together and get along and I want to follow my well thought out plans for my life in peace. Is that so much to want?’

‘It isn’t. It isn’t too much to want.’ He took a step towards her as she wrenched open the door. ‘Marissa—’

But she didn’t wait to hear what he might have said.

She left.