Полная версия
At The Boss's Command
At the Boss’s Command
Darcy Maguire
Madeleine Ker
Natasha Oakley
www.millsandboon.co.uk
MILLS & BOON
Before you start reading, why not sign up?
Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!
SIGN ME UP!
Or simply visit
signup.millsandboon.co.uk
Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.
Taking on the Boss
by
Darcy Maguire spends her days as a matchmaker, torturing tall, handsome men, seducing them into believing in love, and romancing their socks off! And when she’s not working on her novels she enjoys gardening, reading and going to the movies. She loves to hear from her readers. Visit her at www.darcymaguire.com
Chapter One
Aries—Your love life has been in a lull. Expect to meet someone new who’ll stir your passions.
No, thank you, I’ll pass.
‘IT’S every girl’s dilemma.’
Tahlia Moran pushed open the front door to their office building, turning and holding it for her friend. ‘What is?’
‘The right timing to get seriously into finding one’s life’s partner, of course,’ Keely said, pushing her handbag strap up her shoulder.
The words hammered right through Tahlia. First the horror-scope and now Keely. Did she have ‘seriously single but feel free to cure me’ tattooed on her forehead?
‘You know,’ Keely offered. ‘It has to be soon or there won’t be any single, straight men left for you. All the good men are getting snapped up.’
Tahlia had to admit her two best friends were doing their bit, going from seriously single to seriously taken in what seemed like a snap. ‘I’m fine. I don’t need anybody just now.’
‘Tahlia—’ Keely moved slowly through the doorway, resting her arm on her protruding belly, full of arms and legs. ‘I know a lot of women just wait for him to appear, like magic. But we do encourage him to turn up by dating, pitiful though it may be, every single man around.’
‘Just in case he doesn’t,’ Tahlia stated dryly, glancing down at her friend, who was a good six inches shorter than her now that Keely had traded in her heels for flats that didn’t add to the swelling she seemed to be experiencing in more places than just her belly.
‘Mr Right turned up for me and Em. He will for you too, but you have to date. It’s a given, an unwritten agreement with Cupid.’
Tahlia let the door go. ‘I’m thrilled for you both, you know that, but I have things to do right now and those things have nothing to do with arrow-wielding midgets or men.’ While a partner was on her to-do list he wasn’t a priority just now. And when it came to relationships she was in uncharted territory—a place she’d rather not be.
Keely sighed. ‘Okay, but he could just appear out of nowhere and sweep you off your feet.’
She didn’t want to be swept; she was thinking more of being quietly and calmly romanced into a sane and sensible partnership that would prove companionable and satisfying for the long term, some time in the future.
‘What does your horoscope say?’
Tahlia tucked her bag tightly under her arm. She’d had quite enough of horoscopes. It wasn’t as if they were always right. In fact, they were hardly right at all…so it didn’t really matter what it said today.
‘Oh, look, there’s George.’ Tahlia veered towards the guard’s desk, sneaking a quick glance at her friend to see if she’d successfully avoided discussing her horror-scope and its nebulous prediction of a certain stirring someone entering her life. ‘I’ve got to thank him for letting me out last night.’
Keely continued across the large marbled foyer towards the lifts. ‘Locked in again, eh?’
Tahlia nodded, straightening her suit jacket. There was only one way to guarantee being the only choice for the position of Marketing Executive and that was to out-work and out-perform everyone else.
There was no doubt she’d get the position when the big boss, Raquel, stopped running around the place trying to tell everyone how to do their jobs, and do hers by finally filling the position.
Tahlia couldn’t help but smile. Raquel’s job would be so much easier once she gave Tahlia the promotion, if only Raquel would get over her fear that Tahlia wanted her job next, rational or not.
‘You know, you’ve got to get out there to find him,’ her friend called across the foyer.
Tahlia stared after her, shaking her head and glancing around her. Trust Keely to share her singledom with the world.
She was well aware of the fact that she wasn’t just going to bump into the perfect man, that she had to go out and find him, eventually, but there were so many more pressing things to deal with first.
