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A Bride For The Brooding Boss
A Bride For The Brooding Boss
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A Bride For The Brooding Boss

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There were none who made her forget to breathe, who created fire in her core and sent her pulse into an erratic drumbeat. The thought of the magic those now skilful lips might evoke had her quivering with anticipation, earning her an anxious mutter from the older woman in the adjacent seat.

She gave her a reassuring smile, and turned back to the window. The fantasies she’d concocted for the last ten years had been childish daydreams based on teenage romance. The two relationships she’d drifted into had been more from affable proximity than passion. That they’d remained friends to this day proved how little anyone’s heart had been involved.

No way would any woman accept friendship after an affair with Matt Dalton. His touch created electrical fissions on her skin, turned her veins into a racecourse and curled her toes. If they ever made it to the bedroom... She gulped in air, imagining the tanned, hot muscles he hid under expensive executive shirts.

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’

Her head swung round to meet a concerned gaze.

‘Yes, thank you. I’m fine.’

Opening her book, she pretended to read, flipped pages and didn’t take in a solitary word.

* * *

Late on Saturday night Lauren curled into the pillows in the guest bedroom, wondering what Matt was doing. She almost wished she’d gone with her parents and the grandchildren to visit friends. Her brothers were having the inevitable barbecue in the back garden.

She’d spent a great day with friends from university, who had insisted on driving her home, dropping her off at the corner because of all the cars parked in the street. Deciding to try to be more sociable, she’d attempted to join in with her brothers’ party.

She’d lasted ten minutes among the raucous crowd, with whom she had little in common, then she’d finished her sausage sandwich, drained the soft drink can and said goodnight. A chorus of, ‘Night, little sister!’ had followed her into the house, most of it slurred.

She’d gone slowly up the stairs, reappraising her attitude to her upbringing. Had she been the one to pull away, uneasy with the openness of the rest of her family? Had she taken their leave-her-in-peace approach for indifference?

Not understanding why she’d begun to analyse her relationships, she’d shaken it away. She had a good life, a great job and supportive friends. Maybe she’d talk it through with them when she went home.

Putting on headphones and turning her music up loud, she’d logged into her computer and accessed her favourite game, which necessitated super concentration, blocking everything else out.

Now it was quiet except for an occasional passing vehicle. Was Matt asleep? Did he live alone or with his parents? Did he have siblings? There were so many questions that might never be answered.

* * *

Matt laughed out loud as he stood chest-high in his parents’ pool on Sunday afternoon, pretending to fight off his nephews. He picked up Drew, the youngest, and tossed him, squirming and shrieking, about a metre away. Alex immediately latched onto his upper arm.

‘Me next, Uncle Matt. Me next.’

He obliged, knowing this game could last until they were exhausted. He was surprised they had so much energy after the active Easter egg hunt around the garden this morning. One after the other, they kept coming at him and he revelled in their joy of the simple pleasure. They rejuvenated him whenever he was with them.

These were the times he regretted never marrying, and having children of his own. He took a splash of water in the face, shook his head, and laughed again. Hell, he wasn’t even thirty, he had plenty of time.

He grabbed them both, one in each arm. Knowing what was coming, they giggled and clung to his neck. ‘Deep breath.’ Taking one himself, he dropped to the bottom of the pool, bending his legs to give him leverage. Pushing up, he surged from the water in a great spray, their happy squeals deafening him.

‘Again. Again.

‘Time out.’

His sister, Lena, was walking across the lawn carrying a tray of drinks and snacks. He let the boys go and they immediately swam for the ladder. Hoisting himself up onto the side, he took the beer she offered. She sat beside him, letting her feet dangle into the water, and studied him as he drank.

‘What?’ He looked at her and grinned. ‘Am I in trouble?’

She shook her head as her eyes roamed over his face, and rested a caring hand on his arm. ‘There’s something different about you, Matt. I can’t quite work out what.’

‘I’m bone-tired, grabbing fast food most days and need a haircut.’

And I am inexplicably missing a woman I have only known for three days.

‘Nothing’s changed there since I last saw you. Bigger problems at work? No, that you’d handle in your usual indomitable manner.’

She tilted her head and arched her eyebrows, a ploy that usually produced a confession. They were as close as siblings could get but Lauren was new and he hadn’t quite worked out how and why she affected him. And what he was going to do about it.

‘Every trip you made home I hoped you’d have found peace from whatever drove you to go so far away. It never happened though you hid it well, and I know you only came now because Dad needed you.’

He didn’t reply because he couldn’t explain. He shrugged, put his arm around her and drew her close.

‘I missed you, Mark and the boys more than I can say, Lena. You’re the biggest plus on the side of me staying for good.’

Her face lit up at his remark he was considering relocating back to Adelaide. He meant it, wanted to be here for all his nephews’ milestones. Skype was no substitute for personal hugs.

She kissed his cheek. ‘You’ll tell me when you’re ready. In the meantime, add an extra plus sign.’

He frowned then grinned even wider and bear-hugged her. ‘That’s great. When?’

‘November. You’re the first to know.’

‘Whatever happens I’ll be here.’ It was a promise he intended to keep.

When the boys went inside with their mother, he slid back into the water, working off restless energy with strong freestyle laps. His strokes and turns were automatic, leaving his mind to wonder what Lauren was doing and who she was with. And why the hell it was beginning to matter to him.

