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Her Millionaire Boss
Jennie Adams
Chrissy Gable is determined notto be charmed by her handsome new boss Nate Barrett–he has a playboy reputation!But she quickly begins to realize why Nate is so irresistible to women–and it's not just his bank balance that's so attractive!Soon Chrissy finds herself tempted to stay after hours with Nate–even if that means risking her heart….
“Kiss me again, Christianna.”
Nate bent his head once more and acknowledged the need. For fulfillment in her, yes. Definitely that. But for other things, too. Undefined things that even now threatened him in ways he couldn’t comprehend.
“Nate.” Just his name, breathed out on the same kind of sexy little sigh that had tortured him once before.
Her response made him crazy and his imagination went wild. He pictured them together at his cottage, making love night after night.
Except Nate didn’t do night after night, with all it entailed. It was too easy to forget it in her arms. He fought for sanity. Fought to keep from losing himself. From free-falling into something that came as close to scaring him as anything could.
JENNIE ADAMS
Australian author Jennie Adams grew up in a rambling farmhouse surrounded by books, and by people who loved reading them. She decided at a young age to be a writer, but it took many years and a lot of scenic detours before she sat down to pen her first romance novel. Jennie is married with two adult children, and has worked in a number of careers and voluntary positions, including transcription typist and preschool assistant. Jennie makes her home in a small inland city in New South Wales. In her leisure time she loves long, rambling walks, starting knitting projects that she rarely finishes, chatting with friends, trips to the movies and new dining experiences
Her Millionaire Boss
Jennie Adams
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Dear Reader,
Like Chrissy Gable in this book, I enjoy growing plants and flowers—and, like Chrissy, I meet with mixed success. My latest gardening projects include six strawberry plants yielding lovely fruit—and two producing brown blobs—and a small flower garden, which I confess looks better since my daughter took over most of its care.
I love to hear from readers, and can be contacted through my Web site at www.jennieadams.net
Jennie Adams
For Mark, because my world needs your light.
For my children, my treasures always.
And for “the bats”—you know who you are.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE (#u97a1475b-6d09-595d-8d7b-318320f79662)
CHAPTER TWO (#uf29be136-9a02-56a7-8c2f-e29a83b7414e)
CHAPTER THREE (#uc13cf4de-0c09-5585-b98a-168e4f9e81eb)
CHAPTER FOUR (#udf8be1d5-cfd0-57cd-9162-dc3e44907f39)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE
‘YOU’RE not going into Henry’s sick room, Margaret. Not like this.’ Not with a lawyer at her side and greed all over her face.
Chrissy Gable took a deep breath of antiseptic-laden hospital air, and looked her boss’s second wife right in her calculating eyes. ‘His health is too precarious to risk upsetting him. Surely you can understand that?’
With her heart pounding hard, Chrissy faced the other woman. Even the usual weight of waist-length hair bundled onto her head and bound with a couple of chopsticks felt leaden at this moment. If Margaret had cared even the slightest bit for her elderly husband’s health…
Instead, she had delayed her return to Melbourne until the end of her vacation at Mount Selwyn. Why let duty interfere with her fun?
Henry didn’t deserve a wife like Margaret. He hadn’t deserved to be deserted by his grandson six years ago, either.
Nate Barrett had transferred to the overseas arm of the company just weeks before Chrissy had commenced working for Henry. The man had shucked his grandfather off like excess baggage, even though Henry had all but raised him as a son.
Chrissy had wondered if her boss would ever get over the hurt. Henry may have been recently married, but Nate’s leaving had shredded the older man’s heart. Chrissy had made it her task to help her boss through the pain. She and Henry had formed a deep bond. She would watch over him now, too.
‘Get out of my way,’ Margaret grated.
I don’t think so. Margaret might have tricked Henry long enough once to get a ring on her finger. He might now be too proud, gentlemanly or inexplicably smitten to cast the fifty-year-old off.
To Chrissy’s mind, however, the woman lacked decidedly in redeeming features. ‘Lose the lawyer, and I’ll be happy to move.’
