“Kiss me again, Christianna.”
Nate bent his head once more and acknowledged the need. For fulfillment in her, yes. Definitely that. But for other things, too. Undefined things that even now threatened him in ways he couldn’t comprehend.
“Nate.” Just his name, breathed out on the same kind of sexy little sigh that had tortured him once before.
Her response made him crazy and his imagination went wild. He pictured them together at his cottage, making love night after night.
Except Nate didn’t do night after night, with all it entailed. It was too easy to forget it in her arms. He fought for sanity. Fought to keep from losing himself. From free-falling into something that came as close to scaring him as anything could.
JENNIE ADAMS
Australian author Jennie Adams grew up in a rambling farmhouse surrounded by books, and by people who loved reading them. She decided at a young age to be a writer, but it took many years and a lot of scenic detours before she sat down to pen her first romance novel. Jennie is married with two adult children, and has worked in a number of careers and voluntary positions, including transcription typist and preschool assistant. Jennie makes her home in a small inland city in New South Wales. In her leisure time she loves long, rambling walks, starting knitting projects that she rarely finishes, chatting with friends, trips to the movies and new dining experiences
Her Millionaire Boss
Jennie Adams
Dear Reader,
Like Chrissy Gable in this book, I enjoy growing plants and flowers—and, like Chrissy, I meet with mixed success. My latest gardening projects include six strawberry plants yielding lovely fruit—and two producing brown blobs—and a small flower garden, which I confess looks better since my daughter took over most of its care.
I love to hear from readers, and can be contacted through my Web site at www.jennieadams.net
Jennie Adams
For Mark, because my world needs your light.
For my children, my treasures always. And for “the bats”—you know who you are.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
‘YOU’RE not going into Henry’s sick room, Margaret. Not like this.’ Not with a lawyer at her side and greed all over her face.
Chrissy Gable took a deep breath of antiseptic-laden hospital air, and looked her boss’s second wife right in her calculating eyes. ‘His health is too precarious to risk upsetting him. Surely you can understand that?’
With her heart pounding hard, Chrissy faced the other woman. Even the usual weight of waist-length hair bundled onto her head and bound with a couple of chopsticks felt leaden at this moment. If Margaret had cared even the slightest bit for her elderly husband’s health…
Instead, she had delayed her return to Melbourne until the end of her vacation at Mount Selwyn. Why let duty interfere with her fun?
Henry didn’t deserve a wife like Margaret. He hadn’t deserved to be deserted by his grandson six years ago, either.
Nate Barrett had transferred to the overseas arm of the company just weeks before Chrissy had commenced working for Henry. The man had shucked his grandfather off like excess baggage, even though Henry had all but raised him as a son.
Chrissy had wondered if her boss would ever get over the hurt. Henry may have been recently married, but Nate’s leaving had shredded the older man’s heart. Chrissy had made it her task to help her boss through the pain. She and Henry had formed a deep bond. She would watch over him now, too.
‘Get out of my way,’ Margaret grated.
I don’t think so. Margaret might have tricked Henry long enough once to get a ring on her finger. He might now be too proud, gentlemanly or inexplicably smitten to cast the fifty-year-old off.
To Chrissy’s mind, however, the woman lacked decidedly in redeeming features. ‘Lose the lawyer, and I’ll be happy to move.’
‘I’m Henry’s wife.’ Margaret’s hands curled into fists. ‘I have every right—’
‘Every right to what? Upset him? Cause a second stroke that could be fatal?’ Did Margaret’s greed know no bounds? ‘He’s too ill to deal with a lawyer right now, so I suggest you take your Power of Attorney form and—’
‘How do you know…?’ Margaret broke off and pushed forward. ‘Out of my way. You’re just his secretary.’
The man at her side followed.
‘It’s PA, actually, and I’m not shifting.’ Chrissy held her ground in front of the closed door of the hospital room but her nerves screamed. She couldn’t let Margaret coerce Henry into signing anything. Nor could she allow the woman to have Henry declared mentally unfit.
