Emma Darcy: The Marriage Risk

“You’re still my boss,” Lucy countered.

“Time you stopped putting your life into neat little pockets,” James told her. “Forget playing safe. Take a risk.”

He caught her totally off guard, hauling her in to him with a thump that left her breathless. Or maybe it was the impact of feeling a vital wall of muscle connected to her wobbly frame that stole her ability to breathe.

“Now melt,” he commanded gruffly.

And Lucy melted.

Some of our bestselling authors are Australian!

Emma Darcy…

Helen Bianchin…

Miranda Lee…

Lindsay Armstrong…

Look out for their novels about the Wonder of Down Under—where spirited women win the hearts of Australia’s most eligible men.

Coming soon:

Marriage at a Price

by Miranda Lee

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CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

‘AND how is my ever delightful and worthy Miss Worthington this morning?’

Lucy gritted her teeth against a seething wave of resentment, almost hating the man who clearly had no idea how such blithely tossed off words lacerated her heart.

The breezy greeting from her boss probably meant he’d spent a highly pleasurable night with his latest woman. His voice lilted with macho smugness, a sure sign of sexual satisfaction, and his playful play on her surname accentuated the fact that Lucy wasn’t the type he’d toss in his bed, however delightful she might be to work with. Worthy women didn’t excite him.

Though if her breasts were big enough to fill and overflow a D-cup bra, he might consider her more bed-worthy, Lucy thought caustically, ungritting her teeth and turning from the filing cabinet to direct a bland smile at the sexy wolf who employed her as his sensible secretary.

‘Good morning, sir,’ she piped sweetly.

James Hancock was the classic tall dark and handsome prototype, with the potent addition of a shrewd business brain and the kind of charm that won friends and influenced all the right people. He was thirty-four, in the prime of life, had the well-earned reputation of being a dynamic agent in the entertainment field, which helped make him an A-list bachelor in Sydney society, and he was definitely exuding an air of being on top of his world.

His rakish black eyebrows lifted. ‘Sir?’

She cocked her head on one side, returning his quizzical look. ‘Weren’t you cueing me to greet you formally with your Miss Worthington?’

He laughed, his blue eyes twinkling devilish delight. ‘The comeback queen strikes again. What would I do without you to entertain me, Lucy?’

Resentment crawled down her spine and loosened her tongue. ‘I imagine you’d quickly find someone else to score off.’

‘Score off?’ he repeated incredulously. ‘My dear Lucy, the scoring honours invariably go to you.’

‘Really? I hadn’t noticed.’

She picked up the files she’d extracted from the cabinet and carried them to her desk, ready to hand them over to him.

‘It comes naturally to you,’ he assured her, grinning from ear to ear. ‘One of the joys of office hours, hearing your salty down-to-earth comments. They invariably reduce all the hype in this business to what’s real and what isn’t. An invaluable talent.’

‘Invaluable enough to be worth a raise in salary?’

‘Ouch!’ He mockingly slapped a hand against his forehead. ‘She strikes again.’

‘Pure logic, James,’ she pointed out with limpid innocence while savagely wanting him to pay for seeing her as nothing but a bottom line sounding board when it came to dealing with his high-flying clients. ‘You’ll need to check these files while answering this morning’s e-mails. Is there anything else you need from me right now?’ she asked, pressing for him to enter his own office and leave her alone to get over the frustrations he aroused in her.

He ignored the files, shaking an admonishing finger at her. ‘You’re a money-grubber, Lucy Worthington.’

She shrugged. ‘A woman has to look out for herself these days. I just don’t believe in free meal-tickets.’ Which was a neat little jibe at the women he favoured, women who traded on lush physical assets to get where they wanted.

‘Ha!’ James crowed. ‘I gave you free tickets to tonight’s charity bash.’

‘Oh?’ Lucy viewed him with sceptical eyes. ‘You’re not expecting anything of me, like being conveniently on hand to fix up some last-minute hitch with the program?’

‘Completely free,’ he insisted loftily.

‘How novel!’ She smiled. ‘I might just keep you to that, James.’

‘A reward for all the good work you’ve done in putting the program together.’

Since the tickets were a thousand dollars each and her salary was already generous, Lucy couldn’t, in all conscience, imply she wasn’t well rewarded for the job she did. ‘Thank you. I shall look forward to relaxing and enjoying myself tonight,’ she said dismissively while still doubting the tickets were entirely free of obligation.

Why would he give them to her if he didn’t want her there for some reason?

His eyes twinkled. ‘It will be my pleasure to see you enjoying yourself, Lucy.’

He did have a motive. She could feel it in her bones.

‘Who are you bringing?’ he tossed at her as he finally picked up the files she’d supplied.

‘A friend.’

One eyebrow lifted teasingly. ‘A male friend?’

Did he think her so sexless she couldn’t have one? Lucy struggled to maintain a calm demeanour. ‘Yes. Is that a problem for you?’ The challenge slid off her tongue before she could stop it.

‘Not at all. Glad to hear it.’

He went off smiling, carrying the files he needed, leaving the door between their two offices open so he could call out to her when he wanted to.

Lucy sagged onto the chair behind her desk, shaken by the thought his last words had conjured up. Had he suspected she only had female friends? That she might even be a lesbian, because she didn’t openly adore him like all the other women who came through these offices?

A wave of wretched misery churned through her stomach. She should get herself out of this job. It was eating up any kind of normal life she might have, being with James Hancock every working day, constantly wanting him, being jealous of every woman who took his eye.

He was never going to view her as anything other than an efficient secretary. Eight months she’d been with him—eight months of a helpless sexual awareness she couldn’t control or even dampen. Lust at first sight, she now thought with sick irony, and it hadn’t worn off.

No other man had ever drawn such a strong physical response from her. In fact, she had never really understood why other women got themselves in such a mess over men, losing all perspective and self-respect, too, when they were badly let down. Being sensible had been Lucy’s long-held belief on how one should conduct one’s life. Indeed, her mother had drilled it into her from early childhood and Lucy had come to see it saved her from a lot of grief.