At The Boss's Command: Taking on the Boss / The Millionaire Boss's Mistress / Accepting the Boss's Proposal

‘My father’s a lawyer,’ Case said, drawing his hand back and straightening his setting. ‘I think it was my mother’s way of tackling his workaholic nature. She’s a psychologist. Decided all she had to do to get him to switch on to giving me attention was to say my name. Case wants you. Spend some time on Case.’

‘Did it work?’

‘Yeah, pretty much.’ He shrugged, picking up the bottle of wine from the ice bucket. ‘Unless there was a case more important.’

‘Case priorities?’ she said softly, fighting a smile. She was glad her mother wasn’t the only strange one in the world. ‘I’m sorry… I do know the feeling.’

‘Your dad’s into work in a big way?’ Case asked, filling her glass.

‘Yes. He was.’

‘Was? He’s retired?’

She glanced around the busy restaurant—the tables all full, the soft murmur of couples doing little to ease the tension that pounded in her chest. ‘Deceased.’

‘I’m sorry. How did—’

‘So am I.’ Tahlia gripped her glass. ‘Is your dad retired?’

‘No. Still working, much to my mother’s dismay. She’s got a list a mile long of all the places she wants to go to, all the things she wants to see, and still he keeps on working.’

‘That’s sad. Does she have hobbies?’ she rushed on, eager to get as far from the issue of her father as quickly as possible.

‘Yes. Me.’

Tahlia couldn’t help but smile, relief washing through her at his dropping the subject of her father. ‘Let me guess… You’re her only child and she’s trying to get you married off so you can give her grandchildren, probably contacts you…almost daily…to ensure her plight is foremost in your mind at all times.’

Case laughed. ‘Spot on. How did you know?’

‘I’m an only child too.’ And she’d been hoping for years that her mother would start behaving like everyone else’s and care about that stuff. Now she was… Tahlia wasn’t so sure she liked it.

‘And your mother is after grandkids?’

Tahlia took a sip of the deep bold claret. ‘Always on my back.’ He didn’t have to know it was all about work, at least until tonight.

‘I guess it’s part of the job description. You’ll be just the same when you have kids.’

‘No way. I’m going to be nothing like my mother,’ Tahlia bit out. Visions leapt to her of her mother curled into a shattered ball on the bed she’d shared with her father, the days of tears, the weeks of silence, the haunted look in her eyes, still.

‘That’s what they all say,’ Case said lightly, but he couldn’t help but notice the stricken look on her face. ‘What? Have I said something…anything to—?’

‘Nothing,’ she said lightly, picking up the menu. ‘Let’s order. I’m starving. Chefs in places like these take for ever in getting food to the table.’

Case nodded, picking up his menu, casting his eyes over the list of cuisine his restaurant offered. She may have guessed he brought all his women here, but not why. And she wouldn’t be able to fault the service. Everyone knew who he was…and no one disappointed the boss.

He gripped the menu, the words blurring. He was bursting to tell her.

Case took a gulp of the red wine. For the first time since Celia he wanted to tell a woman all about himself, all his assets, all his achievements, including making this struggling enterprise one of the top five restaurants in Melbourne.

He wanted to impress Tahlia, see her awe, hear her praise, see a warmth in those sea-green eyes that was just for him. ‘You do want kids, though?’

Tahlia glanced up, her eyes wide. ‘Ye-es, at a later stage I would like to have a couple of children,’ she said carefully. ‘But I wouldn’t bring them into a relationship that wasn’t absolutely totally stable and loving.’

‘Me neither.’ He lifted his arm and a waiter arrived at the table at the ready. ‘I’d like the quail entrée, Piper’s Peppered Steak with the Chef’s Best Salad and the Raspberry and Apple Pie with cream.’

The waiter turned to her.

‘Quail,’ she said, nodding to Case, her eyes bright. ‘The chicken breast with garden salad and a chocolate cheesecake.’

‘Is your mother local?’ he asked, watching her take a sip of the red wine, her lips almost as dark, looking as rich and sweet as cherries, just begging to be tasted.

‘Ye-es,’ she said slowly, her gaze on him. ‘My mother took a job here just after I first moved to Melbourne to work with WWW Designs. I don’t blame her for coming too. I wouldn’t want to be all alone and she is all alone and I understand that I’m all she has and all—’

Case heard the flood of sweet words from her mouth, saw the shine in her eyes as she dropped her gaze to the setting in front of her, and wanted her. Desperately, totally wanted her…never to be alone.