First and foremost, she had to secure that promotion. She needed to have job security before mucking around in the dating scene and possibly finding a partner, just in case it didn’t work out.
She wasn’t going to go into any relationship blind, unprepared, naïvely optimistic, or with silly ideas like love was enough.
Her mum had put her career on hold while she had concentrated on motherhood. When things had come crashing down her mother had been left juggling it all, finding out just how hard life was if you neglected sense and relied on love to see you through.
Tahlia was going to wait.
She wasn’t going to be pressured into something she wasn’t ready for just because Emma and Keely were no longer single. She’d wait until after the announcement of her promotion, after she had everything sorted and under control—all bases covered, then she’d handle the man-in-her-life challenge.
Tahlia pulled up at the guard’s station, rubbing the muscles knotted in her neck. ‘Hey, George.’ Tahlia slapped her hand on the counter, shooting him a smile. ‘Thanks so much again for last night.’
‘No problems.’ The greying guard shifted his formidable weight in his seat. ‘Any time for you. They must give you that promotion soon, eh?’
Tahlia nodded, the buzz of her imminent success in climbing another rung coursing through her. ‘Absolutely. It’s so close, George, I can smell it.’
George smiled up at her, his cheeks creasing in full waves of doughnut crescents. ‘Better not to be late, then.’
‘Have a great day.’ She swung around, glancing at her watch, striding forward. George was right. If Raquel was looking for a reason not to promote her there was no way in the world she’d give her the satisfaction.
The job was so hers.
She connected with a wall of warm flesh and the scent of soapy clean male engulfed her.
Tahlia looked down, finding her footing and the guy’s shiny black, very expensive-looking shoes. His suit trousers were black, stretching up long legs that tapered to a nice flat waist.
His soft blue shirt was covered by a black suit jacket that was tailored to perfection, emphasising just how wide the guy’s shoulders were.
His tie was the colour of sapphires…she lifted her gaze…as were his eyes, that met hers with a casual assurance that touched his lips, firm and sensual and full of promises.
Tahlia’s breath caught in her lungs.
She shook herself. She was going to stay focused and on track, no matter how short-back-and-sides, clean-shaven, suit-obsessed, white-collar-cute he looked.
‘Hello,’ he offered, his voice rich and deep, flowing over her like liquid Swiss chocolate. The world tipped.
The man caught her arm, holding her steady, a flash of concern in his gaze. ‘Are you okay?’
His hand was strong, hot and muddling. Blood rushed to Tahlia’s face, filling her head with a blurring that she couldn’t afford right now.
She forced her knees to straighten, strengthen, to not fall for a ridiculous weakness that only happened in a twelve-year-old girl’s dreams.
‘Yes. Of course. I’m fine,’ she managed, lifting her chin and shooting him a smile of cool assurance. ‘Loose heel, that’s all.’
She cast a glance downward to her black heels, willing that one would fall off gracefully and save her from this embarrassment.
His gaze followed, coursing over her suit jacket, down her simple white blouse, over her short black skirt that stopped a good six inches above her knees, down her bare legs to her feet.
His eyes glinted and she had the sudden urge to cross her arms. She felt naked, as though he’d just seen far more of her than he should have. And liked what he saw.
Butterflies swarmed in her belly.
Tahlia jerked her hand up to her face, pushed back her blonde-streaked long fringe and pointed to the lifts. ‘Must go. Love to…’ Die on the spot. ‘But can’t be late for work.’
The cute-suit raised an eyebrow, his blue eyes flashing. ‘That’s it?’
She froze. What? Did he mean to suggest that he was well aware of her disgusting weak-kneed reaction and was expecting her to fall into his arms again? What arrogance!
‘It?’ she enunciated clearly, crossing her arms. What else could he want? ‘As opposed to, what?’
‘An apology.’
‘Oh.’ The sound escaped her throat. Of course he did. Obviously. Manners. Why hadn’t she thought of that instead of jumping to erogenous conclusions? ‘Sorry for—’
His mouth quirked, fighting what looked to be a smile.
