Three Blind-Date Brides: Nine-to-Five Bride. Melissa McClone
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Yes. He was in trouble, but he could control it. He must be able to do at least that.
Over coffee, talk turned to what the city had to offer.
One of the women leaned forward. ‘We have half of tomorrow before we leave. I’m wondering what to do with the time.’
‘There’s plenty on offer in terms of entertainment, shopping, whatever you like, really.’ Rick stretched out his legs, stared at the neat crease in the dark trousers. Imagined the gold of Marissa’s dress against the fabric.
All roads led back to it. The fact that he wanted Marissa—still wanted her.
‘You might consider the new animal petting zoo.’ Marissa spoke the words to the other woman. Her gaze met Rick’s and a delicate flush rose in her cheeks as she seemed to wish she hadn’t raised the topic.
She went on, waved her hand. ‘Holding a koala is a unique experience.’
And then he remembered that moment, the trembling of her shoulders and the rush of protective instinct that had coursed through him, had tapped into instincts he’d been ignoring ever since that moment.
‘The koalas smell of eucalyptus oil, don’t they, Marissa?’ Keep it light. That’s all it can be. ‘Did you manage to wash the scent out of that cardigan?’
‘I did get the cardigan clean, and I imagine our overseas visitors probably made good use of a dry-cleaner’s after that visit.’ Marissa lowered her gaze to her coffee cup. ‘We’ve had some interesting moments during my brief time filling in as your assistant.’
Maybe she wanted to remind them both that this wouldn’t last. That soon she would go back to her regular job and he wouldn’t see more of her than a glimpse in a corridor from time to time. Maybe he should be glad she wanted to remind him of that.
Instead, a kaleidoscope of images and moments spent with her bombarded his mind and his senses. Marissa with a hard hat squashed over her curly hair that day on the bridge. Presenting him with a laminated certificate for his niece for completing her swimming lessons. Cursing at the photocopier beneath her breath when she thought he couldn’t hear her.
He wanted Tom back on his feet but the thought of Marissa easing back to the periphery of his working life didn’t sit well with him.
‘We should go.’
‘Yes, it’s been a productive evening.’
‘We’ll take a vote with the full group and you’ll hear from us.’
One by one their guests stood. It took another few minutes for Rick to see them completely out and away.
When Rick closed the door finally on the guests, Marissa moved to the terrace to collect the empty cups and return them to the kitchen. She turned as he joined her.
‘I’ll get the biscotti tray.’ And then she needed to leave, to forget this glimpse into yet another side to her boss.
‘Leave it for now.’ He poured two glasses of liqueur, passed one to her and led her to the edge of the terrace with his hand on her arm.
‘I guess we deserve five minutes to celebrate this evening’s hard work. To enjoy the view now it’s quiet and there’s time to focus on it.’ She couldn’t help the observation that followed. ‘Somehow I’d expected your apartment to be all chrome and black and sharp lines with the view carefully shut outside through long planes of plate glass. The terrace entertainment area surprised me. It’s lovely.’
‘I’m pleased you like it.’ His gaze darkened on her, again seemed to search inside her.
Would he be as pleased to know she’d imagined it being a home to a family? No. He wouldn’t, would he? She lifted the glass and inhaled the aroma of the drink. ‘I smell spices and tea and rum. And vanilla?’
‘It’s Voyant Chai Cream. I think you’ll like it.’ He watched her over the rim of his glass as they sipped.
‘Very smooth.’ She sipped again. Savoured. Tried hard not to think about the war going on inside her body that shouldn’t be going on at all, and especially not where Rick was concerned.
For the first time in her life Marissa was subjected to forces of her own nature, her own hidden needs, which she had never even considered she might struggle to control. She couldn’t seem to stop herself from associating some of those desires with her boss. She forced her attention back to the drink in her hand. ‘It’s delicious.’
‘Yes.’ The single word seemed to wrap around her, be meant for her. All he did was match her sip for sip before he finally set his glass down, tucked his hands in his pockets and looked out over the harbour, and yet she felt his desire for her as though he’d spoken it aloud.
‘It was a good night, don’t you think?’ He glanced at her, the heat in his eyes partially concealed, but very much there. Talked business as they should be doing. ‘Despite that bit of goading, I expect they’ll sign with us for their project.’
‘It was—yes. I believe it was a successful evening.’ She set her glass down with trembling fingers.
The softness of the city night cast his face in clarity and shadows. Just like the man. She had to pull herself together, to play this out the safe way, to keep her focus on their working relationship and not these odd, nebulous things she wanted that she didn’t even know if she could ever have.
She should put herself to sleep or something until she’d passed her birthday, get it behind her so she could realise it hadn’t changed anything, that she was the same inside and she didn’t have to pine for a family of her own.
‘In part, that success is thanks to you.’ He let his gaze roam over her face. ‘I think you captured all of them.’ His hands fell to his sides. She thought he murmured, ‘You captivated me.’
A long beat of silence followed as she fought with herself. Finally she spoke. ‘I should go. Tomorrow is another working day.’ Maybe if she reminded herself of that she wouldn’t respond to him quite so much.
Marissa moved away from the view, from the sparkle of city lights. They stepped inside and she collected her bag from the kitchen. ‘I’ll get the doorman to organise me a cab straight off the rank downstairs.’
‘I’ll take you down.’
‘There’s no need.’ She drew a breath as they paused before his door. ‘Goodnight, Rick. I’m glad I could help. I hope your sister gets the job promotion. I got the impression it would mean a lot if she did.’
‘Darla deserves the break. She’s worked hard for that company for many years, first as a part-timer and working up to full-time once Kirrilea started school.’
‘You’re proud of her. Of your niece, too.’ She faced him before the closed door, searched his eyes.
‘They’re easy people to be proud of.’ Rick reached