He swallowed hard. ‘God, you’re beautiful.’

Tahlia glanced up at him, a soft flush on her cheeks. ‘You don’t have to resort to flattery to get me to talk,’ she said casually. ‘Shoe size? Seven and a half. How I take my coffee? Black with no sugar. Where I go on holiday? Anywhere that has a seminar that can help my career. So what do you want to know?’

Case shook his head. ‘Can’t a guy make an honest comment about his date’s extraordinary beauty without it being taken as a means to an end?’

She shook her head. ‘No.’

A waiter moved between them brandishing their entrées, the sweet scent of the freshly roasted delicacy wafting around them.

‘You seem dedicated to work.’ Case stripped the small quail of its meat, the prized morsels melt-in-the-mouth soft. ‘Your file is impressive. You’ve done a lot in a few short years.’ He glanced at her, trying to make her out.

She placed her hands in front of her. ‘So you finally read my file.’

Finally, for the twentieth time. She was twenty-six years old and had worked diligently, pursuing her career, yet still seemed so young and innocent in so many ways. ‘You mustn’t have had time for much of a personal life.’

Tahlia put down her fork, staring at him. ‘No, not much of one, but I’ve had my fair share of boyfriends.…if that’s what you’re asking.’

Case shook his head. ‘You are amazingly frank, Miss Moran.’

‘You are incredibly nosey, Mr Darrington. Anyone would think you have an ulterior motive.’

‘I do.’

‘Oh?’

‘I’m seriously interested in all my employees, but I don’t usually take them out for dinner.’

‘And why am I so different?’ she asked softly, watching him with narrowed eyes.

‘Because you fascinate me.’

She stared at her plate. ‘I—’

He’d scared her away. He could see the hesitation in her eyes, hear it in her voice, feel it in every aching muscle in his body.

‘Not that I don’t usually bend my principles for a pretty woman,’ he blurted. ‘Or go after something I want…’ Dammit, he was digging himself deeper.

She glanced up at him, a soft gleam in her eyes and a knowing smile just touching her lips. ‘I know.’

Case leant back in his seat, watching her. Whatever she thought she knew, it made her happier and more relaxed. Who was he to argue?

Whatever she was thinking had put a smile on her face that glowed with a vibrancy that tantalised him.

It couldn’t be bad.

Chapter Fourteen

Emma’s rule number two: make love, not war.

TAHLIA chewed on her bottom lip, walking slowly to her front door, every footfall thundering through a body too alert, too aware of Case so close behind her, the warmth of his suit jacket around her shoulders smothering her with his spicy cologne mixed all too enticingly with pure male scent.

Their third date, in as many days, had been wonderful, the food almost as incredible as the company.

It wasn’t that she wanted to date him, but she found that at work she was so busy with finding files for Case, setting up interviews and doing her own job that she hardly had time to do anything more than admire his dedication to the employees. And he did keep asking her out so she had the opportunity to find out more about him.

Who was she to decline?

At least the plan was working. She was getting to know Case, although she was discovering more about his pets, his parents, his hobbies and his childhood than the details of his career.

Now he was being incredibly tortuous by doing the chivalrous escort-the-girl-to-the-door thing that drove her mind mad with the should-she or shouldn’t-she invitations for coffee, inclinations to kiss him, and intense desire to do more than show him the door after the coffee and kiss.

‘Thank you for another wonderful evening,’ she offered tightly, opening her bag and scrabbling for her keys, pushing the silly notions from her mind.

He was a professional and her boss. Much as she wanted him to be the office playboy, after spending the last few days with him she had serious doubts. He was simply wonderful.

‘My pleasure, Tahlia,’ he said, her name a mere whisper on his breath.

She shivered, plucked out her keys and fought the jumble for the right one. ‘It was great. The mousse was so rich and sweet and smooth—’ She glanced up at him—like his voice, like his jaw, like his lips…

‘It was,’ he said, inching even closer. ‘Can I help?’

She watched as he took the keys from her hand and poked the one she’d labelled ‘front’ in the lock and turned, pushing the door wide.

‘Thanks.’ Tahlia swept his jacket off her shoulders, the moment when he’d wrapped her in it scored in her memory, his body heat still lingering around her, her heart hammering against her ribs.

