Keely, Emma and Tahlia work together at a small, trendy design company in Melbourne. They’ve become the best of friends, meeting for breakfast, chatting over a mid-morning coffee and a donut—or going for a cocktail after work. They’ve loved being single in the city…but now three gorgeous new men are about to enter their work lives, transform their love lives—and give them loads more to gossip about!

Dear Reader,

There’s nothing quite like catching up on the office gossip over a cuppa, beside the copier, in quiet whispers, and especially in lieu of work.

The best gossip always includes the three Rs—romance, rumor and ruin. In Taking on the Boss, Tahlia Moran finds herself in the thick of all three. Can she believe all she hears on the grapevine? Can she save the day, the company and herself, before it’s too late?

I loved writing this trilogy with Nicola Marsh and Ally Blake set in wonderful Melbourne. I hope you enjoy this last installment of OFFICE GOSSIP.

Best wishes,

Darcy

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

EPILOGUE

Aries—Your love life has been in a lull. Expect to meet someone new who’ll stir your passions.

No, thank you, I’ll pass.

‘IT’S every girl’s dilemma.’

Tahlia Moran pushed open the front door to their office building, turning and holding it for her friend. ‘What is?’

‘The right timing to get seriously into finding one’s life’s partner, of course,’ Keely said, pushing her handbag strap up her shoulder.

The words hammered right through Tahlia. First the horror-scope and now Keely. Did she have ‘seriously single but feel free to cure me’ tattooed on her forehead?

‘You know,’ Keely offered. ‘It has to be soon or there won’t be any single, straight men left for you. All the good men are getting snapped up.’

Tahlia had to admit her two best friends were doing their bit, going from seriously single to seriously taken in what seemed like a snap. ‘I’m fine. I don’t need anybody just now.’

‘Tahlia—’ Keely moved slowly through the doorway, resting her arm on her protruding belly, full of arms and legs. ‘I know a lot of women just wait for him to appear, like magic. But we do encourage him to turn up by dating, pitiful though it may be, every single man around.’

‘Just in case he doesn’t,’ Tahlia stated dryly, glancing down at her friend, who was a good six inches shorter than her now that Keely had traded in her heels for flats that didn’t add to the swelling she seemed to be experiencing in more places than just her belly.

‘Mr Right turned up for me and Em. He will for you too, but you have to date. It’s a given, an unwritten agreement with Cupid.’

Tahlia let the door go. ‘I’m thrilled for you both, you know that, but I have things to do right now and those things have nothing to do with arrow-wielding midgets or men.’ While a partner was on her to-do list he wasn’t a priority just now. And when it came to relationships she was in uncharted territory—a place she’d rather not be.

Keely sighed. ‘Okay, but he could just appear out of nowhere and sweep you off your feet.’

She didn’t want to be swept; she was thinking more of being quietly and calmly romanced into a sane and sensible partnership that would prove companionable and satisfying for the long term, some time in the future.

‘What does your horoscope say?’

Tahlia tucked her bag tightly under her arm. She’d had quite enough of horoscopes. It wasn’t as if they were always right. In fact, they were hardly right at all…so it didn’t really matter what it said today.

‘Oh, look, there’s George.’ Tahlia veered towards the guard’s desk, sneaking a quick glance at her friend to see if she’d successfully avoided discussing her horror-scope and its nebulous prediction of a certain stirring someone entering her life. ‘I’ve got to thank him for letting me out last night.’

Keely continued across the large marbled foyer towards the lifts. ‘Locked in again, eh?’

Tahlia nodded, straightening her suit jacket. There was only one way to guarantee being the only choice for the position of Marketing Executive and that was to out-work and out-perform everyone else.

There was no doubt she’d get the position when the big boss, Raquel, stopped running around the place trying to tell everyone how to do their jobs, and do hers by finally filling the position.

Tahlia couldn’t help but smile. Raquel’s job would be so much easier once she gave Tahlia the promotion, if only Raquel would get over her fear that Tahlia wanted her job next, rational or not.

‘You know, you’ve got to get out there to find him,’ her friend called across the foyer.

Tahlia stared after her, shaking her head and glancing around her. Trust Keely to share her singledom with the world.

She was well aware of the fact that she wasn’t just going to bump into the perfect man, that she had to go out and find him, eventually, but there were so many more pressing things to deal with first.

First and foremost, she had to secure that promotion. She needed to have job security before mucking around in the dating scene and possibly finding a partner, just in case it didn’t work out.

She wasn’t going to go into any relationship blind, unprepared, naïvely optimistic, or with silly ideas like love was enough.

Her mum had put her career on hold while she had concentrated on motherhood. When things had come crashing down her mother had been left juggling it all, finding out just how hard life was if you neglected sense and relied on love to see you through.

Tahlia was going to wait.

She wasn’t going to be pressured into something she wasn’t ready for just because Emma and Keely were no longer single. She’d wait until after the announcement of her promotion, after she had everything sorted and under control—all bases covered, then she’d handle the man-in-her-life challenge.

Tahlia pulled up at the guard’s station, rubbing the muscles knotted in her neck. ‘Hey, George.’ Tahlia slapped her hand on the counter, shooting him a smile. ‘Thanks so much again for last night.’

‘No problems.’ The greying guard shifted his formidable weight in his seat. ‘Any time for you. They must give you that promotion soon, eh?’

Tahlia nodded, the buzz of her imminent success in climbing another rung coursing through her. ‘Absolutely. It’s so close, George, I can smell it.’

George smiled up at her, his cheeks creasing in full waves of doughnut crescents. ‘Better not to be late, then.’

‘Have a great day.’ She swung around, glancing at her watch, striding forward. George was right. If Raquel was looking for a reason not to promote her there was no way in the world she’d give her the satisfaction.

The job was so hers.

She connected with a wall of warm flesh and the scent of soapy clean male engulfed her.

Tahlia looked down, finding her footing and the guy’s shiny black, very expensive-looking shoes. His suit trousers were black, stretching up long legs that tapered to a nice flat waist.

