her consciousness of him until it disappeared.
‘Yes.’ She was ready, under control and safe from the temptation of a corporate boss with power on her mind. Marissa clutched her pencil and hoped that was true!
CHAPTER TWO
RICK turned his car into the traffic and started to dictate. First came the report for Cartwright’s committee meeting. Then a bunch of short memos to be emailed to various department heads regarding the other projects he had visited this morning. Marissa’s pencil flew across the pages while she remained utterly conscious of his presence at her side.
In the confines of the big car she registered each breath and movement as he managed the congested traffic conditions with ease. Maybe joining a dating site had raised her overall awareness of men in a general sense?
That might explain this sudden inconvenient fixation on Rick.
He paused, glanced at her. ‘All right? Are you keeping up?’
‘Yes.’ She waved the hand with the pencil in it and didn’t let on for a moment that it ached somewhat from the thorough workout. ‘Gordon always dictates when we’re out on site work.’
Which had been all of three or four times since she’d started with her middle-aged boss six months ago, and Gordon always paused to ponder between each sentence.
‘Take this list down then, please.’ Rick went on to give a prioritised outline of workaday items—phone calls to be made, documentation to be lifted from files and information to be gathered from other departments within the company.
He had crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes. They crinkled when he scrunched his face in thought or gave that slight smile, and made him look even better. Gorgeous, with character.
Whereas Marissa had spent over a hundred dollars on a miracle fine line facial cream last week, an action that had puzzled the younger of her Blinddatebrides friends Dani, and made Grace laugh, albeit rather wryly.
When Rick wound up his dictation, she gestured at the steno pad now crammed with instructions. ‘Someone’s going to be busy. There’s also a BlackBerry in the pack Tom gave me. Do you want me to read you the day’s list?’
In case he’d missed something in the estimated ten hours of straight work he’d just hammered out for whoever got the job of replacing Tom in his absence? She pitied those girls in the general pool on the first floor. Maybe he’d take two of them. Not her problem, in any case.
After this trip, Marissa would take her fine line wrinkles and go back to Gordon’s office.
Rick probably wouldn’t be in a good mood about the first floor help, though, given his last temp from there had booked an appointment for him to go out on a matter someone else should have handled.
‘Yes, check through and see what I’ve missed, would you?’ He signalled, slowed and turned and she realised with a start that they were back at their North Sydney office building. The city pulsed with busyness around them before he took the car underground, but she could only focus on his busyness.
Note to self about go-getter busyness, Marissa: it is not an endearing or invigorating trait.
She quickly pulled the electronic organiser from Tom’s travel pack in her tote. Scanned. Read. Tried not to acknowledge the burst of irrational disappointment that swept through her.
‘There’s a notation of “Julia” for twelve-thirty.’ He wouldn’t hear the slight uneven edge in her tone, would he? How silly to care that he was seeing someone. She should have realised that would be the case. It shouldn’t matter to her that he was! ‘That’s the only thing listed that you haven’t brought up.’
Of course the listing could be for any reason. Hairdresser appointment. An hour with his gym trainer. Or a pet schnauzer he walked faithfully once a day.
Dream on, Marissa.
‘Ah, yes.’ His face softened for a moment before he turned into his parking space and opened his door.
A go-getting corporate shark who had no business noticing the help if he was already involved. Probably with some sophisticated woman, maybe the daughter of a fellow businessman, or a corporate high-flyer herself. She’d be stunningly beautiful and her face cream would work like a charm, if she needed it at all.
You’re being ridiculous. He barely noticed you in passing and he certainly didn’t seem thrilled once he realised he had. Nor do you want to be thrilled or notice him.
Marissa released her seat belt, shoved the PDA back into her tote bag and drew out her work shoes.
With her head bent removing the joggers, she said in what she felt was a perfectly neutral tone, ‘Feel free to go on ahead. I can either stop by the first floor general pool for you and ask them to send someone up, or bring the PDA and my notes to whoever you’ve chosen to replace Tom. You can pre-lock this monster so I just have to shut the door, I assume?’
‘Thanks for the kind offer.’ Rick watched as Marissa Warren pushed a second trim foot into a shapely shoe. She had beautiful ankles. And legs. And a sweetness in her face that had tugged unexpectedly at something deep inside him from the moment he’d seen her up close for the first time this morning.
He’d noticed her in the office, of course. He noticed all the staff. As owner and manager, it was part of his job to remain aware about who worked for him, though the company was so big nowadays and employed so many people that he didn’t always have anything specific to do with some of the workers.
In any case Marissa was completely unsuitable as a woman he should notice, legs or not. He wasn’t prepared to risk commitment and the failure that could go with it, and he didn’t tangle with the kind of women who might want it. Marissa struck him as a woman who would want all sorts of pieces of a man that Rick might not have the ability to give. Not that he’d ever wanted to.
‘I’ll wait for you.’
She didn’t realise yet there would be no parting. But this didn’t have to be about anything beyond work requirements. And, ultimately, he didn’t have a whole lot of better options.
‘If you insist,’ she muttered, and pushed her joggers into her tote bag.
Why he couldn’t seem to take his gaze from her, he simply couldn’t explain. Yet she’d drawn his attention from the moment she’d arrived at the bridge, that hard hat rammed down on her head like armour plating.
Most of the women in the office were either in their forties or fifties, married and/or otherwise committed, or giggling twenty-year-olds. Marissa didn’t fit either of those groups. She didn’t seem the type to giggle.
Maybe that explained this odd attraction to Gordon Slaymore’s secretary.
Rick got out, closed his door, moved to her side and pulled hers open. ‘Ready?’
‘Yes. It was kind of you to wait, though unnecessary.’ She stood at about five foot five inches in height with a compact body that curved in all the right places. Brown eyes sparkled one moment and seemed to guard secrets the next and that wealth of hair caressed her face and nape in all its curly wildness. Her nose was strong and straight, her mouth
