Three Blind-Date Brides: Nine-to-Five Bride
Once there, his gaze seemed to have a will of its own, roving constantly over her face and hair, the nape of her neck, the hands that moved with such speed and efficiency over the computer keyboard. He wanted those hands on him.
No. He did not want Marissa Warren’s hands on him. Yet there was something between them. It had been there from the moment they’d met at the bridge this morning and he’d let her come to the most predictable conclusion about Julia because of that.
Now he wanted to explain, wanted her to know he was free—but he wasn’t, was he? Not to get involved with his temporary secretary, or any other woman who wanted more than a casual physical interlude with him. He’d made his choice about that.
‘Do I like hard work?’ Her gaze flipped up to his. Almost immediately she veiled the sparkle in her eyes. A shrug of one shoulder followed. ‘I guess I like to think I’m as efficient as the next person and there seems a lot to be done in this office at the moment. Or perhaps it’s always this busy?’
‘Tom and I work hard, but there’s more to contend with right now than is usual, even for us.’ To move his gaze from her, he shifted it to a photo of an older couple that she’d added to her desk. The woman had curly hair, cut shorter. Her parents …
Was she an only child or did she, like him, have siblings? An intriguing-looking laminated sheet covered the left half of the desk. Much of it had work strewn on top but the bits he could see appeared to be cartoon cuttings.
Her foibles and family history shouldn’t interest him. Another sign of trouble, and yet still he stood here, courting time with her when both their interests would be better served if he didn’t.
‘Will it be a problem for you to work longer hours for the next few days?’ That was what he really needed to know. ‘Is there someone at home who’ll mind?’
Marissa’s answer was only relevant to him in terms of how it impacted here.
Except his body stilled as he waited for her response, and that stillness had little to do with concerns about his working life.
‘Tom has welcomed the longer hours because he and Linda are saving to buy a house.’ The words left his mouth in an explanation he hadn’t intended to give. ‘He’s used to my ways and knows his way around this office. He copes.’
‘I can manage any work Tom would have done.’ She spoke the words with her chin in the air. An answer, but not all the information he had wanted.
‘I don’t doubt that.’ He wanted her to know he thought well of her. Wanted her to … think well of him. The last time he’d experienced this particular care about another’s opinion of him, he’d been twenty years old and convinced he was in love, until the girl had started talking about the future—theirs—and he’d wanted to run a mile.
Just like his father, except Stephen Morgan was in a family and he did his running a little differently. Rick hadn’t even tried for a less than overt approach. He’d got out of that relationship so fast he’d probably left the girl spinning and he’d avoided commitment ever since.
‘I’m not … tied to any home responsibilities.’ Marissa offered this information cautiously, as though she’d prefer not to have given it.
‘Then I won’t worry too much if I do have to ask you to work extra hours.’ Rick stared into the warm brown eyes fixed unerringly on him and the moment stretched out, expanded to encompass not only the words they had exchanged but also what they weren’t saying. The sparkle in the air between them. His awareness of her, hers of him, the denial of both of them.
Sexual attraction. That was all it was, but even so it wasn’t wise and he had to realise that and move them past it. He drew a deep breath. ‘It’s clear you can cope with the workload. You’ve handled yourself very well so far today. I appreciate your efforts.’
‘Th-thank you.’ A pleased expression lifted the corners of her mouth and softened her eyes. ‘I’ve simply done my job.’
Something about that softening brought back the urge he’d had earlier in the lift to kiss her senseless, and he lowered his tone of voice to a low rumble. ‘So I’ve observed.’
‘I can work whatever hours are needed. I’d just appreciate knowing so I can gear my social life accordingly.’ She cleared her throat and couldn’t quite seem to meet his gaze. ‘I cancelled a drink after work today because I figured I wouldn’t be out by five.’
Rick wanted to say there’d be no time whatsoever for her to spend on ‘drinks’. Presumably with some man. He noted at the same time that she must be looking. Looking, but not seriously involved right now.
But women who looked and carried photos of their parents with them did want depth and permanency, and that kind of relationship was not on his agenda.