His soft blue shirt was covered by a black suit jacket that was tailored to perfection, emphasising just how wide the guy’s shoulders were.

His tie was the colour of sapphires…she lifted her gaze…as were his eyes, that met hers with a casual assurance that touched his lips, firm and sensual and full of promises.

Tahlia’s breath caught in her lungs.

She shook herself. She was going to stay focused and on track, no matter how short-back-and-sides, clean-shaven, suit-obsessed, white-collar-cute he looked.

‘Hello,’ he offered, his voice rich and deep, flowing over her like liquid Swiss chocolate. The world tipped.

The man caught her arm, holding her steady, a flash of concern in his gaze. ‘Are you okay?’

His hand was strong, hot and muddling. Blood rushed to Tahlia’s face, filling her head with a blurring that she couldn’t afford right now.

She forced her knees to straighten, strengthen, to not fall for a ridiculous weakness that only happened in a twelve-year-old girl’s dreams.

‘Yes. Of course. I’m fine,’ she managed, lifting her chin and shooting him a smile of cool assurance. ‘Loose heel, that’s all.’

She cast a glance downward to her black heels, willing that one would fall off gracefully and save her from this embarrassment.

His gaze followed, coursing over her suit jacket, down her simple white blouse, over her short black skirt that stopped a good six inches above her knees, down her bare legs to her feet.

His eyes glinted and she had the sudden urge to cross her arms. She felt naked, as though he’d just seen far more of her than he should have. And liked what he saw.

Butterflies swarmed in her belly.

Tahlia jerked her hand up to her face, pushed back her blonde-streaked long fringe and pointed to the lifts. ‘Must go. Love to…’ Die on the spot. ‘But can’t be late for work.’

The cute-suit raised an eyebrow, his blue eyes flashing. ‘That’s it?’

She froze. What? Did he mean to suggest that he was well aware of her disgusting weak-kneed reaction and was expecting her to fall into his arms again? What arrogance!

‘It?’ she enunciated clearly, crossing her arms. What else could he want? ‘As opposed to, what?’

‘An apology.’

‘Oh.’ The sound escaped her throat. Of course he did. Obviously. Manners. Why hadn’t she thought of that instead of jumping to erogenous conclusions? ‘Sorry for—’

His mouth quirked, fighting what looked to be a smile.

She stiffened, her blood heating anew. ‘Sorry for…running into someone who was obviously not looking where he was going.’

‘Either,’ he added, his voice an octave deeper.

‘Either,’ she echoed as casually as she could, hating to concede a point, and more than infuriated at her body’s total lack of sense. ‘Fine, but since you agree that you weren’t looking where you were going either, you could apologise…’

His eyes sparkled. ‘You’re absolutely right, but I was brought up to believe in “ladies first”.’

‘I think that relates to entries, exits and queues, not to apologies.’ She glared up at him. ‘And you have to admit that men need all the practice they can get.’

The man put down his case. ‘Apologising?’

She nodded. ‘It’s really something they don’t do enough of.’

‘Bad day?’ He slipped his hands into his pockets. ‘Has your husband upset you?’

She shook her head, a smile jumping to her mouth. ‘I’m not married.’ Gawd, no. She wasn’t going anywhere near that challenge for a long time.

‘Your boyfriend, then?’

‘No—’ Tahlia took a step back, her stomach fluttering as though there were a thousand butterflies in it. Was he interested, in her? ‘Look, I have to go or I’ll be late and you don’t know my boss—’

He didn’t know her either.

‘She doesn’t let you forget any transgression, no matter how insignificant, and it’s not like she’ll be sympathetic to my bumped-into-a-cute-guy-in-the-lobby excuse, even though she is seriously in need of a good—’

‘You think I’m cute?’

She touched her lips. Oh, damn. That couldn’t have been her. She never babbled, let alone incoherently. She never put her feet anywhere except where she wanted to go.

She pointed to the lifts, opening her mouth, but no words would come out. What in blazes was going on with her?

‘See you around then?’ he offered, his warm mouth fighting a smile that promised to be as amazing as the rest of him.

She nodded, swung around and forced herself to get as much distance between them as possible, counting her steps, measuring her speed to look as little like the hasty escape it was as possible.

What was that?

Tahlia shook her head. She wasn’t going to even think about it. So, the guy was cute and lust was a natural response. She didn’t have to concern herself about a bit of lust and there were so many reasons to lust for that guy.

Deep sexy voice, gorgeous body, tall, commanding and handsome as hell, but she wasn’t about to listen to inappropriate primal urges.

She needed a list of criteria for the most appropriate partner, a conservative, safe plan to dating, a timetable that would fit in with her commitments and work demands. This was not the time to get distracted or fall for anyone willy-nilly.

She stepped into the lift, taking a deep slow breath. What was she even thinking? One thing she was sure of. She was never going to fall for anyone, especially someone like that.

She was not going to make the same mistakes as her mother. No way in hell.

Case Darrington punched the lift button, unable to stop the smile that had crept on to his lips at meeting the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

It wasn’t just her looks. It was everything about her.

The way she’d pulled her short chestnut-brown hair up and back into a wild and spiky knot intrigued him, suggesting a conservative layer covering something untamed underneath.

The large chunk of hair that she left loose could be called a fringe, hanging down and cupping her cheek like his hands itched to.

Her skin had beckoned to him, creamy smooth. Her lips, full and plump like peaches just begging to be tasted. Her eyes, deep dark green, pinning him to the spot.

So much to explore…who was she?

He should have asked her name, should have skipped getting exact directions from the guard and just followed her. He should have kept her talking instead of letting her have her escape without even getting her name, her floor, a glass shoe.

Case put his attaché case by his feet and tried to stop smiling. Hell. She’d floored him, with her eyes, her lips, her words…

Case couldn’t say when he’d last been so flattered so simply. Had watched such a beautiful display of…innocent reaction.

He stiffened. What was he thinking? He wasn’t about to get carried away with any unusual aches in the heart that he’d thought had died on him.