‘I’m Henry’s wife.’ Margaret’s hands curled into fists. ‘I have every right—’
‘Every right to what? Upset him? Cause a second stroke that could be fatal?’ Did Margaret’s greed know no bounds? ‘He’s too ill to deal with a lawyer right now, so I suggest you take your Power of Attorney form and—’
‘How do you know…?’ Margaret broke off and pushed forward. ‘Out of my way. You’re just his secretary.’
The man at her side followed.
‘It’s PA, actually, and I’m not shifting.’ Chrissy held her ground in front of the closed door of the hospital room but her nerves screamed. She couldn’t let Margaret coerce Henry into signing anything. Nor could she allow the woman to have Henry declared mentally unfit.
She had to stop this, but how? One thought formed. Desperately, she snatched at it. ‘Henry came around. Was completely lucid. Earlier. While I sat with him.’
A guilty heat stole into her face at the fib, but oh, how she wished it could be true. ‘He’s perfectly capable of looking after his own affairs.’
‘That’s a lie.’ Margaret leaned forward, her thin mouth pinched. ‘He’s been as good as a vegetable since they brought him here yesterday.’
Righteous anger roared through Chrissy at Margaret’s callous attitude. ‘If I’d started work for him just a few months earlier, I’d have stopped you ever getting your snares…’ She broke off. ‘You seem to think you know an awful lot about his condition, for someone who’s only just arrived.’
‘A nurse—’ Margaret clamped her lips shut, but Chrissy got the picture. Margaret had wasted no time in ensuring she had a spy in the place.
‘Mrs Montbank has rights,’ the lawyer announced. ‘You are attempting to stand in the way of her exercising those rights.’
‘Mr Montbank has rights, too.’ Forget the slimy legal eagle, she thought, and instead she turned to Margaret again. ‘I repeat, I won’t let you in. You just want to shove Henry into Assisted Care and go your merry way, spending all his money.’
‘How dare you?’ Air hissed through Margaret’s clenched teeth. The truth of Chrissy’s accusations filled her eyes. ‘What do you know? Who’s told you—?’
‘Mrs Montbank.’ The lawyer stepped forward. ‘Let me handle this.’
‘Don’t bother.’ Chrissy spread herself before the closed door. Feet apart. Arms out. In the most threatening manner she could manage, she waggled her head and deployed the only defence she had. ‘Observe the headgear. Those are real porcelain chopsticks in there. I’ll use them if I have to!’
Margaret almost laughed, then her eyes narrowed. ‘Are you threatening me?’
‘I simply know that Henry would never willingly give you control of anything more than your budgeted allowance, Margaret—not of his personal funds, and certainly not of his business dealings. I’ll testify to it if I have to.’
‘You little tramp.’ Fury radiated from Margaret. ‘You’re probably sleeping with him, hoping to take him from me.’ She raised a clawed hand.
Now, that was too much. How dared Margaret insult Henry that way? How dared she insult Chrissy’s relationship with her boss? Without conscious thought, Chrissy raised her arm toward the buried chopsticks.
‘Thanks for holding the fort while I got some air, sweetheart.’ A man strode toward the group. Tall. Compelling. Effortlessly confident.
His turbulent blue gaze locked with hers. ‘Showing off your hairstyling abilities again, huh?’
He gave an indulgent grin that didn’t reach his eyes. ‘You shouldn’t dislodge those valuable antique chopsticks though, babe. What if you dropped one and it shattered?’
Babe? Sweetheart? Antique chopsticks? Who was this man? He made absolutely no sense. Yet the tone of his voice, the slight caress in it, the height and breadth and strength of him, all swamped her senses.
Muted sounds of hospital, of metal trolleys on polished floors, of professionals conferring in lowered tones dimmed. She saw only the man before her. Heard only her heartbeat, drumming her confusion and awareness.
When the warning in his gaze gave way to sensual heat, she knew he felt the connection, too. Long moments of still, silent acknowledgement passed between them.
