during her dating efforts. Marissa felt a spark all right—towards completely the wrong man!
Her fingers tightened their death grip on the handrail inside the cage. ‘And the lift is very fast.’
Dizzyingly so now she’d made the mistake of watching things whizz past. She’d thought that might save her from looking at Rick.
‘We’re quite secure, despite the fact you can see everything around you.’ He took her elbow to help her off as the lift stopped. Held on while she came to terms with the height. Held on and her skin tingled while his expression deepened because of their nearness. ‘Don’t worry.’ His voice seemed to come from deep in his chest as he placed his body between hers and the outside of the construction so she only saw him. ‘I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.’
She’d been half okay until he said that. Now she had to add chivalry to his list of attributes.
‘Thank you, but I’m sure I’ll be quite fine now.’ She forced herself to step away from him, did her best to ignore the ache that doing so left behind.
Rick’s hand dropped slowly to his side as though he too hadn’t been ready to lose that contact.
Had touching her jolted him the same way? The answer was in the lock of his muscles, the tightness of his jaw and the way his lids lowered as his gaze drifted from her eyes to her mouth.
Then suddenly he turned to greet the site manager and the construction boss led them over every inch of the building.
Marissa composed herself and gave the tour her determined attention. This was a genuine meeting, the kind that should happen, not the sort where a man went on about turning a bridge into something completely made-over when that simply wasn’t possible.
She took pages of notes of specifications that Rick would expect her to incorporate when he worked on his department memos after the visit and decided she was okay with this. She had it all under control now. All she needed to do was keep her attention on her work, not look at her boss any more than she had to and not think about him at all.
Yes. And that worked really well when they were in constant communication at point blank range, didn’t it?
‘Overall, the project looks good at this stage.’ Rick nodded his approval as they finished their discussion at ground level almost an hour later.
‘I’m happy enough with things so far.’ The site boss pushed his hard hat back off his head. ‘But we have two more days of work, maximum, before we need that shipment of materials from the Melbourne supplier. If we don’t get it by then, we’re stalled and that’s going to cost us in time and wages.’
‘And you think the reason for the delay is related to underlying union issues at their end?’ Rick nodded. ‘Let me look into this. I’ll see if I can get things moving for you. Do you have a copy of the order?’
‘Right here.’ The site boss removed it from his clipboard.
Rick took it, glanced at it and passed it to Marissa. ‘At least you won’t have to note all this down.’
Their fingers brushed. His words brushed across her senses at the same time. Just words, but his gaze searched her face, took her in as though he didn’t realise he was doing it. As though he couldn’t stop himself from doing it.
‘I hope we can get back to the office soon.’ She needed the security of her desk and at least some semblance of routine. She needed Tom to get better fast and come back to work so she could hide in Gordon’s office.
More than that, she needed to stamp the words ‘dating website’ on her forehead so she remembered what she was supposed to be doing.
Not supposed to. Wanted to. Must do. Was doing! ‘So I can get to work on this transcribing.’
They made their way back to work with Rick dictating on the way. Once at the office, Marissa worked on his department memos and, because they were so pushed for time, they ate lunch at their desks. The busy afternoon that followed shouldn’t have allowed time to feel anything but the strain of hours of hard work, and yet she felt a great deal of other strain.
Marissa wished that strain away as she made yet another phone call for her boss. ‘This is Marissa Warren. I’m filling in as Rick Morgan’s secretary and need you to supply me with a list of names of all the people who’ve worked on the Chartrel project.’ She clasped the phone against her ear and smelled Rick’s scent on it from when he’d taken a call at her desk minutes earlier.
Marissa closed her eyes and inhaled before she could stop herself. When she lifted her lids again, Rick’s gaze rested on her from the other room, deep grey eyes honed on her.
She forced her attention back to her work, buried herself in it. Maybe she should never emerge again. That might fix things. When Rick came to her desk an hour later, she knew it hadn’t fixed anything at all.
‘I need you to take these to the departments personally, Marissa.’ He held out several signed memos. ‘I know we’re busy, but I want you to wait for their responses.’
‘All right.’ She agreed without hesitation. Eager to please him. No. She wasn’t overly compliant or willing to go the extra mile. She certainly didn’t think they were equals in this and would both be rewarded at the end. The roles were clear. Hers and his. This wasn’t the same as the past.
Rick wasn’t using her to try to make himself look bigger or better.
Maybe not, but he was still using her in his own way. He’d swept her into working for him without giving her a choice.
Your employment contract states: ‘and other duties as required’. He didn’t ask you to do anything you’re not obliged to do.
Fine. The man had every right to commandeer her. He was still too similar to Michael—all business orientation and focused on his work goals. Marissa held the thought up like a shield, and added another. She wanted to find a safe man, an ordinary man, and yes, okay, maybe she did want to get married and fulfil the promise of the Blinddatebrides.com website.
She was almost thirty. Surely a desire for genuine commitment was acceptable at that age? Her mother had been married a decade by then, with a child—what if Marissa could only have one baby, like Mum had?
Didn’t it make sense that Marissa might be thinking of getting started on that? That was nothing more than a logistics thing.
She wheeled about. ‘When I get back, I’ll do something about the explosion out here that was once my … that is … Tom’s desk.’
Not her desk.
Tom’s desk.
Tom’s chair.
She was keeping it all warm for Tom and nothing more. On this fortifying reminder, she left. Graciously and calmly, as befitted someone totally in control of her life, her hopes, her dreams and herself.
By the middle of the afternoon it was raining—a drenching fall that obscured the skyline and turned the water in the harbour choppy. Marissa stared at the dismal view before she turned back to the photocopier.
‘Deep breath,’
