Daring to Date the Boss / The Tycoon Who Healed Her Heart: Daring to Date the Boss / The Tycoon Who Healed Her Heart

That smile, not to mention the fear crouching beneath it, left Armand more confused by the moment; all his assumptions had been torn away. From the moment he’d seen her start at the sound of his voice, the fear in her eyes too genuine to deny, the pieces had fallen apart. The rubbing of her wrist left Armand to re-form a puzzle he didn’t want to put back together. More than most people, he knew that fame and wealth did not guarantee a happy, trouble-free life.

Rachel wasn’t hiding in his resort just to build suspense to the right pitch before granting an exclusive interview to some glossy magazine for the requisite six or seven figures.

‘Your need for privacy exactly tallies with my own wishes. I’m about to purchase land for my third resort. Like my first one, it’s on the French side of the Swiss Alps. The local authorities investigate all new building projects thoroughly; complaints from my current guests are the last thing I need until the deal goes through. So, by solving both our problems this way, the work on my new resort will go ahead smoothly—if you’ll agree to my deal.’

He’d hoped to have her hooked by this time, but she half-tilted her head away from him, her gaze riveted to something about four inches from his face. ‘I’m listening,’ was all she said, but with the air of waiting for the axe to fall on her.

He leaned forward, hands on the table. ‘I stay here as usual, and will order a whole range of groceries to be delivered here, whatever you need. That won’t cause remark, as I often cook for myself. Some lunches and dinners I will spend in the resort with the guests, but I’ll be here the rest of the time. That’s my normal routine and we don’t need to break it. If by any chance someone sees you or us together, it’s easy for me to pretend to be indulging in a private romance with a mystery woman. Your name will never be mentioned. I’ll deal with inquisitive people.’ He lifted his brow with a cool, imperious air.

She bit her lip over that stunning, alive smile that filled her face. It made her look like a naughty conspirator. ‘I can see how that would work. I certainly wouldn’t ask, if you looked at me like that.’

He held in the grin; her mercurial moods were as infectious as they were baffling. ‘No member of the press can come unannounced through the gates onto the resort land, since the resort is solidly booked for months in advance. The only way in is through the dated key-card we send guests, and everyone that comes here wants the same level of privacy you need. If you stay here, you’ll have the luxury of being able to say nothing. If you cover yourself when you go out, and don’t talk to anyone but my staff, there is no reason that anyone should recognise you.’

‘You did,’ she pointed out. ‘Your staff did.’

He gave her a wry smile. ‘I heard your voice before I saw your face. It’s the voice that gives you away. Your show is on several channels here, dubbed into Italian, French or German for three of them, but the English cable-channel uses your face and voice for an advertisement for the show.’

She frowned and sighed. ‘I thought I’d be anonymous here.’

‘You are what you are, Rachel, but only for as long as you choose to stay famous. If you want to walk away from the life, people begin to forget soon enough and you can get on with whatever it is you want to do with your future.’

He’d spoken almost harshly, yet she smiled at him as if he’d handed her the key to the door of freedom. ‘Thank you,’ she said very softly, her eyes alight with relief, her entire face wreathed in the brilliance of her smile.

He had to wrench his gaze from her. When she came alive like that, it almost hurt him to look. ‘We can keep the pretence up for as long as you need.’

‘Oh, Armand … You don’t know what you just said, do you?’

Jerked back by her first use of his name, by the wonder in her tone, he saw the whole room had come alight with the force of that marvellous smile. It was so bright he fought the urge to blink and turn away. ‘What?’ he asked, fighting to keep his tone even and smooth. For years, he’d kept the façade seamless. How did she pull apart the edges of his control like that and look inside his soul without trying?

‘I might want a year, two years—and then you’d be stuck with me,’ she quipped, but wryly, so self-mockingly, he wondered if she had any plans to return to her public life. He noticed that she’d neatly sidestepped his subtle query on how much time she’d need with the lame joke.

His brows lifted. ‘I doubt it,’ he said, just as dryly. ‘There’s just one personal question I must ask: is there a prospective Mr Chase on the horizon to upset our plans?’

That subtle stiffening of her shoulders spread across her face and body. With deliberate grace, she sipped at coffee that must be nearly cold by now. ‘No.’

Though there was an invisible sign screaming ‘back off’ in neon letters, he forged on. ‘And there’s no chance of your reconciling with Dr Pete?’

She stilled for a few ticks of the clock, a few moments that seemed for ever. Her fingers rubbed absently at her right wrist again. It was an unconscious movement, a picture that told a million words he didn’t want to read. It was almost a full minute before she spoke. ‘No.’

Again, it was all she said. Though he waited another full minute for her to continue, she merely lifted her brows and turned her face to the big French cross-beamed doors leading to the balcony. She stared out over the terrasse to the Alpine peaks soaring above them with so much absent absorption, it bordered on rudeness.

In Armand’s experience, the less he said, the more a woman rushed to fill the silence. But Rachel sat silently, with a half-defiant smile that told him she didn’t care what he thought. No details given, not even an explanation as to why there was emphatically no man to fill the void Dr Pete had left.

When she remained stubbornly silent, he tossed a bomb to make her speak. ‘Don’t you want to know what I wish in return?’

Without looking at him, she said without expression, ‘You’ve already told me, I think. You want me to endorse the new resort for you, to extol the privacy and luxury of this one too, perhaps. You want me to bring other celebrities to your new resort when it’s built. You want me to advertise your resorts.’