He’d grown wiser the hard way.

The doors opened on the lift and he snatched up his attaché case and stepped in. He wasn’t here for anything but work.

He gripped his case tighter, the woman’s face leaping into his mind, her green eyes sizzling and her full lips taunting him.

Dammit. Why couldn’t life be as straightforward as figures on a balance sheet?

A woman with deep red hair swept into the small space. ‘Hello, handsome,’ she lilted.

Case turned to find fluttering lashes on dark eyes that were drinking him up.

He stepped back. That tone…that look…sent memories flashing through the gashes in his heart.

‘Are you visiting or are you planning to stay around and make all my dreams come true?’ she asked softly, her smile widening, showing teeth.

‘I work here,’ he said bluntly, staring at the lift doors, willing the thing to get to his floor faster. He’d have to look into that. The lift was too slow. Employees needed to get to their floors much faster, especially when accompanied by predatory females.

She waved a hand laden with gold jewellery, the bracelets tinkling. ‘I think I’d remember you unless you have that whole Clark Kent-Superman thing going,’ she purred softly, sidling closer to him. ‘So are you Clark, or are you my Superman? I do love games.’

‘I’m new.’ And he hated games. He’d seen enough games to last him a lifetime. Hell, his ex had been a master at them, playing him in ways he’d never believed possible.

She ran a hand along his jacket sleeve, leaning closer, affording him a generous view of her low-cut blouse and the assets heaving there. ‘I could show you around.’

‘I don’t think so, Miss—?’ He stared at the panel—the floor he wanted was the only one lit. Please let it be a mistake, let her not be working with him…The last thing he needed was a constant reminder of his biggest failure in life to date.

She giggled softly as though she hadn’t heard his denial. ‘Call me Chrystal. And you are?’

The lift chimed.

‘Darrington,’ Case blurted, striding forward.

The doors opened just in time and he kept moving. He couldn’t wait to get as much distance as possible between himself and that man-eater.

He only wished he could escape the memories of his failed marriage as easily.

The Beatles say all you need is love…

I say give me bug spray.

TAHLIA slapped her handbag on to her desk and swept up the files in one deft move, taking a deep breath and lifting her chin, the echo of her babbling bombarding her senses. What was that?

She was never like that. How embarrassing. She cast her eyes to the ceiling. Please let her not be so stupid again.

She glanced around her office, one wall full of filing cabinets, one with potted plants and paintings, one covered in current jobs and timelines and one made of glass with a great view of the lifts.

She shook her head and swept out of the door, striding down the aisle between the cubicles, replaying that débâcle over again in her mind. The floor could have done her one little favour and swallowed her up before she’d made such a complete and utter fool of herself. Cripes. How old was she?

She was far too old to be acting like a schoolgirl, that was for sure. Thank goodness that Emma and Keely hadn’t seen that deplorable display. She had a reputation to uphold. Cool, calm and always in control Tahlia Moran, soon to be Marketing Executive.

She swung into the last cubicle. ‘Morning, Susan,’ she offered, handing the young woman who was just sitting down a file. ‘Could you put some ideas together for this client? They want to change their look to reflect the new season.’

‘Sure.’

Tahlia nodded, striding down the row, doling out the updates for existing clients wanting changes to their websites and the assignments for potential clients.

She juggled the files in her arms. There were things a would-be executive did not do, and one was running off at the mouth in emotionally charged situations. Not that she was admitting there was anything but an overactive imagination and a neglected personal life at the root of that particular encounter downstairs.

Two years since her last real date wasn’t that long, not when she was ensuring a successful career for her future.

She clutched the files remaining. It didn’t matter anyway. Downstairs had been nothing but an anomaly. She wasn’t going to have to deal with that guy, or that abhorrent lack of control again.

‘Hey, you,’ Tahlia offered Emma, stepping into her friend’s cubicle and dropping the files on her desk. ‘Flirt magazine’s next issue—they want their update to match the theme and want another competition page designed and put on the site.’

Emma took the file. ‘Sure thing.’ The glow of love was bright in her eyes. ‘Did you hear? It’s time. Your day.’

Tahlia shook herself. ‘Em?’

‘Haven’t you logged on yet?’ Emma shot her a quizzical look. ‘Raquel just sent out a mass email to everyone for a meeting in the conference room at half past. Sounds like it could be it.’

Tahlia shook her head, kicking herself for not going through her normal routine—checking her voicemail, SMS and inboxes, both cyber and deskbound.

‘And?’

‘And the whispers suggest it’s about the Marketing Exec position.’

Tahlia’s belly fluttered. ‘She’s made a decision? Finally?’

‘Yep, it sounds like the Rottweiler has come through. So you’d better get spruced up.’ Emma tossed her blonde bob, her smile widening. ‘Now you don’t have any excuses not to get out there.’

‘Out there,’ Tahlia echoed, the words ricocheting down her spine, making her skin gooseflesh and the image of that cute-suit bounce around her brain.

‘Out there dating. Sheesh, Tahlia, anyone would think from the look on your face that you’re not keen to find Mr Right.’ Emma clapped her hands. ‘I’ve asked Harry and he has a couple of single mates and Keely says Lachlan is thinking about the possibilities for you too. It would be just perfect if you had someone special to come to my wedding with.’

Tahlia opened her mouth and closed it. What could she say? She had wonderful, interfering, matchmaking-maniac friends who were dying for her to find happiness like they had.

‘May I?’ she asked slowly, gesturing to the keyboard. Could the promotion really be hers today? Could she dare to believe it finally had come?

Emma rolled her chair away from her desk. ‘You have to see it to believe it, right?’

Tahlia stepped forward, clutching the mouse and logging on, clicking her way to her inbox. ‘The wording, the tone, the undertones could all mean so much…’

‘You’re still worried about the rumours that the company isn’t going so well?’

Tahlia glanced at her friend. ‘You know as well as I do that the whispers suggest jobs are to be axed and no one can deny the fears spreading are of a major shake-up or shake-down.’