‘I should get on, if that was all.’ She reached for the pile of letters to be mailed, began to calmly fold them into the window envelopes she had waiting on her desk.
Dismissed by his temporary assistant. Rick gave a snort of amusement and reluctant admiration before he swung away. ‘I’ll be in my office and … er … I promise there won’t be any more correspondence brought out for you to type today. I know your tray is still loaded.’
‘No.’ She didn’t look up. ‘You’ll just hold it over for tomorrow so I won’t get stressed out. I won’t anyway, but that’s okay. I understand the tactic. Gordon does the same thing.’
Now he’d been compared to a fifty-year-old.
Rick disappeared into his office, pushed the door closed so he wouldn’t be tempted to listen to Marissa taking phone calls or watch her as she worked, and decided that it was very different working with her rather than Tom.
That explained his ongoing interest in her. He half convinced himself he believed this. Well, maybe a quarter. He immersed himself in his work.
At twenty minutes to six that evening Marissa stuck her head around his door. ‘Your presence is requested at an emergency conference.’
He’d started to believe they might have nearly caught up on their workload. So much for that idea. ‘Which department heads? What’s the problem?’
She pushed the door open fully and read a spiel of information from her steno pad.
Rick gave a mild curse. ‘Where? Have they assembled already?’
‘Conference Room Two, and yes.’ She had her tote bag on her shoulder and a determined glint in her eyes. Her computer was shut down and her desk cleared. Whatever work she had remaining she had tidied away. ‘I assume you’ll want us to join them immediately. If it ends quickly, we can come back.’
He got to his feet. ‘I’ll secure my office.’
She swept in beside him while he sorted files and locked them away. ‘Anything on screen that needs to be saved before I shut this down?’
‘No. Nothing, but I can do that.’ He locked the final cabinet and swung round.
She’d clicked out of applications as he spoke and she stood there now, bent at the waist, leaning in to press the button on the back of the computer.
Rick’s senses kicked him hard. She would have to possess the most appealing bottom to go with those equally devastating legs, wouldn’t she? And he would have to notice it instead of being completely unaware of her, as he needed to be. He didn’t want to notice her, or be impressed or intrigued by her or find her different or interesting or highly attractive!
If he’d thought it would help, he’d replace her with someone from another department but no other personal secretary had a boss on holiday. He certainly wasn’t about to subject himself to some child from the general pool again. And, for goodness’ sake, he could control this.
He always controlled the way he reacted to women. There was no reason why this situation should be any different. In fact, because she worked for him and he never, ever, mixed work with his social interactions that way, it should be easier still.
Yes, and it’s been dead easy so far, hasn’t it?
‘Let’s move.’ He hid a grimace in his chin. ‘Here’s hoping the meeting doesn’t go on too long.’
CHAPTER FOUR
MARISSA followed Rick along the corridor and tried not to look at the breadth of his shoulders, the shape of the back of his head or … other parts of him.
Not to mention the man was seriously compelling as a go-getter businessman … but what was she thinking? The terms ‘go-getter’, ‘businessman’ and ‘compelling’ were mutually exclusive in her vocabulary!
And just because he’d been kind to his secretary and had phoned in again to check on the man and declared he wanted to be told if anything—anything—needed to be done for Tom while he was recuperating, just because he’d treated Marissa herself with the utmost consideration he could manage within the demands of his work …
She still wanted a nice ordinary guy—hello? Fine, so maybe Rick did have a degree of niceness. His career outlook made him totally out of bounds for her.
Maybe he’s a total playboy, she thought with a hint of desperation, remembering the Julia lunch date that hadn’t involved lunch. A cad, a womaniser, a toad on a lily pad on a pond full of scum.
You don’t think you’re judging him ever so slightly on Michael Unsworth’s record without getting to know the man first? Without even knowing just who this Julia is to him?
No. She didn’t think that, and she wasn’t grasping at mental straws to keep her hormones under control either. Rick Morgan wasn’t for her. She’d road-tested one corporate man and decided that brand didn’t suit her, and that was all there was to it.