By now he wasn’t taken aback by her perceptive guess—but he noticed that she didn’t even ask if she was right. ‘Yes, that is what I want,’ he said with a similar lack of animation, hiding how damned important it was to him. Someone as loved around the world as Rachel Rinaldi could help him crack the lucrative upper-end of the American market, and she’d fallen right into his lap. He could make the deal without months of negotiations and the endless hassle of speaking through lawyers and agents. He studied her face for a reaction. ‘Is it a deal?’

She shrugged with that slow elegance that felt like a wall being erected brick by brick. ‘I’m willing to do it, if you’re satisfied with such a poor bargain.’

He almost laughed in her face. Getting a woman as world-renowned as Mrs Pete to endorse his resorts was a coup of marvellous proportions for him, and she had to know it. ‘A poor bargain?’ he asked, tilting his head in clear enquiry. ‘Come on, Ms Chase, stop fishing for compliments. The whole world knows you were the one who caused the ratings jump in your husband’s show when it began failing. I’ve heard about the offer made to you since your split with Dr Pete. Your fans demanded you have your own chat show, taking Dr Pete’s place.’

‘That’s no surprise. Thanks to my, eh, husband’s public announcements about his love life and mine, half the world has heard about the offer.’

‘It’s all over the Internet and the news. People want to know where you are, what you’re up to.’

‘Trending now,’ she retorted in a self-mocking tone. She turned to him at last, but those big eyes were filled with an odd blend of self-deprecating humour and challenge. ‘But did you see that I’d accepted the offer? Is your idea contingent on my signing up for the show? You may be destined for disappointment.’

‘I wasn’t thinking of having my resort endorsed by a has-been, despite being one of the ilk myself,’ he said curtly.

‘I doubt anyone would call you a has-been. From what I hear, you chose to walk away from acting at the peak of your career—and this resort is truly beautiful without being overly opulent or flashy.’

He said, touched by the genuine praise, ‘Thank you, Rachel.’

She made a thoughtful face. ‘You know, when you think about it, loads of products get excellent endorsement returns from the average has-been.’ When he least expected it, she grinned. ‘I guess the regular Joe on the street will be able to identify with someone like me. My work has always been among the normal people. You’re quite perceptive, Herr Bollinger. It may turn out to be a sound business plan, if only your average schmuck could afford to stay here.’

She’d given away more than she knew. ‘So Dr Pete lied about the reconciliation and leaving you for the other woman in the first place? You’re not taking the job, either?’

Her cheerful demeanour vanished in an instant. ‘No comment.’

He squared his shoulders and sat back, only then realising he’d leaned forward, his hand almost touching hers across the table. What the hell had he been thinking to ask? He’d always prided himself on his discretion. So why had he asked?

Because, until now, women have told me their life story without my needing to make an effort. Rachel is my first failure since I was a teenager.

In an attempt to lighten the suddenly charged atmosphere, he said, ‘By the way, this is not the place to say “schmuck” to mean a person. People won’t understand. The original word means jewellery, mostly used, but it’s a general term.’

Her brows lifted, her darkness vanished in an instant. ‘My, how words change meaning in other languages!’ And she laughed, a rippling sound, loud and free. When she laughed, Rachel Chase laughed from the heart, and it made him want to laugh with her.

She was a constant surprise to him. Learning the little he knew about her had felt like he’d been pulling teeth, yet it left him feeling oddly fascinated, with a desire to know more.

Rachel was far from his usual type of woman. There was a sense that she’d left the most delicious parts of her conversation unspoken. Perhaps that was the source of his interest? ‘Maybe the meaning is not so different,’ he suggested, to discover what she’d say. Learning a single fact about this woman took more digging than he’d ever needed before. ‘It’s still something used, something tossed aside because someone no longer wanted it.’

She pulled a thoughtful face, looking like a pensive pixie. ‘That makes sense. We Americans merely made the leap from thing to person. Poor schmuck,’ she said again, and laughed. As if the sun had come out from behind clouds, the room seemed to light up with her face.

Armand had to drag his gaze away and get back to the business at hand. ‘So are you agreeable to my idea? If so, I’ll bring my suitcase in. Which bedroom are you using?’

She pointed to a door.

‘Ah, my mother’s old room.’ Before she could do more than briefly look horrified, he put up a hand. ‘Maman lives in her own house a few hours’ flight from here. She visits a few times a year. She’s not coming until summer now. She would be the first to say you’re welcome, Rachel.’ The name kept slipping so naturally from his lips, he barely noticed. ‘I’ll keep my room. The third is now a study, if you’ve noticed, with wireless Internet and computer. I can work in the hotel for a few hours a day, and if you need to work—’ he saw her stiffen again and added ‘—or need to keep up your communications, feel free.’

‘Thank you.’ Her voice was subdued, but she neither confirmed nor denied the subtle probe. It seemed he’d finally met the woman who didn’t want or need to defend herself against the accusations her ex had levelled at her. Whatever the truth was inside the story of Dr and Mrs Pete’s break-up, Rachel Chase obviously did not want or need to unburden herself to a stranger about her life, no matter how much he was helping her.

He didn’t care if she wanted to keep to herself—actually, it was quite refreshing. So from now on she would have what she wanted from him: peace and quiet.

‘I need to work for a couple of hours. I’ll be back before dinner.’ He gathered the lunch plates and coffee paraphernalia on one tray and stacked the other beneath. ‘There’s no point in hiding that I have a guest stying with me when people saw you take the tray. Do you mind if I order dinner for us? Is there anything you don’t like? What do you like to drink—wine, water, soft drinks?’

‘I don’t eat really spicy food, it burns my stomach,’ she confessed with a fledgling smile.