She stiffened, her blood heating anew. ‘Sorry for…running into someone who was obviously not looking where he was going.’
‘Either,’ he added, his voice an octave deeper.
‘Either,’ she echoed as casually as she could, hating to concede a point, and more than infuriated at her body’s total lack of sense. ‘Fine, but since you agree that you weren’t looking where you were going either, you could apologise…’
His eyes sparkled. ‘You’re absolutely right, but I was brought up to believe in “ladies first”.’
‘I think that relates to entries, exits and queues, not to apologies.’ She glared up at him. ‘And you have to admit that men need all the practice they can get.’
The man put down his case. ‘Apologising?’
She nodded. ‘It’s really something they don’t do enough of.’
‘Bad day?’ He slipped his hands into his pockets. ‘Has your husband upset you?’
She shook her head, a smile jumping to her mouth. ‘I’m not married.’ Gawd, no. She wasn’t going anywhere near that challenge for a long time.
‘Your boyfriend, then?’
‘No—’ Tahlia took a step back, her stomach fluttering as though there were a thousand butterflies in it. Was he interested, in her? ‘Look, I have to go or I’ll be late and you don’t know my boss—’
He didn’t know her either.
‘She doesn’t let you forget any transgression, no matter how insignificant, and it’s not like she’ll be sympathetic to my bumped-into-a-cute-guy-in-the-lobby excuse, even though she is seriously in need of a good—’
‘You think I’m cute?’
She touched her lips. Oh, damn. That couldn’t have been her. She never babbled, let alone incoherently. She never put her feet anywhere except where she wanted to go.
She pointed to the lifts, opening her mouth, but no words would come out. What in blazes was going on with her?
‘See you around then?’ he offered, his warm mouth fighting a smile that promised to be as amazing as the rest of him.
She nodded, swung around and forced herself to get as much distance between them as possible, counting her steps, measuring her speed to look as little like the hasty escape it was as possible.
What was that?
Tahlia shook her head. She wasn’t going to even think about it. So, the guy was cute and lust was a natural response. She didn’t have to concern herself about a bit of lust and there were so many reasons to lust for that guy.
Deep sexy voice, gorgeous body, tall, commanding and handsome as hell, but she wasn’t about to listen to inappropriate primal urges.
She needed a list of criteria for the most appropriate partner, a conservative, safe plan to dating, a timetable that would fit in with her commitments and work demands. This was not the time to get distracted or fall for anyone willy-nilly.
She stepped into the lift, taking a deep slow breath. What was she even thinking? One thing she was sure of. She was never going to fall for anyone, especially someone like that.
She was not going to make the same mistakes as her mother. No way in hell. Case Darrington punched the lift button, unable to stop the smile that had crept on to his lips at meeting the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on.
It wasn’t just her looks. It was everything about her.
The way she’d pulled her short chestnut-brown hair up and back into a wild and spiky knot intrigued him, suggesting a conservative layer covering something untamed underneath.
The large chunk of hair that she left loose could be called a fringe, hanging down and cupping her cheek like his hands itched to.
Her skin had beckoned to him, creamy smooth. Her lips, full and plump like peaches just begging to be tasted. Her eyes, deep dark green, pinning him to the spot.
So much to explore…who was she?
He should have asked her name, should have skipped getting exact directions from the guard and just followed her. He should have kept her talking instead of letting her have her escape without even getting her name, her floor, a glass shoe.
Case put his attaché case by his feet and tried to stop smiling. Hell. She’d floored him, with her eyes, her lips, her words…
Case couldn’t say when he’d last been so flattered so simply. Had watched such a beautiful display of…innocent reaction.
He stiffened. What was he thinking? He wasn’t about to get carried away with any unusual aches in the heart that he’d thought had died on him.
He’d grown wiser the hard way.
The doors opened on the lift and he snatched up his attaché case and stepped in. He wasn’t here for anything but work.
He gripped his case tighter, the woman’s face leaping into his mind, her green eyes sizzling and her full lips taunting him.