‘Sit here beside me.’ He held the chair for her while the six men in the room glanced their way. ‘You know what to do with the notes.’
She nodded to acknowledge the others’ presence and Rick’s words, and tried not to notice the brush of his hand against her back as he pushed her chair in for her.
The boss simply had nice manners, and so did a lot of accountants and shop assistants.
Butchers and bakers and candlestick-makers.
Marissa jabbed her pencil onto the page and locked her gaze onto its tip. ‘I’m ready.’
To get the meeting over with. To go home for the day and log onto Blinddatebrides.com and read at least ten new profiles, answer any invitations she’d received and be really positive about them. And she had been positive to this point. It wasn’t her fault if no spark of true interest had happened when she’d met any of her dates so far.
Unlike the spark that immediately happened when she’d met Rick Morgan.
Not a helpful thought!
The meeting went beyond long.
‘So we find a way to meet the changes to the fire safety code without compromising on design integrity.’ Rick referred to a skyscraper monstrosity the company was building on the city’s shoreline. ‘We’ll simply present our clients with choices that surpass what they wanted initially.’
He raised several possibilities. While general discussion ensued, Marissa snatched at the momentary respite in note-taking. She should have eaten something more substantial than a salad for her lunch. Instead, she drew one of two bottles of raspberry lemonade from her tote bag and consumed half of it in a series of swallows. She’d planned to take both bottles in her bag home but at least it gave her an energy burst.
The conference moved on. Marissa consumed the rest of the drink, continued her work. Wished she could get up and walk around. Her right foot wanted to go to sleep. Another sign of impending old age?
There is no old age occurring here!
‘It seems to me Phil’s presented you with a workable resolution to the issue with the reservoir, Fred.’ Rick caught the stare of the man at the other end of the oval table.
Marissa vaguely noted that Rick’s beard shadow had really grown in now. Did he shave twice a day? Would he have a mat of dark hair on his chest as well? Her skin tingled in response to the thought.
What was wrong with her? She needed to focus away from the man, not so solidly on him that she noticed almost everything about him and wondered about the rest!
Rick’s face showed no sign of fatigue, though the grooves on either side of his mouth did seem a little deeper.
It wasn’t fair that men just developed character while women fought gravity. Women wrinkled sooner, got older faster. And people had coined entire sayings around the thirtieth birthday. It’s all downhill after thirty …
‘If you don’t want to accept the plans,’ Rick went on, ‘I need to hear a good reason for that. Otherwise, I think we can move onto the next issue.’
Marissa nodded in silent agreement.
Just then Rick glanced her way and their gazes locked before his dropped to her mouth. He stilled and a single swift blast of awareness swept over his face and, very, very briefly, he lost his concentration and stopped speaking.
It was only for a second and probably no one else would have thought anything of it, but in that single moment she had all of his attention—an overwhelming degree of attention, as though he could only focus on her. And, right down to her marrow, she responded with a depth of warmth and interest, curiosity and compulsion that … stunned her.
A moment later his face smoothed of all expression and he carried on with the meeting, and Marissa did her best to pull herself together.
Her lungs chose to function again after all, and she sucked in a deep breath and couldn’t—simply couldn’t—think about the strength of the response he’d drawn from her just then.
A burst of note-taking followed and when it ended she gulped down the second bottle of lemonade and tapped her foot incessantly. It was almost a relief to focus on her exhaustion and discomfort.
‘Anything else?’ Rick sent the words down the length of the table. He wanted the conference over with. It was eight p.m. and his secretary was wilting, her fluffy hair sticking out in odd places and the pink lip-gloss, that made him think of snatching kisses, all but chewed off.
Her shoulders were curved, her left elbow propped on the table while she pushed the pencil across the page with grim determination with her other hand.
He had the oddest desire to protect her from the workload he had inflicted on her—even while he’d noted her pleasure in it. He had the oddest desire for her, period. It had stopped his concentration earlier, had simply shut down all channels until he’d pulled his attention forcibly away from her. No person had had the power to disrupt his thoughts so thoroughly before.
It was more than simply a blast of lust, Morgan. Maybe you should admit that to yourself.