She tried to keep that comment he’d made that first night she’d gone out with him, that she was just another date, foremost in her mind, but the rest of the week pressed in on her, smothering her senses with a kindness and a warmth a shallow Romeo just shouldn’t have.

She wanted to tell him everything, stay close to him, talk to him all night…and more.

Was this what her mother was feeling? Was this crazy feeling the reason she’d risk so much on a man?

Tahlia looked up into Case’s sapphire-blue eyes. ‘I lied, you know,’ she said softly.

‘Oh, yes?’ he said, lifting an eyebrow and taking a step back. ‘About what, exactly?’

‘I haven’t exactly had my share of boyfriends.’ Tahlia bit her lip. ‘No serious boyfriends at all, really.’

‘Oh.’

Her belly tightened. ‘But don’t get me wrong. I have had boyfriends. Plenty. Just no one special, you know, someone who made me feel like—’ She caught herself. ‘What about you?’

He shook his head. ‘No serious boyfriends either,’ he said softly, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth. ‘But I did… I was…in a serious relationship.’

‘And—?’

‘And it didn’t end well,’ he murmured, moving closer. ‘But I believe in second chances. Do you?’

She hadn’t thought she ever could after what her father did… Hadn’t believed she could ever trust a man again, but this feeling, and Case, was special.

She looked up to hand him his jacket, catching his blue gaze and holding it, the gleam residing there fixing her to the spot. ‘Yes,’ she whispered.

Case lifted a hand to her face, brushing her cheek with his knuckles, pushing back her long fringe, hooking his fingers around her neck and drawing her closer.

His gaze dropped to her mouth.

‘Case—’ she croaked, moistening her lips instinctively, her whole body aching for him. ‘This may not be a good idea—’ There was still so much to say before anything happened between them.

He leant down, brushing his lips over hers.

Oh, gawd—yes. Sensation sizzled along her lips, cascading down her body, nestling deep in the pit of her stomach where a yearning ache flared.

He tasted her mouth, teased her lips with his own, drawing up his other hand to cup her face.

Oh, hell, yes.

Tahlia pressed her hands against his hard solid chest, his heart thumping beneath her touch, his warm skin beneath just one thin layer of cotton, all that hard muscle and flesh so close…

He drew back, tasting her lips again. ‘You’re probably right. Not a good idea…’ He brushed her lips with his mouth. ‘Not a good idea at all.’

She backed into her doorway, her hands clenched tightly in his shirt. ‘Colleagues and all.’

Case followed, his gaze on her lips, his hands on her shoulders. ‘Absolutely. Not a good practice.’

‘Practise is good,’ she whispered, flicking open his shirt buttons and sliding her hands against his warm skin, revelling in the heat of him, the hardness of him, the incredible smoothness.

He sucked in a deep breath, pushed the door closed with his foot and kissed her soundly.

Case’s lips caressed hers, soft and sensual. He drew her closer still, running a hand down over her waist, down her hip, down her thigh and up again, moulding her against him.

Oh, by all she’d denied too long, yes.

She popped the rest of his buttons, running her hands up his hard chest and over his wide shoulders, pushing the shirt from his body.

Case lightened the kiss, as though the cool air of the room had subdued his desire. He dragged in a deep breath.

‘We’re professionals,’ he murmured, trailing kisses along her cheek, over her ear and down her neck. ‘We should look at the bigger picture. Not make rash decisions.…’

Tahlia pressed her lips against his shoulder, his skin sweet and salty. ‘What are the cons?’ she whispered. ‘Career suicide?’

‘No.’ Case slipped his hand behind her back, his breath exciting the pulse in her neck. ‘Office gossip.’

‘Hierarchy complications?’ Tahlia suggested, trailing her fingers down the bare flesh of his back and up again. ‘Impartiality issues?’

‘Not being able to keep my hands off you at work,’ Case murmured in her ear, coaxing the zip down at her back. ‘In the lift, in the office, on my desk.’

Fire erupted deep inside her. She twined her fingers in his hair. ‘What are the pros?’

Case brushed her shoulders with his large hands, sweeping off the straps, letting the dress fall to the floor. His eyes glittered, his gaze travelling up her long legs, over black lace panties to her matching lace bra. ‘You.’

