Three Blind-Date Brides: Nine-to-Five Bride

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 past her to open the door. His fingers wrapped around the doorknob.

And the tension wrapped right around them, too.

‘Back away from me, Marissa. Tell me not to mess with a perfectly good working relationship. Tell me not to mess with you.’

‘You’ve been different tonight.’ She whispered the words and he braced his feet and drew her into the V of his body.

Her hand lifted to his chest and he kissed her. Pressed his mouth to hers and his body to hers, and pleasure and a feeling rightness swept through her.

‘More.’ He whispered the word.

Marissa lost herself so thoroughly in Rick’s kiss, lost senses and feelings and responses and, yes, emotions, in him. When his lips left hers to trail over her ear to the sensitive cord of her neck, she closed her eyes and let the feel of his body against hers, his hands cupping her head, her shoulders so sweetly, sweep through her.

Could a man’s touch communicate straight to the heart of not only a woman’s senses, but also her soul? It seemed so.

She clasped her hands on his shoulders, curled her fingers around his upper arms and held on. When he skirted his hands up from her waist, over her back, to where her shoulders were bared by the wide cowl neck of the dress, she shivered.

A strained, needy sound passed through his lips. It was the last thing she consciously registered for long moments as they stood by his door, their bodies tightly entwined, her resistance and grand plans in shambles. Her bag lay at her feet. She had no idea when it had landed there.

‘Say my name.’ The words were harsh and possessive, demanding and enervating. ‘I want to hear it. I don’t want you to be thinking of him—’

What did he mean? A chill rushed over her skin and all through her body. She wrenched away from him. ‘What do you know? What have you heard? About that fake engagement I believed was real? About Michael—’

‘Ah, I didn’t mean to say that.’ He pushed a hand through his hair. ‘I had to know why you left your last job, Marissa.’ His eyes were dark and turbulent. ‘The information about your personal life—I didn’t ask for it, I stopped the man when I realised where he was headed with the conversation but by then it was too late.’

‘Right. I see. So you phoned my old company to investigate why I left, and you found out things about me at that time.’ If his gaze softened into pity she would die right there, and now it all made sense. This. This was the empathy he’d displayed earlier.

‘Without meaning to find those things out, yes.’ He seemed to search for words.

Apology. Regret.

Yes, she heard them in his tone but, most of all, she heard that he knew of that embarrassment. He now probably thought she was desperate and on a manhunt. What if he thought she’d set out to hunt him? Mortification, shame and anger crashed through her. She clutched at the anger because the others were too awful to bear.

‘That call. I knew I recognised the voice.’ And Rick had closed his office door and talked about her. ‘I don’t care if you say it was business.’ Her voice shook. ‘I’d started to trust you. I can’t believe I did. What did the man tell you? That Michael Unsworth made a fool of me? What does that have to do with my good record at Morgan’s?’

‘Nothing. I didn’t want that information. I didn’t ask for it.’ He reached for her hand but she drew back.

He went on in a low voice, ‘I’m sorry he hurt you, Marissa.’

‘Well, don’t be sorry because I am totally over the way Michael treated me. I learned from it and I moved on. Was that what this kiss was about? Pity? Tell me!’

He drew a harsh breath into his lungs. ‘You know better than that. I want you in my bed and I have from the first day I had you up on that excuse for a bridge with me. Maybe you should pity me, because I can’t seem to get that desire for you out of my system, no matter what I do.’

Rick’s admission stunned Marissa into silence. More, perhaps, because of the flash of something deeper than desire that burned for a moment in his gaze before he masked it.

Oh, will you listen to yourself, Marissa? Do you want to fall for Mr Corporate a second time?

Rick had just proved his ruthlessness to her!

But he’d also apologised and seemed as though he meant it.

She scooped her bag from the floor. ‘I just want us to work together and get along and I want to follow my well thought out plans for my life in peace. Is that so much to want?’

‘It isn’t. It isn’t too much to want.’ He took a step towards her as she wrenched open the door. ‘Marissa—’

But she didn’t wait to hear what he might have said.