Brides, Babies And Billionaires. Rebecca Winters

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СКАЧАТЬ A perception of unleashed power bunched in his shoulders, a dogged single-mindedness showed in his concentration. The untrimmed ends of his thick hair brushed the collar of his shirt, out of character to her perception of a smart, city businessman.

      His mug had been pushed to the edge of his desk, presumably empty. She picked it up, startling him.

      ‘Would you like a refill?’

      He nodded. ‘Thanks. Flat white from the machine, one sugar. How’s it going?’

      ‘Progressing. Do you want details?’

      His eyes narrowed.

      She pre-empted his next remark. ‘People who hire me have varying knowledge of technology and require different levels of explanation.’ Many don’t like to betray their ignorance in the field. ‘My daily report will be comprehensive.’

      ‘Do whatever’s necessary to get results. I’ll read the report.’ Again an undertone of irritation further roughened his voice, a darkening glint of angst flashed in his eyes.

      Matt made a note in red at the top of the paper in front of him, and regretted being repeatedly terse with her. He closed his eyes, clasped his neck, and arched his back. He felt bone tired from sitting, reading, and trying to make sense of his father’s recent actions.

      He wished he could shake the guilt for not being around, for not noticing the subtle changes on his trips home for family occasions. Maybe if he’d spent more one-on-one time with Marcus he would have. Instead he’d apportioned blame without considering it was their lives, their marriage. For nine years he’d kept physical and emotional distance from two of the most important people in his life.

      He heard the soft clunk of a mug on wood. By the time he straightened and looked, a steaming coffee sat within reach, and Lauren was disappearing into her room. She’d discarded the light jacket she’d worn on arrival. Tired as he was, the male in him appreciated her slender figure, her trim waist. The pertness of her bottom in the grey trousers.

      Inappropriate. Unprofessional.

      As he drank the strong brew the sound of a quirky ringtone spun his head. The friendliness of Lauren’s greeting to someone called Pete rankled for no reason. Her musical laughter ignited a heat wave along his bloodstream.

      He strode to the ensuite to splash water on his face and cool down.

      * * *

      ‘Hey, it’s nearly twelve o’clock.’

      Lauren started, jerking round to see her temporary boss standing in the doorway, the remoteness in his eyes raising goosebumps on her skin. She blinked and checked her watch.

      ‘Two minutes to go. Are you keeping tabs on my schedule?’ Some clients did.

      ‘Not specifically.’ He moved further into the room, closer to her desk. To her.

      Her pulse had no right to rev up. Her lungs had no right to expand, seeking his masculine aroma.

      ‘Your work’s high intensity.’ His neutral tone brought her to earth.

      ‘I’ve learnt how to manage it. Results take patience and time.’

      He gave a masculine grunt followed by a wry grin. ‘The latter’s not something we have plenty of. Take a lunch break. I need you fully alert.’

      Eight floors by foot before taking the elevator to the ground helped keep her fit. She smiled and walked out into the light drizzle. Adelaide was like a new city waiting to be explored. Chomping on a fresh salad roll, she strolled along, musing on that dour man, wondering what, or who, had caused the current situation. And why Marcus Dalton was no longer in charge.

      Matt was clearly related. He bore a strong resemblance to the photograph on the website she’d accessed. Even with the ravages of the trauma he was under, he was incredibly handsome with an innate irresistible charisma. Was he married? In a relationship?

      She chastised herself, chanting silently, Never let anyone get to you on assignments. Stupid and unprofessional, it could only lead to complications and tears. However, she had never been in this situation before...she’d never been kissed by one of her clients.

      * * *

      ‘There’s definitely a recurrent anomaly. Finding when it started may tell me how and what,’ Lauren informed Matt as she gave him her report prior to going home.

      She was leaning towards it being deliberate because of the number of identical anomalies. No reason to mention she had no idea how it had been achieved.

      He nodded and dropped the report in a tray. ‘How’s the hotel? I asked Joanne to book somewhere not too far out.’

      ‘Oh.’ Was he trying to be sociable? Make amends for his abruptness? ‘Very nice, and my room overlooks the parklands.’

      ‘Not too noisy on that corner?’

      She couldn’t suppress her grin. ‘I live in Sydney, remember. You tune it out or drown it with music.’

      His gaze held hers for an eon, or longer. The darkening in the midnight-blue coincided with heat tendrils coiling through her from a fiery core low in her abdomen. Her eyes refused to break contact, her mouth refused to say goodbye. Her muscles refused to obey the command to turn her away.

      It was Matt who broke the spell, flinching away and shaking his head. His chest heaved as his lungs fought for air. He clenched his fists to curb the impulse to—no, he wouldn’t even think it.

      ‘Did you bus or taxi?’ He didn’t particularly care but was desperate to keep the conversation normal. To ignore those golden specks making her eyes shine like the gemstones in his mother’s extensive jewellery collection. His voice sounded as if he’d sprinted the last metres of a marathon.

      ‘I walked. It’s not that far.’

      His eyebrows shot up. ‘Walked?’ To and from a bus stop or taxi rank was the furthest most women he knew went on foot, apart from in shopping centres.

      She shrugged. ‘Beats paying gym fees and clears my head.’

      ‘I guess. Just take care, okay.’ He had no reason to worry, yet he did.

      ‘Always. Good afternoon, Mr Dalton.’

      ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Ms Taylor.’

      As soon as she’d gone he slumped in his chair, stunned by his reaction to her smile, quick and genuine, lighting up her face. His pulse had hiked up, his chest tightened. And his body had responded quicker and stronger than ever before.

      His fingers gripped the armrests as he fought for control. This shouldn’t, couldn’t be happening. Women, all women were out of bounds at the moment. Even for no-strings, no-repercussions sex. She was here on a temporary basis. She was an employee, albeit once removed.

      He groaned. She was temptation.

      He forced his mind to conjure up visions of the life he’d left behind in London, crowded buses and packed Tubes, nightclubs, cafés and old pubs. Teeming, exciting. Energising. Attractive, fashionably dressed women СКАЧАТЬ