She couldn’t help but smile, pushing everything from her mind except this moment, with him. It didn’t matter who he was, what he really wanted, as long as he wanted her.

She took a step towards him, reaching up and touching his cheek, running her palm down his jaw. ‘And this,’ she whispered, brushing his lips with hers on tiptoe.

Case swept her into his arms, crushing her mouth.

Tahlia opened herself to him, welcoming the hunger, the heat of his kiss that was only matched by the flames of lust leaping up inside her.

He lifted her into his arms.

She pushed open the bedroom door behind him.

He strode into the room, placing her on to the bed reverentially, drinking in the sight of her. ‘Oh, God, Tahlia,’ he groaned, tracing her curves with his eyes, his hands following. ‘I’m lost. You drive me wild.’

Tahlia ran her hands down his chest, hooking his belt and unclasping it, drawing it slowly from his trousers. ‘And crazy?’

‘And crazy,’ Case whispered hoarsely, unclipping her bra and peeling it from her full breasts.

‘I want you too,’ she said softly, drawing him down and claiming his mouth. And she did. She burned for him. Wanted him so much she could hardly breathe.

‘And practise makes perfect,’ she whispered.

Tahlia watched Case sleep in the soft light from the streetlights outside. Wow. She couldn’t believe this— how nice he was, how amazingly lucky she was to wake up next to him.

She trailed her fingers down his chest, wondrous at the ripples of muscle, the light scatter of chest hair, the perfection of him.

He caught her hand. ‘Hey, that tickles.’

‘Sorry, did I wake you?’

‘Yes, but it was the nicest way anyone has ever woken me.’

She couldn’t help but smile. Gawd, she felt amazing… He’d given so much, shared with her so much. She wanted more, so much more, craved to be closer, know everything about Case Darrington. ‘Last night was—’

‘I know,’ he said, his voice deep.

‘No regrets?’ she whispered.

‘How could I have regrets?’ Case leant up on his elbow, looking down at her. ‘Not a chance.’

‘So, can I ask you something?’ she asked tentatively, tracing his jaw with the tip of her finger. ‘About your last serious relationship—you mentioned it last night.’ She needed to know how long ago it had been, that she wasn’t a rebound girl to patch some wounded ego.

Case cupped her face. ‘It wasn’t just a serious relationship… I was married.’

Tahlia froze. Oh, gawd.

‘It’s okay. I’m divorced—’ He frowned. ‘I’m not defective… Okay, maybe I am, but I can promise you I won’t make the same mistakes again.’

‘Should I ask what they were?’ she whispered softly, drawing her hand back and placing it on her chest over her heart.

‘I wasn’t blameless,’ Case forced out. He needed to face it, needed to say it. He’d spent far too long blaming Celia for the whole disaster. It was time he accepted his part in it. Needed to, so he could move on and embrace a future with Tahlia.

‘I was away a lot, working my butt off to reach my dreams, my goals, and I lost sight of the fact that Celia had dreams and goals too.’

‘Celia was your wife?’

Case swallowed hard. ‘Yes. Much as I didn’t want to be a trophy husband, my neglect and my obsession with work made her feel like a trophy wife. I regret the pain I put her through. I regret that I turned into my father.’

‘And?’ she said softly, looking up at him with wide eyes. ‘Are you still your father?’

‘No, thank God.’ He pushed her long fringe back from her face. ‘I learnt.’

‘Too late,’ she whispered softly.

‘Yes. While I worked like a maniac she filled her life with things, jewellery and men. By the time I realised what I’d done it was too late; nothing I tried could fix it.’

‘Did you love her?’

Case ran his hand down her cheek. ‘I thought I did. It was a kind of love, but nothing like—’ His voice broke. Like what he was feeling for the woman in his arms.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘I was too, for a long time, but not now.’ He shook his head, drinking in Tahlia’s creamy smooth skin. It was time to come clean. He couldn’t keep anything from her now. ‘Tahlia, I—’

She touched his mouth with her fingers. ‘Enough talking.’ She drew him down to her, taking his lips with her own, smothering the memory of Celia with the magic of her kiss.

It could wait. They had plenty of time. It was probably something he shouldn’t just blurt out anyway. It was something to prepare her for.

At least now he knew for sure. His heart wasn’t broken. It was finally alive with the magic of love. He’d found exactly what he had been looking for. Tahlia.

