shrugged. “Everyone has fears.”
She couldn’t imagine Ryder Bramson fearing anything. He resembled an imposing warrior-leader from times past as much as the corporate giant he was.
Ryder’s gut twisted as he saw the look in Macy’s eye. He knew she was about to ask him about his own fears, and that was something he didn’t talk about with anyone.
He turned, casting an arm out to encompass the site. And neatly changed the subject. “You’ve done well to find this place. In fact, you’ve done well in every facet of the job. I’d like you to rethink your plan to leave at the end of the project.” To leave him.
She took the change in good grace, and her countenance changed to match. Smiling, she walked around the old counter and jumped up to perch on its edge.
She threw him a glance over her shoulder. “You know why I’m leaving. It has nothing to do with the job.”
He followed her around to the other side of the counter and leaned a hip against its edge. “You made the decision when you were upset—”
She opened her mouth but he held up a hand.
“—and rightly so. There were things I should have told you up front, and I regret that. But we’ve moved past it. We could have a good working relationship if you take on the Australian arm of this company.”
She smiled wryly, kicking her heels out straight ahead, her gaze focused on them. “You know, a month ago, I would have jumped at that offer. That job was everything I was working toward.”
There was something in what she said—no, in what she wasn’t saying—that drew him.
He folded his arms across his chest. “Why that job?”
She turned to smile up at him, eyes twinkling. “Shouldn’t you be extolling the advantages of the position? Talking it up?”
“I’m curious.” And he was. The drive to understand the mystery of Macy was stronger in this moment than any other concern. He could spend years asking her questions just to hear what she’d say. “There are hundreds of jobs that are suitable to your skills. Why is this one the one you wanted?”
Macy stilled. “Honestly?” she asked, her face candid, as if the enclosed room with its newspapered walls had become a haven away from the world. A place away from reality. He liked being there with her.
He swallowed. “Yes.”
“I want to be CEO, so whether the company flourishes or perishes can be attributed to me and my team. I’d rather be CEO of a midsized company than have a senior position at a large company. And I want to be CEO of a company with an annual turnover in the range we forecast for Chocolate Diva.”
“That’s quite a specific aim.”
She smiled again, acknowledging his point. “Yes, it is.”
“Have you had that goal long?”
She breathed in slowly. Too slowly. “Eight years.”
When he’d first met her, he’d found her hard to read—as he was sure she appeared to most people. But he was coming to understand the nuances of her expressions. Her gestures. The thought made his chest expand a fraction and drove him to try to understand what she was avoiding telling him.
“Why a company this size?”
She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “It seemed a good number.”
“No.” He smiled lazily. “You haven’t answered my question.”
She arched an eyebrow, obviously a little surprised. “It’s a good midsize company to prove myself in.”
“Sounds reasonable.” He pushed off the counter and moved to stand in front of her. “But that’s not it. Why?”
She frowned at his rejection of her replies. “There’s no other reason.”
He leaned one hand on the countertop either side of her, trapping her and bringing their mouths within inches of each other. “Your eyes tell me there’s more to this story,” he murmured. “Why do you want a company this size, Macy?”
Silence met his question, but he waited. Her warm, sweet breath fanned over his face, driving him a little crazy, and still he waited.
Then she replied in a rush. “Because that’s the size of my father’s company.”
It was the truth this time. He felt it in his bones. His fingers picked up a lock of hair that had escaped the confines of the twist she’d redone after their flight and toyed with it. “You want to beat him? Show you’re better than him?”
Her pupils dilated as she looked from his eyes to his mouth. “No,” she whispered.
“Tell me.”
Her pink tongue slid across her lips then she closed her eyes, as if forming the thought in her mind. When she opened them again, she was bare, vulnerable. Willingly open to him. “I want to prove to him, and myself, that I should have been his heir. He wanted a son, but he didn’t get one. And now he’s willing to blackmail you into marrying me to keep the company in the family. It never entered his mind to pass it to me.”
Ryder swore and shook his head at Ian Ashley’s stupidity. He’d assumed Macy wasn’t in line for the inheritance because she’d walked away from her family, not the other way around.
He picked up her hands, linking their fingers. “That’s rough.”
“You see my point?” She looked up at him, her wide hazel eyes searching his. She was extraordinarily pretty, but more than that pulled at him. It was as if he could see into her soul—see her need for someone to understand who she was and what she’d been through.
He squeezed her fingers. “Yes, I do. If it’d happened to me, I’d be more angry than you.”
For a split second her eyes glistened. Then she blinked twice rapidly and disentangled their hands. When she met his eyes again, all traces of emotional vulnerability were gone.
She smiled. “Thanks.”
Taking his cue from her, he stepped back, out of her personal space, but his mind couldn’t make the same disconnect. He needed to do something. Something to make this right for her.
“Marry me, and after I buy your father’s company, I’ll put you in as CEO. You’ll show everyone, including him, what a blazing good job you can do.”
Her head tipped to the side and she frowned, as if surprised by his offer. But then she shook her head. “That’s sweet, but no. I don’t want his company anymore. It’d feel tainted.”
“Okay then.” He dug his hands into his pockets, mind racing, trying to find a solution for her, and solve his issue with his father’s will at the same time. “How’s this? Marry me and I’ll give you a company twice the size of Ashley International. Lock, stock and barrel, it’ll be yours.”
She