‘And the latest gossip is that the owners have drawn too much of the cash flow out of the company to fund their overseas romps and WWW Designs is going down, down, down,’ Emma said dramatically.

‘That’s over-exaggeration if ever I heard it.’

Emma nodded, her eyes wide. ‘I know.’

TO: TahliaM@WWWDesigns.com

CC: allstaff@WWWDesigns.com

FROM: RaquelW@WWWDesigns.com

SUBJECT: Meeting

All staff,

Be advised that the meeting at 9am in the conference room is mandatory for all staff to be advised of the latest developments.

Don’t be late.

Raquel Wilson

General Manager

Tahlia sighed. ‘It doesn’t say anything regarding my promotion.’

‘What else could it be?’

‘The possibilities are endless, Em. It could be a new client coming on board, it could be about the rumours, it could be anything.’

‘But it could be your promotion. The Rottie always holds an all-staff meeting for changes in personnel.’

Tahlia straightened Em’s files on her desk. Was there a reason to get her hopes up? Was it about the position for Marketing Executive?

If it was, there was no one else suitable for the job so it had to be her. A bubble of excitement rose up in her chest.

Emma stood up, slapping her on the shoulder. ‘Come on. It is so about your promotion. It has to be.’ She grinned. ‘And now you have no excuse to get serious about that part of your life you’ve put on hold while you got your career all solid and stable.’

A chill raced down Tahlia’s back.

She smoothed down her suit jacket, shaking off the feeling. It would be fine. ‘Yes, not a problem,’ she stated casually to her friend. A relationship didn’t have to mean disaster, as long as it didn’t involve rash decisions, irrational emotions or incredibly embarrassing interactions with too-cute guys.

‘You don’t sound so sure.’

Tahlia raised her eyebrows, forcing a smile to her mouth. ‘I’ll handle it like I’ve handled everything—with criteria, a plan of action and safeguards.’

You could never have too many safeguards, as her mother had shown her. Her mother hadn’t considered any were necessary, that love was enough…and it was so not enough.

‘O-kay,’ Em offered, shooting her an odd look, moving out of her cubicle. She glanced at her watch. ‘So are you ready for the meeting?’

‘Absolutely.’ She was ready for her dream to come true and Em was right—what else could it possibly be about?

Nothing she couldn’t handle.

Tahlia pushed open one of the conference room doors and slipped inside with Emma behind her, weaving through the throng of people, keeping to the wall side of the large room.

She concentrated on the acceptance speech that she’d been practising for months and not on the expanse of glass and views of Melbourne on the far side.

She looked behind her but couldn’t see Emma.

Her stomach churned with butterflies. This was going to be the highlight of her year and she damned well deserved it. Why Raquel had waited until now was beyond her.

This was it.

She smiled and her mind filled with all the congratulations that everyone would offer, the sweet proof that Raquel acknowledged her skills and her potential, the incredible thrill of telling her mother she’d finally made it another rung up the ladder.

Raquel cleared her throat, dropping a large folder on the table.

The room fell silent.

‘Okay. Thanks for coming, staff,’ she said in her trademark nasal bellow. ‘Of course you all know that the position of Marketing Executive has been open for some time and is long overdue being filled. I am pleased to announce that a decision has been reached—’

Tahlia held her breath, searching the crowd for her best friends, finding friendly faces with smiles as wide as her own must be.

Emma had been right. This was it—her dream realised, her goal achieved, vindication for endless overtime and a landmark achievement that would ensure that she’d never have to do it hard like her mother.

So what if Emma was getting married and moving to New York to a new job with the love of her life and Keely was taking maternity leave—she would have her promotion.

She swung her attention back towards Raquel.

Sapphire-blue eyes caught hers.

Her heart missed a beat.

It was him.

The cute-suit looked taller, dwarfing the staff around him at the head of the table near Raquel the Rottie, standing out all the more in that tailored black suit, the strong lines of his face resembling more a Greek god than…was he an employee of WWW Designs?

What was he doing here? She hadn’t heard of anyone being taken on lately, especially a tall, dark and devastating thirty-something.

‘Let me introduce to you our new Marketing Executive…’ Raquel paused for effect, shooting Tahlia a tight smile, sweeping her hand past Tahlia to the cute-suit. ‘Case T Darrington.’

Tahlia’s heart slammed against her chest and sank to the pit of her belly where all the butterflies dropped dead, adding to the weight.

Her vision blurred, her throat closing over. It couldn’t be. No. It wasn’t possible. There had to be a mistake.

Not him.

Not anybody.

It should have been her!

Raquel put up open arms, her smile wide, avoiding meeting Tahlia’s gaze. ‘Welcome to the great team here at WWW Designs.’

Tahlia dragged in a slow ragged breath, fighting the sting behind her eyes. How…?

The man behind Raquel sidled out into the open, putting his hands up and rotating slowly like a prize-fighter who’d just knocked out the competition. And he had. Effortlessly.

Her.

All men are created equal.

But what about women? And are we talking sexism here or feminism-gone-crazy? Has Raquel hired this cute-suit because there are just too many women in the company? Or just because she doesn’t want me?

CASE moved to the head of the table, smiling at the new faces around him, taking in the pause after Raquel’s announcement, the hesitant applause, the expressions being cast from face to face.

It was to be expected. They had probably figured the position would be filled in-house by someone they already knew who wouldn’t question or threaten their way of doing things. And he’d just thrown them out of that comfort zone by being thrown into the mix.

A new face. A loose cannon. Someone who they weren’t sure of. If only they knew.

‘Thank you, Raquel,’ he offered the woman who the vision-from-the-lobby had mentioned earlier.

And then there she was, in the audience. He tore his gaze from her, the fact that she worked for him sending warning signals.

‘Hello, everyone,’ he said smoothly, moving up beside Raquel. ‘I’m thrilled to be here and look forward to working with you all. I hope in the coming days to meet you all personally.’