* * *

‘Hang on, Lauren. The door’s locked.’

Lauren turned her head towards the sound. It was ten past seven on Tuesday morning. Where was Matt? He’d said nothing about being absent today.

Joanne appeared, carrying a small bunch of keys, and they walked along the corridor.

‘Mr Dalton’s at a site meeting in the northern suburbs, called me last night. If he’s not back by morning break, I’ll join you for coffee.’ She pushed the door open and left.

Being alone in the office didn’t daunt Lauren, who’d always preferred having no surrounding noise or motion. Today her body was all keyed up as if waiting for some fundamental essential that was missing.

She had no interruptions until ten-thirty when Joanne walked in carrying a plate of home-baked jam slices.

‘Family favourite. Let’s sit by the window. Tea or coffee?’

‘Tea, thanks.’

Lauren never indulged in gossip at work. She couldn’t define why she felt tempted now, unless it was because Matt Dalton had invaded her peace of mind, and aroused her curiosity. The more she learnt about him, the easier it might be to resist him. If she couldn’t she knew who’d end up heartbroken.

‘How long have you worked for the Daltons?’

‘Over six years. Since my youngest started secondary school. Of course, that was in a smaller office near the parklands. I like having familiar faces around. How do you cope, travelling and working with new people all the time?’

‘I prefer it. I’m not much of a people person, never quite got the hang of casual socialising.’

‘Mr Dalton senior was a natural and had no problems persuading people to invest with him. He was good with computers, installing quite a few new programs himself, and very easy to work for until a few years ago. We lost good long-term staff because he became secretive and less approachable.’

‘And now Matt’s in charge.’

Of everything. Thankfully he was unaware that included her emotions, unaware of how intriguing she found him.

‘He came back from Europe when his father’s heart trouble was diagnosed. Put a great career on hold, I understand, and not very happy to be here. I’m not sure whether it’s the business, the problems or having to leave London, maybe all of them. He’ll be heading back once his father’s in full health again.’

Lauren let her babble on, regretting she’d instigated the topic. Matt had led her to believe he trusted Joanne yet he’d given the staff a fabricated story and let them believe his father would be coming back.

Did he really think any of them were involved in the computer anomalies? If not, it was cruel of him to give them false hope. Why did he keep giving out mixed messages? Or was she misinterpreting them?

Oh, why wasn’t he older, content with a doting wife, and heading for a paunch from all her home cooking?

* * *

Lauren’s mobile rang as she wrote notes on the last hour’s work. Convincing Matt of her beliefs wasn’t going to be an easy task.

‘Ms Taylor, I need a favour.’

No preamble. No ‘how are things going?’ And the rasping tone was rougher. Why did she sympathise with his stress when he obviously intended to unload some of it onto her?

‘Yes, Mr Dalton.’

‘This is taking longer than I anticipated. If a Duncan Ford arrives at the office while I’m out, can you entertain him until I arrive?’

‘Me?’

Meet and socialise with an unknown corporate executive?

Dealing with them when they needed her skills and the conversation centred on their technical problems was a world away from casual chit-chat. Knowing she was capable gave her confidence.

‘You. Will it be a problem? Joanne’s compiling figures for our meeting later.’ He sounded irritated at her reluctance.

‘That’s not what I do. The few businessmen I’ve met have only been interested in how quickly I can fix their problems. A comment about the weather is as personal as we’d get.’

‘It won’t be for long. I’ll be there in an hour or so, depending on traffic.’

She heard another voice in the background, followed by his muttered reply.

‘Please, Ms Taylor. He’s just a man.’

Yeah, like you’re just a man.

His coaxing tone teased goose bumps to rise on her skin, and the butterflies in her stomach to take flight. She’d do it for him, and he knew it. She could hardly tell him fear of messing it up for him contributed to her reticence.

‘Give him coffee. Ask him about the weekend football or his grandkids. Pretend he’s an android.’

She pictured him grinning as he said that, and sighed.

‘Okay, I’ll try.’

After an abrupt ‘thanks’ he hung up, leaving her with a sinking stomach and a strong craving for chocolate, her standby for stress. Grabbing her bag, she raced for the lift and the café in the next building, mentally plotting dire consequences for all the too-good-looking, excessively privileged, overly confident males who’d ever tried to manipulate her. Including her three brothers.

* * *

‘Mr Ford has arrived, Lauren. I’ll bring him along.’ Joanne phoned to give her warning.

Shoot. Only ten minutes since Matt called to say he was finally on his way. She swallowed a mouthful of water, pulled her shoulders back and prayed she didn’t look as apprehensive as she felt. On her way through his office she added an extra plea he had a clear traffic run.

Mr Ford was average height, slightly overweight, and wore an apologetic smile. So much for Matt’s word picture. He also held a small boy by the hand.

‘Ms Taylor? Thank you for offering to look after us until Matt gets here.’

Offering? Us? Someone tall and desperate had bent the truth a tad.

‘You’re welcome. Come on in.’ She indicated towards the armchairs. ‘Please take a seat. Would—?’

Squealing with excitement, the child had broken free and was running to the window.

‘Look, Granddad. Look how high we are. Look at the tiny cars way down there.’


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