Yet what else could it have been? He didn’t experience any other feelings. Just look at the way he’d run the one and only time he’d linked up with a woman who wanted more from him. More than his father could give, more than Rick knew if he could give. At least he chose to go forward honestly, not let anyone down …
Around the table, people scooped up folders and files.
Rick nodded. ‘Then that’s a wrap. Anything else, get it to me in writing tomorrow.’
The room cleared while Marissa continued to write. In the end, he reached out and stilled her hand by placing his over it. Gently, because for some reason she drew that response from him whether he wanted it to be so or not.
Touching her was a mistake. Her skin was warm, soft, and the urge inside him to caress more of it was unexpectedly potent.
Wouldn’t his youngest sister gloat about this fixation of his? Faith had tried to convince him to fall for the ‘right kind’ of woman for years, to take the leap into emotional oblivion and surrender and believe he’d like it.
What was he thinking, anyway? This was all completely irrelevant. He’d done the not-getting-involved-life-alone mental adjustment years before and he hadn’t changed his mind.
He never would. He’d seen too much, thanks to his father.
There were no emotions involved in desiring Marissa Warren. Just some unexplained stupidity. ‘We’re done here. Let’s put you into a taxi so you can get home. Unless you drove to work?’ He removed the steno pad and pencil from her grip, pushed them into his briefcase on the table and took her elbow to help her up. A simple courtesy, nothing more.
‘I should type the notes while they’re fresh. No, I didn’t drive. I hire a Mini from a neighbour when I go to Milberry to see Mum and Dad. It’s heaps cheaper than owning my own car and I don’t often need to drive.’ The words stopped abruptly as she came fully to her feet and swayed.
‘Marissa? Are you okay?’ He pushed her chair out of the way with his thigh and caught her beneath both elbows even as he registered the personal snippets about her. Registered and wanted to know more, and cursed himself for his curiosity.
‘Sorry.’ She caught her breath. ‘I feel a bit light-headed.’ Her body sagged into his hold. For a moment her forehead rested against his chest and all that curly hair was there beneath his chin.
It came naturally to curve his body around hers. He simply did it without thinking. She felt good in his arms, smelled sweetly of gardenias and some other floral scent. He wanted to press his face into her hair and against her skin and inhale until he held the scent of her inside him.
Total insanity, and he had no idea where it had come from. It must be too long since he’d taken a woman to his bed. He had focused more and more on work over recent months.
‘Take some deep breaths.’ The instruction was to Marissa, though he could do with it himself. ‘You won’t faint on me, will you?’
‘No, I just need a minute.’ Her breasts brushed his chest as she drew a series of breaths.
His whole body was sensitised, his vaunted self-control rocked. He wanted to take her there and then, but he also wanted to cup her head in his hand, tenderly brush her hair from her brow.
Why was she faint, anyway? Lack of food? Was she ill?
‘I stood up too fast and I shouldn’t have had two bottles of drink in a row like that on an empty stomach. I think I gave myself a sugar overload.’ Her fingers curled around his forearms.
‘You should take better care of yourself.’ The admonition skated far too close to a proprietorial concern. ‘I shouldn’t have had you work so late without food either.’
‘It’s my responsibility to eat enough.’ She muttered something about thighs and coffee tables.
Rick gave in and raised his hand, stroking his fingers over the soft skin of her jaw. Simply to lift her face, he told himself, to search her eyes, see if she had recovered sufficiently.
Long lashes lifted to reveal brown eyes that slowly came into focus and filled with belated acknowledgement of their nearness.
Perhaps it was the late hour, the silence of the room or the many hours of work that had gone before that momentarily shorted out his brain, because he lowered his head, his lips intent on reaching hers, something inside him determined to make a connection.
She took a deep steadying breath and straightened away from him and the welcome he had glimpsed in her eyes was replaced with the rejection he should have instigated within himself.
The sense of loss startled him and his hands dropped away from her more slowly than they should have. None of this made sense. None of his reactions to her. They shouldn’t even exist because he’d told himself to shut down any awareness.