Dammit. Why couldn’t life be as straightforward as figures on a balance sheet?
A woman with deep red hair swept into the small space. ‘Hello, handsome,’ she lilted.
Case turned to find fluttering lashes on dark eyes that were drinking him up.
He stepped back. That tone…that look…sent memories flashing through the gashes in his heart.
‘Are you visiting or are you planning to stay around and make all my dreams come true?’ she asked softly, her smile widening, showing teeth.
‘I work here,’ he said bluntly, staring at the lift doors, willing the thing to get to his floor faster. He’d have to look into that. The lift was too slow. Employees needed to get to their floors much faster, especially when accompanied by predatory females.
She waved a hand laden with gold jewellery, the bracelets tinkling. ‘I think I’d remember you unless you have that whole Clark Kent-Superman thing going,’ she purred softly, sidling closer to him. ‘So are you Clark, or are you my Superman? I do love games.’
‘I’m new.’ And he hated games. He’d seen enough games to last him a lifetime. Hell, his ex had been a master at them, playing him in ways he’d never believed possible.
She ran a hand along his jacket sleeve, leaning closer, affording him a generous view of her low-cut blouse and the assets heaving there. ‘I could show you around.’
‘I don’t think so, Miss—?’ He stared at the panel— the floor he wanted was the only one lit. Please let it be a mistake, let her not be working with him… The last thing he needed was a constant reminder of his biggest failure in life to date.
She giggled softly as though she hadn’t heard his denial. ‘Call me Chrystal. And you are?’
The lift chimed.
‘Darrington,’ Case blurted, striding forward.
The doors opened just in time and he kept moving. He couldn’t wait to get as much distance as possible between himself and that man-eater.
He only wished he could escape the memories of his failed marriage as easily.
Chapter Two
The Beatles say all you need is love…
I say give me bug spray.
TAHLIA slapped her handbag on to her desk and swept up the files in one deft move, taking a deep breath and lifting her chin, the echo of her babbling bombarding her senses. What was that?
She was never like that. How embarrassing. She cast her eyes to the ceiling. Please let her not be so stupid again.
She glanced around her office, one wall full of filing cabinets, one with potted plants and paintings, one covered in current jobs and timelines and one made of glass with a great view of the lifts.
She shook her head and swept out of the door, striding down the aisle between the cubicles, replaying that débâcle over again in her mind. The floor could have done her one little favour and swallowed her up before she’d made such a complete and utter fool of herself. Cripes. How old was she?
She was far too old to be acting like a schoolgirl, that was for sure. Thank goodness that Emma and Keely hadn’t seen that deplorable display. She had a reputation to uphold. Cool, calm and always in control Tahlia Moran, soon to be Marketing Executive.
She swung into the last cubicle. ‘Morning, Susan,’ she offered, handing the young woman who was just sitting down a file. ‘Could you put some ideas together for this client? They want to change their look to reflect the new season.’
‘Sure.’
Tahlia nodded, striding down the row, doling out the updates for existing clients wanting changes to their websites and the assignments for potential clients.
She juggled the files in her arms. There were things a would-be executive did not do, and one was running off at the mouth in emotionally charged situations. Not that she was admitting there was anything but an overactive imagination and a neglected personal life at the root of that particular encounter downstairs.
Two years since her last real date wasn’t that long, not when she was ensuring a successful career for her future.
She clutched the files remaining. It didn’t matter anyway. Downstairs had been nothing but an anomaly. She wasn’t going to have to deal with that guy, or that abhorrent lack of control again.
‘Hey, you,’ Tahlia offered Emma, stepping into her friend’s cubicle and dropping the files on her desk. ‘Flirt magazine’s next issue—they want their update to match the theme and want another competition page designed and put on the site.’
Emma took the file. ‘Sure thing.’ The glow of love was bright in her eyes. ‘Did you hear? It’s time. Your day.’
Tahlia shook herself. ‘Em?’
‘Haven’t you logged on yet?’ Emma shot her a quizzical look. ‘Raquel just sent out a mass email to everyone for a meeting in the conference room at half past. Sounds like it could be it.’
