Bella Bucannon - Unlocking The Millionaire's Heart

He held his mobile towards her, allowing her to input first.

Their empty plates removed, and anything else politely declined, she leant her elbows on the table and cupped her chin on her linked fingers as they waited for the bill.

‘Do you commute from the mountains every day?’ she asked.

‘Electronic media means I can do a fair amount from home. I come in when necessary, or for socialising.’

He hadn’t yet bowed to the pressure to commit to full-time employment with the family firm, wary of the daily sameness stretching into his future.

‘Like today?’

‘Like today.’

And he’d be staying until his flight overseas on Sunday morning.

He settled the account on the way out, irrationally torn between needing to be alone and reluctance to let her go. After saying goodbye, she headed for the railway station without glancing back. He watched for a moment, then strode towards the Harbour Bridge.

CHAPTER THREE

JEMMA TOOK NO notice of the world around her as the train sped to Central Station, and as she deliberated on which way to go when she alighted. Her brain buzzed at the compliments Brian had given her, coupled with the sensations from Nate’s few touches and her own responses to his looks and his voice.

Could she handle being in frequent contact with him? Even by email? How would she deal with someone who was averse to allowing her to read anything he’d written?

Consider our options.

Like heck. He oozed the authority of a man who knew exactly what he wanted and rarely settled for less. He’d given no indication of his point of view on their two-way deal, focussing only on his novel.

Brian’s appraisal of her work had been honest and unemotional, letting her know the downsides while still giving her hope of a satisfactory solution. Already aware of her weakness when she’d submitted to him, she was open to any suggestion for improvement.

Could Nate remain impartial to the romance genre when he read her work? How did he feel about helping to transform her inept storytelling? He’d been very forthright about his aversion to allowing her access to his manuscript. Her emotions wavered from exhilaration that she might achieve publication to apprehension that Nate’s expectations might be hard to satisfy.

She walked out of the station and turned towards Circular Quay. Window shopping in Pitt Street would pass the time and occupy her mind. If he didn’t call... She banished that thought. He’d phone—even if it was only to dash any foolish hopes she might have allowed to take seed.

A new dress and two fun presents for her friends later, she was watching the ferries dock and depart as she devoured a fruit and nut bar. She wandered over to where groups of excited people were dragging suitcases towards a huge cruise ship. A holiday to inspire a romance novel? Maybe one day she’d take one.

A brochure she’d picked up on the way showed it wasn’t far from here to the historic Rocks area. If she hadn’t heard from Nate by the time she’d explored the old buildings she’d catch the next train to North Ryde.

* * *

Did he like Jemma? Way too much. Nate had kept his emotions under tight restraint since he’d narrowly escaped being duped into a sham marriage, but he’d had trouble curbing them around her. She’d had doubts concerning him on sight, which had him wondering who he reminded her of.

Did he trust her? Not yet. Experience in dealing with the darker side of life had taught him that trust had to be earned rather than given freely.

Did he want her? His body’s response to any thought of her gave him an instant reply. But that didn’t mean he’d follow through.

Mental arguments for and against dual authorship had got him nowhere, and he was still uncommitted as he reached the waterside. Swinging left, he took the steps leading up to the bridge walkway. After skirting a group of photo-snapping tourists, he took a deep breath of salty air and began to run.

He maintained a steady pace until he reached the apartment block at North Sydney. His grandfather had bequeathed a twenty-third-storey unit jointly to him, Sam and Alice, and all three of them had lived there, alone or together, at various times. It was always available for family and friends when they came to the city.

A long, refreshing shower cooled his body, but didn’t clear his mind. Dressed in fresh clothes, and with a stubby of cold beer in his hand, he stood on the balcony, staring at the buildings around him. Not far away by foot was the office block housing the family brokerage firm, which had offered him a lucrative job for life.

Far away up in the mountains was the home he’d designed, with an architect’s help, to suit the lifestyle he planned to live. Mostly solitary, with occasional guests, pleasing only himself. Closing his eyes, he pictured the view as he woke in the morning, ate his meals and chilled out in the evenings. And in that instant his decision was made.

Somewhere in the thriving metropolis across the bay was the woman Brian believed could help him realise literary success. All he had to do was have faith and stay in command of his libido.

But before he committed to a trial partnership he needed to reinforce the life oath he’d made years ago, during the lowest point of his life. He took the dog-eared leather notebook he always travelled with, flipped it open to a coded page, and read the vow he’d made never to get involved out loud.

Then he phoned Jemma Harrison.

It took three rings for her to answer, and he heard traffic and the rattle of a train in the background.

‘Hi, Jemma, where are you?’

‘Taking photos from the Harbour Bridge.’

He surprised himself with a spontaneous burst of laughter.

‘What’s so funny?’ There was a spike in her voice, though she didn’t sound offended.

‘I ran over it on the way here. Which end are you nearest?’

‘Um... I guess I’m about a third of the way along from the quay.’

‘Keep coming north. Don’t rush. I’ll meet you at the steps going down to the road. We can sit in the park nearby. Would you like me to bring you a hot or cold drink?’

‘No, thanks. I have a bottle of water.’

‘Okay, see you soon.’

He grimaced at the screen after disconnecting, and then went to put on socks and sneakers. Having his pulse hiking and his mouth drying, even his palms itching, was something he might have to become accustomed to if they were going to be in regular communication.

Anticipation of seeing her had him moving faster than normal. It was not the way he wanted to feel.

* * *

Nate saw Jemma approaching as he reached the top of the steps so he waited, admiring the natural sway of her hips as she came towards him. The extra bag in her hand and the bulge in the one over her shoulder, proved she’d been shopping. Her smile as they met had him steeling his arms at his sides to prevent greeting her with a hug, and the sunglasses hiding the expression in her beautiful blue eyes was a disappointment.

‘Hi—would you like me to carry the bag?’

‘Thanks, I’m fine.’ She waved her arm in a wide sweep. ‘I’d love to sit and view all this on a stormy day—or preferably night.’

‘You like thunder and lightning?’

She laughed, causing an unfamiliar and yet not unpleasant effect over his skin. Causing him to take a quick breath. Causing him to fortify the reason he was meeting her. To get his book published.

‘From a safe vantage point—oh, yes.’

‘They can give you a spectacular display in the mountains—especially when watched from a heated room with a beer or glass of wine at your side.’

Berating himself for conjuring up an image of them sharing wine and nature’s dramatic show, he guided her down to the ground and across to the lawn area at the edge of the water. Partial images of the Opera House and the southern side of the bay were visible through the semicircle of palm trees. A small oasis of green surrounded by acres of concrete and buildings was behind them, and the expanse of deep water in front.