‘I’m sorry. I’m fine now.’ She held out her hand for her notes and pencil. So she could keep working and truly faint?
‘I’ll keep these for you for tomorrow.’ He closed the briefcase and guided her towards the door. He simply wanted to ensure his employee was okay. This had only truly been geared towards that.
Aggravatingly off-kilter, Rick took Marissa straight to street level and left the building at her side.
‘Hand this taxi receipt to accounting so they can reimburse you as well,’ he instructed as he flagged a taxi forward from the rank. ‘Are you able to start at eight tomorrow? I realise that’s early and today has exhausted you but, as well as our regular workload, there’s a visit scheduled to a petting zoo. An early lunch for business discussions, and then the zoo itself …’
‘I saw that in the BlackBerry.’ Her chin hiked into the air and her brown eyes flashed. ‘I’ll be here at a quarter to eight so I can meet with the supervisor and brief one of the early shift temps on the work required in Gordon’s office before we do whatever work we can and then leave. You don’t need to make any allowances for me.’
Rather than making him feel bad for asking for another long day out of her, her expression of determination went straight to his groin—a reaction he needed as little as all the others. Perhaps he should have remained in the building and done some laps in the top floor swimming pool before he went home. Like a few hundred or so.
‘Then thank you for your willingness to put in the hours.’ Rick helped her into the taxi. He would not respond to her in such a confusing way again. It was intolerable and unacceptable and he was locking it down right now.
Just like your father would?
And he could leave his family life out of it. That had nothing to do with anything.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’ He turned his back and strode away, promising himself he would leave all thoughts of her behind him.
‘That’s great. Keep smiling. You all look wonderful. Your families will love these photos.’ Marissa had two cameras dangling from her left arm by their straps and another one in her hands. At her side Rick held three more.
They were at the brand-new Sydney animal petting zoo and their group of Hong Kong businessmen guests were one hundred per cent enchanted. She and Rick snapped pictures as fast as they could.
She’d made a vow to herself last night when she’d stepped into her sensible apartment in an equally sensible building in a suburb not far from her work.
Actually she’d made it online to Grace and Dani, since they were her Blinddatebrides buddies and, as well as enjoying their long-distance friendship, Marissa felt accountable to them for her dating efforts. It was good to make herself accountable so she would do as she should—find a nice, ordinary, no-surprises man to fall in love with.
Which meant she needed to forget all about being ultra aware of the boss—okay, so she hadn’t admitted that part to Dani and Grace.
Rick is interestingly older, though, a mature man with lots of layers. Intriguing, complex.
Someone a mature, well-rounded, thirty-year-old woman might find appealing? Not that she was about to become mature. That made her sound positively ancient and, really, she was just beginning her life.
‘How are the photos coming?’ Though Rick’s question was calm and sensible, the expression in his eyes as he glanced at her still held remnants of yesterday evening’s interest.
Marissa’s pulse fluttered. ‘I’m almost done. Every digital camera is different but I think the shots I’m getting will be fine.’
‘Good. That’s good.’ Rick gestured to the businessmen. ‘Perhaps a group shot of all of you?’
He made the suggestion in the deep, even tone he’d used when Marissa had stepped into his office suite this morning and found him already immersed in a deluge of paperwork at his desk. A tone that said they were all about business. But his gaze had contradicted that.
The man had probably invented the term ‘confusion’. For anyone near him, that was. And she hadn’t wanted him to kiss her last night. She’d simply lost her focus for a moment.
‘Hold the pose, gentlemen.’ She forced a wide smile as she changed cameras again. ‘I need another two photos yet.’
Ozzie the koala didn’t seem to mind being held and oohed and aahed over. He sat quietly, his keeper at the side looking on. Ozzie looked utterly adorable with his thick fur and blunt nose and fluffy ears, though his claws were sharp and strong, made for climbing the eucalyptus trees he fed from.
Fortunately the koala was tame and well-behaved. If Marissa could tame her hormones around her boss in the same way, that would be helpful. She took a moment and tried not to think of Rick’s presence close beside her, or the fact that more than simply her chemical composition seemed interested in him.