He’d gripped the desk to prevent his arms reaching for her, the urge to hold her stronger than he’d ever felt. And then what? He had no idea; with her he was in uncharted waters.
He was, however, determined that before he let her go he’d persuade her to reveal her inner torments, and help her overcome them. He knew with an innate certainty the inner woman was as beautiful as her outward appearance.
* * *
Lauren arrived early the next morning even though she’d taken extra time on her hair and make-up. She’d fallen asleep thinking of ball gowns—she’d have to buy one, plus matching accessories—romantic music and dancing with a stunning male in tailor-made formal wear.
It had been dark when she’d woken, her mind buzzing with an idea generated by her discussion over the phone with Pete in Sydney. Eagerness to try it had warred with the desire to look extra good for Matt, so she’d skipped breakfast and bought a sandwich on the way.
The disappointment at his absence was countered with optimism that she’d be able to give him the answers he’d requested. Her fingers hesitated over the keyboard. If she was correct, today might be her last day in this room, so close to him. Even when he was elsewhere in the building, she felt his presence, and his unique aroma lingered in the air.
She’d spend the rest of her working life breathing in expectantly and being disenchanted. Not even the same brand would suit because it wouldn’t have his essence.
She booted up. She’d promised to do her best for him, and would, even if it meant she lost out.
* * *
Matt arrived mid-morning, eager to see her. He was perplexed by her reticence on the phone when he’d called to say he’d been delayed. If she was having second thoughts about Saturday, he’d have to talk her round.
In his hurry to see her he left his jacket in the car. Not caring, he barrelled through his office to her door where her grave expression pulled him up short. Even as the truth hit home his subliminal mind noted she wore extra make-up. Subtle and captivating.
‘You’ve solved it.’ It was what he wanted, had hired her for. So why the heaviness in his chest, and the sudden nausea attack?
She nodded and he swung away to fetch his chair, wheeling it over to her desk. His gut told him it wasn’t good and he braced for the worst. Her delicate fragrance taunted him with every intake of air.
Her blue screen was blank except for a familiar symbol.
‘And this is...?’ He already knew—wanted confirmation yet dreaded receiving it.
Lauren hesitated, hating that what she was about to reveal would hurt him, She had no choice, pressed enter, and a box with a request for a password appeared.
‘It’s deliberate and there are limited people who had access. Joanne said—’
‘You’ve discussed this with her?’ His body surged forward. Anger flashed in his eyes, giving them more animation than she’d seen since they met.
‘No! We shared a coffee break yesterday, and she said they’d lost good employees. You referred to the staff turnover last Thursday.’
‘I did. I apologise.’ It was terser than he’d been lately, with no relenting of his indignant stance.
‘It wasn’t gossip. Joanne admires your father very much. I got the impression his health had worried her for ages. She said how well he and the staff got on, what a great boss he was, and that he’d installed a number of the programs himself.’
‘I didn’t know. I wasn’t here.’ He ground one fist into the other palm.
‘It has to be my father.’
HIS WORLD HAD imploded at the sight of the icon. This was confirmation of the suspicion that had grown as he’d checked the records, hoping his father’s worsening dementia had been responsible for the unaccountable swings. Saying the words out loud enforced the actuality.
He moved closer and typed in the heading on the plaque in his father’s home study, his fingers surprisingly steady in contrast to the agitation in his gut. Two screen changes and he had the answers he needed. And a whole new bunch of complications.
Elbow on the desk, hand clenching his jaw and mouth, he gaped at the folder titles, anger building at the subterfuge of the man he’d admired. What the hell had he been planning?
‘Would you like me to leave while you examine the files?’
He didn’t turn, couldn’t face her. Needing air and time to come to terms with the harsh reality in front of him, he pushed away from the desk, shot to his feet and swung away from her.
‘No. Close it down.’
He strode out of both offices, his mind churning with distasteful words: fraud, embezzlement, jail. Ignoring the lift, he went to the stairwell and headed down. There was no more doubt, no more hope of technical glitches, or outside scamming.
If he reported what they’d found his father would be investigated. If he didn’t...not an option. He’d fight like hell to save the company and his new enterprise with Duncan but the appropriate authorities had to be informed. Whatever the cost to his own personal reputation, everything had to be open and above board.
He wasn’t sure how many floors he pounded down and up again. As his head and his options became clearer, he realised he’d left Lauren in the lurch. She’d succeeded in the task he’d given her, and he’d growled and walked out. Had she left? Would she equate him with his father?
His angst eased a little when he found her sitting by the window in her office writing in a small notebook. She raised her head and he gazed into sweet hazel eyes, full of compassion and offered with complete sincerity. A haven from the tempest.
* * *
Lauren sat stunned after he’d barked out the order to shut down and stormed out. He hadn’t even glanced at her, just bolted.
After closing down and writing out instructions to access the files, she went for a drink of water, pondering her future, which might be closer than she’d expected. She’d done the job, found what the anomalies hid. Not knowing what the folders contained, she assumed they’d need to be audited, and that wasn’t her expertise.
Did this change his invitation for Saturday night? Would she be starting her exploration of rural South Australia earlier than anticipated? She was no longer required so why didn’t she feel the usual elation of success? The bubble of enthusiasm for the next assignment?
She took a notebook from her bag and tried to makes notes and failed. Her mind was on the distraught man who was trying to come to terms with his father’s deceit. This was a major blow for him. He deserved privacy to come to terms with tangible proof of his father’s duplicity and the fallout effects to his family.
His entrance was as abrupt as his departure. He paused for a second in the doorway then walked slowly towards her, midnight-blue eyes dark and unsure of his