Case glanced towards the beauty again; her face was a mask of professional curiosity. He straightened his tie. Yes. It was time to get serious. He wasn’t here to get distracted by a pretty face. He was here to sort out one-hell-of-a-mess.

The challenge was what he needed, had needed since his marriage breakdown, and he’d excelled at finding them. He’d gone out of his way to be involved in the most complicated business deals, play the most exacting sports and pursue the most beleaguered companies.

Since his marriage, women were the one area where he went for simple. Easy, light liaisons with pretty socialites thrilled to be on his arm.

Case scanned the room. WWW Designs was in a perfect mess too. Enough to keep him in busy excuses for not having time for a personal life. And enough to redeem himself for the tragedy his marriage became.

Hell, the look on his parents’ faces when he had told them it was over had been the worst part of the whole affair. They prided themselves on their thirty-five years of respectable and spotless marriage, had wished him the same fortunate alliance—the only blemish now was their only child’s marital failure.

It was years ago now, but he still hated the feeling of disappointing them.

Case shook his hands out from the balls they’d curled into. He fixed a soft smile to his face and took a breath. ‘I’ve heard great things about the team here at WWW Designs and I’d like to say that I’m very keen on hearing your ideas on making improvements, not only in your department, but to make this company even greater.’

Raquel moved forward. ‘Thank you, Mr Darrington. I’m sure everyone can’t wait to share their thoughts with you,’ she barked, shooting a hard look around the room. ‘And I’m sure you’re eager to get started.’

‘That I am,’ he said, running his eyes over the crowded room, resting on a pair of very fine green eyes.

‘Wonderful. Great. Then let’s get on to housekeeping. Tahlia, where are we at on hooking the contracts for the private schools’ websites? Mr Darrington, this is Tahlia Moran, Director of Sales.’

Tahlia Moran, aka The Beauty, stepped forward, her shoulders thrown back, her chin high, a chilling blankness in her green eyes that pierced his own for a moment.

Case tossed her name around in his head. It suited her…sweet like her voice and her reaction to him, and strong like the way she held herself and that look.

What was with that look?

She swung her focus to Raquel Wilson. ‘We’ve submitted our ideas to the various schools that were looking and are awaiting their respective decisions,’ she said in a cold, lifeless monotone.

His gut tightened.

The woman he’d bumped into downstairs had glowed with such passion that he could imagine clients swarming towards her like bees to spring blossoms.

What was going on in the office to cause such a turnaround in her? Case scanned the room. How many others here were having their enthusiasm sucked out of them? And by what?

He had to find out.

The company’s future success could hinge on him sorting it out—and he knew just where to start. With a tall, dazzling mystery that begged to be explored.

He just wasn’t sure whether he should.

Tahlia stared at her computer screen, willing the words to clear so she could read her mail and get on with the job she still had.

TO: TahliaM@WWWDesigns.com

CC: KeelyR@WWWDesigns.com

FROM: EmmaR@WWWDesigns.com

SUBJECT: A crazy crazy world

Missed you at the end of the meeting. I expect you needed some space. Gawd, Tahlia. I’m so sorry.

There must be some reason the Rottie chose that creep over you. Maybe there’s something going on with them—he is rather cute for a creep.

I think the world has gone crazy. First your promotion goes to some total stranger and then Chrystal. I just had the weirdest talk with her about men. No. Not about size. Or quality. Or quantity. She was asking my advice on how to land Mr Right! Freaky, huh? I guess our office nymph has decided, finally, that she wants more than just sex from men.

What do you think Darrington’s T stands for?

Tyrant?

Em

And if you need to talk, or scream or yell or cry, I’m here for you, sweetie.

Tahlia threw herself back in her chair, staring at the ceiling. Yes, the guy was a creep, sauntering into the building, flaunting his good looks, great suit and that sexy mouth and sharing that oh-so-deep voice.

Acting as if he was just anybody when innocent hard-working employees bumped into him was wrong, and totally inappropriate behaviour in the circumstances.

The nerve of the guy to meet her gaze in the meeting, all warm and soft, as though he was naïve and innocent and ignorant to the fact that it was her promotion he’d stolen.

He didn’t need the job. With a suit that expensive it was surprising he was working at all. He probably had a silver spoon stuck well and truly up his—

She slammed a fist on her desk. He probably wasn’t even qualified, had probably figured there was nothing wrong with using his wealth and connections to jump over hard-working employees on his ruthless climb to the top.

She’d hardly heard his acceptance, but had seen him smiling at her, as though his stealing her job wasn’t enough, that he had to rub salt deep into the wounds of her dashed hopes and dreams.

Bastard. After she had been so stupid and babbling and stupid downstairs.

Gawd. He was her boss now. He was probably going to sack her…especially after what she had said about Raquel…unless he had already told Raquel. Then that was it, she was dead—the Rottie would eat her alive!

How could she have messed this up so badly?

How could she have failed?

Everything had been going so well. She’d had everything under control…How could she not have twigged that the Rottie was interviewing other candidates for the promotion she desperately wanted?

Tahlia cringed. How could she have let her mouth run away with her with the one person who should have seen her as absolutely together?

At least she’d reported the update without revealing a shred of the turmoil that raged within her. She was well practised at keeping it all deep inside.

Dammit. Her mother hadn’t let anything get in her way to the top—not her grief, the rumours, motherhood, her limited education, nothing.

She straightened the photo on her desk of her mother in her favourite power suit with her arms crossed and chin up.

It had taken her mother over a year to save up enough for that suit. Tahlia had watched her come home from the supermarket every day, take off her uniform, make dinner and then iron, and study and iron, and go to night school and iron.

Her mother had said her power suit was forged by iron, and was therefore even more charged to give her the boost in business she needed.

Her mother had taught her about goals and strength and determination and, dammit, she wasn’t going to just give in.

She was a professional, like her mother, and she was going to hold her head high and deal with what life threw at her. Hell, she was used to it. Life had thrown a few big ones their way and they’d not only survived, they’d got stronger.