Chapter Fifteen

Keely’s rule number seven: face your fears and seize the moment.

TO: [e-mail]

CC: [e-mail]

FROM: [e-mail]

RE: Chrystal and that look on your face

First, tell all. You haven’t looked like this since… ever. What’s up? Are you in love? Has it got something to do with that man in your chair who fits your original criteria or have you found a tattoo-wearing, glass-munching man to turn you on?

And Chrystal is floating around extolling advice about wounded men like a Florence Night-in-love. Has Cupid hit?

Em

IT WAS ALL Tahlia could do to sit outside Case’s office and not go inside and taste the magic of his lips again and again and again.

He was like a drug and she couldn’t get enough of him. Last night had been magical in so many ways and she couldn’t believe she’d been so stupid to deny herself this.

Thank heavens that Case had come along and opened her eyes to life, to sharing, to him.

Was this what Chrystal was after by chasing every pair of trousers in the building and what her mother had found in the man she wanted her to meet?

TO: [e-mail]

CC: [e-mail]

FROM: [e-mail]

RE: Chrystal and that look on your face.

I’m not saying anything that will later incriminate me, especially where the ‘office playboy’ is concerned. I will figure out what I’m feeling and in due course share my adventures with my two closest friends.

Definitely not shot by arrow-wielding midget.

T

No way was this love. Her mother and father had had something far more sensible than this craziness she was feeling. Besides, she couldn’t be in love. She wasn’t going to love anyone.

She’d decided when she was twelve that love wasn’t for her—about the moment her mother had told her what had happened to her father, that he wasn’t ever coming home again.

Love was for suckers, for young, naïve romantics. She was a professional and this was just another necessity to attain her true goal in life—a perfect career, because you could rely on work, you couldn’t rely on men.

All men were liars; they didn’t share their feelings or their fears and consequently left the world thinking they had jumped, when they could just have befallen a tragic accident.

So Case had shared his failed marriage with her—it didn’t mean he was the one that she’d risk everything for… Or was he?

She chewed on her bottom lip. He was divorced… What did that say?

She was never going to subject herself to pain, no matter how amazing Case Tantric Darrington was in bed, or how warm his lips were, how safe his arms were or how nice it had been to hear another human being’s heartbeat when she had woken up this morning in his embrace.

Chrystal rushed up the hall towards Tahlia. ‘Is this a good time?’

Tahlia nodded and waved her closer, anything to distract her from the love issue. So Case was incredibly, wonderfully nice—it didn’t mean she liked him. So the guy was great in bed—it didn’t mean she wanted him. So she wanted to spend every moment with him—it didn’t mean she loved him.

Chrystal sauntered up to the desk, her plaid knee-length skirt doing nothing to hide the exaggerated sway of her hips. ‘You won’t believe what I just heard.’

Tahlia sat taller and picked up a pen, spinning it in her hand. ‘What? Tell me.’

The receptionist leant forward, her blouse not as demure as the D cups she owned beneath it. ‘I heard on the grapevine that WWW Designs has just been sold.’

Tahlia gripped the pen tighter. ‘Oh, God. No.’

‘Yes.’

She dragged in a ragged breath. It couldn’t be. It was a mess. Who would want a mess like WWW? The only workplace she’d ever known could be ripped apart, her workmates scattered to all corners of the city, her secure future torn to shreds. ‘To whom?’

‘Some conglomerate, they say.’ Chrystal straightened and examined her nails. ‘I’ll let you know if I hear what’s going on, but someone said it’s one of those companies that owns a company that owns another one.’

‘But who?’ If she knew who was behind it all she’d be able to work out whether they meant to revamp the place and run it, or chop it into little pieces and sell it off to make a nameless profit for a bunch of rich fatarsed shareholders.

‘I don’t know, but the guys in Programming said that the first thing these big guys do is bring an expert in and turn the place upside down, weed out the inefficiencies and re-haul, or dissect, depending on the value.’

‘I know,’ Tahlia said softly, pulling her jacket tighter around her. She hadn’t put everything she had into WWW Designs, years of her life, just so that they could sell it off, chop it up and destroy it. Please, no.

Chrystal shrugged. ‘Nothing to do but give everyone the heads-up so they’re all working to top form. Slackers get the sack.’ She paused. ‘And I’ll let you know if I hear anything about the new owners from the rumour mill.’