Her Not-So-Secret Diary. Anne Oliver

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      She dropped into the passenger seat as if those spectacular legs were about to give out and he grinned to himself. Dying to know if he knew, wasn’t she? But she wasn’t asking, and he wasn’t telling.

      ‘Been temping long?’ he asked as he swung out of the car park.

      ‘A few years. But not for much longer.’ He noted she wasted no time opening the laptop.

      ‘Why’s that?’

      She tapped keys, her attention riveted to the screen. ‘I’m going to the UK next month.’

      ‘Oh? Working or sightseeing?’

      ‘Both, I hope.’

      ‘Anything lined up there?’

      ‘Work-wise, not yet. I’ll take it as it comes.’

      They were cruising south along the Gold Coast Highway, negotiating the morning peak-hour traffic, and he wondered for a moment how it would feel to take off across the globe with no responsibilities and only oneself to think about.

      ‘We’ll be meeting with the building’s owner and the architect to discuss the project brief,’ he informed her. ‘You’ll find the info in the file labelled CoolCm20. Familiarise yourself with it and be prepared to add to it later.’

      They followed the bitumen past Burleigh Heads and crossed the bridge where a glimpse of turquoise water met white sand lined with Norfolk pines. Salty air with a whiff of motor fumes blew through the open window, but at this time of day he preferred the fresh morning breeze to air conditioning.

      ‘So your company offers clients advice on refurbishment projects,’ she said, looking up from the file a short time later.

      He nodded, checking his rear-view mirror before changing lanes. ‘Not only advice. We prepare a complete project brief. Should he or she wish to proceed, we initiate contracts and manage the project to completion.’ He glanced her way. ‘So you and Pam know each other?’

      She nodded. ‘We go back a long way. As a matter of fact, we’re still neighbours in the same apartment complex.’

      ‘You’re from Newcastle too, then.’

      ‘Yes. I moved up here four years ago.’

      ‘With family?’

      She shook her head and looked away towards the side window.

      ‘Boyfriend? Partner?’ he asked, glancing her way again when she didn’t elaborate. He saw her shoulders tense, her jaw tighten.

      ‘I needed a change of scenery,’ was all she said.

      Obviously it wasn’t only the scenery she’d wanted to change. Someone had hurt her. None of his business, Jared told himself. He didn’t need to know her life history. He was only interested in the Sophie who was sitting beside him right now. The one who smelled as fresh as the morning and dreamed about him.

      He couldn’t help the smile that threatened to give him away every time he thought about it. The idea of this quietly professional woman playing out those erotic fantasies with him had grasped him firmly between his thighs and wasn’t about to let go.

      Unless he did something about it …

      * * *

      Change of scenery. If only it had been that simple. Sophie refocused her gaze on the safety of the computer screen. How could she have stayed in Newcastle knowing she might bump into Glen and his new lover—his new pregnant lover? Which was inevitable given their mutual friends and working environments. She hadn’t wanted their pitying glances and platitudes so she’d moved to the Gold Coast and taken a business course.

      But recurring childhood nightmares had continued to hound her, screwing with her life, making her ill until she’d had no alternative but to seek professional help. Her counsellor had suggested a dream diary and they’d used it to work through her emotional issues. Her abused childhood, her failure as a woman. Even the fact that she’d sought help was still, to her, a failure.

      She’d come a long way since arriving in Surfers but the past still haunted her at the oddest times. A word tossed out and she was back in her childhood purgatory, her disastrous marriage. Nightmares were few and far between these days but she still recorded her dreams. A security thing, she supposed.

      At least Jared had taken the hint and not pursued further conversation as the car sped south. It gave her a moment to shake off the bad. The bad was gone, over, done, she reminded herself. As Roma had told her at her final session, good times ahead. And that was what it was all about, right? Refocusing on the present, Sophie resumed her attention to the upcoming meeting.

      She reread the document on the screen for the umpteenth time. She couldn’t remember a darn word. It was as if her mind had shut out everything except her awareness of the man beside her. Right now his forearm relaxed on the steering wheel. Suntanned, sprinkled with dark hair and sporting an expensive-looking watch, ropes of sinew shifting as he swung out from behind a truck and changed lanes.

      She jerked her eyes back to the screen. This infatuation, or whatever it was, was not going to get her paid at the end of the day. She reminded herself he was unavailable. Involved with someone else. Focused on family and his high-flying career. And most important: she wasn’t interested in getting involved.

      It should have been easy to push it aside and if it hadn’t been for that stupid dream this whole attraction thing never would have happened. Would it?

      ‘No special guy, then?’

      The question asked in that deep voice jerked her out of her self-talk and put her immediately on the defensive. She focused her gaze on the road ahead. ‘I don’t see how having a man in my life is relevant to my ability to do my job.’

      He was silent for a beat, as if considering her snarky response. Then he said, ‘I generally find women in steady relationships make for more stable employees.’

      ‘Only women?’ How sexist was that? But she didn’t say it. She’d done enough damage in the past twelve hours. She just wanted to do her job with a minimum of fuss and attention and get paid at the end of the day. Then she never had to see him again.

      ‘Rest assured, I have a strong and committed work ethic, Mr Sanderson—Jared. And while we’re on the topic, how about women in no relationship?’

      And why the heck had she said that? Was her subconscious trying to get her into trouble?

      With smooth efficiency, he overtook a shiny red Porsche. ‘Which category do you fall into?’

      ‘Does it matter?’

      ‘It might.’

      A sharp excitement stabbed through her, followed closely by one of anger. She forgot her decision not to look at him. His profile—his very strong, very masculine profile—betrayed no clue as to what he was thinking. ‘What do you mean “it might”?’

      What about Melissa? Did he think she’d forgotten? Not noticed? No matter how gorgeous his looks, no matter what she’d fantasised, she did not play the other woman. СКАЧАТЬ