Even the rumours about Tahlia’s dad hadn’t stopped her mother—if anything they had driven her. Her mother’s passion had inspired Tahlia…and Tahlia was not a quitter like her father. She was a winner, a survivor, and totally in control of her own life…and its surprises.

She’d survive this like she had survived everything else in her life to date—she just didn’t know how to tell her mother…

Tahlia picked up a pen and stabbed the notepad in front of her. Damn that man. Damn Raquel. Damn the world.

How could this happen…right when she was going to prove that she’d be okay, that she was somebody too, that she’d made it?

Life wasn’t fair.

Who was that man?

Sammy’s, their local coffee shop, was busy in the afternoons but perfect for the quick after-work drink Tahlia and the girls had before they headed home.

Sammy’s was mandatory to catch up on the weekend goss if they hadn’t got the chance at work. Most days they’d go the entire day and not get to talk, depending on their work commitments, like the rest of today.

Although Tahlia had to admit she hadn’t been so much working as hiding in her office, smothering her thoughts with work rather than trying to make sense of this disastrous turn of events.

She pushed open the coffee shop door, glancing at her watch. She was late. Maybe late enough for the girls to be totally focused on the wedding or the baby shower and to have forgotten entirely about her lack of promotion.

She didn’t want to talk about it. She wanted to forget it had happened, try to recapture that naïve innocence and faith she’d had this morning that it was imminent, not an ‘if’ but a ‘when’ and she was the success she wanted to be.

Tahlia weaved through the tables. She definitely didn’t want to talk about it until she knew what in heavens she was going to do about it.

Keely and Emma were leaning over their usual table, looking up at the same time, as though they’d picked her up on some radar.

‘I’m so sorry, honey,’ Emma said, gathering up the photos of wedding cakes and a couple of dozen letters that were probably more of the RSVPs she’d been checking off her guest list for the last week. ‘About the promotion.’

Tahlia slid into the seat at the booth, gesturing for Andy, their usual waiter. ‘It’s nothing. A slight hiccup. I’ll be fine.’ She wished she could feel as fine as she hoped she sounded.

‘Darrington is one hell of a hiccup.’

Tahlia shook her head, swallowing hard. ‘So your baby shower is next week—’ And then she’d be abandoning work for putting her feet up and focusing on her future, her baby, her husband and her new house.

‘And you’re avoiding the subject. What are you going to do about the new suit in the office?’ Keely asked, tipping her head.

‘Nothing,’ Tahlia said as casually as she could, shrugging. ‘I’m going to ignore him.’

Emma tapped her pile of stuff into symmetry. ‘That may be a bit difficult seeing as he’s your boss.’

‘And he’s cute as,’ Keely added.

‘I’m a professional.’ And there was no way she wanted to see the guy again after their mortifying first meeting, let alone the fact he’d destroyed her dream.

Keely leant forward in her seat, her hand resting on her bulge. ‘So you’re telling us that you haven’t noticed how nice-looking he is?’

She shook her head vigorously. ‘No.’ She wished she’d known who the guy was from the start so she hadn’t allowed her body to buzz around in flights of fancy. ‘I don’t find that sort of clean-cut chiselled features, tailored-suit sort of guy attractive at all.’ Now.

Today was just another good reason to avoid men altogether—they were trouble. They took what you wanted and ruined your life.

Emma drained her cup. ‘So what now?’

‘I get on with my job,’ Tahlia said coolly, raising her eyebrows and giving a soft shrug. What else could she do?

‘If we still have one,’ Keely offered, flicking cookie crumbs from the table in front of her. ‘Rumour has it that the owners are selling up WWW.’

‘That one has been going around for ages,’ Tahlia retorted, fighting the ache in her belly. It couldn’t happen, not to her workplace, her future…

Keely got up, picking up her coat. ‘I’ve got to go…home to Lachlan—gosh, I still can’t believe my luck.’

‘You deserve it,’ Tahlia offered, grabbing her friend’s hand and giving it a quick squeeze. ‘And more.’

Emma shoved her wedding stuff into her large bag. ‘You know you could start looking around for another job?’

Tahlia shook her head. ‘I’ve got too much invested here.’ And she’d rather walk on hot coals than admit failure, especially to her mum. She was going to get that promotion even if she had to wait another year for it.

‘But don’t feel bad that you’re running off to the Big Apple.’ Tahlia slapped the back of her hand to her forehead dramatically. ‘Leaving me all on my own to battle the Darrington disaster.’

Emma laughed. ‘You’ll do just fine.’

Tahlia nodded, forcing a smile to her face. ‘Of course. Always.’ She was always fine. She had been fine when her father had died, fine when her mother had gone to work, fine when she’d come home to an empty house, fine when her mother hadn’t made it to her graduation, her birthdays or their lunch-dates, and she was fine now.

She could handle Darrington all on her own. She’d find out who the man was and what he’d done so that she could explain how he could get her job promotion—to herself and to her mother.

Maybe he just had better luck than her. She bit her bottom lip. Maybe she should get a few charms to be on the safe side, to cover all bases, to ensure her success.

She’d do anything to get where she wanted to go. She was a professional.

Everything in life has a price.

And I never know what it is until it’s too late.

CASE sat in the large leather chair and surveyed his new office again. He couldn’t quite believe he was here.

He’d spent all yesterday calling in employees, talking to them, encouraging them to tell him just how much they did in the company and how much more they could do, given the right incentives.

Work was going well.

This was going to be good for him. It reminded him of where he’d been six years ago, took him back to simpler times, when he still believed in so many things, including love and marriage.

Framed prints hung on the walls, large ferns sat in the corners looking as if they were in need of a water or a wax—he never could tell if indoor plants were fake or not—the sofa in the corner was cream with tan cushions that matched the rug under the glass and chrome coffee table.

The place could do with a makeover, as one of the employees had suggested, to improve morale. He’d have to look into it. And Miss Tahlia Moran.

Case snatched a pen from the desk, slapping it into his palm. No. There was no mystery to unravel. Nothing to explore except how to get this office dynamic working to its highest potential.