Tahlia shook her head, kicking herself for not going through her normal routine—checking her voicemail, SMS and inboxes, both cyber and deskbound.
‘And?’
‘And the whispers suggest it’s about the Marketing Exec position.’
Tahlia’s belly fluttered. ‘She’s made a decision? Finally?’
‘Yep, it sounds like the Rottweiler has come through. So you’d better get spruced up.’ Emma tossed her blonde bob, her smile widening. ‘Now you don’t have any excuses not to get out there.’
‘Out there,’ Tahlia echoed, the words ricocheting down her spine, making her skin gooseflesh and the image of that cute-suit bounce around her brain.
‘Out there dating. Sheesh, Tahlia, anyone would think from the look on your face that you’re not keen to find Mr Right.’ Emma clapped her hands. ‘I’ve asked Harry and he has a couple of single mates and Keely says Lachlan is thinking about the possibilities for you too. It would be just perfect if you had someone special to come to my wedding with.’
Tahlia opened her mouth and closed it. What could she say? She had wonderful, interfering, matchmaking-maniac friends who were dying for her to find happiness like they had.
‘May I?’ she asked slowly, gesturing to the keyboard. Could the promotion really be hers today? Could she dare to believe it finally had come?
Emma rolled her chair away from her desk. ‘You have to see it to believe it, right?’
Tahlia stepped forward, clutching the mouse and logging on, clicking her way to her inbox. ‘The wording, the tone, the undertones could all mean so much…’
‘You’re still worried about the rumours that the company isn’t going so well?’
Tahlia glanced at her friend. ‘You know as well as I do that the whispers suggest jobs are to be axed and no one can deny the fears spreading are of a major shake-up or shake-down.’
‘And the latest gossip is that the owners have drawn too much of the cash flow out of the company to fund their overseas romps and WWW Designs is going down, down, down,’ Emma said dramatically.
‘That’s over-exaggeration if ever I heard it.’
Emma nodded, her eyes wide. ‘I know.’
TO: TahliaM@WWWDesigns.com
CC: allstaff@WWWDesigns.com
FROM: RaquelW@WWWDesigns.com
SUBJECT: Meeting
All staff,
Be advised that the meeting at 9am in the conference
room is mandatory for all staff to be advised of the
latest developments.
Don’t be late.
Raquel Wilson
General Manager
Tahlia sighed. ‘It doesn’t say anything regarding my promotion.’
‘What else could it be?’
‘The possibilities are endless, Em. It could be a new client coming on board, it could be about the rumours, it could be anything.’
‘But it could be your promotion. The Rottie always holds an all-staff meeting for changes in personnel.’
Tahlia straightened Em’s files on her desk. Was there a reason to get her hopes up? Was it about the position for Marketing Executive?
If it was, there was no one else suitable for the job so it had to be her. A bubble of excitement rose up in her chest.
Emma stood up, slapping her on the shoulder. ‘Come on. It is so about your promotion. It has to be.’ She grinned. ‘And now you have no excuse to get serious about that part of your life you’ve put on hold while you got your career all solid and stable.’
A chill raced down Tahlia’s back.
She smoothed down her suit jacket, shaking off the feeling. It would be fine. ‘Yes, not a problem,’ she stated casually to her friend. A relationship didn’t have to mean disaster, as long as it didn’t involve rash decisions, irrational emotions or incredibly embarrassing interactions with too-cute guys.
‘You don’t sound so sure.’
Tahlia raised her eyebrows, forcing a smile to her mouth. ‘I’ll handle it like I’ve handled everything— with criteria, a plan of action and safeguards.’
You could never have too many safeguards, as her mother had shown her. Her mother hadn’t considered any were necessary, that love was enough…and it was so not enough.
‘O-kay,’ Em offered, shooting her an odd look, moving out of her cubicle. She glanced at her watch. ‘So are you ready for the meeting?’
‘Absolutely.’ She was ready for her dream to come true and Em was right—what else could it possibly be about?