She didn’t know this man, yet everything within her screamed that she did. That she had always known him, and would always know him.
‘Missed me?’ He clasped her raised arm, drew it up and around until her fingers speared into the crisp black hair at his nape. His hand covered hers, held it there as her anger subsided and confusion and awareness rose.
‘Um, well—’
‘Indeed.’ One kiss on her forehead. Another pressed against the crease at the side of her mouth. A hint of lemon and ginger on his breath.
She tasted the flavour of it from the side of her mouth with her tongue.
His gaze followed the movement, darkened, then turned to warning as hot, firm lips moved to whisper into her ear. ‘Your name?’
‘Christianna. Chrissy. Gable. Chrissy Gable.’ Or should that be Chrissy Gabble? Her thoughts struggled through the veil of weariness and stress. Struggled to come to terms with him.
This knight errant. This rescuer who had scorched her with a look and the barest of touches. Only one identity made any sense, but it couldn’t be. No way would he have bothered to come back. When people left like that, they never returned. And she would never have this sort of feeling for—
‘Ah. Henry’s PA. I should have known.’ Lean fingers traced across her skin with an exploratory insistence that belied the businesslike tone of his words.
Chrissy’s eyelids drooped behind her glasses. Just when she thought she would give in to the call of her senses and tilt her face completely into his hand, he stopped and shifted away. Cleared his throat. Blanked his face into a mask of calm determination as he faced the tableau of lawyer and avaricious wife.
‘Get rid of the lawyer, Margaret, as Chrissy has suggested. Then you can see Henry. Otherwise, there’s nothing you can achieve here.’
Margaret puffed up angrily. ‘He’s my husband—’
‘Yes. And he’ll be watched over very carefully during every moment of his recovery. Do you understand?’
A look passed between him and Margaret. Burning anger on his part. Some other sort of burning on hers. Chrissy shivered at the impact of those clashing looks.
Margaret’s hard stare glanced off her, and turned back to the man at her side. Shifted subtly into something else. ‘You haven’t even been in the country. What is she to you?’
He looked at Chrissy, looked back to Margaret. ‘It’s none of your business.’
‘You didn’t think that way once.’
‘You’re delusional.’ He examined her face with a passionless look of his own.
Margaret looked as though she would like to say more, then clamped her mouth into an unflattering line. ‘This isn’t the end. I’ll see my husband with a thousand lawyers, if I want to.’ She spun and walked away, her companion silent at her side.
Chrissy reached for a businesslike approach to counteract the way this man had made her feel. Even now, she struggled to accept that he had brought out such reactions in her.
‘You’re Nate Barrett. Henry’s grandson.’ It was the only thing that made sense. No way would Margaret have given way to anyone else. Not even for a moment.
He inclined his head. ‘I’m afraid you had the advantage over me at first.’
Despite what Chrissy might have thought of Nate Barrett in past years, despite how he had made her feel just now, he had to be informed. ‘Margaret was trying to get Power of Attorney, or get Henry declared unfit. I’m not sure exactly which, but I doubt she would stop at much to get what she wants.’
The woman’s greed was legendary. ‘I discovered by accident that Henry put her on a budget twelve months ago, but her behaviour hasn’t changed much. Except to reveal her bitterness. I hate to think what could happen if she got control within the company, or of Henry’s personal funds.’
‘She won’t be allowed to try to get at him or his money again.’ He said it with absolute conviction.
Chrissy could see the similarities to Henry now. Nate shared the tall stature, the breadth of shoulders. The Montbank stamp had honed his features into a strong, to-die-for appeal.
He doesn’t hold a to-die-for appeal for me. He can’t, because I know what he’s really like. Who was she trying to convince, though? Besides herself?
The man abandoned his grandfather. Gave Henry years of heartache.
Why had he come? What had driven him? It couldn’t be more than a momentary guilt. Her resolve to dislike him stiffened. ‘Why did you pretend we’re involved?’
