Nicola Marsh - Contract To Marry

Instead he stared at her brochures, flicking through each and every one with barely concealed amusement on his face.

‘If you’ve finished?’ She held out her hand, knowing she sounded petulant but not particularly caring. That was all she needed, some guy to patronise her about an idea that meant everything to her.

He looked up suddenly and fixed her with a probing stare. ‘Are you the Fleur Adams mentioned in these brochures?’

And suddenly, just like that, Fleur experienced that strange, fluttery feeling that Liv’s romance novels raved about, that once-in-a-lifetime gut-churning, toe-curling reaction that signalled the one. She gazed at the stranger, wondering at her bizarre reaction, for she wouldn’t call him drop-dead gorgeous or anything remotely as flattering. He had dark hair, blue eyes and a strong, clean-shaven jaw, with lips that were compressed in a thin, seemingly impatient line.

As she’d originally thought, nothing out of the ordinary, except for a strange aura that spelled ‘power’ and captured her attention in a way no man had in a long, long time.

‘Well?’ He quirked an eyebrow as if challenging an imbecile to answer.

Resisting the urge to shake her head and dispel the fog that seemed to have penetrated her brain, she nodded. ‘I’m Fleur Adams. And you are?’

‘Someone who is interested in what you have to offer.’

His glance flicked to the brochures briefly before returning to study her face. ‘Are you sure you’re experienced enough to be offering this kind of service?’

Oh, when it comes to you, handsome, I’ve got plenty to offer.

For a horrifying moment, Fleur thought she’d spoken aloud as his blue eyes blazed with something more than a passing interest in her business. However, it flickered and died before she could analyse it further and she quickly refocused her concentration before she blew this chance encounter completely.

Squaring her shoulders, she looked him straight in the eye. ‘I’m fully qualified, as the information you’ve just perused suggests. If you’re interested, I’d be more than happy to present my ideas to you on a more formal basis, Mr…?’

‘Darcy Howard.’ He thrust out his hand. ‘Pleased to meet you.’

Fleur had perfected a handshake for doing business, though she still felt a tad awkward when most men seemed to want to squeeze every last drop of strength out of her in order to prove some antiquated point that males were the dominant sex, in and out of the boardroom.

However, the minute she placed her hand in Darcy’s, her nerve endings did some weird short-circuiting thing that sent electrical impulses shooting up her arm. And to make matters worse, he seemed to sense it too, by the slight widening of his baby-blues.

Resisting the urge to pull back as quickly as possible, she managed a shaky smile and slid her hand out of his grasp. ‘If you give me your contact details, Mr Howard, I’ll call you to arrange a mutually convenient time to discuss your company’s needs.’

‘Call me Darcy.’ He smiled and for one, insane moment Fleur felt like jumping into the air and doing a Charlie Chaplin-like sidekick.

‘Here. You can reach me on any of those numbers.’ He handed her a business card and she resisted her first impulse to scan it and memorise every single detail about the man.

Instead, she casually placed it into her handbag as if she had enough business lined up for months. ‘Thanks, I’ll be in touch.’

He nodded before heading towards the door, leaving her gaping after the tall figure clad in a black trench coat.

‘Way to go, girl.’ Liv’s applause penetrated Fleur’s brain and she quickly sat down, trying to act as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, when, in fact, the encounter with Darcy Howard had shaken her more than she cared to admit.

‘About time I had a change in luck. Let’s hope he’s interested in what I have to offer.’

Liv picked up her novel and fanned her face. ‘Phew! Baby, is he interested!’

‘What are you talking about?’ Fleur feigned ignorance and hoped she didn’t blush.

‘In case you hadn’t noticed, that guy is gorgeous. And he seemed very interested in you.’

Fleur’s heart gave a little flip-flop of hope—maybe she hadn’t imagined the gleam in his eye? However, she inwardly groaned and resisted the urge to slap herself—what was she thinking? She should be concentrating on presenting a professional image to the man she’d just met, not entertaining ludicrous hopes about mixing business with pleasure.

She shrugged. ‘Gorgeous? You’ve been reading too many of those books again. He seemed ancient to me.’

Liv grinned, a self-satisfied smirk that told Fleur her friend knew exactly how she’d reacted to the man. ‘I thought you were into older men.’

Fleur took a long sip from her glass and tried to hide her answering smile. ‘Yeah, but I’m not into collecting antiques!’

‘Wow, he must’ve really grabbed your attention. So, when are you going to call him?’

Suddenly the implications of her predicament came flooding back and Fleur knew that, as much as her reaction to Darcy Howard disturbed her, she needed his business. Like yesterday.

‘I’ll do it first thing tomorrow.’

Liv nodded in approval. ‘Sounds like a plan. Though I wouldn’t leave it too long. Opportunities like Darcy Howard don’t come along too often.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Trust me, I should know.’

And just like that, an image of intense blue eyes boring into her flashed across Fleur’s mind, leaving her with a sudden hankering to grab hold of this opportunity and hang on for dear life.

Darcy stormed into the office and slammed the door shut behind him. Just his luck that the one day he’d managed to grab a bite to eat away from his desk in over a month, he returned to a mountain of problems.

So what’s new?

Since when had his life been anything but a never-ending list of problems—starting with his parents’ death when he’d been nineteen, assuming responsibility for raising his eleven-year-old brother, taking on a pile of debts run up by a father hell-bent on making his harebrained schemes work and, lately, trying to raise his floundering business out of a financial quagmire?

Just another day at the office, he thought, before sinking into his leather chair and scrutinising the latest batch of reports on his desk.

Despite the business acumen of his staff, the profit margins he’d predicted for the company had continued to fall at an alarming rate, leaving him in a quandary. He’d tried team-building exercises, personal pep talks and a bonus incentive scheme but nothing had worked and the strange lethargy that plagued most of his employees was starting to have disastrous consequences on the company’s bottom line.

Rubbing his forehead, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. The image of Fleur Adams popped into his head and he wondered if he was doing the right thing in considering hiring her to save his company. He’d been impressed—hell, he’d been downright flabbergasted—at the services she’d advertised in her brochures, as if she’d read his mind and known exactly what he needed to make this work.

OK, the brochures hadn’t been the only things that had impressed him. Once he’d taken the time to look at the woman whose head collided with his elbow, he’d been pleasantly surprised. A pair of worldly brown eyes had stared at him, almost startling in their clarity for one so young. He’d guessed her age to be early twenties, which was why he’d questioned her ability to deliver everything her brochures said. How could anyone so young be that experienced?

You were.

He grimaced, hoping that the lovely young woman he’d been lucky enough to bump into today hadn’t learned life’s lessons the hard way, as he had. His view of the world was far too jaded for a man of thirty-eight and there wasn’t one damn thing he could do about it. Growing up too quickly did that to a person.