A Bride For The Brooding Boss

He tapped her on the shoulder as he spoke, and she involuntarily flinched, knew from the frown on Matt’s face he’d seen. He came over, and wrapped his arm across his father’s shoulders.

‘Let’s leave Ms Taylor to her work, Dad. Come and finish your coffee?’

Although Matt barely glanced at her screen, he gave her a reassuring nod as he led his father out. He’d seen the bogus letter she’d started typing up.

‘It’ll be cold.’

She heard the outer door open, and saw Matt’s body sag in relief.

‘Here’s Alan, Dad. He and I will drive you home and Mum will brew you another when we arrive.’

They moved out of her sight and she heard muffled exchanges then Matt’s clearer words.

‘Give me a minute. Grab that box of pods from the bench.’

He came into her room, his grateful expression telling her she’d pleased him, creating fissions of pleasure skittling from cell to cell.

‘Quick thinking, Ms Taylor, thank you. I’ll be gone for an hour or so. Joanne has a key to lock my office if you go out.’

He paused, swallowed as if there was more he wanted to say but couldn’t find the words, then disappeared leaving her with a bundle of questions she’d never be game to ask.

The man she’d just met hadn’t looked all that old but his behaviour and actions were certainly not those of a fast-thinking entrepreneur who’d built a thriving business.

She deleted the text as soon as she heard the door close, and brought up the files she’d been scanning. The events replayed in her mind as she sat, hands lightly resting on the keyboard.

Matt had been protective yet somehow detached from his father, desperate to get him out of here. He’d called this Alan to come and help, not wanting to escort him alone.

From Marcus’ remark she deduced Matt had taken over his office. A woman had worked in here so he’d been elsewhere, probably the empty room by reception. Had Marcus kept such tight control Matt had no idea what was happening in the accounts and records?

That would explain his underlying antipathy and hostile manner but why towards her? She was his solution, his last resort. She was used to being warmly welcomed and treated with respect.

Matt was an enigma, his words and tone not always matching his body language and often conflicting with the message in those stunning blue eyes. He resented whatever it was that sparked between them, and must have a reason she couldn’t fathom.

At all costs she had to find and fix his problems and get away without him finding out they had a past.

* * *

Matt quietly placed his keys into his desk drawer, wondering what he was going to say to Lauren.

My father has Alzheimer’s. He’s losing his memory. He’s lost most of his good staff in the last year, and he’s possibly screwed up the company.

His condition had escalated in the last month and Matt’s mother was finding it harder to cope. Some very tough decisions would have to be made in the near future.

Matt would never blame Marcus for anything that could be attributed to that hellish affliction. But it was his father’s screwing around that had sent him to the other side of the world. If he’d been here, possibly working with him, he’d have noticed the deterioration in time to prevent this debacle.

He would have. His fingers bunched. He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth. He would have.

Only the family, their doctor and a few select friends knew. Matt believed his chances of success hinged on keeping it a secret, and Lauren’s employer had emphasised her discretion and trustworthiness. He was about to test it to the max.

She stopped working as he came to her doorway, her face inscrutable, her eyes wary. His stomach clenched.

‘We’d better talk. Please come in here.’

Once they were seated by the window he paused to think, weighing up how much to tell her.

‘There aren’t the words to thank you enough for your understanding today. The man you saw isn’t the same person who started this company. He has Alzheimer’s.’

She leant forward. ‘I suspected something like that. I’m sorry. It must be so hard on your family.’ Empathy rang true in her voice and showed in her expression.

‘Unfortunately, he kept his illness a secret from everyone, including my mother. We have no idea how long he faked his way until the progression sped up and his errors in the business became obvious. I’d have come home sooner if I’d known.’

‘You weren’t here?’ She recoiled, eyes big and bright, fingers splayed.

She didn’t know? There’d been no reason to tell her but he’d assumed she’d guessed. He nodded. ‘I’ve been living in England for seven years.’

‘Oh. Did you ever work here with your father?’

‘In my late teens. My interests are in different fields of business.’

A pink blush spread up her neck and cheeks.

‘Is something wrong?’ He tensed, flexed his shoulders, and his hand lifted in concern.

Lauren cursed her lifelong affliction. What could possibly be wrong?

Only that the instant he mentioned his teens she remembered the balcony. Only that the sight of his mouth forming the words had her lips recalling the gentle touch of his.

‘No, and I promise never to divulge any personal or company information to anyone.’ Her hands clasped in her lap, she could barely take in that he’d shared this most personal secret with her. Now she understood.

His unplanned return from abroad to take control of a company in financial trouble explained the tension, the curtness. The urgency. She couldn’t begin to imagine the daunting task he’d had thrust upon him.

‘I’d appreciate it.’

‘You’re welcome. That’s why you wanted my scanning hidden from him and called a friend for help.’

‘He has good and bad days. Normally he becomes agitated whenever anything to do with the company is mentioned yet today he gave the taxi driver the correct address for the office. There was no hesitation in finding his way here or to the ensuite.’

‘And he remembered the girl who worked here, though not her name.’

‘He would.’ The bitterness in his voice shook her and she jerked back, receiving a half-smile in apology as he continued.

‘I was told her departure a few months ago was acrimonious to say the least. There were others who left because of his behaviour too, but replacements have to wait until you succeed and we sort everything out.’