The only responsibility he had was to the company. So what if she’d vanished during the meeting yesterday, somewhere after her report and the general housekeeping.

He stabbed the pen into the file on his desk. He wished she’d left his thoughts as easily. He couldn’t stop wondering about her and that lack of light in her eyes.

He’d half thought of calling her into his office yesterday but had caught himself. There was no rush here—he could take his time to investigate the office politics, the hierarchies and issues at WWW. Besides, he would run into her eventually. They were on the same floor.

But he hadn’t yesterday.

Was she avoiding him? He rubbed his jaw. She could easily be. Women were strange creatures. She could be put out that he hadn’t mentioned his position to her when he’d bumped into her. But dammit, he hadn’t wanted anything to interfere with her first impressions of him. It was so rare for him to have people see him as himself.

For once in his life he just wanted to be Joe Anybody.

Much good it had done him. He was her boss now, and the cool professional look she had cast him across the boardroom yesterday had said it all.

‘Mr Darrington,’ Miss Moran offered, tapping on his door. ‘You wanted to see me?’

She stood tall with high black heels, black trousers that held her curves and a white shirt with the top buttons undone, giving the hint of a lace undershirt.

His blood heated.

Her hair was in the same wild knot as yesterday, her lips were pursed, her green eyes cool and assessing, a finely arched eyebrow quirking as though she was not impressed to be here.

‘Yes.’ Case cracked his knuckles. He’d spent the last twenty-four hours trying to work out why it mattered so much what she thought of him…

He moved around his desk, extending his hand, offering it to her. ‘Case.’

She nodded.

‘And you are Tahlia Moran, Director of Sales,’ he suggested lightly.

She raised her eyes to meet his. ‘Guilty,’ she said, striding forward and taking his hand.

Heat sizzled up his arm. ‘Nice shake, Miss Moran.’

She pulled her hand from his smoothly. ‘Ditto, Mr Darrington.’

‘Call me Case.’

Tahlia stepped back. ‘I have to say…before…downstairs…you caught me off-guard. I’m usually quite…sane.’

‘O-kay,’ he murmured, watching the rise of colour in her cheeks. Was she embarrassed?

His body buzzed at the thought. Did she like him? Had she felt the heat between their palms too? Had she felt that buzz yesterday when they’d collided?

Was that why she was so upset that he was her boss—because she felt the electricity between them but maybe had her own rules for not getting involved with workmates?

Hell, he had the same ideals. But if there could be one person he’d compromise his rules for it would be her, and that incredibly sweet innocence that she’d just bubbled with yesterday morning.

Now he’d never know…anything she said would be sugar-coated for ‘the boss’.

Case straightened his tie. He was giving himself a headache. There was only one way to find out what was going on with Tahlia Moran and put his mind at rest…

He just hoped he liked the answers.

Tahlia glared at the man standing behind her desk in her office with her title as casually and comfortably as though he owned the place. ‘If we could make this quick, Mr Darrington, I have work to do.’

He lifted an eyebrow. ‘Would you like a coffee?’ he asked, reducing the distance between them. ‘I’m just on my way to the kitchenette.’

‘Fine,’ she bit out, stepping well back for the man to pass by. She didn’t want to be anywhere near the guy, let alone touch him again.

She swiped her hand against her thigh, trying to dispel the tingling in her palm.

He stopped beside her. ‘Ladies first,’ he said smoothly, gesturing the way for her.

‘Fine.’ She sauntered down the hall, her breathing short and shallow, her hands clenched tightly at her sides. The promotion-stealer had to remind her of yesterday morning’s embarrassment!

Wasn’t it enough that he’d started throwing his weight around? Meeting everyone under him and convincing them he was interested in their ideas.

Jerk.

So, it was a great idea, not only to meet his staff but to get friendly and supportive…especially since he was a stranger coming in, but if he was thinking it was going to be easy to get on her good side he had another think coming.

Tahlia pushed open the door on the kitchenette and stalked across the room to get as much distance between them as she could. ‘So what can I do for you, Mr Darrington?’

‘Call me Case,’ he said again smoothly, striding to the coffee pot and picking it up with one hand, plucking a mug from the rack with the other. ‘How would you like it?’

She crossed her arms over her chest, resisting a reaction to his casual friendliness, his supposed humility in the face of his superior position, the ease with which he brandished the coffee pot as though it was natural to him to make his own.

Tahlia stiffened. ‘How would I like it?’ Pretending to be just another workmate was not going to get him anywhere with her. ‘I think honestly and straight down the line,’ she said evenly. ‘No sugar-coating or fluffy padding would be nice.’

‘I meant your coffee, but okay…’ He smiled, his blue eyes gleaming at her.

Tahlia swallowed down the flutter in her belly. Snap out of it. So he was in a kick-arse deep blue suit that hugged his body like silk to pillows. So his eyes smiled as sexily as his mouth. She was not going to make any mistakes today. ‘Black, no sugar.’

Darrington nodded. ‘I need to know all about my staff. My team. I’m reliant on them to make or break this company,’ he said, splashing the coffee into her mug and sliding it down the bench to her.

She halted its progress, cupping the mug in her hand. ‘It sounds like you’re aiming at Raquel’s job next,’ she said slowly. He couldn’t take that off her too… ‘A little ambitious for the first week, aren’t you?’

He put the coffee pot back, poured some milk in his mug and added three spoons of sugar. ‘I like to aim high. I like to push my staff to their potential and I like to succeed.’

She nodded tightly. WWW Designs sure needed that sort of attitude, that optimism and drive…but from her, not some interloper!

Case Darrington sipped his coffee. ‘So what do you have to offer, Miss Moran?’

She paused, her nerves rippling their response down her spine and settling deep in her belly. ‘My track record speaks for itself, Mr Darrington,’ she bit out. She’d be damned if she was going to spell out her worth to a man who had undermined it.

He leant against the counter, his attention fixed entirely on her. ‘I want to hear it from you.’

