don’t need some generic spiel about what you can offer the company. I’ve already read all that in your brochure and it’s exactly what I’m after.’ He stopped for a moment and sat on the corner of the desk, looking down at her. ‘Tell me about you.’
Surprised at his change of subject, Fleur tried to focus her attention on giving him a brief yet professional outline of her qualifications. However, the harder she tried to focus, the more her attention shifted to the man sitting in front of her with his crotch at eye level.
Wrenching her gaze away, she looked up at him, only to find him looking at her with those all-seeing, all-knowing blue eyes. And if she didn’t know any better, she could’ve sworn she glimpsed amusement in their depths.
Clearing her throat, she gave him the abbreviated version of what she assumed he wanted to know. ‘I’m an accountant by profession but found the job too restrictive. I completed a degree in psychology for kicks, anything to break out of the staid accountancy mould. And here I am, trying to combine the two.’
He fixed her with yet another piercing stare. ‘So what was so restrictive?’
‘Everything,’ she answered too quickly, before composing herself. ‘I mean, some people just aren’t cut out for that type of work and I’m one of them.’
He quirked an eyebrow. ‘Why?’
‘I like to live outside the box. I’ll try anything once and being an accountant, surrounded by conservative types who try their utmost to stay inside that box, just didn’t do it for me.’ The interview had taken a decidedly personal turn and, rather than being insulted, Fleur was strangely flattered that he wanted to know what made her tick.
‘Anything, huh?’ He leaned towards her and for one, insane moment she thought he might kiss her.
She nodded, wondering if she’d lost her mind and mentally cursing Liv for filling her head with romantic notions from those damn novels she read.
He stood up and extended his hand. ‘Good. In that case, you’re hired.’
Fleur managed a smile as she placed her hand in his, more prepared this time for the little jolt of electricity that shot up her arm. ‘Thanks for the opportunity. I won’t let you down.’
She wasn’t sure if he held her hand a fraction too long before dropping it. ‘How soon can you start?’
‘Whenever you want me.’
‘Tonight?’ And just like that, the air around them seemed to crackle with some indefinable force, leaving Fleur with the distinct urge to test the boundaries with her new boss.
So what if he acted as if he’d just stepped off the ark? Maybe she could help him lighten up a little and have some fun in the process.
But he’s your boss.
The thought dampened her impish side in a second. What was she thinking? She’d just landed a prime job with a large company that could set her own business on its way and what was she planning? To seduce the boss! She needed to get a life. Fast.
‘Tonight is fine. What did you have in mind?’
He turned away from her and returned to the sanctuary of his desk. ‘Why don’t we have dinner and I can fill you in on the company?’ Several papers were picked up and reshuffled, as if he didn’t care about her answer.
Fleur’s heart lurched at the thought of spending an evening with this man, who had the power to unnerve her without trying. ‘Sure. Name the place and time.’
He looked up, an expression of relief softening his hard features. ‘The Potter Lounge. At eight?’
Fleur hoped the surprise didn’t show on her face. He’d just named one of Melbourne’s stuffiest, pretentious restaurants, usually reserved for regular guests or those hell-bent on making an impression.
‘Formal or cocktail wear?’
‘Whatever takes your fancy.’ His gaze wandered down the length of her body, leaving a trail of goose pimples in its wake. ‘Though I’m sure you’d look great in anything.’
Heat flooded her cheeks, though before she could come up with an appropriate retort he stalked across the room and held the door open for her in an obvious sign of dismissal. ‘See you tonight?’
Clutching her portfolio under one arm and swinging her handbag over the other, Fleur strode past him. ‘See you then. And thanks once again for the opportunity, Mr Howard.’
‘It’s Darcy, remember?’
She managed a polite smile and nod before he shut the door.
It’s Darcy, remember?
His deep voice echoed through her mind along with every word he’d uttered in her bizarre interview. After the impression he’d just made on her, how could she forget?
CHAPTER TWO
IT HAD been a long time since Darcy had taken a woman out for dinner. His ever-increasing schedule put paid to any social life he’d once had, not that any woman had held his interest long enough for him to consider pursuing her.
Until now.
He shook his head, mentally chastising himself for allowing his thoughts to head down that track. Fleur Adams was business, not pleasure, a fact he shouldn’t forget if he wanted his company to survive.
So what if he’d already decided to hire her before the interview? He’d needed to know more about the woman who held the future of his business in her hands, besides the basics. In a way, that was what tonight would be also, another ‘get to know you’ session.
So was that why he’d picked the fanciest place to dine in town? They had to eat and he’d sooner indulge his passion for fine food and wine at a recognised establishment than some poor imitation. God, he sounded like a pompous ass at times! He would frighten the poor woman off if he spoke like that.
Funnily enough, he already had the impression that Fleur thought he was an old fuddy-duddy; that was why he’d paid her a compliment, in the hope she would realise that he wasn’t above admiring a beautiful woman when he saw one, though her reaction had intrigued him. Young women these days rarely blushed and he wondered if her feisty words about ‘trying anything once’ were merely a front of false bravado too.
Maybe he could test her out? And maybe you need your head read!
Pulling up in front of the restaurant, he handed the car keys to the valet and almost bounced up the marble steps. Whoever had invented that stupid rule about not mixing business with pleasure? Tonight, he had every intention of pushing the boundaries.
Fleur took a steadying breath, tilted her chin up and walked into the elaborate dining room of the Potter Lounge, trying not to gawk. Muted chandeliers cast a soft glow on the antique furnishings and reflected off the polished silverware, creating a warm and inviting ambiance, while the crystal wineglasses shone in the flickering candlelight.
So much for keeping her imagination grounded. This place was built for romance, not business, and she had no idea why