She’d go and new staff would come. There’d be another woman at her desk, chosen by him...what was she thinking? This was not a valid reason to be depressed. Did he prefer blondes or brunettes?

Must. Stop. Thinking like this.

She snapped herself out of it and went to stand. ‘On that note, I’d better get back to my task.’

He stood, and held out his hand to help her. The warmth from his touch spread up her arm, radiating to every part of her. She doubted even ice-cold water would cool her down. She prayed he couldn’t detect her tremor and didn’t demur as he kept hold.

‘I am truly grateful, Lauren. I owe you big time and I never forget a debt.’

The message in his smouldering dark blue eyes painted a graphic picture of the form his gratitude might take, scrambling every coherent thought in her brain. Her throat dried, butterflies stirred in her stomach and it felt as if fluttering wings were brushing against every cell on her skin.

His grip tightened. Her lips parted. He leant closer.

The phone on his desk shattered the moment, and he glowered at it as he moved back, and reluctantly released her. She caught the arm of the chair to avoid collapsing into it.

His rasping, ‘We’ll talk again later,’ proved she wasn’t the only one affected.

As he picked up the handset he added, ‘Alan’s my cousin, family.’

The instant he answered the call he was in corporate mode. That irked because she needed time to compose herself, cool her skin, but he clearly didn’t. When she returned from the ensuite, he was leaning on his desk, phone to his ear, watching for her. His engaging smile and quick but thorough appraisal from her face to her feet and back threatened to undo her freshen up. Not so calm and composed after all, just better at covering it up.

* * *

Lauren closed down early, allowing time for the ride to the airport, loath to suspend her search for four days. She had an inkling of an idea she’d heard somewhere but couldn’t remember where or when. There’d be plenty of time to dwell on it in Melbourne.

Collecting her luggage, she took her report to Matt, whose stunned face and glance at his watch proved he’d forgotten her early departure.

‘That late already? Have you ordered a taxi?’

‘I’ll be fine. I’ve noticed they always seem to be driving past.’

He grinned. ‘Unless you need one. I’ll finish this page and drive you.’

‘There’s no—’

‘Humour me.’

* * *

Lauren’s knowledge of cars was limited—there wasn’t a necessity to own one in Sydney—but she recognised the Holden emblem on the grill. Matt’s quiet assurance as he eased into the traffic didn’t surprise her.

‘Did you drive in Europe?’

‘Yes, rarely in London, a lot through the country. Nowhere is too far if you can put up with dense traffic and miles of freeways. So different from Australia. Driving in Paris was a unique experience. Have you travelled?’

‘A week in Bali with friends two years ago. We’re planning a trip for this year if we can decide on a destination.’

She was aware of him glancing at her, but she kept her focus on the road where his should be.

‘You mentioned family in Melbourne. Do you visit often?’

‘Three or four times a year. This is my niece’s first Easter.’

Matt willed her to look his way. She didn’t. The ten-to-fifteen-minute drive in heavy traffic was hardly conducive to a meaningful discussion. That would have to wait until she returned.

‘Why did you move to Sydney?’ Why did he want to know? Why the long silent pause as she considered his question?

‘Why did you go to London?’

Because I couldn’t stand the sight of my parents feigning a happy marriage when it was a complete sham.

Because even moving into a rented house with friends in another suburb hadn’t given him sufficient distance.

‘Rite of passage to fly the nest and try to climb the corporate ladder without favour from associates of my father.’

‘And you succeeded. It’ll all be waiting for you when you’ve got Dalton Corporation back on track. Your family must be glad to have you home even under sad circumstances. I’m sure they’ve missed you.’

Matt picked up on the nuance in her voice, but didn’t respond as he flicked on his indicator and turned into the airport road. So she had an issue with family as well. She’d rather not go.

He pulled into a clear space at the drop-off zone and switched off the engine. Before he had a chance to walk round and assist her, Lauren had unlatched her seat belt and jumped out.

He wiped his hand across his jaw, fighting the urge to reassure her, feeling he’d left so much unsaid today. He’d make time when she came back. She was coming back, and that pleased him.

She let him lift her luggage from the boot, and seemed reluctant to say goodbye.

‘Thank you for the lift, Mr Dalton. I’ll see you on Tuesday.’

‘My pleasure. Enjoy your long weekend.’

I don’t understand why, but I’ll miss you.

CHAPTER FOUR

DRIVING BACK, MATT felt like laughing out loud at the incongruity of the situation. They could have spent time together during the four-day break, working alone, sharing lunches, maybe even dinner. Learning more about each other. Instead they’d be in different states paying lip service to family traditions.

With a complete turnaround, he wondered what the hell he was thinking. This was insane. Lauren Taylor was a temporary employee. Not his type at all. Yet he’d been so close to kissing her today in the office. The action and location were both bad ideas. So why did he wish that call hadn’t come at that moment?

And how the hell had she managed to avoid answering his question?

* * *

Lauren closed her novel, and stared at the landscape rushing by then disappearing as the plane gained height. How could she concentrate on spine-thrilling action when her mind was in turmoil because of a man? She had male friends, a few of them treasured and platonic with whom she felt completely comfortable and totally at ease.

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.