Tahlia took a deep breath. ‘Well, that’s all well and fine but I’m a busy woman. I really don’t have time to list my skills, my achievements and my worth to this company to somebody who can’t be bothered reading my file.’

His mouth fought a smile. ‘You’re not scared of me?’

She took a gulp of the coffee and looked pointedly at her watch. ‘No.’

‘Not even wary?’

‘No.’

He crossed his arms over his wide chest. ‘Aren’t you worried I’ll fire you for your lack of respect for authority?’

Tahlia shrugged. ‘If you can’t see my worth from reading my file, by what I do around here, then I’m better off somewhere else.’

He nodded slowly, his mouth fighting a smile. ‘You are absolutely right.’

She met his sapphire-blue eyes warily. ‘I am?’ What was he up to? It had to be something…

‘Yes.’ He picked up his mug and walked to the door. ‘Maybe we can discuss any ideas you have…over lunch some time?’

‘Ye-es,’ she said slowly. She had a lot of ideas to improve the place that Raquel hadn’t seemed to want to hear despite numerous discussions, letters, memos and slip-anonymous-suggestions-on-to-her-desk attempts.

It would be nice to have someone who was actually open to improvement rather than just wanting to keep doing things the way they had always been done because it was her way.

Tahlia surveyed the man in front of her. Did the Rottie have any idea what this new guy was up to? She couldn’t wait to see her face when Darrington brought her his recommendations to change her system.

She caught herself. Darn it. He wasn’t meant to be like this, all competent and businesslike and friendly. He was meant to be an insensitive jerk who didn’t really care about anything but his own career.

He was…nice, and behaving like one hell of a good boss—if she could trust him. Huh. Like that would ever happen. Tahlia Moran was never going to trust a man.

She wasn’t about to weaken, not when so much depended on her being strong, sensible and in control.

‘So I’m guessing you’ll want to meet to discuss new markets, existing clients and what my team’s ideas are to advertise our services?’

Case Darrington shook his head. ‘Not a priority for me just now,’ he offered casually, and left.

Tahlia stared after him. Not a priority? He didn’t want to know about it? What on earth was wrong with the guy? Didn’t he have any idea what his job was?

She swung to the sink and tipped the rest of her coffee down the drain and rinsed her cup. This was such a stuff-up!

How could he have been put in that position, her position, if he wasn’t going to do what was needed?

She strode to the door, her blood hot, her body tense.

This wasn’t her failure; it was Raquel’s. She was the right person for the job…a mistake had been made. She just had to prove it.

So the new guy thought he was God’s gift to the office with his smooth deep voice, friendly act and dazzling blue eyes? So he enjoyed toying with her and watching her embarrass herself?

So Case Thieving Darrington liked playing games? She could play a few of her own to find out what she needed.

He wouldn’t know what hit him.

They say it’s lonely at the top.

I say it can be lonely anywhere.

CASE glanced at his watch. What time did they take lunch here? He ran a hand through his hair. He had no idea.

He’d tried to play it cool by waiting, taking his time, attempting to talk himself out of taking the woman to lunch over the last two days, but it was impossible. Everyone he talked to had something to say about Tahlia Moran’s dedication and commitment to her work…

He’d cracked and sent an invitation to lunch to her this morning.

He had to know more about her than the snippets he’d picked up in conversation around the office.

It wasn’t enough.

There was enough information to go either way. Her dedication to her work intrigued him, her confidence teased him and her beauty tortured every inch of him. But he could be wrong…like with Celia, his ex…and Tahlia’s dedication could well border on obsession, her confidence narcissistic and her beauty only skin-deep.

Tahlia’s reluctance to pander to him or his ego fascinated him. Her forwardness, her bluntness, her total lack of pretence appealed to something in him. What, he didn’t know…

He couldn’t afford another mistake. For his parents’ wavering belief in him as much as his own reluctance to go through anything like Celia ever again.

So what was he doing? Playing with fire…

He stood up and strode to the floor-to-ceiling window and stared out at the Yarra river and Melbourne’s city sprawl on the other side.

Hell, he needed a breath of fresh air in his life. He deserved one after what Celia had put him through.

Celia had been amazing in the beginning, sweeping him off his feet with her calm assurance and big smiling eyes into a whirlwind marriage that had torn through his savings, his illusions and his heart.

He could have gone on for years, trying to make it work, pushing her to see a counsellor with him, attempting to recapture the magic of those early days. Her spending hadn’t mattered. He had been making enough to fund her passion for designer clothes, shoes and jewellery.

All he had wanted was for her to love him again.

He hadn’t known what he’d done wrong.

Hadn’t known what to do next.

He’d gone home early that day to beg for her help in saving their marriage, rekindling the magic, sharing in finding the solution that eluded him. What he’d found was Celia sharing herself with some bronzed stud in their bed.

Case closed his eyes, the image scored in his mind. He was a fool. Even then he would have tried again, would have burdened the blame, just to get her to want to save their marriage as much as he had wanted to.

She hadn’t. She’d wanted a divorce, half of what was left of his assets and to be rid of him.

Thanks to several savvy lawyers involved in their pre-marital agreement, she’d only got two out of three.

Case ran a hand through his hair, cringing. It was nearly a year since the divorce had finally been settled. Logic suggested it was long enough to get on with life, but the wounds he bore still ached deep in his chest.

The betrayal was going to take longer to get over and he was strong enough to ignore Tahlia’s lush peach lips, those dazzling green eyes, her sweet voice and intriguing focus on business.

The knock startled him. Case turned. Tahlia Moran stood at his door in a short black skirt that showed just how long and shapely her legs were, the slight curve of her hips and her narrow waist.

Her hands were on her hips, her lips pursed. ‘Ready, Mr Darrington?’ she lilted, her voice sweet as apple blossom.

Maybe not. Case swallowed hard, pulling at his tie and straightening it, his blood roaring hot and fiery through him.

He couldn’t deny he was attracted. But he didn’t need to take any risks. He could keep it light. Keep it simple. Get to know the woman, with no strings and no complications.

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