Billionaire, Boss...Bridegroom?. Kate Hardy

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СКАЧАТЬ sorry. All right. Good morning, Tarquin. How are you? Did you have a nice weekend?’

      ‘That’s better. Good, and yes, thank you. I’ll send her up. And be nice, sweet-cheeks—apart from the fact that it’s her first day, not everyone’s as vile as you are on Monday mornings.’

      ‘Yeah, yeah,’ Hugh said, but he was smiling as he put the phone down again.

      * * *

      Bella was leaning back in her chair, eyes closed, listening to the music. Lacey, the singer, had a really haunting voice, and the song was underpinned by an acoustic guitar and a cello. The whole thing was gorgeous, and it made Bella think of mountains, deep Scottish lochs, forests and fairies. Maybe she could design something with mist, and perhaps a pine forest, and...

      She yelped as she felt the tap on her shoulder; reacting swiftly, she sat bolt upright, opened her eyes and pulled off the headphones.

      Tarquin was standing next to her, his face full of remorse. ‘Sorry, Bella. I didn’t mean to give you a heart attack.’

      Bella’s heart was galloping away. ‘You did give me a bit of a fright,’ she said. ‘I was listening to the CD—it’s really good.’

      ‘Yeah, we think so, too.’ He smiled. ‘Lacey’s a bit of a character. She always performs barefoot.’

      ‘Like a fairy.’ The words were out before Bella could stop them. ‘Sorry. Ignore me. Did you want something?’

      ‘Yes. Hugh just called down. Can you go up to his office?’

      Uh-oh. This must mean that Hugh had seen her parcel and her card. And she had absolutely no idea what his reaction was going to be. ‘Um, sure,’ she said.

      ‘Don’t look so worried. The boss knows it’s your first day, so he probably just wants to say hello and welcome you to Insurgo,’ Tarquin said kindly.

      Bella wasn’t so sure. If that was the case, why hadn’t Hugh come down to the open-plan office? She had a nasty feeling that she wasn’t going to be hearing a welcome speech but a ‘goodbye and never darken our doorstep again’ speech. Clearly the parcel she’d left on her new boss’s desk hadn’t been anywhere near enough of an apology.

      Her fears must have shown on her face because Tarquin said, ‘His bark’s worse than his bite. He just isn’t a Monday morning person, that’s all. Whatever he says, don’t take it to heart, OK? Everyone else in the office will tell you the same—and if he does say something horrible to you, he’ll come and apologise to you in the afternoon when he’s human again. It’s just how he is.’

      ‘Right,’ Bella said, forcing a smile she didn’t feel. ‘I’ll, um, be back in a minute, then?’ She switched off the music, scribbled the word ‘mist’ on a pad to remind herself what she’d been thinking about, and then headed for Hugh’s office, her stomach churning. Hesitantly, she rapped on the closed door.

      ‘Come in,’ he said, sounding brusque.

      Tarquin obviously hadn’t been joking when he’d said that the boss wasn’t a Monday morning person.

      And then her jaw almost dropped when she walked in. The last time she’d seen Hugh Moncrieff, he’d been clean-shaven and wearing a formal suit. Today, he was wearing black jeans and a black T-shirt with the Insurgo Records logo on it, and his dark hair looked as if he’d dragged his fingers through it instead of combing it. Teamed with the shadow of stubble on his face, it made him look as if he’d just got out of bed. He should’ve looked scruffy and faintly disgusting. But the whole package made him seem younger and much more approachable—not to mention sexy as hell—and her mouth went dry. Oh, help. She really had to remember that he was the boss, not just another one of the team. That made him totally off limits. And, besides, she didn’t want to risk her heart again. Which gave her a double reason not to act on the desire flickering through her—even if he was the most gorgeous man she’d ever met.

      He indicated the box of chocolates sitting on his desk. ‘Why?’

      Hugh was clearly a man of few words when it came to work. Or maybe it was his Monday morning-itis. ‘Why the gift? Or why chocolates?’ she asked.

      ‘Both.’

      ‘The gift is to say thank you, because you went way beyond the call of duty on Friday night. They’re chocolates, because I can hardly buy a man flowers,’ she said. ‘Did I give you enough money to cover everything, or do I still owe you?’

      He handed her the envelope, which felt thick enough to contain most—if not all—of the money she’d enclosed with the card. ‘My shoes survived, and the taxi and dry-cleaning bill weren’t much,’ he said.

      She knew that wasn’t true. The taxi firm would’ve charged him for valeting the cab and for lost earnings while the cab was out of action, being cleaned. ‘I’d rather you kept it,’ she said, putting the envelope back on his desk. ‘To cover the inconvenience.’

      ‘No need,’ he said firmly. ‘Is your sister OK? She looked terrible.’

      Bella was grateful he hadn’t mentioned the ‘incident’. ‘Grace barely even drinks, normally,’ she said, not wanting him to think badly of her sister. ‘Friday was totally out of character for her. She’s the sensible and together one who sorts everything out; I’m the flaky and unreli—’ She stopped mid-word, realising what she was about to blurt out. ‘Not when it comes to my job, obviously. I’m very together where my work is concerned,’ she added swiftly.

      ‘But in your personal life you’re flaky and unreliable?’ he asked.

      ‘Not unreliable, even—just the one who opens her mouth without thinking things through,’ she said ruefully. ‘As you’ve just heard.’

      ‘But you rescued your sister when she needed your help,’ he said softly. ‘That definitely counts in your favour. Is she OK?’

      ‘She will be,’ Bella said. ‘I’ve never known her to drink three glasses of champagne in a row, let alone on an empty stomach. I think that’s why... Well. What happened, happened,’ she finished, squirming slightly.

      ‘Thank you for the chocolates. They’re appreciated,’ he said. ‘And you have good taste.’

      ‘I have good taste in a lot of things.’ And then, when she saw the momentary flicker in those amazing blue eyes, she wished the words unsaid. ‘I wasn’t flirting with you,’ she added quickly.

      His expression said, much. ‘Take the money,’ he said. ‘I don’t need it. Use it to take your sister out to dinner or something.’

      ‘Just no champagne, right?’

      This time, he smiled. ‘Right. Welcome to Insurgo, Ms Faraday.’

      ‘Thank you, Mr Moncrieff.’ Formality was good. It put distance between them. And it would stop her getting crazy ideas about a man with a mouth that promised sin and eyes that promised pleasure. Ideas she most definitely couldn’t let herself act upon.

      ‘Are you settling in all right?’ he asked.

      ‘Yes. Tarquin’s given me my first brief and I’m working on it now. The limited edition single.’ She paused. СКАЧАТЬ